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leejenowrld · 4 months

Text

my first and last (m)

pairing lee jeno x reader

word count 37k

synopsis meet lee jeno, campus heartbreaker, fuckboy, secret nerd. he’s the notorious guy that everyone wants but he only wants you —a shy, introverted stranger who appeared from nowhere, turning his life upside down. what starts as a reputation-defying connection swiftly evolves from strangers to friends and to intense, immediate love. it’s a twist the two of you never saw coming, the opening of your hearts to someone unexpected. but as personal struggles and external issues threaten to derail your connection, the once-confident jeno is left shattered and ensnared in the tumult of a love story gone awry.

chapter warnings first love au, irrelevant exes, explicit language, swearing, mentions of intense anxiety, drugs, alcohol, your average college au, opposite of slow burn, fluff which will make you scream, romantic jeno, loving jeno, a jeno who doesn’t really gaf about anyone but his girl, sweet boyfriend jeno, bestie yeonjun, yn and jeno paired for a uni project, touchy jeno, oral sex (receiving), throat fucking, blow job, hard dom jeno, sub reader, soft dom jeno, choking, riding, most loving kisses, reader sits on jenos face hehe, cute sex under the starlight on jenos trunk, jeno who rips off lingerie, protective jeno, jeno is horny, and a lot, his emotions, heart are all 110%, rough sex, choking, dirty talk, cute dates, girls who are bitches to yn :(, a jeno who gets so heartbroken and done dirty you’ll feel bad! gift giving, romantic gestures bf jeno

genre smut, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, opposites attract

please leave asks !!

check out the mfal ml here includes text posts, never seen before scenes and behind the scenes content <;3

✧ ✧ ✧

Walking onto campus, you take in the sights of the renowned university. The buildings exude academic excellence, and the lush greenery adds a touch of serenity. Despite the early hour, the campus is alive with students hurrying by, creating a vibrant atmosphere.

Heading towards the director's office, you enter the building, sensing the prestige in the air. Portraits of distinguished alumni line the walls, and the marble-floored corridor echoes with the soft sounds of footsteps.

As you approach the director's office, you're called in for your meeting, and a wave of nervousness washes over you. You keep your head low, arms crossed over your body and walking steadily calculated. You instinctively avoid making prolonged eye contact with others, instead of maintaining a steady gaze, your eyes started to dart away, seeking solace in the periphery.

The director's office door swings open, revealing Johnny Suh, a figure synonymous with success in the academic world. Young, rich, and undeniably handsome, his reputation precedes him. Though you hadn't initially seen the appeal, you find yourself momentarily awestruck by his commanding presence, his handsomeness leaving you astonished.

He spent a few minutes welcoming you to the University, giving some background information and useful tips that you were incredibly thankful for. Then the conversation takes a swift turn.

"Y/N, I hear you're one of the top psychology students in the country.” Johnny remarks, his voice carrying an air of authority that matches his status.

Humbled but unable to deny the truth, you nod in acknowledgment. "I'm honoured you acknowledge that.”

"It's your first day here, and I know you're probably not expecting this, but I see high potential in you," Johnny continues. "I wouldn't recommend this if I didn't believe you could handle it. It's going to be tough, but your strong work ethic, dedication, and time management will be of great assistance."

Confusion clouds your expression as Johnny hints at a challenge ahead. Before any clarification can be offered, the door swings open again, revealing a figure you immediately find intriguing. He enters with an air of nonchalance. His hooded eyes, half-asleep gaze, and ruffled, messy hair add to his effortlessly handsome appearance.

Dressed casually yet impeccably, his cheeks are hollow, and his sharp jawline gives him an alluring edge. There's an enigmatic darkness about him that you can't quite explain but find strangely magnetic. His attire is a perfect blend of casual and put together, highlighting his innate sense of style.

He looks right at you, and his gaze is captivating and strong. You feel an unexpected flutter as your eyes meet, his presence leaving an indelible mark on your first day. As your eyes meet, a surge of surprise flickers in his gaze, and you, feeling an unexpected flutter, try to conceal the sudden shyness.

He takes the vacant seat beside you, eyes not leaving yours and you almost feel your heart stop. He’s even more breathtaking in person. His allure is heightened, perhaps by the subtle nuances of his expressions, the captivating way he carries himself,

“You’re new?” he asks, his voice low and thick with a hint of weariness.

You nod, meeting his intense gaze. “Y/N.”

“Jeno.” he replies, a small smile playing on his lips.

Professor Suh stood at the front of the room, "Welcome, Y/N and Jeno. I'm thrilled to have you both on board for this groundbreaking project that merges engineering and psychology, your respective majors. Your unique skill sets will be crucial in creating something truly impactful."

“Jeno, your unexpected excellence in engineering sets you apart without the need for boasting. Your laid-back energy and ability to achieve high results with minimal effort make you an ideal candidate for this project. You'll complement Y/N's hardworking and determined nature as a perfect counterpart.”

“Y/N, on your first day as a transfer, my meticulous examination of your records and discussions with past professors leave me with no doubt about your suitability for this project. Your dedication, serious approach to education, and future planning give me high hopes. The stark difference between your hard work ethic and Jeno's laid-back attitude is precisely why I envision a successful collaboration. Jeno's ease will balance well with your commitment, creating a synergy that I believe will lead to exceptional outcomes. I look forward to seeing how your distinct qualities contribute to the success of this endeavour.”

He paced back and forth, gesturing to the screen displaying images of urban spaces and people engaging with technology. "We're embarking on an innovative project that centres around Virtual Reality Therapy. This groundbreaking initiative involves harnessing virtual reality technology to craft therapeutic environments for individuals dealing with stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. Y/N, given your background in psychology, your insights are pivotal. I encourage you to delve into understanding how people emotionally, socially, and culturally interact within these virtual therapeutic spaces as we pioneer this transformative approach."

Addressing Jeno, Professor Suh continued, "Jeno, your engineering expertise will play a vital role in translating the technical facets of our vision into reality. From efficient infrastructure to sustainable solutions and cutting-edge technology, I anticipate your innovative touch to shape and elevate this project."

As the excitement filled the room, Professor Suh's expression turned serious. "Now, a crucial point to address. Y/N and Jeno, I appreciate your collaboration, but it's important to maintain a professional boundary. Given the nature of this project, a personal relationship could introduce biases and conflicts of interest. Therefore, I must emphasize that you both cannot engage in a romantic relationship during the course of this project. We need clear focus and objectivity to make this endeavor a success."

The room fell momentarily silent as the weight of the statement settled. Professor Suh concluded, "I believe in your capabilities, and I'm confident that together, you can create something remarkable. Let's make a difference, not just in engineering and psychology, but in the lives of those who will benefit from our work."

Professor Suh continues with a firm but encouraging tone, “I expect each of you to approach this project with the dedication you’d give to a cherished hobby. I’ll be monitoring our progress weekly, and I want to see a well-structured timetable in place to ensure we’re on track.”

As the words lingered in the air, you were amazed. Your eyes reflected genuine enthusiasm for the challenge ahead. The prospect of making a positive impact resonated with you, and a subtle smile played on your lips.

On the other hand, Jeno wore an expression of the opposite. This collaborative endeavor seemed to hold little interest for him, and an air of mild dread crossed his features. The idea of putting in effort didn't align with his usual laid-back demeanor.

In this moment of contrasting emotions, you and Jeno shared a glance. Your bright-eyed enthusiasm met his more reserved skepticism. There, in that silent exchange, an unspoken understanding unfolded—an acknowledgment of your differing perspectives yet a recognition of the collaborative journey you were about to embark on. The dynamics between you two already hinted at the intriguing challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving the office together, you assumed Jeno, with his tired demeanor, would head off on his own. To your surprise, he turns to you, his hooded eyes meeting yours. The weariness in his expression contrasts with the kindness in his gaze, and your assumption fades as he wears a faint but warm smile.

In the dim light of the corridor, both your eyes meet, and unexpectedly, Jeno speaks, "It's your first day. Do you want me to show you around?" His voice, though a bit tired, carries a genuine offer.

You smile instinctively, grateful for the unexpected gesture. You nod.

Little did you know, Jeno's offer wasn't just about preventing you from getting lost. As he walks beside you, pointing out different buildings and sharing anecdotes, it becomes evident that he's intrigued by you. His questions about your interests and the way he attentively listens reveal a curiosity that goes beyond the simple act of guiding a new student. There's a subtle connection forming, and as you chat and laugh, the initial weariness in Jeno's eyes seems to fade, replaced by a genuine interest that neither of you can quite explain.

As Jeno points out various architectural details, his words flow with a quiet eloquence. "This is probably my favourite building, it’s a blend of neoclassical and modernist elements, I love the contrast. Can you see how the columns, though contemporary, draw inspiration from classical Greek design?”

Though you're not particularly interested in the intricacies of architecture, you find yourself captivated by the way Jeno speaks. His words, delivered with a smooth cadence, reveal a depth of understanding and an understated intelligence that intrigues you. You tune in more to the cadence of his voice, the rise and fall of each carefully chosen word, than to the specifics of the buildings he's describing.

"This structure is known for its sustainability," Jeno continues, gesturing towards another building. "The architect prioritized energy efficiency through the use of eco-friendly materials and innovative ventilation systems."

You nod, pretending to absorb the architectural information, but in reality, you're more attuned to the way Jeno effortlessly conveys his knowledge. His eloquence paints a picture of someone who possesses not only a keen eye for design but also a refined ability to articulate complex concepts. In the midst of the architectural tour, you find yourself appreciating not just the buildings but the subtle intelligence that radiates from Jeno's well-spoken descriptions.

There’s another reason why you feel out of tune when he’s speaking, it’s because all you can feel is stares. As you walk beside Jeno, so many peering eyes follow your direction, the weight of gazes lingers, making you feel out of tune with his words. The countless stares create a sense of unease, prompting you to cut him off. "Why is everyone staring?" you ask Jeno, confusion evident in your voice.

"They're not," he shakes his head reassuringly, but you know better – they are. He offers a kind smile, attempting to soothe your discomfort. "You're just shy. It's your first day."

Jeno notices subtle signs of distress in you as your hands tremble, breaths quicken and a flicker of unease in your eyes. Despite not fully understanding the reasons, an instinctive urge compels him to offer comfort. Maybe it's the sincerity in your gaze or the vulnerability that surfaces.

Jeno’s hand delicately finding its place on your chin. Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen in response to the unexpected touch. Yet, as your gaze meets his, a juxtaposing warmth begins to unfold. It’s a warmth you can’t quite explain, a comforting sensation that weaves through the panic.

His soft yet dark eyes look deep into yours. Jeno’s voice, a seductive and hushed whisper, slices through the ambient noise. “Just keep looking at me. Keep your eyes on me.” His words intensify the warmth, a juxtaposition to the escalating panic within you. It’s as though Jeno’s mere presence, coupled with his soothing touch and whispered guidance, forms a shield against the prying stares.

In that moment, the panic subsides, and your attention becomes tethered to Jeno. There’s an unspoken understanding in his gaze, a silent promise that despite the sea of eyes, his focus is a haven of reassurance. The inexplicable warmth persists, becoming a sanctuary within the storm of attention, and you find solace in the connection he forges amidst the overwhelming gaze of others.

Your first impression of Lee Jeno is so good. Truthfully, you’re not a people’s person. You stay to yourself, you have an incredibly small circle and you don’t particularly enjoy socialising, you rather stay inside and read a book or study. You didn’t expect to bond with someone on your first day like you had bonded with Jeno. You learned a considerable amount about him. He loved architecture even though he studied engineering, he was quite a nerd. He wants to be a pilot when he graduates, his favourite food is sushi (like yours) and he has an older sister. You even exchanged numbers, you told him to text you whenever he had a question about the project.

A sigh of relief escapes as you finally step into the comforting embrace of your home. Your social battery is drained, and with each steady breath, you revel in the tranquillity within familiar wall, immediately heading over to the fridge for some comfort food.

Proud of yourself, you reflect on succeeding through the challenges of your first day in a completely new city and university. There's a sense of accomplishment in not retreating to the bathroom but facing the day head-on. Making a friend, or at least someone you're excited about, (you’re not sure if he counts as a friend yet).

Truthfully, you find yourself thinking about him, Jeno. A smile lingering on your face like an idiot. The moment you sink into your bed, the cushions engulfing you, you can't contain the giddy excitement. Kicking your feet like a teenager, you revel in the warmth of the accomplishment.

Sure, he may be dreamy and handsome, and you playfully curse yourself for finding him so but hey, you're just a girl, and there's a certain charm in embracing those girly feelings amidst the challenges of a new day.

As you're about to dim the lights and start your favorite romcom, "Notting Hill," the ambiance carefully set with food and opening credits, the front door slams, causing you to nearly drop your bowl of popcorn. Startled, you turn to find your roommate, Choi Yeonjun, entering. His features look shocked, and your gaze instinctively scans the room before freezing when you realize his intensity is directed at you.

Without a greeting, his loud voice rings through the room, "Why the hell am I hearing that Lee Jeno walked you around campus this morning?"

You raise your brows in confusion. How did he find out? "Is he some celebrity or something?"

Yeonjun chuckles, giving you a judgmental look, treating your question as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "News travels like the plague when it’s concerning Lee Jeno, Y/N. He's a big deal, the campus enigma. Probably the most popular and wanted guy around. He and his friends practically rule the institution. Notorious, but in a good way. He's like that guy in teen movies. He throws parties and he fucks everyone. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know? Didn't everyone stare?"

Your mouth widens in shock, you genuinely thought that Yeonjun was lying but it’s clear he’s not. Jeno had seemed like the most far from popular person ever, he seemed down to earth and friendly and he was such a nerd! The mental image of Jeno walking you around campus this morning, discussing architecture with genuine passion, clashes with the idea of a campus legend. He had felt so approachable, and the revelation triggers a whirlwind of thoughts as you grapple with this unexpected side of him. The stark contrast between perception and reality leaves you in a state of genuine disbelief.

You answer your roommate's question after a while of silence. “Everyone was staring but he just brushed it off while I was shitting myself. It makes sense now! He acted so calm because he’s used to the stares.”

Red rose to your cheeks as you thought about his sweet gesture earlier, a smile plastered on your smile. “He was really sweet though, he reassured me in such a cute way, his hands touched my face and he whispered in my ear –”

Yeonjun screams and it gives you whiplash. “GIRL! NO!” He shakes his head, acting as if you’re committing arson.

“Why not?” You question, your voice a low whisper as you frown.

Yeonjun is flabbergasted as he explains. “He’s a player, he’s a fuckboy. He practically fucks anyone with a pussy and apparently he doesn’t get into relationships. Plus, apparently he can be really intense and full on, especially when he’s high, yeah, he gets high and wasted. He throws all these notorious parties and to be fair, I’ve been to some of them and they’re great but it’s a lot of drugs, alcohol, smoking and couples fucking. I’m not kidding. He’s very extroverted and confident but in quite a sexy and slick back way, yeah he’s really fucking hot and I can see that you already think that. I just think you should keep your distance, Y/N, if I’m being honest, he’s the opposite of you.”

The weight of Yeonjun’s words settles heavily in the room, leaving you in another silence. The dissonance between the Jeno you thought you knew and the reality presented by Yeonjun leaves you grappling with a mix of shock, disappointment, and a lingering sense of disbelief.

Yeonjun apologizes when he senses your mood shift, but you brush it off, recognizing it's not his fault. You thank him for being a good friend and giving you a heads up.

As your roommate, Yeonjun is the opposite of you—outgoing, always taking you out to explore the city, and a great person to chat with. He has a boyfriend named Soobin, who happens to be an excellent cook. Despite how loud they are and the amount of times you’ve walked into them in questionable positions, you can't help but envy their relationship—they're your idea of couple goals.

✧ ✧ ✧

The professor, passionately discussing human interactions, captivates your attention until the door swings open abruptly. Your eyes widen as you're shocked to find Jeno entering, eyes locking onto yours. He appears well-dressed, his hair slightly messy, tight black shirt and his pupils dilated.

Despite the stares from the seminar attendees, he remains unfazed. "There you are, you gave me the wrong number, you idiot.” he declares, catching you off guard. In this unexpected moment, you reflect on Yeonjun's warning, realizing that Jeno's demeanour speaks volumes—confidence exudes from him. You would’ve never thought this earlier but since Yeonjun’s warning, you’ve been replaying his campus tour in your head and it’s clear that he’s confident, it’s crazy how one opinion can completely transform an existing opinion.

"How did you find me?"

His response is curt, "Doesn't matter. It’s a good time to start on the project now. I’m quite busy for the next few months so I’d be thankful if you were able to dedicate the next month or so to making good progress.” As he seamlessly transitions into discussing the project, he proves to be well-spoken and sweet.

You nod. “Of course.”

He smiles and mutters a thank you. “Give me your phone quickly.” You gulp as he puts his number in your phone, telling you that he’s added the dates to your calendar on when you’ll work together for the project, telling you to message him if you need to adjust them.

He poses the question, "Your house or mine?" An audible gulp escapes you before hesitantly suggesting, "Um… the library?"

Jeno laughs, "Can we talk there?"

You agree, "Okay, then my house."

Without waiting for your reply, he turns around, leaving you to process his abrupt departure. "See you tonight," he calls over his shoulder, disappearing as swiftly as he entered.

✧ ✧ ✧

Jeno has been coming over to work with you nearly every day. He drives.

You’ve grown quite… intrigued (if you say attracted then Yeonjun will get Heejin to hit you) by his kind gestures. He always brings over food and your favourite coffee. You told him your favourite coffee once, it was just something you said in passing and you didn’t expect him to actually remember and then start a ritual of regularly buying it for you.

His company is one that you find yourself growing attached to, you’re comfortable around him. You’re surprised how quickly you’ve gotten used to him, it’s rare for someone like you to warm up to a stranger so quickly.

His work ethic is the main thing that has you incredibly intrigued by him. He’s never late to your study sessions, he’s always engaged and every idea he has exceeds brilliance.

The sides of his lips curve up at your planning. “So cute.” He whispers under his breath, watching you as your brows furrowed in concentration, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you bring out the right folder, it was a massive baby blue one, labelled ‘Y/N’s and Jeno’s Virtual Reality Therapy project,’ in the most prettiest cursive writing, different types of stickers, butterflies, hearts and ribbons, accessorising the front.

“I have so many folders, I colour coordinate them all but it’s still so difficult to remember which is which.” You say with a heavy puff, Jeno taking the hefty folder from your hands and placing it on the well lit and presented study table in front of you.

He learns that you take studying very seriously, you’re always revising. You take pride in your notes, you gave him a tour of all your revision material and he’s never seen someone talk about studying with such a grin on their face, all your notes were so well written and organised, it gives him a new wave of awe for you.

“So, let’s brainstorm our ideas. So I said that we need to ensure that each virtual space is personalised to resonate with users emotionally, this could involve customizable elements like scents, sounds, and visuals to enhance the therapeutic experience. This helps with mindfulness. We can incorporate guided mindfulness exercises, providing users with tools to manage stress and anxiety within the virtual environment.”

Your lips automatically turn sour when you turn the page over in the written plans you’ve made, Jeno lets out a laugh when he sees why. It’s the engineering side to the project, you’ve made it clear that his major is something that you may never understand and have zero interest in. “I’ll let you talk about these ideas.” You wince, Jeno’s rough handwriting nearly making you cry.

“So we’re gonna implement advanced AI algorithms. These algorithms would adapt to user responses and needs, providing personalised guidance.”

You squeal, nearly jumping out of your seat and he looks at you with amazed eyes. You just had a lightbulb moment. You grin and clap your hands excitedly as you speak. “I just thought of an amazing idea, what if we create a way of facilitating connections among users who share similar therapeutic goals? We should aim to incorporate it, the sense of community can bring people together for additional support, they can assist on each other's journey towards mental well-being.”

Your turn to him pleading, lips in a pout as you give him the cutest puppy eyes you can muster. “Pleaseeee tell me you can make it work from your side, if you so no, I might cry.”

It takes Jeno a while to reply because he’s thinking, thinking about you. No one else would get this happy over thinking of a good idea, he finds you endearing and cute, you’re something that warms any darkness in his heart.

When you call out his name, he finally responds with a nod. “I’ll just need to create a way where users have autonomy to shape their therapeutic experiences and who they want to share it with. I can do that easily with database software, no problem.” You sigh and thank him, turning to the side and watching him as he furrows his nose, jotting down notes, a lot of mathematics and science that looks foreign to you.

“It’s a good idea, Y/N. Therapy is proven to work the best when you have someone to lean on.”

You nod like a siren as he speaks, following every word and never finding a fault, he is so smart. He always has good ideas, you’re amazed at how he can keep up with the psychology side to the project while you struggle to understand the engineering side to it. He works so hard and honestly seeing him in his element has made him even more attractive.

“Let’s take a break.” His words break your enchantment. You nod, he’s consistently been reminding you to take breaks and to be drinking your fluids.

“Do you wanna help Yeonjun cook?” You question, a small smirk playing on your lips at the change in his expression, his eyes lighting up and it makes you laugh hard.

“He’s here?”

“Yeah, he lives here.” You say sarcastically.

Unexpectedly, he, Yeonjun and Soobin get along like they’ve known each other for years. It all started when Yeonjun nearly burned the kitchen down in a cooking disaster. Jeno, like the genius that he is, salvaged the kitchen from going up in flames and salvaged the meal. It was the best meal you’ve had in your life. You’re not surprised that he was a talented chef, you’re growing to learn that he’s good at everything and it’s without effort.

Ever since then, Yeonjun and Jeno have started cooking together. It’s more like Yeonjun failing to follow the recipes, Jeno doing most of the work and then Soobin having to comfort his pouting boyfriend because he just wants to be able to cook one meal without fucking it up. You overhear the three of them in the kitchen sometimes. three people from complete different backgrounds but they bond and share stories, their laughter always making your heart yearn.

You and Jeno have the cooked meal in your room as you were studying at the same time. You grab your phone from your pocket, going onto Instagram and getting the delicious meal in your camera angle. You feel his eyes on you before he speaks. “I wanna follow you.”

You exchanged socials with Jeno and though it was difficult to fully control yourself as he was sitting right next to you, you were so close to hitting your head against a wall, anything to stop your head from buzzing.

The first thing you notice is the amount of followers he has, a whopping 5589, your 95 followers seemed silly in comparison. The second thing you notice is his feed. You have to bite your tongue from screaming. It’s absolute filth. Delicious filth. Your eyes light up at it and you admit, it’s sexy but you’re also wondering how the hell this was the same person.

Your eyes hover over countless shirtless photos, photos in the gym, at the beach, he had a physique that deserved this amount of posts. He had countless photos of him partying, drinking, loads where he’s just posing and he looks so handsome, like a model. His face belonged in runaways, so did his body. Your eyes also grow wide at how well styled he is in these photos, his poses natural, only he can pull this off.

“You have so many photos with that damn teddy.” You gulp when you realise that he was probably stalking your account just like you did to his, you now regret being so glued to your phone and his feed as you missed his reactions to your own feed.

“Do you wanna know why?” You continue when he nods. “I love travelling, it’s when I’m happiest. I love trying new food, seeing the culture, I love getting a break. This teddy has been with me since day 1, through thick and thin, so it means a lot to me that it’s also experienced some of my best memories with me. I make it tradition to take a photo in front of the country that I’m visiting biggest landmark, holding Theo.”

Jeno looks at the teddy bear with genuine admiration, his smile growing more tender. "It's worn out.” you mumble, a hint of apology in your voice. "But it's still sentimental," he says, understanding the value it holds for you. The moment feels beautiful, Jeno holding something that carries so many memories and brings you comfort.

As he looks at the teddy bear, you decide this is a memory worth capturing. "The tradition is taking a photo with my teddy, so..." you trail off, grabbing your camera.

Jeno, intrigued, asks, "What's the special landmark this time?"

You pause, then playfully respond, "My bed," only realising how it might sound after the words leave your mouth.

Flustered, you try to clarify, "I didn't mean—"

But Jeno finds it amusing, his laughter filling the room. "It's okay," he reassures you, still smiling. As the laughter lingers, you seize the moment, capturing it with a click of the camera. The soft bear rests in Jeno's hands, and he's caught in the act of laughing, his focus off the camera as he gazes at you.

Excitement builds as you show him the photo, his expression unreadable. However, there's a fondness in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Send me it," he requests, and before the words fully leave his mouth, the photo is already on his phone. It's a moment frozen in time, a memory shared, and a connection deepening between you and Jeno.

As the laughter subsides, a profound stillness envelops the room. Your gaze locks with Jeno's, and suddenly, everything else fades into the background. There's an intensity in the air, and it's as if a cascade of unspoken thoughts and feelings clouds your minds, creating a shared moment that defies explanation.

In the midst of this intimate silence, you find the courage to break it. Your voice, a mere whisper, carries the weight of vulnerability, "You know, I don't let anyone touch my teddy. His name is Theo." The admission hangs there, lingering, as the depth of trust and connection grows between you and Jeno. In that shared gaze, you both seem to get lost, lost in a space where time slows, and the world outside becomes a mere backdrop.

Finally, breaking the spell, you continue, "You're the first who's held him other than me." The words bridge the unspoken gap between you, sealing a bond that laughter and shared moments have forged. It's a moment both intense and intimate, etched in the quiet exchange of looks and the admission of something so personal.

Later that night, after Jeno had left, you find yourself scrolling through Instagram. Your heart races when you spot the latest post on your feed. A smile spreads across your face as you click on Jeno's profile, and the photo you took of him stands out in contrast to his usually serious and cohesive theme. It adds a touch of brightness and spontaneity.

Lee Jeno

*Image Attached*

Me and Theo :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Lee Jeno had seamlessly become a constant presence in your life, transcending the boundaries of your initial collaboration on the project. Friendship had blossomed, revealing layers of connection that went beyond the academic realm.

In the quietude of your shared space, you both spent countless hours together, revealing your true selves. Jeno’s kindness became something you grew incredibly attracted to. This became evident when Chaewon went through a tough breakup, and Jeno, true to his protective nature, comforted her in such a perfect way, he also held Chanhee accountable for his actions.

One evening, as the moon hung high in the sky, Jeno confided in you about his involvement in charity work, your mouth opening wide when you realise he works closely with the exact charity that you hold close to your heart. The revelation sparked a conversation that stretched into the early hours of the morning. Plans for the future unfolded organically, with both of you promising that you’d work hard so you could have a more active role in the charity, side by side. You even helped each other fill out the application for a post–graduate scheme the charity runs.

There were nights when words weren't necessary. The silence that enveloped you both wasn't awkward; instead, it became a source of comfort. Jeno cared for you in ways that transcended the project work. He brushed your hair, knowing it pained you to do it yourself. He cooked for you, he cleaned for you.

His caring nature extended to the smallest details—reminding you to take breaks during study sessions, massaging your hair and neck and personally ensuring you stayed hydrated by placing your water bottle in front of your lips every now and then. Jeno became attuned to your needs, completing small errands when the weight of your busy schedule became overwhelming.

As the night wore on, thoughts of Jeno lingered in your mind. You think about him all night long. His kindness had woven its way into the fabric of your daily life, making his presence as essential as the air you breathed. The bond you shared, born out of shared projects, charity work, and late-night conversations, had grown into something deeper—a connection that defied definition but spoke volumes in the language of shared glances, comfortable silences, and unwavering support.

In the hushed hours of the night, the doorbell's familiar chime cut through the silence, announcing Jeno's unannounced presence. It was 1am, this wasn’t unusual, it could only be him.

As the door closed behind him, Jeno's gaze found you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he licked them. "You look hot.” he declared, eliciting a flutter of giddiness within you. Blushing, you responded, "Stop it." Yet Jeno's playful persistence only deepened.

A hint of tipsiness clung to him, altering the atmosphere with a subtle shift in demeanour. Jeno's eyes, unable to look away from you, held a different intensity. "Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he whispered seductively.

Shaking your head, you admitted, "It feels good.” embracing the newfound confidence his attention bestowed upon you. The sexy dress and meticulous makeup became a canvas, painting you in a different light.

“Does it feel good? Yeah?” His words lingered in the air, stirring emotions you were still discovering.

Your cheeks become red, quickly changing the topic. "Heejin was just bored and said she wanted to give me a makeover," you explained, attempting to divert attention from your newfound allure.

"Mmm," Jeno responded, his eyes revealing a flicker of something different. Captivated and a bit tipsy, his gaze lingered on you with newfound intensity. “I was gonna come over so we could do some work, but I feel quite distracted.” Jeno confessed, his eyes still locked on you. The suggestion of a new plan flickered in his gaze.

"You look good, let me take a photo." he proposed, and you found yourself becoming Jeno's muse. His skilled hands orchestrated the scene, capturing a moment blending sensuality with artistry. The photo, zoomed in, portrayed your cleavage adorned with a faint lace veil, jewelry perfectly placed, and his delicate touch moving your fingers over your chest, adding a new allure. As the camera clicked, the image froze in time, encapsulating a night of unexpected comforts and unspoken connections.

In the dimly lit room, the ambiance shifted as Jeno's intense gaze lingered on you. "You're beautiful." he uttered, his voice a low and seductive whisper that hung in the air. The atmosphere grew charged with an unspoken tension as his fingertips delicately traced over your fingers, still resting on your chest. A subtle chill accompanied the graze of his thumb over your rings, an act that heightened the intimacy of the moment.

Trapped in the magnetic pull of his gaze, you found yourself getting lost in the depths of each other's eyes. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in a silent exchange of emotions. The unspoken connection between you both spoke volumes, the touch of fingers and the locked gaze creating a romantic dance that transcended words. In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still, encapsulating the beauty of a moment suspended in the quiet acknowledgment of shared feelings.

Later that night you lay restless, head flat on your pillow, contemplating the desire to kick Jeno. Countless sleepless nights had been because of him, you keep thinking about earlier. As if summoned by your contemplation, your phone lit up, confirming your intuition—it was Jeno.

✧ ✧ ✧

Heejin insisted there was something brewing between you and Jeno, emphasizing the exchanged glances and the countless hours you spent together. Initially, Yeonjun and Soobin dismissed her claims, but once she managed to sway their opinions, you found yourself accused by three people of harbouring feelings for Lee Jeno.

Rather than denying it, you acknowledge the undeniable allure of Jeno. Who wouldn’t be captivated by him? He’s truly one of a kind. However, your feelings for him remain a fantasy, an unrealistic dream. “Even if I do, Heejin, he would never go for me.”

Heejin rolls her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Soobin, wearing a puzzled expression, questions you, “Why do you say that?”

“It’s what Yeonjun said to me. He said that he’s a fuckboy, he doesn’t get into relationships and doesn’t want anything serious. Plus, I don’t fit into his scene. We have a lot of fun in my house but I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with him or his friends on campus apart from the occasional small talk, it kinda sucks…”

You regularly find yourself thinking about Yeonjun’s warning and it surprises you because the Lee Jeno you had gotten to know was so different from that. He was kind, caring and thoughtful, you couldn’t imagine him as a notorious fuck boy but if you were being fully honest to yourself, it did make sense. There was no denying that he was horny and incredibly sexual, nor was there denying his unbeatable looks and the attention his presence attracts.

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I can’t believe what I said either. He’s completely different to what I stereotyped him as. He’s still the most popular guy on campus but he’s actually a really sweet and down to earth guy, you know? He cares about his studies but he also cares about having fun, that’s why he always gets high and parties. He’s really humble and having one to one conversations with him is actually life changing, I see why Y/N spends most of her time with him. I’m not gonna lie, I think I’m catching feelings.” Yeonjun laughs, claiming the last bit was a lie, wincing when Soobin smacks him on the head.

“I heard he’s stopped sleeping around, Seoyeon and Nagyung tried to initiate something with him but he turned them down, he’s been turning a lot of people down which is unlike him.” Heejin says, clearly she’s heard all the gossip.

“Why?” You whisper in a faint voice.

The three of them exchange amused glances, and before you can fully grasp the situation, you let out a heavy sigh, accompanied by a crying noise.

“I want him,” you admit, tears welling up as you cry out, letting your emotions take over. Uncertain about why you’re reacting this way, you simply know you can’t deny it any longer – you’ve fallen completely and utterly for him.

Heejin wraps you in a warm hug. “Why are you crying?”

In confusion, a hint of hysteria in your voice, you shake your head. “I don’t know! I just want him.”

The weeks continue and you and Jeno have made good progress on your project, you still spend a lot of time together. There’s a shift in the atmosphere and air now as you actively like him, you try to fight back your feelings when interacting with him but you act on them, in the worst possible way, in fear and awkwardness.

You’re different around him. You don’t know if he can notice it. You confuse yourself, you also confuse Heejin and Yeonjun, who are the only ones who know about your unrequited and secret feelings and you made them promise to not tell anyone (Soobin knows).

You undeniably act crazy, for some reason that’s beyond you, you try and play matchmaker for him. “There’s a girl in my class who’s really pretty and cute, she’s sweet and she’ll suit you. Her name is Karina, do you know her?” You question words that should sound sweet and helpful but there’s a disconnection as you speak.

He shakes his head immediately, “I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why you’re so adamant. “But I heard you like going for girls? She’s a girl, I think she’s interested in you as well.”

He turns it down once again. “I’m sick of all the fucking, maybe I just want something serious.” You wonder if his words are directed at you, or are you delusional? Self doubt fills you, your thoughts attacking and fighting against what you feel in your heart. You’re not his type. He would never go for you.

The atmosphere shifts, leaving you in a state of confusion and anxiety. Trying to deflect, you push, “She’s really pretty, like the prettiest girl on campus.”

“I think you’re prettier,” he says softly, his gaze fixed on you. The air turns serious and intimate as his words linger, weaving into the ambiance, creating a moment where your anxiety and overthinking become almost palpable.

✧ ✧ ✧

What you don’t realise is that Jeno fell for your first.

Underneath the soft glow of string lights in your cozy living room, Jeno sits beside you on the couch. The air is filled with the familiar scent of popcorn, and the soft melody of "About Time" starts playing on the TV. As the scenes of the epic love story unfold, Jeno's eyes occasionally flicker to the screen, but more often, they're drawn to you.

You're completely absorbed in the movie, blissfully unaware of the fact that Jeno has not paid attention to the plot at all, he’s watching you, experiencing a beautiful story unfolding right in front of him. He knows he's fallen in deep when the realisation hits him like a wave.

It’s not like you can complain about his lack of attention towards the screen, it’s not like you paid attention when he made you watch his choice of movie, some geeky sci-fi that you fell asleep to less than halfway through.

The warm, dim light accentuates the gentle curve of your smile as you feed him popcorn, turning to face him and smiling every now and then. He's mesmerised by the way your eyes light up with each romantic scene, and he can't help but smile in response.

The soft giggle that escapes your lips becomes music to his ears, and he finds himself captivated by the subtle nuances of your laughter. The way you effortlessly create an atmosphere of comfort and joy leaves him in awe.

Jeno tries to make sense of the fluttering sensation in his chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. Falling for someone wasn't part of his usual narrative, yet here he is, embracing the complexity of emotions. Your kindness, the shared moments, and the discoveries of common ground are etching memories in his heart.

Despite your differences, the attraction grows stronger. He admires your calmness, a sanctuary he craves, while you find solace in his fearless spirit. Yet, the walls of your connection seem confined to the space within your house, and Jeno feels a longing to extend it beyond.

He suggests hanging out outside, but each invitation is met with your dedication to studies. Parties and town visits are dismissed with a polite reminder of your academic commitments. Jeno understands, even though he wishes to be part of your world beyond the books.

The realisation settles in—he should dislike someone whose life revolves around studying, but he can't bring himself to feel anything but admiration. The mystery of why he's drawn to you, combined with the unspoken tension between you two, leaves Jeno questioning the unexpected turn of his feelings.

He confided in his childhood best friend, the one who knows him the best, Na Jaemin.

Jeno sits on Jaemin’s bed, frustration etched on his face as he scrolls through your social media feed. Each picture elicits a sweet smile from him, and he can’t deny the growing warmth in his chest every time he thinks about you.

“What the fuck is happening to me, Jaemin?” Jeno blurts out, his gaze fixed on your adorable posts. “I never thought I’d fall for her, and now I’m planning our future and naming our hypothetical children.”

The words sound almost surreal as they leave his lips, and Jeno can’t believe he’s uttering such sentiments. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened his inhibitions, his attempt to drown his feelings gone awry as thoughts of you flood his mind.

Frustrated, he barges into Jaemin’s room, pouring out his heart about his unexpected attraction, his desire for you, and the constant presence of your thoughts haunting him.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” Jaemin inquires, assessing his friend’s dilemma.

“I don’t know,” Jeno confesses, uncertainty clouding his expression. The beating sensation in his heart felt so foreign.

“Is this normal?” Jeno asks, his voice laced with fear.

Jaemin can’t help but laugh at the irony. “This is the most normal you’ve ever been.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t know how you found yourself indoors on a Friday night, laying on your bed, Lee Jeno beside you, as he talks to you about his favourite sex position.

“I love them all. The doggy, I love being able to touch everything, hips, tits, boobs, while I pound into the pussy like crazy. I love being restrained and tied up. I love when I’m choked or when I choke. I love when someone rides me, uses me to get off, doesn’t let me touch them. Fuck. But I also love sucking on titties while my dick is being bounced up and down on. Y/N, I just love sex.” He finishes with a satisfied sigh, playful eyes looking deep into yours, not breaking contact for even a second as he speaks.

He chuckles, “You?”

You nearly choke. “I – I don’t have as much experience as you but I just like plain old missionary, you know? I like looking into someone's eyes as we’re making love. I crave feeling loved and seen, I want every inch of my body kissed, I want a connection so deep that every worry fades away. I just want to feel loved and appreciated, you know?”

Jeno’s silent, his eyes turning dim as he sees you in a new light. It’s the way he’s looking at you. You blush, your eyes inviting him in a soft whisper. He hums and nods in agreement. “You’re adorable.” His finger moves to nudge your nose and you do the same to him.

“So you’re not a needy slut?” His unexpected change of subject makes you choke. You jab him in the chest, shaking your head, tongue prodding the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with a playfulness. “I always imagined you as one…” He mumbles, his firm grip on your face conveys a powerful desire for your unwavering attention, a silent plea for you to remain captivated by his gaze.

You roll your eyes. “Just because I want to feel loved by my partner doesn’t mean that I don’t have a freaky side.” You pout, crossing your arms as you refuse to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not my fault that I haven’t been given the opportunity to explore that side of me. I mean sure, I want to have crazy sex but when you’re as inexperienced as me, I mean, call me boring but my body count is only 1. What’s yours?”

He ignores your question, asking his own. “You’re not a virgin?” His tone comes across as more perplexing and shocked than he would’ve wanted but when he realises that you’ve not taken it the wrong way, instead you burst out in laughter, he sighs a breath of relief. His eyes light up at how precious your laugh is, it pulls at his heart string and makes him yearn for something that utterly and truly confuses him.

“I used to have a boyfriend.” You mumble, looking down and picking at your nail, a sense of loss in your voice which gives Jeno an unusual tear in his insides. He’s used to seeing you nervous but it still makes him wish he could take everything away.

“Hey.” He smiles, a sweet tone and his gentle fingers come underneath your chin, softly caressing the skin as he turns your face to look his way. Gone were the days where you’d break away from his intimate eye contact due to feeling butterflies. Though the fluttering sensation remains, there’s now an endearing quality that compels you to keep looking.

He doesn’t need to ask for you to open up and explain, you do that without a second thought now, that’s how comfortable you’ve become with him. “It was my first relationship, my first kiss, my first – you know.” You laugh awkwardly and he widens his eyes, tongue prodding against his cheek in annoyance. Why the hell is he annoyed?

“It was perfect. I mean – it seemed perfect. We were so different, in no world could I imagine being together. He was a lot more adventurous than I was, in a lot of ways. He used to party a lot, he had a very big friend group, he was really outgoing and social. He always used to receive so much attention and then obviously me, the only girl he’s ever settled down with, became the negative side of that attention that he got.”

“I realised that our differences didn’t make us an ideal match. I really wanted us to work, I wanted to prove to myself that the person you love doesn’t have to have the same likes and interests as you, because what’s the fun in that? I wanted to fall so badly in love with the world that he was in, I wanted to become familiar with it but it was too much for me. I used to get so overwhelmed with anxiety and pressure, I found myself acting so unlike myself, I didn’t want to change who I was for him but I ended up on that path. I mean, we broke up before it got extreme. It would’ve been easier if he was a cruel person but he wasn’t, he isn’t. I think I realised that I couldn’t put up with his hectic lifestyle, it all just became a bit too much. Sometimes, though, I felt like that relationship ate away at my self worth and that I begin to matter less and less. I feel like I was never good enough –“

“Don’t you ever say that.” He interrupts, not letting you undermine yourself. As he senses your silence and the stillness on your face, he inches closer. It’s now you who can’t tear your gaze away from him, your heart beats as you feel the warmth of his body. He gently wipes away a falling tear, the warmth of his eyes not leaving yours for a second. His hands then securing your shoulders. He pulls you into a warm embrace, you break into sobs, held tightly in his comforting softness.

You’re not sure when but the comfort in the touches escalated to a level that felt unusual for ‘friends’ but it felt so normal for the two of you.

He lays down on your bed, cushioned by the dozen pillows surrounded by you guys but the main thing warming his heart was your body pressed on top of his, your head tucked into the crevice of his neck as he smooths your hair. He occasionally drops kisses to your temple, his reason being that you were crying and he knows your number one comfort in the world is physical touch but he’s run out of his excuse when you stop crying.

You pout against his skin when he suddenly stops smoothing out your hair, he chuckles and immediately starts once again. What you don’t know is that his heart momentarily stopped as your lips made contact with your skin. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced, the flutter of butterflies in his stomach, the quickened beat of his heart like a melody finding its rhythm.

Your eyes meet in a silent exchange, an intimate haven A warmth envelops the air as your gazes intertwine, feelings that make sense, feelings that don’t make sense. The atmosphere is gentle, like a comforting breeze that whispers sweet secrets. In that tender moment, time seems to slow, and the world around you fades into a soft blur.

He rests his palm against your cheek, the contact making a genuine smile spread across your face as you lean into the touch, your cheek rubbing against his palm as you let out a hum of satisfaction. His other hand continues caressing your hair, you normally would’ve been annoyed as he was making fresh hair greasy but you can’t find it in you to act on that, especially not when he’s looking at you the way he is right now.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you say you’re not good enough, ok?” He says and his tone is comforting yet strict, it was conflicting in a way. He nudges your nose with his thumb. “You’re my favourite person right now.”

You nod, looping your arms around his neck in a bid to get closer. “I promise, I won’t.”

He goes silent then tuts, huffing in disbelief. “What about me?” He questions, offended. He’s exaggerating, he’s doing it to make you laugh and he hasn’t failed.

“You’re my favourite person right now too.” You admit, your heart is weighed down with emotion and your voice reveals your depth of feelings

“Did he treat you well?” Jeno asks, brows furrowing in concern, his protective stance making you smile.

“It’s complicated. Sexually, it wasn’t the best. After the relationship passed I realised that my needs and desires weren’t pleased the way I deserved them to be. It was always me getting down on my knees, I think I cummed like twice in the entire three months. It was just –”

“You deserve better than that.”

Jeno's intense gaze deepens, pupils dilating with a mixture of empathy and resolve. "You deserve better than that. You’re so fucking beautiful and intelligent. You’re so cherished. You deserve the best sex that anyone can ever give you, every need met. You deserve to cum a thousand times a night. I promise I’ll show you.” The tension in the air grows thicker as he leans in closer to you, just when you think he’s gonna kiss you, he smiles, his promise carrying a soft reassurance. It’s one that confuses you but you can’t deny the way your eyes lit up and the soreness of your cheeks from smiling.

A silence passes and it’s both exciting and terrifying. He’s never looked at you like this before. You want to ask him what he’s feeling, to act in the way that he’s looking at you and holding you but a part of you doesn’t have the confidence for that yet.

“Now you need to tell me, what’s up with everyone telling me you’re a fuckboy?” You question him, a poor way on your behalf to move the conversation forward.

You can see that he’s taken aback by your question in his eyes but they twinkle nonetheless. “I just love having sex.” He answers quickly and bluntly, eyes deep into yours as he reveals his truth, you try to laugh off your nerves but his gaze is locking with such intensity into yours. He chuckles at your reaction, at how red and flustered you’ve become. He loves this.

“I’m not a fuckboy though. You know me, you don’t think I’m mean, do you?”

You shake your head immediately, gulping and tearing your eyes from him as he calls you a good girl. He means it harmlessly but it fucks with your head. You quickly talk to ignore the racing beat of your heart. “You’re so sweet and kind to me – ” You laugh, stopping mid sentence to pinch his cheeks which to your surprise, he doesn’t even stop you from doing. “But Jeno… I’ve seen you be quite unfriendly to other people.”

“They deserve it.” He answers with no hesitation.

“I still don’t get why everyone kept speaking about you like you were a notorious fuckboy, you know so many people warned me to stay away from you, I obviously didn’t listen.”

He sighs, scratching his neck. “They’re just jealous that we get along so well but it doesn’t bother me because at the end of the day, we’re making the best memories together. And people don’t know the true story, they just comment on what they see and assume the worst. I’m not a fuckboy like that. Yeah sure, I like, well I used to like sleeping around but I was never a ‘rude fuck boy’. I have respect for each and every girl I sleep with, I make sure they’re cared for, before and after we’re fucking, that they feel good at all times whilst they’re with me. I make sure they don’t feel like I’m just using them for sex even though I don’t want anything further with these girls, I make it clear that the only thing I’m looking for is good sex and they always know that before going into it with me, it avoids disappointment and high expectations. Although I’ve had problems before, it doesn’t matter.”

He explains and a silence follows. You have so many thoughts, so many questions you want to ask and you don’t know where to start but before you know it, one is spilling from your lips before you can properly think of what you’re asking. “Why did you stop?”

He hums, looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“You said you ‘used’ to like fucking around, why have you stopped?”

“What do you think?”

You hiss in annoyance, he’s normally always keen to explain and talk through everything and anything to you so why is he being so secretive and blunt right now? You don’t understand why he’s keeping his words to a minimum.

“I don’t know so can you stop being so –”

“How am I supposed to have sex with these girls when I’m wishing that they were you?”

In the warm, charged air, their breaths mix like a dance, full of longing. Just a few words reshape everything. It's weird – no nerves or awkwardness, just a flutter in your heart, embraced in the moment. He holds you with strong arms, bodies fitting together perfectly. His captivating eyes connect with yours deeply. It feels just right, a special moment.

"Jeno," you say softly, and he responds with a hum.

"Yeah. I want you," he says, his thumb gently touching your bottom lip.

His radiant grin and those mesmerising eyes captivate your attention, urging you to keep gazing at him but you have a better idea. Your tender lips meet his, your eyes naturally close, succumbing to the delicate touch. The kiss, a mere caress of skin against skin, sparks a delightful frenzy within, setting your entire being alight. Immobile, you find yourself unable to resist, and there's no desire to. In this moment, you yearn for time to stretch indefinitely – the subtle hint of cinnamon warmth, the fragrance of fresh rain, and the exquisite sensation of his breath mingling with yours – a wish for this enchanting experience to linger.

Lost in each other's lips and locked in a gaze that speaks volumes, the night unfolds with passionate embraces and tangled limbs. You feel Jeno's desire, a palpable energy that fuels the connection. His scent, a mix of warmth and subtle cologne, envelops you, adding another layer to the sensory experience.

The kisses are intense and insatiable, each touch leaving an indelible mark on the night. Jeno's lips move with purpose, exploring and igniting a fervor that courses through both of you. The taste of him is addictive, the play of tongues an intricate dance of desire. As you straddle him, the heat between you grows, the kisses deepening in both intensity and intimacy.

It's not just a physical connection; it's a shared exploration of passion. Jeno's hands on your body convey a hunger matched by your own, creating an electric current that courses through every touch. The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the symphony of kisses, creating a sensory tapestry that encapsulates the entirety of this unforgettable night.

✧ ✧ ✧

As soon as you open the door, you barely have time to recollect your thoughts or greet him as his lips are pressed against yours.

He grabbed you firmly, and backed you up against the wall beside the door as he swiftly closed it. His lips come crashing into yours, tongue adjacent. You barely had time to think or react. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes met yours with a smile.

“Hello to you too.” You whimper, his lips kissing along your jaw, while his hands slid along your body.

He breaks it up as he senses it’s getting too heated, you’re both breathing heavily and flustered. His eyes sparkle as he takes in your appearance, bottom lip tugged under his teeth as he looks you up and down. “You look cute.” He compliments.

You give him a giddy smile, feeling hot as his heated gaze is still taking in all of your body and he’s not hiding it. You’re laughing against his shoulder when he pulls you in for a warm hug, the embrace filling your veins with joy. He kisses your cheek, you tie your hands together and realise you really do look cosy. You were in the fluffiest of socks, your hair was in a messy bun and you were wearing your glasses. Your cheeks heat up when you remember that you were only wearing a t-shirt and underwear, you were sure he could see your nipples peek through your flimsy top and if you rose ever so slightly, your panties would be on show.

“I dress for comfort.” You say with pride.

“And I don’t?”

You shake your head, you were honest and unfiltered. “You really don’t, every day is like a runaway for you but I’m not complaining.” He always looks hot.

“Why are you so dressed up right now?” You question, glancing sideways to look at the clock. “It’s 1am. What are you even doing right now?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“What have you been doing?” He reverses his question back to you.

You clap your hands with excitement and he can’t help but grin at how cute he finds you like this. “I’ve been working on the assignment. Do you want me to show you all I’ve worked on?” You question, hand already in his and you’re ready to drag him to your room before he interjects.

“You should’ve showed me earlier when I was trying to sleep.” He is completely unfazed. Kissing your forehead as his form of apology when you start sulking. You grab his tie, the action making him flustered which you don’t realise.

You fiddle with the material. Eyes dancing over him again.

He exudes attractiveness in smart trousers that complement his silhouette perfectly, paired with a meticulously fitted shirt. Every detail oozes of confidence, from the crisp lines of the trousers to the way the shirt hugs his muscular and broad form with tailored precision. His black leather jacket is resting against his shoulders, adding warmth and comfort to his attire. “You still haven’t told me, why are you so dressed up?”

He doesn’t answer at first so you loop your arms around his neck to ensure his full attention is on you. He seems a bit distracted, you realise he’s looking down as your shirt has risen, he’s looking at your lace underwear peeking through, the all so familiar heat in his eyes that you’re so used to.

“Hey!” He meets your eyes with an apologetic yet guilty glance, he truly couldn’t help himself. He bites his lips and you take the time to truly take him all in.

His hair, pitch black and casually slicked back, has a few stray strands escaping the gel, falling playfully over his forehead. Your hand naturally reaches to caress the hair on his neck, enjoying its length. Fingers moving to dangle against his earrings, adoring how he was always so dressed up, he took so much pride in his appearance and the attentiveness was hot.

His face is like something out of a magazine, intense, heated eyes, soft cheeks, lips still swollen from your kisses, a sharp jawline, and the cutest dimples. He looks stunning, surpassing anyone you've seen before. It's not just his looks; the way he looks at you confirms he's a masterpiece, as if he's walked out of an impressionist painting.

His sides of his lips curve up in the most boyish smile as he checks you checking him out. “You think I’m sexy?” He questions, voice purposefully low and seductive. You’ve learnt that he’s quite shameless and cheeky, he has no limit or shame.

“Answer me.” He says as you’re silent.

“Yeah.” You answer simply, voice coming in a small whisper which makes him coo at how cute you are.

He kisses your lips briefly before finally telling you why he’s come to you in such attire. “You’ll see why I’m so dressed up in about an hour.“ He looks at his watch before finishing. “And now you’re gonna be dressed up.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he moves your arms from around his neck so he can take your hand in his, walking the two of you outside to where his car is parked. He opens the passenger door with one hand, pulling you in front of him with his other, arm coming to rest around your front, his compact yet soft hold keeping you in place against his body heat, flush against flush. You’re so close to him.

You feel an electric shock of butterflies surge through your veins when he leans over to grab the bags on the seat, you lean over in tow. He’s made it difficult for himself to grab the bags by placing you in front of him but you learn that he’s just content to feel your body against his, you never realised how touchy and clingy he truly could be. He rests his head against your shoulder, kissing the skin below your ear as he sighs when you relish in his touch, leaning back into him, closing your eyes in bliss. Truth is, you find yourself craving for his touchy side.

“I don’t want you to get cold.” He explains himself. It’s his excuse, how could you get cold when you’ve been outside for a mere minute? You giggle when he ends the moment to drag you back inside. It was definitely an excuse.

“What the hell is in these bags?” You question, eyes widening as you look at the brands. This was a lot of money.

“Well, I remember you telling me that you felt like you didn’t have enough going out clothes so I got you some that I know you’d look really good in.” He explains like it’s nothing, laughing as he sees your agape mouth and startled eyes. No one has ever done this for you.

“You shouldn’t have!”

After a lot of back and forth, you trying to reject the gifts, him telling you to shush and to just accept this gesture, you finally accept the gifts with hesitation, promising him that you’ll make it up to him.

“When did you even have time to go shopping?” He left your house at around 10pm with a kiss to your forehead, telling you he had some university work to do. He felt guilty as you pleaded him to stay the night but he promised he would another day.

“I just couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about you.” He explains, his honesty being a major turn on for you.

“I told you not to go.” You mumble with a pout.

“Well I’m here now.”

“I went shopping for you. It didn’t take long, I know what you like.” He says and you’re left wondering how?. You don’t even think you know yourself like that, whenever you’re shopping it’s always a lengthy struggle.

He leans down and your eyes nearly tear at how attractive he truly is.

His shirt clings to his muscles, showing off the definition in his lean and toned chest as he leans down, rummaging through the bags with a determined look. Your thirst is quenched by the view of his thighs, snug and fabulous, displaying their shape in a really appealing way.

He finally finds what he’s looking for with a satisfying grin, leaning up and handing over the material gently in your hands. Your skin beams at the luxurious silk, it’s smooth texture inviting a gentle caress in your hand. “You’re gonna wear this one.” He asks, more like tells but you don’t have a problem with it. Seeing the mere satisfaction he gets from telling you to wear a dress that he’s brought out for you and one that he likes is enough to make you feel confident and secure in the choice.

“You know my size?” You question in suprise, eyeing the label as you speak.

He wiggles his eyebrows, a smirk plastered on his face. “Of course I do.” His tone is playful.

You look at him with surprise, this is a side to him that’s so unexpected and different. Jenos, once more reserved and friendly with you, underwent a noticeable transformation when he received the green light of your interest in him. The subtle shift in his demeanour revealed a confidence that he had been hiding, he began to explore a more touchy and sensual side. His interactions became imbued with a palpable energy, as if he had unlocked a deeper connection and sought to express it through physical closeness. The change in his actions spoke volumes about the impact of your reciprocated feelings, turning moments of restraint into an exploration of intimacy.

The unexpected emergence of Jenos' flirty, touchy, and loving side sparked a thrilling response, stirring a sense of arousal. The contrast from his previous reserved nature amplified the allure, creating a magnetic pull of excitement. The novelty of exploring this unanticipated dimension of his personality added a layer of passion, turning the ordinary into an exhilarating adventure. The element of surprise, coupled with the genuine connection, heightened the attraction and fueled a sense of desire for the uncharted territories of this newfound intimacy.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Black.” You and him answer at the same time and his eyes lift up in satisfaction. You’re questioning two things, why would he ask if he already knows? And how does he know so much about you? It makes you question whether you’re an open book or whether he’s just so attentive and observant, you know it’s the latter. Even your best friend doesn’t know this much about you.

“You know, your favourite colour doesn’t match your personality.” He whispers, leaning down, his breath caressing your ear before his whisper does. “It makes me so much more intrigued by you, I know you have a side that you haven’t shown anyone, I can’t wait until you’re ready to show me it.”

You’re stunned by his words but he doesn’t even give you time to react fully or respond. “Try it on.”

“But where are we going?” You question, lips in a pout, cheeks flushed and eyes soft, hoping it would evoke sympathy so he’d tell you as you can’t stand surprises but he doesn’t budge.

“What’s with all the questions?” He says in an amused tone, secretly loving how you were freaking out inside.

“I –“

“Don’t you trust me?” He says, voice gentle and heart sincere.

“Of course I do.” You answer without thinking. He’s earned your trust through time.

“Good girl.” He smiles, thumb caressing your bottom lip, looking down at you with equal amounts of trust and appreciation in his eyes. What you felt for each other was undeniable and unquestionably mutual. “Now go change.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks become flustered, a redness that was starting to become usual around him. He pecks your lips before closing his eyes in front of you, covering his eyes with his palm before turning around. “Is this okay?” He questions and you nod, telling him yes.

Sliding into the dress feels like a graceful embrace, the feeling heightened as you know it’s picked out and chosen by Jeno. The silk glides effortlessly over your skin, casting a sensation. As it inches up, there's a gentle caress against your legs and thighs, and the dress wraps you in a luxurious cocoon, creating a heightened sense of elegance and allure.

You let out a shudder of cold breath when you realise that there’s a zip on the back, one that you probably would have reached with some effort but you had a better idea. “Jeno.” You call out to him, your faint voice filling the hot atmosphere.

“You’re finished?” He says, palm still over his eyes and they wouldn’t move until you told him so.

“Just turn around.”

A rush of breath escapes him as he emerges from a minute of darkness, greeted by the captivating sight of your back. The silhouette reveals a subtle curve, the graceful lines drawing his attention, and a mix of anticipation and wonder floods through him at the unexpected beauty unveiled before his eyes.

“Can you help me with the zip?” You ask, shyly, not knowing what to feel as you were met with his silence.

“Yes.” He answers and for the first time, he sounds speechless in your presence.

His fingers trace a delicate path along the exposed skin as he slowly zips up the back of your dress, eyes following in awe. The metallic whisper of the zipper weaves a subtle melody, punctuating the intimacy of the moment. The fabric yields to your touch, caressing your spine in a tender dance. Each upward motion is a silent promise, creating an electric connection between you, as if sealing the dress is an act of sealing the shared passion. The room is filled with an unspoken language, where every tug of the zipper threads binds you closer, making the ritual of dressing a ritual of desire. His fingertips create an intimate connection, his touch lingering as if etching a map on your spine. You’ve never felt closer.

“Done.” He whispers with a kiss to the back of your neck, leaving his lips there to linger, the feeling of his skin against yours leaving goosebumps.

“Thank you.” You mumble, moving to turn around and face him but before you can do so, his hands around your waist secure you. He moves your hair from one side and tucks it behind your ear, you relish in his touch, breath hitching in your throat when you realise you’re both standing in front of the mirror.

Your own reflection is a welcome surprise. The dress hugs your curves beautifully, accentuating them in a way you could’ve never imagined. The cleavage on show makes you feel shy but the way Jeno’s looking at you takes it all away. You can see how he’s looking at you through the reflection, his eyes carrying such intensity and heat, it speaks of desire.

His voice, a symphony of sensuality and seduction, whispered, "You look so beautiful, baby." His eyes, filled with desire, traced an enchanting path across your form, lingering on the curves that the dress embraced so gracefully. A subtle, knowing smile played upon his lips as his fingertips delicately explored those curves.

“Can you see how beautiful you look?” He pressed a soft kiss against your skin, the intimacy heightened as you pressed back, sighing as you melted fully into him. In that moment, the air was filled with the magnetic allure of shared affection, an intimate atmosphere that bound you together in the dance of whispered words, gentle kisses, and the tender touch that spoke volumes.

He hums when you haven’t answered.

“Yes.” You answer simply, not knowing that you could feel this way.

“Can I put your hair up?” He questions, voice coming out as a quiet lull. You nod, your hair is already in a messy bun but you assume he wanted to do it neatly.

You look in astonishment as he focuses on you with his full attention, smoothing out the strands and putting everything in place before creating what could’ve possibly been the best hairstyle you’ve ever seen on yourself. It was an elegant bun, framing pieces giving a whole new level of sophistication and elegance to your look, his attention to detail surprised you.

You laugh and it unexpectedly brings humour to such a heated and intimate moment. “When did you learn how to do all this?” You question, he could do hair better than you.

“I like when your hair is up.” He whispers into your ear, a playfulness deep in his tone which fucks with your head even more.

“You look so much better than I could’ve imagined and trust me, I’ve thought about you in this dress about a hundred times since buying it.” He admits, his hands glued to your curves, he’s unable to stop caressing them.

The dress was so utterly breathtaking. “Thank you Jeno, really.” You express your gratitude, looking in the mirror and admiring the sight of your own reflection once again.

The dress is crafted from lavish black satin, so enchanting, a lustrous sheen that catches the light with every movement. The fabric gracefully cascades, accentuating the contour and curves of your body while maintaining an air of refinement. Delicate lace embellishments trace along the neckline and hem, The plunging neckline subtly accentuates your cleavage, a sight that was welcoming and new, it adds a touch of allure without being overly revealing. Its captivating elegance lies in the delicate balance between sophistication and subtle seduction, making it the most secure and perfect choice for you.

You turn around in his hold, looking up at him with the most fervent eyes before you close the small distance between you both.

Your lips met his in a passionate embrace, a desperate dance of desire. The heat of the moment intensified as he kissed you back, moulding your mouths together, creating an electric connection. Soft sighs and gentle moans lingered in the air, merging with the intoxicating warmth. It was a steamy, lingering kiss—a fusion of longing and urgency that left you both breathless, lost in the sensual currents of the shared moment.

You back away with a whimper, breathing heavily and feeling unsatisfied. Just as you’re about to kiss him back, his words cut you off. “We have to go, we’re gonna be late.” His voice is forced and pushed out, leaving you with a small pout as you follow his lead, hand ingrained in his as he walks you to the car.

His hand doesn’t let go of yours as he’s driving. You possibly can’t imagine him being any more attractive than he is in this current moment, although you don’t know that you’re in for a surprise.

As he navigates the empty road, his strong, defined arms confidently grip the steering wheel. The hum of the engine harmonises with the low timbre of his voice as he occasionally speaks to you, the small talk filling the atmosphere but never once feeling awkward or forced.

His fingers entwine with yours in a silent promise. The occasional soft kisses on your hand punctuate the drive, moments of affection seamlessly woven into the rhythm of your journey. It’s like he can’t go a moment without him touching or kissing you, little do you know that this is only the start…

Your eyes carry a magnetic allure as he parallel parks so swiftly, something that you’re both envious and turned on by. The concentration that furrows his brow makes you smile at how breathtaking he looks.

“You’re staring.” Eyes not leaving the road as he fills the silence, turning around to face you for a split second with that smirk that pulls at your heart strings.

“You look hot.”

You look around when you’ve realised he’s parked, it’s a house that’s unfamiliar to you. “We’re at your house?” You assume, stepping out the car once he’s opened the door for you, hand finding yours once again.

He nods. “Yeah I left my wallet.”

You stop for a second and look up at the house, eyes narrowing when you realise you can see light through the windows, he explains that he has roommates, people you haven’t met before. Some sound familiar, some don’t. Jaemin, Donghyuck, Renjun.

“Come.” He smiles, arms outstretched when he sees hesitation in your walk and face.

Just as you’re about to walk in, you feel unsettled and confused, you look at each other and you’re surprised to see that he’s just as confused as you are. Was this a frat house? That was the only solid explanation you could think of at the moment because why was it so loud? You hear excruciating loud music from outside, the sensation making you wince and cover your ears, this truly sounded like the worst music you’ve ever heard. You see beer bottles scattered outside and you jump when the front door opens and drunken people come in and out the house, some staring at you, some are too wasted to even notice you but they all acknowledge Jeno, it overwhelms you just how many people recognise and greet him, was he that well known and popular?

“What day is it?”

You raise your eyebrows, confused as to why he doesn’t know. “It’s Sunday.”

He curses immediately, gritting his teeth, his features arranging into pure frustration. “I’m supposed to be hosting this party, I’ve completely forgotten.” He raised his voice over the crowd of people, merely giving him the bare minimum greeting when they shout his name. He's more concerned about maneuvering through the crowd, hand in hand, trying to get to a quiet room which seemed impossible due to the sheer volume of people partying.

You throb with an overwhelming intensity. The room is buzzing with a cacophony of laughter, music, and clinking glasses that engulfs the crowded space. The pulsating bass shakes the floor as bodies move in a chaotic dance, lost in the rhythm. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, mingling with the pungent aroma of various substances. In every corner, couples share passionately making out, their connection heightened by the vibrant atmosphere. Drunken people stumble through the crowd, their laughter blending with the ambient noise. It's a sensory overload of sights and sounds, it takes a toll on you going from such a quiet and intimate place with Jeno to this complete extreme, an intoxicating atmosphere.

As you and Jeno intertwine your fingers and walk through the crowd, a ripple of hushed whispers and lingering gazes follow you. Your connection becomes a focal point, drawing a spectrum of reactions from the surrounding onlookers. Some shoot judgmental glares, their eyes carrying a hint of intimidation and it’s aimed at you, Meanwhile, others wear expressions of genuine confusion and intrigued interest, as if trying to decipher an unexpected puzzle.

The weight of attention becomes suffocating, and your thoughts spiral with self-consciousness. You second guess every move, hyper-aware of the disapproving looks and the prying eyes. The once vibrant atmosphere of the party morphs into a claustrophobic maze, trapping you in a cycle of anxious thoughts. Jeno squeezes your hand reassuringly, but the external pressures persist, triggering a sense of vulnerability.

"Jeno, everyone is staring," you whisper under your breath, unsure if he can even hear. His response is a subtle tightening of his grip on you, silently manoeuvring you in front of him. His hands then find the sides of your face, his captivating eyes drawing you in, offering an inviting refuge that makes you forget the penetrating stares.

Your heart rate steadies as he leans in, connecting his lips to yours in a surprising move. You're taken aback, wondering how he remains unfazed by the judgmental looks. It's as if he's accustomed to the attention, his confidence astonishing you. You yearn to emulate his ability to brush off the scrutiny, but the weight of judgement lingers, a stark contrast to his composed demeanour

Feeling the tension in the air, Jeno senses your unease. Without a word, he slips off his leather jacket, the scent of familiarity enveloping you as it drapes over your shoulders. The jacket, infused with his comforting essence, serves as a shield against the prying eyes and judgement.

As you pull the jacket close, the soft leather and his distinct scent create a cocoon of security. The tactile reminder of his presence eases the nervous knot in your stomach. In that shared moment under the jacket's reassuring weight, the party's chaos fades into the background, replaced by a quiet sanctuary that Jeno, with his thoughtful gesture, has crafted just for you.

“How do you forget that you’re supposed to be hosting a party?” You question, breathing a sigh of relief when he’s finally found a vacant room, closing the door behind you and immediately pressing you against the wall, content on just holding you close to him.

“I told you, I’ve only been thinking about you. You fuck me up so much.” Jeno confesses, his voice laden with desperation and a hint of a low moan. It’s a confession painted with a mix of desire and torment.

“Jeno.” You sigh, voice laden with the same desperation and hint of low moan. Your breath catches at Jeno's intense confession, his words hanging in the air like a charged current. The vulnerability in his voice resonates with you, and a swirl of emotions envelops your senses. A mixture of surprise, desire, and a tinge of uncertainty dances in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

His expression swiftly shifts to one of apology, that beloved grin fading as he peppers your face with spongy and delicate kisses. "I’m so sorry," he whispers against your skin, his words leaving you with a sense of uncertainty and questioning.

“I can’t leave.” His tone is fixed and set and it leaves you silent, a frown on your lips as he explains himself. “I have a responsibility. Even though I completely forgot that I’m throwing this party, I’m still the host. if something happens under my roof, under my party. I just – I can’t have that.”

“What could go wrong?”

He truly can’t believe you’re asking that, he widens his eyes in surprise. “So much. It’s mainly the concern of dodgy people selling drugs and fights. I need to monitor it.”

You rarely get angry and even though you’re not, you feel the first sign of it. “It’s not your responsibility. Why do you always throw parties?”

“To give people a good time and it’s for me as well, I love getting high and partying.”

The judgement in your tone is faint but you can’t help it. “Are you sure it gives you a good time? You know you need to put yourself first. You could just… I don’t know… go to the cinema or go to the pub for a wind down. Does it always have to be clubbing, drinking, alcohol and drugs?”

You can’t even tell if your words had any effect on him as he simply doesn’t react. It’s like he’s ignored everything that you’ve said. He’s quick to change the subject. “Please can you stay? I’ll get an uber for you if you can’t but it will feel really pointless if I can’t be with you after all this.”

You purse your lips and contemplate. “ This isn’t really my scene.”

“I’ll be with you the whole night.”

You’re silent, contemplating, making a list of pros and cons in your head. You know that if it takes you this long to decide something then you should probably just go against it but it’s the way he’s looking at you which is making you consider staying. He’s totally checking you out. Eyes lingering on you with an intensity. His eyes trace the curve of your shoulders, gaze holding a certain hunger, lingering on the subtle contours of your figure, appreciating the sensuality in every curve. It's a magnetic stare, filled not just with desire but also a deep, sultry fascination, as if savouring the allure of someone already known but continually unveiling new layers.

"Do you feel good? Do you feel sexy?" He breathes into your ear, a seductive murmur that elicits a whimper. He's a master at this game, a menace, knowing exactly how to coax a "yes" from your lips.

“I do.”

“It will be a shame if you don’t stay.” He peers deep into your eyes, his gaze pleading, and his lips forming a pout.

“Why?”

“You’re someone who deserves to be shown off,” he confesses, taking your hand above your head and spinning you around. He whistles at the sight of you. “I wanna show everyone what and who they’re missing out on.”

“You look so fucking good.”

At this moment you think about your ex. You wanted to be more outgoing for him, it’s not that you wanted to change who you were, you just wanted to be more adaptable and better at adapting to surroundings and atmospheres you’re unfamiliar with but you failed to do so for him, your own insecurities and lack of self confidence led to the ultimate break up.

You don’t want the same to happen, you want to be a better version of yourself. Maybe you’ll have a good time, who knows?

You nod and he smiles. “Thank you, baby.”

“I’m not gonna drink though. I know that’s gonna be like avoiding the plague in a setting like this but I don’t want to even go near alcohol. I don’t know how your parties work but if someone tries to give me a drink or even sell to me I’m gonna be so uncomfortable.”

He tightens his grip on your hand, if even possible. “I’ll be with you, don’t worry.”

“Maybe I’ll have one drink if my favourite wine is here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You drink?”

"I don’t mind a glass every now and then; I just don’t like intense drinking; it gives me a headache," you say, pouting slightly. He can't help but find you incredibly cute, yet the paradox of your differences intrigues him. You, the last girl he imagined falling for, bring a delicious thrill down his spine. The contrast in your preferences and personalities adds a layer of excitement, making every moment with you an unpredictable journey he's more than willing to explore.

He speaks as he opens the door, leading you out of the confined room. “What’s your favourite drink?”

“I like a glass of Moscato here and there.” You smile, you’d love it right now. Its delicate notes of peach and orange blossom provide a pleasant, easy-going flavor that suits your taste preferences. This choice allows for you to have an occasional, milder indulgence without the heaviness often associated with other wines.

“Just keep by my side, ignore everyone else.” He sweetly smiles.

As you exit the confined room, You feel a newfound assurance coursing through you. With Jeno by her side, a steady and comforting presence, you navigate through the vibrant chaos of the party with a relaxed demeanour. The pulsating music and lively chatter now serve as a backdrop to your shared world. You don’t know how long it will last.

Jeno, true to his promise, remains a constant support, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back, a subtle reassurance that empowers you. As you step back into the lively atmosphere, Your gaze meets the curious and judgmental stares with newfound confidence. The weight of scrutiny dissipates, replaced by a sense of self-assurance, as you and Jeno seamlessly blend into the rhythm of the party, ready to enjoy the night together.

Moments later, Jeno gives you a cup, a knowing and prideful glint in his eyes as he does so, you eye it with confusion and wonder if he understood any of what you said to him but when he tells you to just trust him, you can’t fight with that.

As you take a sip, the liquid cascades down your throat, awakening a familiar sensation that extends beyond the taste buds. Moscato. The rich warmth of the beverage creates a parallel with the comfort you feel in Jeno's presence. It's not just the drink; it's the uncanny similarity between the smooth, familiar taste and the ease you experience with him.

“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter. In this moment, as you feel the warmth of the alcohol and his attentive gesture, your trust in Jeno deepens, a subtle fire of desire kindling within you. No one has ever made her feel so seen and appreciated, and the subtle undercurrent of attraction you feel for him heightens with each sip and lingering gaze.

“Try it.” You offer it to him, wide eyed with excitement as you hand him the same cup you drink from.

He has the smallest sip you’ve ever seen, giving you the fakest smile, you bite your tongue to hold back the laughter. “Mmmmhh.” He says, the enthusiasm not sounding wholehearted.

“You hate it.” You laugh and he nods, pouring one of his favourite beverages into another cup, when he makes you drink a sip of his for good measure, you nearly gag.

“Do we have anything in common?”

He shakes his head but answers sweetly. “It doesn’t matter.”

As time unfolds, Jeno's attentive nature becomes a delightful revelation, driving you to appreciate his considerate gestures. A dedicated table adorned with your favourite wine showcases a level of thoughtfulness that doesn't go unnoticed. While you're not going overboard with the drinks, the comfort of having the choice makes the evening feel personalised.

His attention extends to the music, playing tunes that align with your preferences. The amusing looks of distaste he expresses to certain songs add a playful touch, making the atmosphere all the more enjoyable. To top it off, the order includes the food you love, a shared delight in the delicious sushi, creating a thrilling connection between you both. Jeno's attentiveness transforms the evening into a curated experience, and you find yourself revelling in the charm of these thoughtful nuances.

“Don’t touch that.” He warns the partygoer who has his hand outstretched, ready to eat the sushi.

“It’s ok.” You shake your head, amused at Jeno.

People are saying hi to him every second, he returns the greetings and your eyes widen every time at the mass volume of faces you see, they’re all unfamiliar, it makes you think that you truly do stick with your two friends and that’s it.

It’s attractive how he can have his attention on so much yet at the same time, he monitors the party well. He’s stopped a few fights from happening and has kicked out anyone he doesn’t want here. He’s had his eye on everything and it proves a success, nothing has gone wrong. You feel like his mere presence just prevents disaster.

As he’s focusing on other things, it still feels like his full attention is on you, he’s stayed right by your side like he promised. He’s even introduced you to a few of his friends, you like to think of it more as acquaintances, there’s no way someone can have that many friends.

He whispers sweet words in your ears every now and then, his soft voice comforting you and taking you away from this lively setting.

“Let’s dance, baby.”

He’s a natural and he’s so attractive it almost starts to hurt.

You’re captivated by him, his movements seamlessly syncing with the rhythm. There's an innate allure in the way he moves, a magnetic confidence that radiates from every step and sway. The play of lights accentuates the contours of his figure, highlighting the subtle strength in his dance. As he loses himself in the music, a certain intensity flickers in his eyes, adding an extra layer to his already enticing presence. Watching Jeno move becomes a tantalising experience, awakening a newfound appreciation for the magnetic and undeniably sexy allure he effortlessly emanates

“Just let loose, baby.”

You do just that.

In the intimate embrace of the dance, your bodies press flush against each other, a magnetic connection that defies the rhythm of the music. Jeno's lips find yours in a heated dance of their own, exploring with fervour. His hands trace the contours of your body, igniting sparks of desire with every touch. In this heated moment, the world dissolves, and his focus is solely on you. It's a dance where lips speak volumes, and the only audience that matters is the intoxicating connection shared between you two.

You feel happy. Your heart beats to a melody of sheer bliss, and a contagious smile graces your lips. You realise he doesn’t shy away from PDA, he’s very touchy. You know he’s held back for so long when the two of you were just friends but now that he has the green light that you like him too, it’s full on. You thought he had become 100% with you, little do you know he’s still holding back.

“Where were we gonna go?” You ask him, curious as to what the plan was before you unexpectedly came to his party.

“It was a reservation at that place you told me about.”

Your mouth opens wide, shocked that he managed to reserve it but also sorrowful that you couldn’t make it. You much rather be there with him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book it for another day.” He promises.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that night, you find yourself sitting on his lap, falling deeply into the solace in your room, the atmosphere shifting from the chaotic party to an intimate haven. Legs on either side of him, you comfortably straddle Jeno, who's clearly a bit wasted. His eyelids have doubled in size, and he exudes a more flamboyant and touchy demeanour.

It's a welcomed change from the loud festivities, just the two of you basking in the quietude of the room. Smiles exchanged between you carry the weight of shared moments, and eye smiles speak volumes in the silence. There's a comfortable simplicity in the lack of conversation; you find contentment in merely sitting together.

Jeno, under the influence, becomes even more touchy, his hands finding solace on your thighs. In this tranquil haven, his touches add a layer of warmth, creating a cocoon of intimacy where unspoken connections thrive. The night unfolds with a unique serenity, a delicate dance between smiles, touches, and the quiet companionship that transcends words.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your bottom lip slightly pouted with guilt as Jeno winces. Amidst the tender touches, you've also been tending to his wounds. Despite Jeno's insistence on preventing fights at his parties, he made an exception this time. The guy had crossed a line, taking upskirt photos and making several girls uncomfortable. Jeno, unable to tolerate such behavior, took matters into his own hands, resulting in his current state.

As you carefully dab sanitized cotton pads on his wounds, placing plasters where needed, a quiet understanding passes between you two. Jeno's soft eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the silent acknowledgment of the unwavering bond you share transcends the chaos of the night.

Jeno is a mixture of emotions, pain and pleasure, he’s huffing and puffing. It all comes to a halt when you lean forward with an endearing tenderness, kissing the spots where he is hurt. Your lips, soft and gentle, leave a trail of comfort over each injury, a healing touch that goes beyond the physical.

Jeno, despite the pain, finds himself captivated by your sweetness. Your cute and gentle demeanor sparks a warmth within him, and a subtle smile plays on his lips. The intimacy of the moment transcends the physical, creating a connection that's as soothing as it is alluring. In this exchange, the boundary between care and desire blurs, leaving you immersed in a shared space.

You’ve never seen him as needy as he is right now.

“You don’t regret tonight, do you?” His voice sounds lower and deeper.

You think about how much went off track tonight but the unpredictability was a welcome surprise for you, you felt settled and secure. “I don’t.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He says, voice filled with adoration, words whispered in a low moan.

As the night breathes tranquility into the room, Jeno's hands find their way to the zipper of your dress, mirroring the earlier gesture of care when he zipped you up. Now, in the quiet confines of your room, the air charged with a subtle intimacy, he gently unzips your dress. The delicate touch of his hands grazing your back sends a shiver down your spine, an unspoken promise lingering in the atmosphere.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's touches transition from practical to tender. At some point, his lips find the curve of your back, planting kisses that create a symphony of sensations. Each touch, each kiss, weaves a delicate narrative of a shared connection, an uncharted intimacy unfolding in the hushed moments of the night. The room becomes a haven where gestures speak louder than words, and the dance of hands and kisses paints a portrait of a connection that transcends the boundaries of the night.

“My. Good. Girl.” He says between kisses.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's passionate kisses ignite a fervor between you and him. Your dress remains unzipped, a subtle invitation that adds an electric charge to the moment. As you straddle him, a perceptible difference in his demeanour emerges — a heightened passion, electrified and intensified, likely due to being under the influence. Each touch a silent confession that speaks louder than words in the hushed ambiance of the room. He tastes like blueberries, you were sure it was the artificial flavour of the vape he had been smoking from all night,

You gently break the kiss, both of you left flustered and breathless, the air pulsating with a shared intensity that hangs between you. The unspoken energy lingers, leaving a charged silence that speaks volumes. This is a lot for you. Before you carry on, you want to know where you stand because you really fucking like him and you trust him, you’ve never imagined that you could be capable of having such strong feelings.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

He’s silent for a while and your heart nearly stops. You knew it. You fucking knew it. It was too good to be true.

Just as you were about to get the hell out of here, to recollect whatever you had left in you, he turns to you with the gentlest expression you’ve seen from him yet. It’s there, unmistakably, in the warmth of his eyes—a promise of trust and a sentiment you can fall for.

You’ve never wanted him more than you do in this moment, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he utters it loud and clear, his voice a proclamation of emotions. “Yeah,” he says, smiling at your shy reaction, and in that moment, you can sense the honesty in his words.

He confesses with a joyful certainty, “I’m your boyfriend,” and the air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness. It’s a declaration that dances in your heart, and as the words settle. He’s never felt this feeling before. It’s a cute and wholesome moment, an admission that wraps around you both like a warm, comforting embrace.

Lost in the warmth of the moment, Jeno leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet deep kiss. The embrace is like sinking into a plush cushion, soft and enveloping. Lingering in the sweetness of the kiss, you both get lost in each other, the world outside fading away.

You break away before it gets heated, giggling when he grunts. “Ask me to be your girlfriend then.”

In the soft glow of the moment, you can't help but pout, a playful desire dancing in your eyes. It’s something you want to hear, a declaration that would make this moment even more special.

Seeing your yearning, he smiles, a beautifully genuine expression that holds the promise of something sweet. Unable to resist, he gives in to your request. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, the words carrying the weight of a shared journey yet to unfold.

With a joyous grin, you respond, "Yeah, I will," sealing the moment with the confirmation you longed for. The air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness, and without hesitation, you close the distance between you two, a kiss marking the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your story.

Your lips move with a tender intensity, exploring his as if they hold the secrets of the universe. It's a deep connection. In this moment, the world outside is just a distant echo, and the only reality is the lingering taste of the kiss and the profound sense of being lost in each other's lips.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the midst of your relationship with him, you learned that you were his first girlfriend. You were the first person he had fallen for. Sometimes it felt like you didn’t know what you were doing, relationships were hard work but together, you fumbled through the learning curve, discovering an effortless synergy that made everything click.

As the closeness between you deepened, trust became the foundation of your connection. Previously, the memory of maintaining a distance while brainstorming ideas for the project has transformed into a stark contrast. Now, most study sessions end with you perched on his lap, the desk serving as an impromptu space for shared moments and passionate make-out sessions.

Navigating the challenges of academics together, he's proven to be both needy and comforting. Whether engrossed in gaming or university work, your presence becomes a constant as you find your place on his lap, offering silent support as he tackles tasks. The boundaries between your personal and academic lives blur, but in the chaos, you discover a comfort that transcends the ordinary.

Your relationship remains discreet, known only to those closest to you both. The private nature of your connection shields it from unwanted attention. Despite the potential challenges of not flaunting your relationship on campus, you find solace in his ability to always find a way to be with you. His frequent presence at your house becomes a source of comfort, and the moments he's absent leave an unmistakable void.

Every interaction is amplified in this heightened state of intimacy – eye contact carries newfound depth, touches resonate with electric energy, smiles become contagious, and each make-out session becomes a magnetic force pulling you closer. In this world shared only between you and him, the ordinary transforms into extraordinary moments that you wouldn't trade for anything.

Amidst the intoxicating blend of newfound romance and shared moments, there was one significant aspect that set your relationship apart. Despite being together for three months, the physical intimacy you shared hadn't yet extended to the realm of sex. It wasn't a reluctance on his part, it was you who wasn’t ready. However, there was a mutual understanding that you needed more time before taking that step.

One evening, after another study session that left the desk abandoned for a more comfortable spot on the couch, you initiated a conversation that had been lingering in the background. In the quiet sanctuary of your shared moments, you asked, "Jeno, you're not mad at me that we haven't done it yet, are you?" His response was a gentle shake of the head, accompanied by a reassuring smile. "No, baby, I'm ready when you are." His lips meet yours while you secure your thighs around his sides.

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, and as your eyes met, you exchanged a silent understanding. "I won't leave you waiting long," you promised, a declaration that sent a delicious thrill down his spine. In that moment, your connection deepened, anchored by patience, respect, and your unspoken promise.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s Jeno’s birthday. You’ve been planning this day for a little while now, you woke him up with a kiss at midnight, wishing him a happy birthday which led into a heated makeout session. Then when the sun rose, you made him breakfast, his favourite, pancakes and fruit.

He’s currently at his house to see his friends and family, he’s been gone for a few hours and promised you he’d come back for you soon. you’ve meticulously prepared your home for his return. The bedroom is adorned with candles, rose petals and low music creating an intimate ambiance, setting the stage for the surprise you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

You had all his presents in a designated area but the main present was what you were willing to give him, what you were finally ready for. Sunwoo had suggested that you go lingerie shopping.

Sunwoo was someone in your psychology class, you had become friends with him relatively quickly. He reminded you of Jeno, sweet but with a darker side, that’s probably why you got along with him so well. You found yourself conversing with him the most during your classes, opening up about your life, your relationship. Surprisingly, he knew the most about you and Jeno, as a fellow psychology student he was able to give you good advice and lead you towards acting with more emotional intelligence. He gave you a lot of tips for your first time, that explains why you were here, lingerie shopping.

You tried on piece after piece, your eyes lighting at how good they made you feel and look. You couldn’t believe how they accentuate your curves and cleavage, you looked hot and you were sure Jeno would think so too.

And now, you’re adorned in a captivating piece with a silk robe, your excitement palpable. Jeno has texted you that he’s 5 minutes away, nerves and giddiness take over. You’ve invested time in perfecting your makeup and hair, hoping he notices the effort.

“Hey.” You open the door to him, you’re already blushing. Your arms are around him as soon as he enters your house.

“Hey, you look beautiful.” He whispers into your ear kissing your lips briefly. He lets go to hand you over a bouquet of vibrant flowers. The colours seemed to mirror the warmth in his eyes as he extended the bouquet towards you, a silent gesture that spoke volumes of his affection.

“For you.” His gentle smile warms you, or was it his soft lips that he pressed against your cheek?

You thank him with gratitude. “It’s your birthday though.”

“I’m thankful for you.” You sigh, looking at the man who well and truly owns your heart. “It will look good in that vase by the window in my room. Speaking of my room, come with me.” You hand out stretches for him and he takes it then let’s go, you shoot him a confused glance until he suddenly lifts you up. you squel, legs around his waist as he leads you up the stairs and to your room, a journey that he knows too well.

As you enter your room, he gently places you down, his eyes instantly igniting with desire at the sight of you. A breathtaking smile graces his face, a mix of gratitude and admiration evident in his eyes. "Thank you, my love," he murmurs, hand covering his heart, and his gaze overflowing with warmth as it locks onto yours.

"You like it?" you inquire, and a subtle nod is accompanied by a tender embrace, his arms enveloping you securely. He pulls you close, resting his head against your shoulder, an intimate moment filled with unspoken emotions. "I have more gifts for you later, but for now, there's one special gift I want to share."

His anticipation heightens as you guide him to sit on the bed. You notice his eyes deepening with desire, a subtle gulp betraying his eagerness. As you approach, a confident smile plays on your lips. Standing in front of him, you take the lead, revealing the silk robe's buttons.

His breath quickens, a heavy exhale escaping in a mix of impatience and desire. There's a primal urgency in the way he reacts, a husky moan escaping as he practically tears the buttons away, surprising you with his raw intensity, far from the delicate touch you anticipated.

You look him in the eye as you lead his hands to the buttons on your bathrobe, he becomes speechless as he rips the buttons off.

You embody a confidence that is alluring. The lingerie is elegant and sensual, a beautiful mix of silk and lace. The bra is a deep red with gold trimming, while the corset is made from a thin layer of silk with a layer of lace over the top. The panties are cut low on the hips, with a thin lace trim on the edge. The whole look is very feminine and sensual, making you feel like a goddess.

“Y/N…” He moans loudly, fingertips burning into your sides as his eyes roam over you, taking in every inch of your gorgeous and seductive body. “You planned this for me?” Jeno’s voice is a low growl, fingers fumbling with the buttons on your robe, eager to unwrap the gift you’ve prepared.

Your curves are perfect, like a goddess. Your skin is smooth and silky under the moonlight, the lace around your hips draws his attention first, eyes wavering as he doesn’t know where to look. You embody confidence, a goddess in the sultry lingerie — deep red silk with gold trim, a perfect blend of elegance and sensuality. The corset, a delicate layer of silk overlaid with lace, accentuates your curves. His moans echo your allure, fingers burning into your sides as his hungry gaze roams over your captivating figure

The red silk of your bra isn’t covering anything, it’s so see through and he can see your hard nipples peeking through the gold trimming, his mouth watering as he wants to wrap his tongue around the bud of skin, he wants to be sucking your nipples. Everything about you is perfect, from your smooth skin to your slender frame.

“F-Fuck, baby,” he grunts, strong hands, his arm veins bulging out as he’s tugging at the lingerie, unable to contain his impatience. “Need this off. Need to see you.” He says with an impatient growl, the material ripping off and breaking in one swift movement as he palms his erection, hands moving underneath his boxers as you can hear how wet he is

Pouting, you protest, “Jeno, I got this for you. It’s special.”

“I don’t care, baby. I’ll buy you more. Need to feel you,” he replies. You’re left standing bare, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed beauty. You don’t shy away from his heated gaze, looking you up and down with such fervent and impatience in his expression.

He lets out the loudest moan, eyes lingering on your boobs and your pussy, mouth watering and breath hitched in his throat. “Fuck baby, You’re all mine.” He whispers into your ear, bringing you down onto the bed and then turning the two of you around so you were under him. He palms his clothed erection, leaning down to rub it against your outer core, dry humping but only you were naked. “Do you see how hard you make me? Fuck, you turn me on so much.”

Curiosity takes your hands under his boxers, exploring his length. A soft whimper escapes as you realize the sheer size. Desperate to feel him, your hands glide along, expressing the longing within. “I’ve dreamt of you inside me for so long,” you confess, your voice filled with anticipation.

Locking your gaze in place, he cradles your head, maintaining the connection. His lips explore your breasts with tender kisses, leaving a trail of wetness and red marks. “You’re everything,” you murmur, hands embracing his cock, tracing its length. “I’ve yearned for this.”

You gasp out his name when his lips pepper around your nipple, moving with a delicious ferver, kissing and sucking with equal measure, his tongue darting out to soothe any spot where he's been too rough. He releases your nipple with a loud pop, his loud moan making your pussy acne. His lips move to your interboob, peppering wet kisses along the skin, his trail leaving wetness and red marks.

He locks your head in one place, forcing you to keep your gaze focused on him. “Tell me, how badly do you want me?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, moaning loudly, breathing frantically. You don’t want to mask yourself, you move your finger inside your clit, dragging it in one swift motion to reveal how wet you are. This action undeniably turns him on, what fucks him up even more is when you brazenly place your digit into his mouth, your unspoken words to demonstrate how wet you are. The taste of you sends a refreshing chill through his taste buds, as your icy sweetness gradually melts and coats his tongue.

“You need to use your words.” He breathes out heavily, ironically he’s struggling to balance breathing and speaking.

You cup his cheeks and hold him close, gently kissing him, your eyes soft and inviting, the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and it’s driving him crazy, he wants to ruin you yet you’re still acting so fucking cute.

“I want you so fucking bad. I want you to eat my cunt and then fuck my cunt, Jeno, please, baby.”

You feel his hot breath on your face, dark eyes as he comes to whisper against your ear. “So wet and horny for me already, this is better than what I’ve imagined. Look at what a dirty little whore you are for me, so wet for me, begging for me to fuck your cunt.”

You hear a dark chuckle beside your ear and then you’re flipped around, you’re on top of him, you nearly got whiplash from how quickly he grabbed your hips and switched your positions.

“Come and sit on my face.” He commands, a tone that you don’t want to cross with. You’re so turned on, pussy throbbing for him that you forget to move. “Right now.”

“That’s it, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, gripping the meat on your thighs, hands gripping your bare ass to pull you down until you’ve securely framed his face. He can’t help but spank you before delving into your cunt.

His tongue delves into you without warning, your clit throbbing for him. He eats like a man starved, tongue delving into all the right places, eliciting a moan from you. Your thighs shake around his head as he tongue fucks uou at a more accelerated pace, the wetness of your pussy meeting his tongue. He devours all the juices with a groan.

“So fucking tight for me, pretty girl.” He grunts against you, a smooching sound and he kisses your cunt over and over again. “I love how you taste, such a good fucking girl.” He’s filled with praises today.

He makes room for three digits, an act that perplexes you because your cunt seemed so small and his fingers were so long. Your hands squeeze against his roots as he fingers you, his metal rings creating a coldness as he caresses your folds, an upward motion that makes you scream his name.

He tuts at what a dirty girl you’re being when you keep pushing down, your core pressing down so hardly on his nose but you’re so desperate for more, you’re on the verge of becoming undone on his tongue and fingers. Tears prick your eyes, you’re overstimulated at this point, whining and pleading with your eyes but it’s not enough.

“I’m not gonna let you cum yet.”

You cry out. “Why not?”

He doesn’t answer but you know why, it’s because he’s not done.

So you start begging and pleading, you tell him what he wants to hear, pulling at his strings how you know best. “You’re the owner of me.” You smile, thrusting against him as your grip on his hair tightens. “My cunt is all yours.”

He’s silent for a moment, then you feel the sides of his lips curve upwards against you. “All mine.” He whispers, leaving a spongy and chaste kiss against your clit. “I own you cunt.” His tongue laps at a faster rate, it only takes a few seconds for your high to come.

“Cum in me, baby.” You’re shaking above him and screaming out his name, the hot liquid pours into his mouth at once, he savours every last drop, the taste of you sending a delicious thrill down his spine.

As soon as you’ve wind down from your orgasm, you let out a whimper, looking at him with a frustrated pout, tugging on his hair once again. “Fuck me. Now.” He smiles at you, looking you deep in the eyes to capture the moment. He’s frozen in time, you lie there, a captivating beauty that demands attention. Your beauty unfolds gracefully, a canvas of anticipation. Patience graces your demeanour, a cute smile playing on your lips. Eyes wide with eagerness, each breath carries a weight of intensity. Messy hair adds a touch of chaos to the scene, a testament to passion's fervor. Love bites adorn your neck, eyeliner trailing down your face, mascara smudged and lipstick kissed away. Your swollen lips speak volumes. In this enchanting moment, he utters, "So fucking beautiful," and you become entirely his.

“I could just cum looking at you. Fuck baby don’t make me cum yet, it’s all about you.”

You pout. “It’s your birthday.”

He kisses your cheek softly. “It’s all about you.”

He curses suddenly and it draws your surprise, he looks at you with apology, disappointment thick in his eyes. “I forgot to bring protection, what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s the one important –”

You cut him off, a smile playing on your lips as you guide him to your entrance. “I started the pill a month ago.” You have been planning this day. He moans, a mix of being turned on and having adoration for you filling his desires. “You’re so good to me. You’re all mine.” He breathes heavily, lips closing onto yours as he enters you with a big grunt.

The second the sensation hits you, you cry out his name. “Fuck! You’re so fucking big.” You grip onto his forearms, head hitting the pillow as you look down to see where you’re connected, breath moving with anxiety when you realise his tip has only entered you.

“It won’t fit.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. You navigate a mix of sensations, discomfort and pleasure. Jeno coos in your ear, easing you into him, expertly stretching you out, the discomfort slowly transforms into a growing sensation of pleasure.

“Yes it will.” His words convey the shared ecstasy of the moment, kissing your face softly and whispering praise upon praise as you ease into him, your tense body starting to relax and melt into his. “You’re such a good girl for me, taking me so well.” The connection between you intensifies with each rhythmic motion.

Your boyfriends deep voice echoes, he’s calling you all sorts, his good girl, his baby girl, he’s filled with praises but you're lost in a distant reverie, enveloped in the euphoria of his rhythmic movements, his cock sliding against your walls and reaching a realm so deep. Each thrust brings forth sharp gasps, the intimate connection intensifying as he explores deeper realms of pleasure. The sensation, a culmination of his every movement, is undeniably gratifying, leaving you immersed in the exquisite pleasure of the moment.

“You’re taking me so fucking well.”

Jeno admires the scene, picking up the pace with a faster rhythm, thrusting out just to keep slamming into you. Your toes curl in pleasure, your flushed face and agape mouth reflecting the intensity of the moment. Moans escape your mouth as desire takes over, your eyes glazed with lust, looking down as his hands cup your breasts, each thrust accentuates the pleasure, causing your tits to bounce with abandon.

Intense and breathless, he expresses his overwhelming pleasure with a raw exclamation. responding with short gasps to each thrust. Skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths, his low moans, your calling out of his name and the rhythm of his intense thrusts fill the room, creating a charged atmosphere.

Adjusting your position, he lifts your hips and throws one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock delving into you even deeper. The exquisite sensation elicits a visceral response, your nails finding purchase in the skin of his forearms as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

You’re quite simply cock drunk. “You’re gonna break my bed.” You scream, the squeaking becoming a constant. He hugs your g-spot over and over, hips moving at speed as you scream his name, back arching and toes curling, making it clear that he's the sole master of your ecstasy in that moment.

You find him utterly breathtaking like this, eyes filled with lust, his muscular scent, sweet sticking to his forehead, his radiant face under the moonlight. His beauty remains undeniable. “You’re mine, only mine,” You declare, this time it’s you solidifying the possessive connection in the midst of the intimate encounter.

“That’s right.” He smirks with satisfaction.

The knot tightens in your stomach and your mind succumbs to a blissful haze. You wrap your legs around his waist and he fucks you in this new position, deeper and harder.

“Jeno, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” you cry out. Hands gripping the sides of his face, smiling as you close the distance, symbolising your connection in a shared kiss.

“Me too, baby, me too.” His eyes rolling to the back of his head, hands roaming your body as his grunts and moans elevate,

“Cum in me.” You let out a small whisper, a heavy sigh of desperation as your pussy feels numb, you see stars behind your eyelids as he coos in your ear. Caught in a post-orgasmic daze, you sense Jeno’s movements slowing, his groans low and primal. As he releases inside you, the intimate connection lingers in the hushed aftermath.

Exhausted but determined, you summon every ounce of strength, gripping onto his shoulders and managing to turn him around. Despite the weariness, you take charge, your wearied efforts transforming into a newfound control as you settle on top of him.

Fatigued but fueled by desire, you climb back onto his cock. The fusion of weariness and desire manifests in every deliberate movement, creating an enticing dance as you reclaim the intimate connection. Guided by a languid rhythm, you move up and down, your movements acquiring a delightful sloppiness and an unbridled sensuality.

“Oh?” He questions, playful and surprised tone as he raises an eyebrow. Despite the confusion, a smirk plays on his lips as he gazes up at you. His eyes, filled with affection, he doesn't question your actions, yielding to your lead as you continue to ride him.

“You gonna ride me baby? Gonna take the lead?” He questions as you straddle him with a sensual grace, your movements creating a mesmerizing rhythm. Each rise and fall is a languid dance, your body moving with a delightful combination of passion and fatigue. The connection between you intensifies, the room filled with the subtle sounds of your shared pleasure. As you ride him, his appreciative gaze reflects both desire and affection, forming a silent but profound connection between your entwined bodies.

While you’re on top, he still has to make it clear that he’s taking the lead, a playful smirk on his lips, as one of his hands guides your movements, orchestrating the rise and fall of your body. The other hand, however, held a more commanding role, wrapping around your throat with a controlled intensity, you struggled for breath and it made you dizzy, your rise and fall on his cock becoming sloppier.

“Dirty slut is so eager to ride my cock but now you’re getting tired?” He hisses, tutting as he shakes his head.

You shook your head, breathing in deep as you put all of your strength into moving up and down his cock, the synchronisation of your bodies became a sensual performance, each deliberate motion met with a reaction that heightened the intimacy. His touch was both guiding and possessive, the mix of sensations sending shivers down your spine. The room echoed with the rhythmic sounds of your shared desire, creating a symphony that underscored the unconventional celebration.

Eventually, as the intensity peaked, he encouraged your surrender. You collapsed onto him, limbs entwined, the air heavy with the scent of passion. His firm hold remained, a subtle assertion of dominance even in the aftermath. Exhausted yet content, you found solace in each other's embrace. Drifting into sleep, the room remained cloaked in the warmth of the shared celebration, a birthday memory unlike any other.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno swiftly leans down to share another kiss, lips melding seamlessly. His touch, now gentle, explores your hair, while your hands cradle his face. Traces of each other linger on your bodies, leaving indelible imprints. The nature of your connection might be uncertain, but a serene tranquillity fills the air as he gazes into your eyes, a gentle smile gracing his face, he utters, "You're so beautiful."

You end up falling asleep in Jeno's warm embrace, limbs tangled with limbs, heart beating as one. Amidst his calming snores, you find a happiness that had eluded you for a long time.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your relationship with Jeno, to simply put it, had developed into something beyond your wildest dream. It had evolved into a cascade of passion, sensuality, and profound love. The intimacy between you two deepened, finding solace in each other's embrace more frequently than ever. However, Jeno's imperfection lies in impatience and an insatiable addiction.

He's hooked on you, craving the essence of your being — your body, the echoes of his name in ecstasy, the taste of your release, the feel of your lips, the warmth of your intimate connection. In a fervent repetition, he murmurs "mine, mine, mine" against your skin, solidifying the possessive claim he's staked over you.

His impatience surfaces as an ever-present yearning. When you're not around, he misses you deeply, and the count of unannounced visits to your door is immeasurable. His unconventional greetings involve sealing his lips against yours, a silent declaration of his longing that often echoes through the early morning hours, punctuated by the sound of your shared passion.

You're equally sucked in the allure of addiction, captivated by Jeno, the enigma you've grown to adore. The depth of your connection extends beyond the fiery passions to the tender embrace of his arms wrapping around you, you feel endless warmth and security. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head becomes a lullaby, soothing you into a serene state. In the quiet moments, tangled in each other's limbs, you find solace and an escape from the chaos of the world. Waking up to the tender gaze of his soft eyes and the warmth of his gentle smile has become the cherished highlight of your days.

You’ve become undone by his cock or his tongue in an array of intoxicating positions and locations. In the heat of his car, vacant rooms on campus or when you both escaped to a secluded retreat for three nights, the allure of each moment intensifies. You spent the entirety under sheets, the steamy rhythm of the shower, against walls, upon the floor, and against your desk— every corner of your house has been a canvas for your desires.

His touch, both restrained and blindfolded, adds a layer of mystery and anticipation, creating an irresistible blend of pleasure and surrender. Your lingerie, once delicately clinging to your curves, now bears the marks of his primal hunger, a testament to the wild intensity that defines your connection. The diversity of these encounters paints a vivid picture of your love, leaving an unmistakable imprint on every surface and scrap of fabric shared between you. Each escapade is a symphony of passion, a daring exploration of desire that keeps the flame burning bright in the intimate spaces you've claimed together.

You always find yourself restrained, blindfolded, there hasn’t been a piece of lingerie that hasn’t ripped from your body.

He can be soft too.

The overwhelming sensations he feels for you, the flutters and heavy beating of his heart. The sex between you and Jeno very rarely, but more often than he expected, takes on a soft and sweet rhythm. It’s a realm of vulnerability and tenderness, a side of him unexplored and new, venturing into the realms of vanilla passion.

After dates, he brings you home, his sanctuary, where the air is infused with affection and the scent of shared moments. His lips on every inch of your skin, an exploration of your body. His touches echo with reverence, each inch of your skin becoming a canvas for his affection. The air is filled with soft whispers, intimate and strong eye contact, soft smiles and the gentle hums of each other's names, a private serenade that only the two of you share.

In a surprising deviation from the usual, he doesn’t hastily rip away your lingerie but takes a moment to appreciate the delicate lace and silk adorning you. It becomes an act of love, a departure from the fervour, as he makes love to you whilst you’re adorned in the sensual lace.

Soft smiles exchange like secret promises, and amidst it all, his words echo softly, “my pretty girl,” encapsulating the beauty of the shared connection that transcends the raw passion to unveil a softer, more intimate love.

You've seamlessly integrated into Jeno's life, becoming a constant presence at his house, something that used to scare you but now the boundaries between you and his friends blur. They’re always walking into you and Jeno fucking, you have this acceptance that they have seen you naked.

The unexpected intrusions are sometimes awkward but you’ve learned that your boyfriend secretly loves it, it turns him on. He embraces the fact that they've witnessed you in intimate positions.

There was one memorable evening when Jeno was meant to be preparing dinner for his roommates, Jaemin, Hyuck, and Renjun. However, the evening took an unexpected turn when he found himself utterly distracted by you. What was supposed to be a casual dinner preparation morphed into a passionate encounter, you pushed against the countertop as he fucked into you, the sounds of your pleasure echoing through the walls. Your loud moans carried through the air, and to your surprise, his roommates walked in, initially thinking there was an emergency.

It was a comical yet slightly embarrassing moment, but the incident didn't deter your unabashed enjoyment. You've reached a point where you no longer attempt to stifle your sounds of pleasure, accepting the quirks and unexpected interruptions that come with being an integral part of Jeno's life.

✧ ✧ ✧

While there’s highs in your relationship, there’s undeniable lows. While the passion has increased to another level, so has the arguing.

You remember one time, you were supposed to meet him outside a cinema, he promised to take you out that night, one of your many dates but he never showed up. Instead, he was partying. He spoke to you on the phone, voice filled with apology as he pleaded for you to understand, he quite simply couldn’t get out, it was one of the parties that he attended, it blew out of control.

“I’m sorry baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You heard his apologetic voice, loud music and screams of partygoers in the background.

You’re too frustrated to respond. You hang up the phone with no further words.

You had it planned out in your head, you was gonna give him the intense silent treatment, ignore all his texts and calls, ignore when he rings the bell and most importantly, hold back on kissing or fucking him. Yet here you are at an unreasonable hour, in the front seat of his car, your usual passenger princess role that you had become so accustomed to.

“Y/N.” He gives you a warning, voices a low lull, he wasn’t even looking at you, he stares out the window, gaze distant, refusing to start the car until you gave in to what he wanted.

He knows you’re angry at him. His response to it is what sets you off even more, he’s not said sorry once for standing you up. That’s why you’re acting the way you are, refusing to meet his eyes, dodging his lips when he greeted you, pushing him away when he tried to hug you.

That’s why your hands stay nestled in your lap, you don’t want his contact but eventually you need to give in. Your boyfriend, being the most stubborn person you know, would not start the car until you held his hand, he doesn’t tell you that it’s the reason he’s staying still, jaw locked as he looks out the window but his warning as he called out your name and his outstretched hand is enough to make you sigh in defeat, giving in and taking his hand in yours. He always does this. He drives with one hand if it means that he can hold your hand and touch your thigh with the other.

The second his hand tightened around yours, you feel guilty at how his touch instantly electrified you, sending warm chills down your body. You missed him so much. He finally starts the car, turning to you with that smile you love so much, one that pulls at your heartstring.

As he held your hand with his vacant one, kissing your palm softly.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He’s apologised to you but you take nothing from it.

He sighs, realising that you’re giving him the silent treatment but he still continues his praises and sweet talking to you. “You look so pretty, you don’t think I’ve noticed? I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.”

You gulp, biting your tongue to hold back from breaking down in front of him. It’s true. You’re so dolled up, you spent so long getting ready, smiling once you saw the finished result, the prettiest full face of makeup and one of the dresses Jeno had gifted you, all for the self confidence to come crashing down when he never showed up.

“Aren’t you even gonna ask me why I couldn’t come?” He questions, opening the passenger door for you, hand outstretched to which you ignore.

You cross your arms against your chest. “I don’t care.”

He sighs. “Are you gonna let me stay the night?” He questions, leaning against the car door, eyes searching yours for a hint of forgiveness. The silence between you is heavy, tension palpable in the air.

Finally, you break the silence with a reluctant nod. He smiles, a mixture of relief and gratitude, and you find yourself softening despite your initial resolve.

There was two reasons why you said yes. You did miss him, you’ve become accustomed to falling asleep in his arms and you need him now more than other and the second reason was a bit selfish.

Jeno’s smile fades as he takes in the room with awe, the flickering candles casting shadows that dance across his face. Rose petals are scattered, creating a delicate pathway that seems to lead to a deep well of guilt within him.

“We would be having sex right now, we’d probably be having it all night long but instead you went partying and stood me up.”

His expression shifts, and you sense his internal conflict as he searches for words. “I’m sorry,” he finally utters, the words heavy with sincerity. “Please let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll take you on the best dates for seven nights straight.”

Jeno steps closer, a subtle seduction in his eyes. “Let me try to make it up to you,” he whispers, his voice filled with desperation.

But you stand firm, resisting his advances. “You went partying and stood me up,” you say, frustration coloring your tone. “I’m even wearing something really sexy under this, but it’s your fault that you won’t see it.”

Instinctively, his arms wrap around your waist, he gets whiplash from how fast you jerk away from his touch. His face reflects shock, realizing the consequences of his actions. “You’re not touching me tonight,” you declare, a line drawn in the emotional sand.

Jeno, not used to you rejecting his touch, looks bewildered. “We’re two mature adults,” you continue, your voice firm. “Talk to me about your emotions. I don’t think you’ve ever truly opened up to me.”

"I stayed at the party because of Jaemin, alright? His girlfriend had just dumped him, and he was spiraling out of control. I couldn't leave him alone—I was genuinely worried. You know how he gets, especially with hard drugs in the mix. My instincts were right; without me there, it could've turned into a disaster. He's my best friend, and I have a responsibility to look out for him. I'm truly sorry if my actions hurt you. Next time, I'll handle it better. I want you to know, you're my top priority. You're not my second choice; you're my girlfriend, my girl, and I never want you to feel anything less than my first choice. Always."

You pout, suddenly feeling so guilty. “You should’ve just told me that, next time just tell me the truth, ok? We need communication if this is gonna work.” Your words are punctuated by a tender kiss, a sweet moment as he nods, leaning his head down and resting it against your shoulder.

✧ ✧ ✧

Soft giggles escape your lips, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves as you steal a kiss from him. The world outside becomes a blissful blur, leaving only the two of you in the cocoon of your affection. He looks up at you, moaning softly, his hands gripping the back of your hair to pull you back down to his lips again.

The university campus buzzes with youthful energy, a tapestry of autumn leaves falling gently, creating a mosaic of warm hues. The scent of coffee and distant laughter fills the air, creating an atmosphere of shared dreams and academic pursuits. Amidst this lively backdrop, you and Jeno sit by the beautiful flowers, your favourite summer dress on as he lays his head on your lap, your hands locked as you share a casual lunch on campus with friends.

The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground as you lean down to whisper something in his ear, a moment solely for the two of you. In that moment, surrounded by the chatter of friends, you close your lips in on his, the world quieting to the symphony of your happiness.

Your connection with Jeno forms a bubble that shields you from the prying eyes and whispers around you. One unexpected night, Sunwoo’s concern breaks through as you both share the living room, a movie playing in the background.

"Y/N, how is it going with Jeno?" Sunwoo inquires, her words carrying an undercurrent of worry.

A genuine smile lights up your face as you reply, "I'm really happy." However, the joy fades when you see the expression on Sunwoo’s face. "Is everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath, her concern evident. "I care about you, and I just want you to be happy. I can see you're in your honeymoon phase with him, and it's amazing, but please stay careful. I've heard things, and I need you to be aware."

Your head tilts in confusion, and he continues, "People have been mean and jealous, saying horrible things about both of you. I don't want to go into detail, but there are malicious individuals who would do anything to break you two up. Jealousy is a green-eyed devil, and I want you to be cautious. Every time you're seen together on campus, people are talking, and unfortunately, it's not all good. You're drawing a lot of attention, and I need you to be aware of the rumours circulating."

Just like that, your comfort bubble has been shattered. It wasn't his fault; he was being a good friend, and the truth was bound to come to light, considering the magnetic stares that seemed to follow you everywhere. Peering eyes traced your every move, intensifying every time you held hands with Jeno, shared a kiss, or simply engaged in conversation.

Before, you had a shield, a blissful ignorance that shielded you from the judgmental glances and whispered rumours. Now, you have nothing. The weight of those scrutinizing eyes presses down on you, and a surge of anxiety rises within. It's as if the once familiar campus has transformed into a stage where every step is observed and dissected by an unseen audience.

The secure haven you once had with Jeno is now tainted by the awareness of the scrutiny around you. The casual joy you shared now carries a hint of unease as you navigate through the campus, wondering about the malicious whispers and unfounded rumors that threaten to unravel the serenity of your relationship.

The once intimate haven of your relationship now feels exposed, the whole realm shifting under the weight of everyone's knowledge. It's as if an unwelcome spotlight has been cast upon you, and the familiar campus, once a place of shared joy, now echoes with the cruel whispers and judgmental glances that follow you everywhere.

The anxiety, a silent predator, wraps around your chest, constricting with every scrutinizing look. The rude eyes that pierce through your privacy seem to steal away fragments of your self-worth with each passing glance. You feel stripped bare, a vulnerability that leaves you yearning for the comfort of invisibility.

Jeno, seemingly impervious to the storm of judgment, becomes an inadvertent source of envy. These people, with their whispers and stares, never seem to penetrate his shield. He navigates through the campus with an ease that only amplifies the stark contrast to your inner turmoil.

One day, Jeno surprises you with flowers on campus, a tender gesture that should bring joy. But as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself recoiling, aware of the peering eyes, the whispers, the judgment. His pout mirrors your disconnection as you take the flowers, your voice detached as you mutter a thank you.

He leans forward again, attempting to kiss you, but you dodge it. Surprise flickers in his eyes, replaced by a gentle pout. "Baby?" he questions, reaching out to touch you, but you evade his grasp.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"I don't want to kiss you because everyone keeps looking at you, at us," you confess, the weight of your unease finally surfacing.

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice a mixture of understanding and frustration, as he tries once more to bridge the gap between you. His eyes search yours with a mix of understanding and concern. “We can’t let people do this to us, this is us, me and you and the last thing I’ll let people do is dictate our relationship and make you uncomfortable.”

You try to focus on him, his smile, his soft words, his caring demeanour but all you can feel is the attention from outsiders. Your hands tremble imperceptibly, breathing becomes a conscious effort, each inhale and exhale a struggle against the weight of judgment hanging in the air. Your heart, a delicate percussion, echoes the rhythm of your anxiety, its beats amplified in the silent turmoil.

Tears, uninvited, well up in your eyes, and as you nod, they cascade down your cheeks, a tangible manifestation of the emotional toll. In that moment, vulnerability wraps around you like a heavy cloak. It feels as though you’ve done something wrong, an unspoken guilt that weakens your resolve.

The world outside blurs through the veil of tears, intensifying the sense of fragility that envelopes you. Jeno's tender touch wipes them away, his fingertips brushing softly against your skin. His eyes mirror an understanding so deep that it feels like a comforting embrace.

"Hey," he whispers, turning towards you with the softest voice, a gentleness that envelops you like a warm blanket. Leaning down, he cups your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. Everything else fades into a distant hum as you melt into him.

"Look at me," he urges, his eyes a haven of empathy. Your gaze meets his, and the vulnerability that you've felt transforms into a shared moment of intimacy. Jeno's presence becomes a blockage, shielding you from the judgmental world outside.

"Keep your eyes on me, not them," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded spirit. In that quiet exchange of glances, your heart slowly begins to relax. Jeno's comforting presence, combined with the unspoken promise in his eyes, creates a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with love, and every tear is met with the tenderness of understanding.

Feeling the reassurance of Jeno's presence, a warmth blooms in your chest. As he wipes away the last of your tears, you're overwhelmed by the tenderness in his eyes. Unable to resist the urge, you bridge the small gap between you, pressing a sweet, grateful kiss against his lips.

As the kiss lingers, Jeno pulls back, his eyes searching yours with concern. "Is anyone being mean to you?" His voice takes on a protective edge, a sincerity that resonates through the words. "If they are, I'll deal with them. I won't let anyone hurt you."

“I’ll tell you if anything happens.” You whisper. Jeno’s eyes search yours with a sincerity that demands your attention. “Promise me,” he implores, his voice a gentle plea.

"I promise." you affirm, instinctively outstretching your pinky, a whimsical gesture that seals promises between the two of you.

But Jeno, momentarily disregarding the lighthearted tradition, leans in and seals the promise with a sweet kiss. The warmth of his lips lingers, and a playful smile dances across his face. "You can't break it now." he teases, the gravity of the moment lightening.

You nod, the weight of the promise settling in your heart. "I won't." you assure him, a sense of determination in your eyes.

"I got you, Y/N."

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t keep your end of the promise.

You and Jeno were on one of your many dates, except this one was the most luxurious of all. He had taken you to a a high-end dining establishment where opulence meets culinary excellence. As you step into this gastronomic haven, the ambiance drips with luxury. Chandeliers, resplendent in their crystal glory, cast a warm and flattering glow upon the tastefully adorned surroundings.

There was an atmosphere of sophistication. The air is laced with the subtle scent of exclusive fragrances, adding to the sensory experience. Every detail, from the meticulously arranged silverware to the plush velvet seating, screams extravagance.

The entire upper floor was just for you. Seclusion embraced the space as you and Jeno reveled in each other. Wrapped in a corset top that accentuated your every curve, you felt the warmth of Jeno's gaze fixated on the allure of your silhouette. A daring mini black skirt that barely covered your ass.

A long coat provided a modesty, concealing the sensual ensemble beneath. The promise of privacy on this exclusive floor lingered, and as the door closed behind you, the coat slipped away, unveiling an enticing look reserved solely for Jeno's eyes.

In the dimly lit, darkened expanse of the top floor, a sexy ambiance enveloped you both. The low music set the tone, creating an intimate atmosphere where only the sultry sounds of Jeno's low moans and your soft hums echoed, blending seamlessly with the alluring surroundings. Seated on plush furnishings, the connection ignited as you found solace on his lap. Jeno wasted no time, roughly removing your underwear and your corset, your boobs bouncing as you jumped up and down his cock.

Boyfriend air was real. You had radiated beauty before he picked you up – your makeup meticulously enhancing your features, and your hair styled with grace. Yet, now you sit here, a mess. His kisses had erased every last trace of makeup.

"Baby, stay here," he whispers, his warm breath lingering against your lips. "I'm just getting the bill." Leaning down, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of a swift return.

"Do you wanna come over to mine?" he suggests with a playful grin. You nod, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. "I'll drive us home," he declares, a warmth in his eyes. In that moment, it's clear – you just want to be with him, wherever the night may lead.

In the softly lit ambiance of the upscale restaurant, you patiently wait for him, preparing to put on your bra and top. Unexpectedly, an unwelcome intrusion disrupts the tranquility. Your mouth hangs open in shock, and before you can react, your chest is briefly exposed as a female waitress enters the room.

Quickly, you grab your coat to cover yourself, staring at her with a mix of surprise and discomfort. "What the hell?" escapes your lips, a blend of embarrassment and frustration.

You recall her as your waitress for the night, part of the restaurant's unique service where each floor and couple has a dedicated server. The bell, your discreet summoner, has been unrung, making her presence inappropriate.

She looks at you with a hint of disdain, and the encounter triggers a familiar sense of vulnerability. The ambiance of the restaurant feels stark, and the unexpected exposure intensifies your embarrassment. The thin fabric of the coat becomes a modest shield, but the discomfort lingers.

As you lock eyes with the waitress, who seems to take pleasure in your discomfort, memories of past judgmental stares resurface, adding to your unease. The sanctuary you usually find with Jeno is momentarily disrupted, replaced by an uncomfortable sense of exposure. The discomfort you've navigated with Jeno's support resurfaces, threatening to overwhelm you.

Recognizing her now, you realize she's a fellow student at your college. The slight awkwardness you noticed during her service takes on a new significance. You remember the way her eyes seemed to light up, especially when serving Jeno, which triggered a fleeting sense of jealousy. But it's a feeling you've grown used to – after all, Jeno is a heartthrob and everyone wants him.

While a twinge of jealousy briefly pricked at you, Jeno remained blissfully unaware of the waitress's admiration. It simply didn't register on his radar. He's become accustomed to such attention, unfazed by occasional glances and admirations. To him, these moments are like passing breezes – gentle and unnoticed.

Seated arrogantly on the table in front of you, she exuded an air of contempt, her eyes reflecting the rudeness that her entire demeanour conveyed. From the start of the night, her motives were glaringly apparent. You initially dismissed it as mere overthinking, the disinterest as she served you, the muttered words and the frigid expression with frozen eyes heightened your sense of unease. However her attention was completely different towards Jeno, it went from blatant flirtation to being overly helpful and kind.

"You know, seeing you with Jeno is disappointing. He deserves so much better. I don’t think you realize what a downgrade you are for him," she sneered, her words laden with contempt.

With a sinister grin, she continued, "Every other girl he’s been with beats you, by miles. In looks, in sex…"

As she casually mentioned sharing an intimate moment with Jeno, she revealed a video that sent tears streaming down your face. It’s taken from earlier, a moment you shared in solace but your feel vulnerable and exposed knowing she had been watching the whole time. The hurt intensified as she criticized your appearance and demeaned your connection with Jeno.

"Why the fuck have you filmed this?" you demanded, the raw emotion evident in your voice.

"Do you see how ugly you look? Watching this nearly made me sick. You’re not pleasing Jeno the way he deserves. You’re too soft and vanilla. Having slept with Jeno myself, he’s probably the best sex I’ve ever had. It's a shame he can't be rough with you because you're too much of a pussy," she taunted.

She questioned the authenticity of Jeno's feelings, suggesting he was using you as a distraction. Her venomous words stung as she predicted an inevitable heartbreak for you.

"I want him. And so does every other girl. It’s not fair that he’s with you. One day he’s gonna go back to his fuckboy ways. Just watch," she warned, her possessiveness on full display.

"Now you will stay away from him. I’m warning you now. Do not cross me. It will not be good if I see you together next week," she threatened, leaving a chilling anticipation hanging in the air.

As she cruelly exposed the intimate details of your relationship, tears streamed down your face, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The room seemed to close in, an overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you. Anxiety took hold, its silent fingers wrapping around your heart, squeezing with an invisible force.

Your breaths became shallow and rapid, as if the air itself was too heavy to inhale. A lump formed in your throat, choking back words that yearned to be spoken. The world around you blurred, a disorienting haze settling over your vision. Your hands trembled involuntarily, the once steady limbs now betraying your emotional turmoil.

In the depths of your anxiety, your mind became a battleground of negative thoughts. Each word uttered by her echoed, fueling self-doubt and insecurity. It felt as though the walls were closing in, the room shrinking to an oppressive confinement.

Moments later, Jeno returns, sensing the shift in your mood. The weight of sadness on your face doesn't escape his notice, concern knitting his features. He kneels in front of you, gently taking your hand in his.

"Baby?" he whispers, his eyes reflecting genuine worry. "Are you okay?"

You're taken aback by his perceptiveness, having mastered the art of hiding your true feelings. Despite your practiced smile, he sees through the facade.

"I'm fine, baby," you assure, the words a feeble attempt to shield him from your inner turmoil. A smile, though not reaching your eyes, plays on your lips. "Thank you for today." The gratitude is sincere, your heart warmed by his caring presence.

✧ ✧ ✧

As your fingers intertwine in the quiet of the car, he glances at you with a comforting smile. "Looks like there's a bit of traffic, we’ll be home in around a half hour." he mentions, the hum of the engine accompanying his words.

However, you're not fully tuned into the conversation. Instead, your attention is drawn to the night sky, captivated by the celestial wonders above. Animatedly, you share stories of constellations and the cosmic ballet, your voice weaving tales of the stars as the car meanders through the urban night.

A warm smile graces his lips, capturing the sparkle in your eyes. Spontaneously, he parks the car near a vacant mountaintop, city lights far below. The celestial canvas unfolds as you continue your stargazing dialogue.

Nestled in the open boot of Jeno's car, you find comfort against his body, head resting on his chest. Gazing at the stars, he whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, the night sky a celestial canvas where your anxiety gently fades, even if just momentarily.

Jeno kisses your forehead with a whispered question. You’re now standing side by side as you’re looking up at the stars and he’s looking at you. “Are you feeling better?”

As a contented sigh escapes your lips, you revel in the solace of being with him, the night sky weaving a temporary spell on your anxiety but you know this won’t last, you know the second you close your eyes tonight the real battle will start.

Choosing to shield him from worry, you offer a gentle smile and a subtle nod when he asks. "Yeah, I'm feeling better now.” you assure him, your words carrying a touch of gratitude. Your heart swells with appreciation for the unexpected haven he created atop the mountain.

Leaning into the warmth of his chest, you express your thanks for the day, the words a tender acknowledgment of his efforts. Deep down, you cherish the genuine concern in his eyes, but for now, the desire to spare him unnecessary worry guides your actions.

“I don’t buy it.” he looks at you sternly, lips dodging yours, a serious expression in his face.

"Jeno, please," you implore, the words hanging in the air. However, as he meets your gaze, captivated by the sheer beauty reflected in your eyes, he momentarily forgets what he was about to say. The softness in your expression, the way you look at him, sweeps away his train of thought. There's a pause, a moment where words fade into the background, as he's lost in the warmth of your gaze and the radiance that surrounds you. Eventually, a gentle smile curves on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the distraction your beauty has become.

His words caress the air, "Pretty girl." His voice is a low whisper, his fingers tenderly tracing the contours of your lips with the most captivating of smiles. It sends a poignant ache through your heart, the way he looks at you making you feel intense guilt. You fight back the tears that threaten to surface.

He’s still looking at you with concern, eyes searching yours for an answer. You don’t know how else to react. Desiring distraction, you impulsively lean in, seeking solace in the press of your lips against his, momentarily abandoning the conversation you had intended. Your fingers instinctively coil around the fabric of his shirt, his arms winding around your waist, drawing you into an intimate embrace. The dance of his mouth against yours unfolds, a gentle nip on your lower lip elicits a hushed gasp. Seizing the moment, he delves deeper, intertwining his tongue with yours in a tender kiss.

A smile graces his lips in the midst of your shared closeness and it seems like the imposing conversation has flown from his mind too. Your fingers weave through the strands of his hair, cherishing the softness as the warmth of his body provides a transient sanctuary from lingering concerns.

Jeno gracefully lowers himself, knees bending as his hands anchor at the back of your thighs. A swift jump and your legs encircle his waist, his firm grip ensuring your support. Lips reconnect, and he navigates effortlessly to his car. He’s glad that you guys have no company.

Amidst the soft glow of candlelight, an unexpected intimacy unfolds. You discover a new vantage point, perched on a shared blanket under the moonlit sky. You’re met with the familiarity of his car, the boot. You’re surprised when the position remains, you on top. You move even closer in his hold, a comfortable perch on his lap as your knees close in on either side of his hips. “Take this shit off.” He moans against your lips, smiling against your lips as you get in an awkward position so he can remove your skirt swiftly. Simultaneously, you unzip his trousers, freeing his cock from his pants, while he removes your lace panties.

His hands trace the curves of your thighs, fingers gripping the exposed skin, dangerously dancing near the skin of your pussy while your mouth melds with his.

“Already wet for me? Good girl.” He coos in your ear, one finger dipping in and out your pussy, covered in slick.

“Need you.” You cry out, he coos at how patience you’ve been for him as he grips your thighs, eyes looking softly into yours as he lowers you down onto his cock, the two of you moaning at the sensation of you adjusting immediately, he fits snugly into you, your walls instinctively accustomed to the feeling.

In the midst of tears, you whisper, "Jeno, you make me feel so much." Your emotions overwhelm you as you begin kissing every inch of his face, attempting to convey the depth of your sentiments.

You start with his forehead, the site of countless moments etched with shared laughter and joy. A gentle kiss lands there, a silent acknowledgment of the happiness he's brought into your life. Moving to his eyebrows, you trace the familiar arcs that crinkle with every teasing smile. Your lips linger, savoring the warmth of memories held in those expressive lines.

Kissing the bridge of his nose, you recall the adorable way it scrunches when he's deep in thought or playfully annoyed. Each touch becomes a silent tribute to the idiosyncrasies that make Jeno uniquely himself. Continuing to his closed eyelids, you remember the countless times you’ve dreamed of him and the security you find in the serenity of those closed eyes.

As you plant a tender kiss on his cheeks, the echoes of laughter and stolen moments resonate in your mind. You're acutely aware of the bittersweet weight behind the gesture, acknowledging the beauty of what was and the pain of what might never be again.

Finally, your lips find their way to his trembling mouth, sealing an unspoken promise of love and gratitude. In this melancholic dance of affection, you navigate the terrain of his features, each kiss a melancholy ode to the intricate mosaic of your shared experiences.

Jeno looks at you with a mixture of tenderness and concern, his eyes mirroring the emotions reflected in your tear-stained gaze. As your whispered confession hangs in the air, his fingers gently lift to graze your cheek softly.

The room feels heavy with unspoken sentiments, and Jeno's expression softens even more as he breaks away from your lips. His hand cradles your face, thumb gently brushing away the lingering traces of sadness. There's a depth of emotion in his eyes as he looks into yours.

He doesn't utter a word, but his actions speak volumes. Leaning in, Jeno captures your lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. It's a gentle promise, a silent affirmation that he's there with you, navigating the intensity of emotions together. His arms wrap around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and solace.

Jeno's touch is a blend of warmth and desire as he navigates your trembling body, his hands exploring the curves that respond to his every movement. Your sighs intertwine with his name, creating a symphony of longing and pleasure, while your shaky hands find solace on his sculpted shoulders. Biting your lip, you surrender to the heightened sensations as his grip on your thigh tightens, helping as you rise and fall on his cock.

His breath, laden with desire, mingles with yours, the air heavy with the intensity of your connection, your ass meeting your thighs. "Good girl," he murmurs, smiling behind the pleasure as you rise and fall on his cock with a determination in his eye. His praise ignites a new wave of sensations. Your eyes, lost in ecstasy, roll back, and the room echoes with the symphony of whimpers and cries that escape your lips when he consistently hits the sweet spot

“I need your cum in me.” you whine, the words catching in your throat as your body responds to the intensifying pleasure, a gentle band tightening around the depths of your core.

“I’m gonna fill you up with me, baby.” he moans, his voice a low, longing murmur. Jeno lowers his thumb to your clit, gliding down to trace delicate circles. The sudden touch makes you shiver, tension building within you as the sensations cascade through your body.

In the throes of ecstasy, you arch against him, a cascade of whimpers and moans escaping your lips. Jeno is attentive to your every reaction, synchronized in the dance of shared desire. Your cries become a symphony that resonates with him, each pulse of pleasure bringing you closer to a shared climax.

“My love.” you cry out, the endearment slipping out involuntarily, and it resonates deeply with Jeno. The intimate connection amplifies, pushing him over the edge. He responds with a fervent moan, releasing his pent-up passion inside you, a high-pitched resonance you’ve never heard before.

As the climax ebbs, you collapse onto him, exhaustion mingling with the lingering pleasure. Tears stream down your face, a release of emotions intertwined with the raw intensity of the moment. Your hands clench onto his back, holding on as if he could slip away.

In the aftermath, Jeno cradles you with a tender smile, maintaining the intimate connection. His gaze holds a vulnerability that transcends physicality, mirroring the delicate strokes of a poet. His fingers brush away your tears, tracing the paths of emotions etched on your flushed face.

With unspoken understanding, the room is filled with shared sorrow. Jeno’s tears join yours, creating a poignant language that weaves your stories together. In this silent dialogue of vulnerability, your connection strengthens.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno's eyes reveal a different vulnerability. With a gentleness that mirrors the delicate touch of a poet, he brushes away the tears that linger on your flushed cheeks. His fingers trace the paths of emotions etched on your face. As his thumb captures a glistening tear, you feel your sorrow enveloping the room.

Gazing into each other's eyes, you find solace in the authenticity of the moment. Jeno's gaze mirrors and you stay in silence, he’s still inside of you.

Breaking the silence, Jeno's voice, soft yet filled with genuine concern, pierces through the intimate atmosphere. His eyes still search yours as he whispers, "Tell me what you feel." The unspoken question lingers, he’s referencing earlier, inviting you to unravel the layers of emotions that intertwine your souls, creating a canvas painted with shared vulnerability and desire.

Jeno's touch is tender as he brushes away your tears, his fingers delicately tracing the paths of emotions etched on your face. The subtle quiver in his breath reveals the depth of his empathy, and you notice a glistening tear escaping from the corner of his eye, mirroring the vulnerability that binds you both.

His thumb moves gently across your cheek, capturing the teardrop, while his own tears fall freely. There's a shared sorrow in this moment, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. Jeno's emotions, laid bare, create a poignant connection between you, deepening the bonds that bind your hearts.

The weight of unspoken pain becomes palpable, threatening to engulf you in a sea of vulnerability. In response, you shake your head, a feeble attempt to ward off the imminent exposure of your innermost self. The fear of appearing fragile and broken takes hold—it's a dangerous territory you've meticulously avoided, a realm where the façade you've worn like armor is at risk of crumbling.

As he wipes away your tears, his gaze meets yours, expressing a silent solidarity. In that intimate exchange, you find solace in the raw authenticity of shared emotions. Jeno's teary eyes reflect not only your pain but also the profound connection that weaves your stories together. It's a moment suspended in time, where tears become the language of emotions too profound for words.

"I know what you feel; I feel it too," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to the ache in your heart. The connection deepens as you both acknowledge the profound emotions that bind you, creating a shared sanctuary where vulnerability is met with empathy. It's a testament to the strength of your relationship, forged in the crucible of genuine emotions that only serve to strengthen the bond you share.

A quiet gasp escapes as emotions swirl within, you take a deep breath, the weight of your emotions nearly overwhelming. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you muster the courage to speak the words that have been echoing in your heart.

"I... I'm scared, Jeno," you stammer, anxiety coursing through your veins like an electric current. Your heart races, and a subtle tremor invades your voice as you grapple with the overwhelming fear of confessing your emotions. The vulnerability in your words echoes the symptoms of anxiety—palpitations, a tightening chest, the fear of judgment that clings to every syllable.

Despite the paralyzing fear, you know you must tell him. You summon the courage to speak. "I love you so much that it hurts, Jeno," you admit, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. The admission carries the weight of both joy and fear, but amidst the internal turmoil, you yearn for a connection that transcends words, searching desperately for affirmation in his eyes. His boyish smile transforms into a warm and tender expression, tears streaming down. He's still inside of you, his presence lingering, and as he releases again, his hands gently cup your face, providing a moment of solace in the midst of the emotional storm.

"I love you too," Jeno whispers, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that mirrors your own. You hold each other tightly, your bare bodies pressed together, a mosaic of emotions etched across the canvas of your entwined forms. His toned chest provides a firm foundation, your breasts gently molded against the warmth of his skin. The lingering connection down there serves as a silent testament to the profound intimacy you've embraced.

Heavy breathing and panting compose a symphony, resonating with the echoes of shared desires. His arms, strong and secure, wrap around your back, creating a cocoon of intimacy. Fingers trace soothing patterns along the contours of your spine, and as you hold onto his shoulders, your tears find refuge in the curve of his neck.

In the midst of this physical closeness, you look into each other's eyes. His smile, though filled with tears, radiates warmth and acceptance, a poignant expression of love. Yet, in your gaze, there is no hint of happiness—only a profound sadness reflected in your tear-streaked face as you sob, the weight of vulnerability heavy on your shoulders.

The head fogs with unspoken words, each heartbeat echoing the ache of a love destined to unravel. Tears cascade down your cheeks, silent witnesses to the profound pain etched in your soul. Amidst the shared tears, he cries too, not realizing the true depth of your sorrow. He’s weeping because he senses your love, yet the cruel irony is that you, burdened by the impending departure, are the one who must leave.

As your tears mingle in the dance of heartbreak, the weight of impending separation hangs heavy. He can’t hear the words echoing in your head, nor understand the agony etched onto your face. This poignant moment, laden with unspoken goodbyes, is a symphony of sorrow.

✧ ✧ ✧

It starts off with feeble excuses, claiming sickness or the need to study. Each call and text from him goes unanswered, as you detach yourself without warning or explanation. On campus, you avoid his gaze, finding excuses to leave, trapping yourself in a web of avoidance.

Friends, unaware of the storm within, continue their routines, oblivious to your isolation. You become a ghost, fading from gatherings, leaving them in the dark about the torment devouring your soul.

His house, once a refuge, stands untouched by your presence. Dates become relics of the past, and everything shared dissolves into a haunting silence. You ghost him, ignore him, disappearing without a trace. The places where you once showed up now remain empty, a stark reminder of the void you've become.

In this self-imposed exile, you grapple with the agony of your emotions, feeling the weight of isolation press down on you. The world around you moves forward, while you remain suspended in emotional paralysis, unable to break free from the chains that bind you.

The sun-drenched campus feels both familiar and distant as you navigate its pathways, ensnared in your isolation. Suddenly, Sunwoo appears, concern etched across his face. Startled, you jump at his presence, forgetting how to act around people. Anxiety, that insidious disease, tightens its grip.

"Y/N," Sunwoo calls out, his voice breaking through the suffocating silence.

"Sunwoo," you cry out, seeking instant comfort from him. You allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, tears escaping as thoughts of Jeno intensify the ache in your chest. You miss him—miss his touch, miss the simplicity of your connection.

"Tell me everything," Sunwoo urges, his voice a gentle plea.

And you do. You spill the fragments of your shattered heart, revealing how you and Jeno were once strong until the world intruded, shattering the delicate bubble of your love. The honeymoon phase faded, replaced by imperfections and external pressures. You couldn't bear the stares, the rudeness, the guilt for simply being in love. It felt like you were an enemy, an intruder in a world that refused to accept your connection.

You recount Seoyeon's cruel warning, the video, her words a venomous echo in your mind. The weight of her threat compounds your already fragile emotional state. Sunwoo listens, his comforting presence a temporary respite from the storm within. Before he hugs you, you just stare at him and sob. His gaze doesn't hold judgment, and the rarity of that these days breaks you. It's a poignant moment where you realize he doesn't see you as someone who's done something wrong.

As you cry in his arms, the release of emotions is accompanied by a profound sense of trust. You never did anything wrong, and Sunwoo, understanding that, becomes a pillar of support. The rarity of finding someone who doesn't look at you with condemnation in these trying times makes you melt into him. You know you can trust him—always have and always will.

Sunwoo rocks you back and forth in his arms, offering a comforting refuge from the storm within. As tears stream down your face, he speaks softly, his words carrying a pain that resonates deeply.

"You love him?" he questions, the ache in his voice weaving a tale of pain that doesn't entirely make sense to you.

You nod, biting your tongue to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. "I'm scared," you admit, the vulnerability laid bare.

He shakes his head gently, a determined glint in his eyes. "You love him. Fuck everyone else." The weight of his words settles in, a declaration that in this tumultuous journey, your love is what matters. In his embrace, the fear eases, replaced by a flicker of courage to face the uncertain path ahead.

✧ ✧ ✧

As you sit peacefully on the campus, absorbed in your thoughts, Chaeyoung, Nagyung, and Seoyeon approach with an air of hostility. Their presence feels like a dark cloud disrupting the tranquility around you. Nagyung shoots you a venomous glare, and the atmosphere becomes tense. Suddenly, you're transported back to a painful memory – your date with Jeno, tainted by Nagyung's threats and bullying.

Nagyung's voice pierces through the present moment, her words echoing the past torment. "Jeno is still posting photos of you two on his Instagram. Did you not take my warning seriously?" The mention of Jeno's name sends shivers down your spine, reopening old wounds. Despite the tears welling in your eyes, you choose to ignore them, desperate to shield yourself from the emotional assault. The intrusive trio persists, invading your personal space and freedom of mind.

As you endure their taunts, tears well in your eyes, a silent defense against the emotional onslaught. Avoiding their gaze, you refuse to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Despite your efforts to stay composed, Nagyung persists with another warning, this time invoking a sense of dread. She mentions the video with a snarl on her face. The mere thought intensifies your desperation to escape this distressing encounter, as their toxic words become increasingly unbearable. The urgency to distance yourself grows, making finding an exit your sole focus.

Their taunting has drawn a growing crowd, creating an overwhelming sensory experience. The stares and harsh words blend into a chaotic scene. Desperate to escape, you find your voice locked within, and your body feels paralyzed, as if controlled by an unseen force. In this moment, anger surges. You want to fight back, to regain control over your voice and movements, but an invisible restraint keeps you confined,

Sunwoo arrives, exuding a striking handsomeness that momentarily captures attention. His face bears a concerned expression as he looks at you, offering reassurance with a simple, "It's okay, I'm here." While he defends you against the trio, the ringing in your head and heightened anxiety make it difficult to decipher his words.

Certain phrases cut through the mental fog: "What's wrong with you?" and "You're all pathetic." He delivers a menacing warning, promising consequences, each word dripping with venom that silences the three girls who look stunned. Sunwoo, typically composed, adopts an unfamiliar rudeness, threatening the trio with a stern expression you've never witnessed before. The stark contrast leaves you both surprised and comforted, a mixture of emotions swirling as Sunwoo wipes away your tears.

Sunwoo's defense sparks a glimmer of hope within you, and your eyes light up with gratitude. As he smiles in reassurance, you make an effort to reciprocate, forcing a smile back, though feelings of unworthiness linger beneath the surface.

Witnessing him defend you creates a moment of vulnerability, you find yourself getting lost in his presence. Sunwoo gently wipes away your tears. Soft whispers escape his lips, words so sweet they make you giggle. Were you getting lost in his eyes?

His question breaks your trance "Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know, Sunwoo," you reply, your mind swirling with the reminder that you've ignored all of his texts.

"He should be here," Sunwoo asserts, concern etched on his face.

"It's not his fault," you instinctively defend him, your words flying past Sunwoo as he changes the subject.

"Do you want to come with me?" His hand gently rests on your back, a comforting touch that lights up a spark within you.

"Where?" you inquire, curiosity blending with uncertainty.

"Somewhere away from here," Sunwoo suggests, the idea hanging in the air.

"I don't—" you begin, caught in contemplation. The uncertainty about the proposal lingers, leaving you unsure if it's a good idea.

Finally, Jeno enters the scene, and an immediate tension envelopes the surroundings. Immature behaviour unfolds between him and Sunwoo, their gazes locking with an intensity laced with rudeness. The air thickens with arguments, and the perpetual tension that seems to shadow you becomes overwhelmingly stifling.

As you prepare to confront both of them, Jeno beats you to it. His eyes communicate a stern warning to Sunwoo, their locked gaze speaking volumes. In Jeno's intense stare, you sense an undercurrent of jealousy. He doesn't need words; the warning is implicit, especially as his eyes fixate on where Sunwoo's hand lingers on your back.

Sunwoo doesn't back away, he’s aching every second that you’re in this broken state. His frustration boils over. "Where the hell have you been?" His raised voice is directed at Jeno, who responds defiantly, "Shut up, Sunwoo, I swear to—"

"You're twiddling your thumbs while Seoyeon —" Sunwoo's words are cut off as he glances at you, his eyes softening instantly as he reads the silent plea in yours. Shaking your head, you silently beg him not to reveal the truth to Jeno.

"Sunwoo, stop it. Don't talk to Jeno like that," you interject, trying to diffuse the escalating tension. Sunwoo sighs, a heavy sadness lingering in his heart, all he wants to do is protect you but he also wants to respect your wishes.

Finally turning to Jeno, you realise you can't avoid him forever. You're a bit of a mess, dishevelled hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Jeno notices immediately and his eyes soften, his heart strings tugging and without a word, he pulls you into a comforting hug. You melt into his chest, shaking hands gripping onto his biceps. You hum in familiarity as he wraps his arms around you tighter. “I’m right here, baby.”

His fingers gently smooth out your hair, and he delicately kisses your face, his fingers following to wipe away your tears. You look up at him as if he holds your world. He has an undeniable hold on your heart. "Come with me," he suggests, and though you're initially reluctant, he pleads, "Please, Y/N."

"Don't you trust me?" Jeno asks, his eyes holding a sincerity that softens your defences. "I do," you respond, shedding silent tears as you hold his hand, letting him lead you away from the prying eyes.

Before parting, he kisses you softly, and in that vulnerable moment, everyone's eyes seem to be on you.

You catch sight of Seoyeon and Sunwoo, your breathing calming as you catch him defending your name. You watch as he snatches her phone from her with a relentless and anger that’s unpalatable, he must look crazy to others but you know what he’s doing. You feel a warmth in your senses, the cloud in your mind finally starting to dissolve when you see him navigate her phone. He’s deleted the video.

Jeno wraps his arm around you, a protective shield from the cruel stares and whispers. As he kisses your cheek softly, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the familiar setting of Jeno's room, clad in his clothes post a shared shower, emotions swirl between you two. The act of cleaning each other felt tender, the guilt growing as his lips pressed against every inch of your body, each kiss carrying an unspoken declaration of the depth of his love for you. Jeno leans down, the rawness in his voice echoes, "I've missed you so much." The question hangs, "Have you missed me?"

Instead of verbalising, you lean forward, putting your mind off the pain by doing what you know best. Your lips press against his, a rough and passionate collision. There's an urgency as your lips connect, a mingling of longing and desire. The kiss deepens, and you bite down roughly on his bottom lip. As the kiss progresses, heavy breaths mix. The roughness of the kiss mirrors the intensity of your feelings, making every moment linger in the air.

Pulling away, Jeno gazes into your eyes, understanding etched in his expression. "You can always talk to me. I'm always waiting for you," he reassures.

Jeno silently leads you somewhere, and as you realize it's the room where the project is, you express, "Jen, I don't feel like working on the project now."

He gently hushes you and urges, "Just follow me."

In a secluded corner of the project space, Jeno guides you into an unexpected, confined pod. The air is charged with tension as he gently guides you to sit down, taking your hand in his. As he kneels before you, you glance around in confusion—this isn't the collaborative space you had developed; it's *your* pod.

"Jeno, what's going on? This is supposed to be our demonstration pod for the presentation." you exclaim, your worry evident.

Jeno, undeterred, whispers, "I don't care about the presentation right now." Holding your hand tighter, he reveals a pod personalised just for you—your favourite scent of vanilla, your favourite song filling the air with soothing melody, and a colour palette of soft lavender, muted gold, and touches of black. Images of blooming cherry blossoms and gentle ripples on a serene pond adorn the walls, creating a tranquil and visually pleasing environment.

Overwhelmed, you can't fathom how Jeno knows all these intimate details you've never shared. Tears well up in your eyes, and you ask, "How did you...?"

"I know you better than you think." Jeno says softly, wiping away your tears. "Let's do some mindfulness exercises together. It might help."

As Jeno leads you through deep breaths and visualisation, your internal struggle intensifies. The stress of using this personal creation for an impromptu session gnaws at you, overshadowing the intended therapeutic effect.

"We're going to get in trouble, Jeno." you stammer between breaths, your anxiety rising.

"I don't care about that right now. I care about you." Jeno replies, his voice steady but filled with concern.

However, you are too far gone. Jeno's efforts, genuine as they are, can't penetrate the walls of your distress. Realisation dawns on Jeno's face—he can't help someone who isn't ready to be helped. Holding your face in his hands, a tear escapes his eye.

"I love you. I want to help you." Jeno pleads. "My heart is breaking seeing you like this. Why won't you let me in?"

Sobbing, you abruptly stand up and leave the pod, leaving Jeno behind with a shattered expression. "I told you I loved you." he whispers, watching you disappear, unable to comprehend why you chose to leave despite his sincere efforts to connect. As you go, he notices the absence of those three words from you, and tears fill his eyes too, realizing the depth of your pain and the strain on your connection.

✧ ✧ ✧

The pulsating beats of the music echoed through the crowded room, a symphony of laughter and clinking glasses resonating in the air. Neon lights cast vibrant hues on the partygoers, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of fleeting moments. Yet, in the midst of the lively chaos, your focus was on one person – Jeno.

The room felt suffocating as you navigated through the sea of bodies, your heart pounding in rhythm with the bass. This wasn't where you wanted to be; Jeno's infamous parties were the last place you'd willingly venture. Once, he had tamed his party spirit for you, a sacrifice to build a life together. Now, with the remnants of that love scattered like confetti, Jeno had reverted to his former self, perhaps even more recklessly.

He stood there, a red cup in hand, surrounded by the aura of popularity you once found intimidating. Memories of a time when he threw fewer parties for the sake of your connection flooded your mind. But now, any second threatened to pull him into the abyss of his "fuck boy" phase.

Summoning courage, you took a deep breath and approached him. His name left your lips, but he brushed you aside as though you were an apparition, the weight of his indifference making you feel transparent, like a forgotten ghost.

Attempting conversation only led to walls; he was rough, rude, a cruel reminder of a love now lost. The desperation to salvage what was left of a shared project pushed you to raise your voice, cutting through the noise of the party.

"JENO!"

His eyes met yours, a deadpan stare that could still weaken your resolve. The words you uttered about the pending project fell like heavy raindrops, but his response wasn't venomous – it was filled with an unexpected hurt.

"I'd rather fail," he said, and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing alone amidst the vibrant chaos, a solitary figure in a world that had once revolved aroundthe two of you.

As you gather your resolve to leave, the weight of impending all-nighters and deadlines bearing down on you, Donghyuck intercepts your escape with a mischievous smirk.

"Come with me," he insists, the insistence in his voice leaving no room for argument. "We're playing a game, and you have to be here. I won't let you go home yet."

Reluctantly, you follow Donghyuck into an empty room where a small group has gathered around a solitary bottle of alcohol placed in the center of the floor. Jeno sits on the opposite side, his gaze fixed on you. It takes a moment for you to realize why – you're wearing the dress he once gifted you, a stunning piece that captivates attention.

The atmosphere shifts as the game of spin the bottle begins. You shoot a glare at Donghyuck; this chaotic scene isn't your element. The room becomes a haze of alcohol, drugs, and unrestrained behavior. You feel like an outsider, an observer in a world that's foreign to you.

As the bottle takes its turns, the dares escalate, each one pushing the boundaries further. Yeji and Hyunjin had to dry hump, Chaewon and Ryujin shared an intense make out session and Karina faces a challenge that adds a layer of discomfort to the room.

Your mind begins to wander, almost fortunate to have escaped the bottle's whims, until it unexpectedly lands on Jeno. He maintains the same nonchalant expression, like a detached robot, throughout the game. Witnessing him in this state burdens your heart.

Then, your name is called, and the shock reverberates through you. Eyes widen, pulse quickens – you're suddenly the focal point of the game, and a daunting dare awaits.

“I repeat once more, Lee Jeno, would you rather kiss Y/N with the happy pill or do the same with Winter?” You gulp when you see that the bottle has landed on Jeno, Donghyuck’s words kept ringing in your head, you give him a deadpan expression and all he does is smile and blow you a kiss. He’s a menace. He planned this. You shake your head in annoyance as you see him rubbing his hand at the scene he’s created, the awkward silence, the tension, the stormy expression in Jeno’s eyes.

You gulp when you realise what’s truly going on. It’s a drug. You weren’t surprised, was it Jeno’s party if drugs weren't played with recklessly? You know Jeno loves them, he’s into that stuff, he’s crazy about it so why does he look so angry? You know him, you know his eyes should be growing with light and he’d be desperate to feel the release but he’s mad. He's abrupt and harsh. “Why are you involving drugs?”

There was a silence, Donghyuck just laughs

“I don’t want to do either.”

Jeno and Hyuck converse but it becomes a distant noise to you as you’re distracted. Your blood is boiling, you’re looking at Winter, her sweet smile and shadowed eyes giving you a racing heart. You know she doesn’t mean any harm by her actions, she isn’t a bad person but at the same time, her actions have had a negative affect on you.

Winter applies lip balm, puckering with certainty that Jeno will choose her over you. The anger you feel isn’t solely directed at her, but at the haunting memories of girls who made you feel weak and vulnerable, doubting the significance of your connection with Jeno. The realization hits – you stopped seeing Jeno to avoid this attention, to do what you thought was best.

No more. You’re taking a stand. You’re not focused on anything else, there’s so much booze and people, so much alcohol, so much music but your eyes are only on one person. the man you love so much. He’s arguing with Donghyuck so he doesn’t notice you move from your place, snatch the baggie from Donghyuck’s hand and give Winter a unapologetic glare, silently warning her not to move from her seat, it might’ve been childish but to your suprise she looks startled and sits back down.

You walk over to him and he immediately goes silent, eyes on you and instantly the light is restored. You’re shy and nervous but it doesn’t matter. he’s only one one that matters. making it up to him and showing him that you’re truly sorry and do want him matters the most.

He eyes the bag in your hand and looks stunned, eyes instantly going soft as he lowers you down onto his lap, hands moving all over. They grip the flesh on your thighs, biting his lip as he admires how sexy you look in the dress. His hands are gripping your waist securely, moving his face close to yours, showing the most concern and love in your eyes, that’s when you realise that the feelings never went, he’s never stopped adoring you.

“Baby.” he calls out your name softly, eyes looking over you in concern, you relish in his protective and caring touch that caresses your skin, you missed him so much

“Jeno.” you call out to him, holding onto his face so delicately, the two of you softly looking into each others eyes with giddy smiles, he nudges his nose against yours, calling you his pretty girl. Your spirits were too infectious to break. You truly ignored everyone else around you, especially Donghyuck, his background remarks kept ringing around, he was claiming that you were breaking every single rule in the game but you didn’t care

“Are you sure?” He questions with so much care as you bring the pill out of the bag, ready to put it on your tongue. he has strict eyes, you can see his protective side already. He wants your consent and he wants you to be 100% sure.

You know how much he loves stuff like this, you’ve always wished you was more outgoing for him. You don’t answer verbally.

You pull out pill from the bag, eyeing it like it was foreign, it was to you. You’ve seen Jeno do this so many times, you can do it. You handle it with care, making sure you don’t drop it as you place it on your tongue, eyes not leaving his as you do so, you see his breathing becoming heavy, a smirk that you love so much playing on his face. He’s in his heaven. He’s wanted this for so long. His two favourite things in the world. That combined with the fact he hasn’t touched you in so long, he’s already cumming in his pants.

You moan before you close your lips in on him, lips moving in a passionate yet slow manner, you haven’t done this in so long yet you instantly feel like home. You melt into his touch, fingers gripping onto him tightly as if he could slip away but you know he won’t ever again, it’s real, he’s yours.

He laughs against your lips when he realised you’ve become too indulged in the moment to forget that there was a pill resting on your tongue. He prods his own tongue against yours, the pill falling into his mouth effortlessly. Your tongues engage in a dance, conveying a depth of emotion that transcends words.

The warmth of your shared desire pulses through every lingering moment, igniting a fervent connection that speaks of longing, intensity, and the unspoken promises of passion.

The moment is heightened by a hundred, the kiss moves at a more rapid and intense rate, his hot breath moving against yours, you get lost in each other's embrace. Your kiss is making up for stolen time but you relish into him with a giddy smile when you realise that he’s yours and has always been. You won’t waste any time anymore,

You press against each together fervently, seeking solace and connection in the desperation of the moment. It's a collision of raw emotion, where the taste of longing lingers, and each kiss becomes a desperate plea for reassurance and a temporary escape from the overwhelming tide of uncertainty.

It’s frustrating that you had to do this with your clothes on, it’s clear that you both wanted to strip each other by the way your skirt had trailed so high up your thighs and how you’ve managed to unbutton half of his shirt. You’re gripping onto him for dear life as he starts thrusting against you, his hand pressed against your clothed clit, making rough motions as you grow more wet and frustrated as your lace thong sticks to you, you so desperately want him to strip you naked. His hardness prods against your pelvis, his tip meeting your folds every time he meets your hips.

You begin moaning his name against his lips, heavy pants and breaths against each other's mouth. In all honesty, you’ve both forgotten that there’s a crowd around you, your eyelids doubling explains why you’ve travelled to your own world with him. You’re so enchanted, desperate and horny for each other you genuinely forget you’re in the same room as people, so does he, his fingers are about to slide underneath your skirt and underwear to take it off in one rough motion, other hand reaching for a condom but you shake your head, telling him to cum in you because you’re still on the pill.

It’s so steamy. The 7 seconds has clearly exceeded a long time ago.

“Get a room! Can you guys take it somewhere else?” You’re finally brought back to reality, partially. You can only hear Donghyuck because he’s shouting close to your ear, tapping the both of you. You feel dizzy, you feel like you’re floating, you feel so good.

You ignore everyone, it’s just you and him. You continue to disregard everyone else as you finally hear all the background noise, the shouts and cheers, the whistling, the peering eyes. You don’t notice guys getting their phones out to film and take photos of you, you don’t notice Sunwoo knocking each phone from each shameless guys hands, deleting every photo and video and warning them with threats.

You’re out of your mind but you can recollect Jeno finally lifting the two of you up, he carries you to someplace more private, your legs around his waist as you continue to dry hump. You’re a mess, you keep moaning his name against his lips. “I know, I know, my love.” He whispers against your lips.

You feel a delicious thrill through your pussy, your heart beating erratically. The words ‘I love you’ are nearly slipping off your tongue.

“You’re my good girl, be patient and I’m gonna give you everything you want.” He promises, lust in his eyes. He magically manouvers through the crowds, dodging every single drunk, dancing person or couple all while making out with you passionately, his attention was 100% solely on you.

You let out a noise of excitement when you’re pressed against a wall roughly, Jeno follows shortly, his back pressing into yours. You travelled blind, you didn’t see a thing, you just maintained full trust in him. You can feel the change in atmosphere, it’s much quieter here, it’s just you and him.

He starts pressing kisses against the curve of your neck, languid and sensual, a heated whisper of desire lingered in the air. He caressed you with purpose, leaving his trail of heightened sensations behind with love marks and bites. You missed the feeling of him leaving hickeys so much. In that heated moment, your connection intensified, a symphony of shared longing and a promise of deeper, more intimate embraces to come.

He whispers against your skin, his touch although rough, lingered so softly on your skin. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He leans close to you, turning your tace to the side, his touch so caressing. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He says between kisses.

“Why did you ghost me like that? Hm?” He asks, fingertips gripping into your hips as he demands an explanation.

“I – I thought I was doing what was best.” You give a simple explanation, you was contemplating to fully explain what had happened, the conversation you had with Nagyung, the entire ordeal but now you’re standing here with the man you want to be with forever, so you realise that it doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe one day you’ll tell him everything but you don’t see yourself doing that anytime soon. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jeno. What matters is that I’m here with you and I’ll never do that to you again.”

“I’m so sorry, I truly am. It wasn’t right for me to ghost you like that with no explanation, I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you did something wrong. The truth is you didn’t, you were so good to me. You made me feel a way that no one has ever before, I never imagined that someone would make me feel so cherished and appreciated, you came from nowhere and rocked my whole world.”

He smiles against your lips, it’s clear your apology is sincere and it touches his heart. “It’s okay, I forgive you and now I want to punish you.” His voice goes darker and you know it’s the sex in him talking, it turns you on so much.

“Then ruin me.”

“But I wanna make so much love to you.” He groans, an internal conflict playing in his heart. “You’ve gone so long without my touch, are you sure you want me to go hard on you?”

You manage to lock the door behind you, filled

with determination. That tells him enough. He’s confused when you get down from his hold, nearly stumbling once you’re on the ground as dizziness overcomes you but you force yourself to have a strong stance. You try to appear more confident than you are, your eyes heavy with the desire to make him feel good.

Your eyes don’t leave his when you get down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with doe yet seductive eyes. He groans, getting himself ready with a huff, unbuckling his belt, cooing down at you when you struggled to do it, he cups your cheeks. “My pretty girl, you wanna make me feel good? You wanna make it up to me? You’re gonna take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You nod, suddenly becoming shy at how direct he is. He tuts, shaking his head, fingers gripping the skin beneath your skin roughly, looking down at you and shaking his head. He wants you to beg for him. Your pussy grows wet at his change in attitude.

“How badly do you need my cock?”

“I need it so badly. I’ve been thinking about your cock every single day, I’ll do anything to feel and taste it.” You start begging and pleading, holding his hands softly and kissing the flesh as you know that you’re his soft spot.

But it makes no difference, he won’t give you what you need unless you beg for him the way he wants you to. His eyes grow dark and his voice goes deeper, looking down at you seductively, fingers pressing into your mouth as he gives you a taste for only second. “Say it then.” His finger prods between your top and bottom lip, eyes dark as he’s waiting for the word that he’s been so desperate to hear since rekindling with you:

“Please Daddy!!! Please fuck my throat, Daddy.” You scream at the top of your lungs.

“There’s my good girl.”

Your hands grip his clothed cock, impatiently waiting as he rids himself of his boxers. You bring your knees close together in a bid to feel something which doesn’t go unnoticed by him: “My greedy slut has no patience.”

He shakes his head.

Your anticipation builds as you grasp his thighs, eagerly opening your mouth and meeting his lustful gaze. His hand caresses your cheek before guiding his cock against your chin, his heavy length slapping against your skin. He enters your mouth, you close your eyes and moan into him instantly, savoring the sensation and losing yourself in the moment.

His deep groan resonates as you swallow, and he grips your face while withdrawing his cock slowly. Spit gathers at the edges of your lips as he thrusts back into your mouth. A whimper escapes as the head of his arousal reaches the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water.

"Fuck," he hisses, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Your hands ascend, clutching his belt loops, drawing him nearer until his hips meet your chin.

He lingers momentarily before withdrawing, granting you a brief respite before pulling him back in. He watches intently as each thrust causes your throat to bulge, his fingers pressing against your neck, relishing the sensation.

Your mind is adrift, captivated by him and the sensations he invokes. Your lips ache from the stretch, mirroring the intensity elsewhere. Unbeknownst to you, your thighs rub together, seeking relief from the building pressure within.

His hands descend, teasing with pinches and nipple flicks, eliciting involuntary jerks. His cock, unwavering, continues its rhythmic exploration of your mouth. Gripping your thighs, he forcefully spreads your legs, prompting a cough as he grunts at the tightness, his fingers tantalizingly close to your core. You hold onto his belt loops, immersed in the moment.

"So wet just for me, all for Daddy," he murmurs, his fingers exploring the depths between your thighs, causing your toes to curl. "I wish I could eat you out at the same time, baby," he groans. A whimper escapes as he inserts two fingers, your legs spreading wide in tandem with the rhythmic dance of his mouth and fingers, propelling you toward the precipice.

"So perfect for me. Down on your knees just for me, my cock in my princesses pretty little mouth." he declares, plunging his cock down your throat. Tears and saliva cascade into your hair as you whimper. He looks down at you with a mixture of adoration and sadism in his eyes. You can tell he’s still having a conflict, he wants to make love to you and make you feel like you’re in infinity but he also wants to ruin you.

Your chest heaves as he accelerates his fingers, his other hand anchoring you with pressure against your lower stomach. "Can you hear how wet you are for me?" he taunts, the audible squelch accompanying each swift movement. As the intensity heightens, a new dimension of pleasure unfolds, leaving you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Your eyes begin watering as his thrusts become more languid, his eyes widening in size as he moans your name, sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth as his grip tightens on the makeshift ponytail he’s bunched your hair into, roughly yanking it to bring you even closer. “My pretty baby.” He admires you as you continue to open wide for him, drool and spit staining your cheeks

“Swallow.” He manages to demand in his hazy state, his voice a complete contrast to his gentle tone a few seconds ago. His cum drips out, so much of it.

You oblige like the good girl that you are, making Jeno’s heart race as he caresses your embrace, cooing at how good you’ve been for him. The liquid burns down your throat as you slurp every last drop, it drops all over your face. Jeno bites his lip and moans at the sight. Your panting against his cock as you savour every last taste, his cum that leaves a mark as it drips on your flesh.

The next thing you know is that he’s on the floor, knelt down beside you as he presses kisses all over your face. He melts at how cute you look covered in his cum, your cheeks a subtle pink as your lips curve up in a giddy smile. “Am I forgiven?”

He sighs, pressing the softest of kisses all over your face. “You’ve already made it up for me, my love.” He smiles, the most precious look ever. You don’t have time to respond because he lifts you up and kisses you, slamming the back of your body against the cold tiles.

“I’m gonna fuck you against the wall.”

He acts swiftly, aching desire between you both palpable. Impatience skips over prolonged foreplay. His hands roughly envelop your boobs as he profoundly fucks into you, your walls sucking him in.

His hips maintain a rapid, fervent pace against yours, igniting a symphony of sensations. Your voice rises, a crescendo of his name escaping your lips, the echo lingering in the air, dancing with the possibility of reaching others' ears.

"Good girl," he breathes, a whisper of dominance laced with desire. "You want everyone to hear how much you love me?"

In the aftermath, a blissful numbness envelops your body—a harmonious blend of pleasure and surrender. The echoes of passion's orchestration linger, leaving you immersed in the aftermath.

He continues his rhythmic movements through his climax, your legs trembling around him, creating a delicate balance. A subtle exploration finds that sweet spot, adding a layer of intimacy to the shared experience.

Whispering softly, he notes, "You're still so tight for me," expressing a connection that transcends the physical. The declaration of a need to be close, to share in the culmination of shared desire, adds a tender note to the symphony of emotions.

""I love you," you whisper with genuine warmth, the words echoing the depth of your feelings. "I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. It's you—always has been and always will be. I want to grow old with you, experience everything with you. I love you."

"You're incredibly beautiful. You're so good to me. You're my entire world," Jeno expresses, his voice a tender melody that wraps around your heart.

"Y/N," he speaks softly after a moment of quiet, his voice carrying a vulnerable tone that unveils layers of emotion. His eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and a promise of permanence.

"You won't leave me again?" he questions, the weight of his vulnerability evident in every word.

"Never," you reassure, your fingers tenderly running through his hair. "I will love you until I stop breathing."

A gentle smile graces his lips, and he closes his eyes, immersing himself in the rhythmic beat of your heart against his chest. His fingers weave through your hair, creating a comforting melody, and his breath becomes a soothing lullaby that caresses the intimate space between you two.

In a moment that lingers with sincerity and depth, he opens his eyes, gazing into your soul. "I love your more," he confesses, the words carrying the weight of every emotion he's ever felt. His declaration is not just a statement; it's a promise, a pledge to navigate the journey of love with you, embracing the beauty of every shared heartbeat and whispered melody.

✧ ✧ ✧

Beneath the celestial canvas of a perfect graduation day, the atmosphere buzzes with an electric mix of excitement and nerves. As you stand on the stage, a serene breeze gently rustles the diplomas in your hands, symbolising the journey of growth and resilience. Above, clouds drift in the blue sky like transient dreams.

You’re surrounded by the sea of your peers, each face reflects the shared triumphs and challenges of the academic voyage. The air is thick with your nerves but your newfound ability to navigate anxiety renders the experience more bearable. You’re doing better, emotionally and physically.

So many eyes are looking up your way but your attention is drawn, unwaveringly, to one face — your handsome boyfriend. Dressed in a graduation suit that complements the solemnity of the occasion, his recently dyed blonde hair adds a touch of vibrancy to the scene. He looks hot.

His gaze meets yours, and as if orchestrated by destiny, the world around you blurs, leaving only the two of you in sharp focus. The warmth of his mesmerising smile works like a balm, dissolving the remnants of nervousness that linger. In this shared moment, he blows a gentle kiss, a silent reassurance that transcends words.

He motions to his phone and you smile his way, breaking eye contact to take your own phone from your front pocket, his text messages leaving a mark on your heart.

As Professor Suh announces the imminent commencement of the valedictorian speech, you swiftly tuck your phone away. You draw in a deep breath. A fleeting but meaningful smile passes between you and Jeno, His eyes, a comforting anchor, capture your attention one last time.

You observe him lean back, sigh, and brace himself, a knowing expression gracing his face, he knows that you haven’t listened to him. A subtle smirk plays on your lips as you witness his friends, quick to tease him. With the echo of your smile lingering in the air, you step forward, propelled by a newfound confidence, falling into the depth of Jeno's eyes one last time before embracing the responsibility of delivering the valedictorian speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed faculty, honored guests, and my extraordinary fellow graduates,

As we stand on the cusp of a momentous occasion, I want to extend my heartfelt congratulations to each and every one of you. Graduating and completing your honors is no small feat, and you should all be immensely proud of your hard work and dedication.

As I reflect on the journey that brought us to this significant moment, I want to share a story that began on my very first day at this university—a story that unfolded into a groundbreaking initiative. A project, focusing on Virtual Reality Therapy, emerged as a transformative endeavor, leveraging VR technology to construct therapeutic environments for those navigating stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. The aim was audacious yet profound: to pioneer an approach that delves into the intricate realms of emotional, social, and cultural interactions within these virtual therapeutic spaces.

I must admit, the inception of this project was nerve-wracking. The unexpected assignment, the weight of its aspirations—I never envisioned being chosen for such an innovative venture. Yet, in the midst of uncertainty, I found myself humbled and honored to be part of this ambitious pursuit.

This project was not a solo endeavor; it was a collaborative journey, and I had the privilege of working alongside someone exceptional. Jeno, my partner in this endeavor, brought his engineering expertise to the table, playing a vital role in translating our vision into reality. Together, we navigated the challenges and triumphs of this innovative initiative.

As the project unfolded, it garnered recognition beyond our university's borders. It's not my intention to bore you with the details, for the university has rightfully celebrated its achievements. This initiative has earned global accolades, winning numerous awards and gaining recognition worldwide—an accomplishment that resonates not just within these academic halls but across the international stage.

Yet, if I may be candid, my personal connection with the project has evolved. While its success is undeniable, and its impact has reached far and wide, my focus has shifted beyond the accolades. It's a testament to the journey we've shared and the growth we've experienced together. Jeno and I, alongside all of you, have played our part in this remarkable chapter of our academic lives.

Now, as I shift the focus of our journey to a more personal realm, let me unveil why this project has become the most profound and romantic chapter of my academic venture. It’s a tale of love, of unexpected connections, and how, amidst the pixels and algorithms, I discovered something far more intricate—the story of how I met my boyfriend, Jeno.

Picture this: as we navigated the intricacies of the project, Jeno, my partner in this venture, revealed a side of himself that extended beyond the confines of his engineering expertise. He was, in essence, the orchestrator of a symphony of intelligence and charm, yet too nervous to stand before you today. His modesty led him to suggest that I take full credit for our shared efforts.

I couldn’t, in all honesty, adhere to his suggestion. You see, I find an unparalleled joy in showcasing him, in proudly proclaiming that he is not only the love of my life but also a brilliant mind beneath the carefully curated image he upholds. Jeno, despite his attempts to downplay it, exudes intelligence effortlessly, and it’s this subtle brilliance that makes him irresistibly attractive.

Sure, we’ve had our fair share of arguments, a clash of wills rooted in the image he feels compelled to uphold. But, oh, how we love. Love transcends the disagreements, and the project, beyond its academic significance, emerged as the catalyst that brought us together. It changed my life, and if you were to look into my eyes, you’d see the depth of my feelings—a love that transforms the way we gaze at each other.

Our eyes tell a story of admiration and attraction, a silent language that binds us with an invisible thread even when words remain unspoken. My eyes, always twinkling and smiling in the company of the love of my life, bear witness to undying feelings—a connection that surpasses the boundaries of time and space.

I share this not merely as a personal anecdote but as a testament to what truly matters. Love, in all its complexities and simplicity, matters more than the rigors of university assignments. University, at its core, is about forging connections and savoring the joy in every moment. It isn’t the end of the world, and even if we stumble, even if we fail, we will endure and live on.

As I reflect on our journey, I can honestly say I have no regrets. This year, I faced a tough challenge—severe anxiety. It affected everything—my studies, friendships, and especially my relationship with Jeno. But I want you to know, I overcame it. My message to all of you is that no matter what life throws your way, you have the strength to overcome it. I believe in you.

Life is unpredictable, but that's what makes it beautiful. Live your life fully, surround yourself with good friends and family. If things get tough, our pods, created by Jeno and me, is there for you.

And speaking of Jeno, the love of my life, this speech is for him. He's been my strength, and I dedicate these words to him. Thank you, and may your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.

So, as we stand on the brink of a new chapter, let’s celebrate the love that intertwines our stories. For in this shared journey, we find the essence of what makes university life extraordinary—moments of connection, joy, and, above all, love.

Thank you, and cheers to the Class of 2023. May your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.”

As the cheers, claps, and laughter of the audience envelop the room, your joy is palpable. Hats soar into the air, mirroring the elation etched across your face. Happiness radiates from you, a beacon in the sea of celebration. Amidst the sea of faces, you find yourself scanning for one person, and a momentary pang of disappointment strikes when his seat appears empty.

However, a sudden embrace from behind interrupts your search, and there's only one pair of arms that could make you feel this secure. Your boyfriend envelops you in a back hug, his whispered words in your ear a sweet symphony of pride and love. He praises your performance, telling you just how incredibly well you did. “I’m so proud of you, I love you.”

His arms, strong and muscular, create a haven around you. You melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and security he provides. Leaning back into him, his words take a playful turn. His hot breath against your ear, he smirks and teases, “You think you're the only one who can embarrass people?”

Suddenly, his lips meet yours in a public display of affection on the elevated stage. The kiss is not just a peck; it's heated, passionate, and unapologetic. The world fades away as he doesn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

In the heat of the moment, the kiss is all-consuming, a full-on collision of passion. Your tongues engage in a fervent dance, an intimate tangle that heightens the intensity. Jeno's bites on your lips add a playful edge to the heated exchange, each nibble sending sparks through the connection.

As he breathes heavily against you, the air between you crackles with desire. The sensation of his arousal intensifies, palpable in the way he presses against you. His grip on your hair is tight, an assertion of desire that elicits a wince, a sweet blend of pleasure and a hint of pain.

Amid the fervor, your arm circles around his neck, drawing him closer. A smile that plays on your lips before you break away to catch your breath. “I’m not embarrassed. Why would I be? I love you, and I don't care who sees and knows."

His grin widens as he witnesses your transformation—a bolder, more unapologetic version of yourself. In this moment, you radiate confidence, embracing the essence of who you are without concern for others' opinions. His love for you deepens as he watches you stand tall, proud of the person you've become. In his eyes, your authenticity and resilience are truly something to be cherished.

The audience, initially cheering for your performance, now witnesses a different kind of spectacle—one fueled by love, playfulness, and an unapologetic embrace of affection. It's a scene etched in the memories of those present, a testament to the unabashed love between you and your boyfriend.

As you both watch each other with affectionate smiles, Jeno can't help but speak up, his tone filled with playful disbelief. "Really? You're not embarrassed? What happened to that line you were gonna—" He pauses, groaning and widening his eyes as you tap on the microphone, shamelessly grabbing the audience's attention once again.

“Y/N. No. I was just joking. Oh God.”

A moment of silence descends like a dropped pin could be heard. "I have something to add," you say, holding Jeno's hand and locking eyes with him. "I don't believe in God, but God made you for me. I love you, Lee Jeno."

Jeno groans as people whistle but as he looks in your eyes, he has to admit that he’s quite fond of this moment. He shakes his head, coming up behind you once more. "I love you more," he counters with a teasing smile.

"Really, God made me for you? That's a good one," he remarks, his tone light but with a subtle darkness in his eyes.

You respond with a sweet smile, "Never in my life did I think I'd experience a love story like this."

Your gaze is light and affectionate, but Jeno's eyes darken as he playfully accuses, "My blasphemous girl."

The atmosphere is meant to be romantic, he’s kissing you so softly and cooing into your ear as you melt into his back, his strong arms caging you in. The crowd erupts in cheers, and you force a smile, concealing the internal struggle between desire and the need to maintain composure.

Your sharp warning cuts through the air, adding a tense edge. "It's supposed to be a romantic moment; I will cut your fucking dick off," you declare, your tone carrying a mix of threat and irritation.

"Don't talk to me like that when you're the one rubbing against me like a bitch in heat." He grits through his teeth, somehow managing to conceal himself when he lands a slap on your ass, warning you to behave.

"This is a cute moment. My parents are here, and so are yours. Your mom is crying," he whispers in your ear, prompting a wave and a few tears as you look her way but she’s not even paying attention to you, you roll your eyes as Jeno blows her a kiss.

However, he quickly shifts the tone, calling out your arousal. "And you're horny?" he remarks, a mix of amusement and admonishment. "You better stop, or the entire audience will hear you scream my name," he warns, heightening the suspense.

"And you're not wearing underwear? You needy slut.” Jeno teases with a playful smirk evident in his voice.

Your response, delivered with a pout, adds a touch of endearing innocence to the playful exchange. “You literally took it off in the car.” You protest, the pout reflecting a mix of innocence and mild reproach.

Jeno's counter, delivered with a chuckle. "Yeah, because you made me park halfway here because you wanted to ride my cock.”

“What was I supposed to do? You was so cute in the car, telling me that I’m your other half, that you see yourself marrying me and growing old with me, did you or did you not deserve to get your cock sucked in that moment?”

He gives you a knowing smirk. “I did.”

- -

if you enjoy please leave an ask <3 talk to me. i've uploaded this 3 times cus ive been shadowbanned

comment to be added to the tag list for the sequel

wanna check out more mfal content? check out the mfal ml here includes text posts, never seen before scenes, smut scenes, facts and behind the scenes content <3

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tending-the-hearth · 11 months

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everything i loved about "the little mermaid" live action

Ariel's melody being her siren song!! that little new bit of lore!! i also really liked that it added more depth as to why Ursula wanted her voice in exchange for her becoming human

the way Ariel became almost angry during the bridge of "Part of Your World", she was so frustrated that she couldn't do the things she was dreaming about, like YES let her be mad!!

full body chills during "Part of Your World" + the first reprise

Ariel helping Max onto the boat 😭😭😭

I've mentioned this before, but Ariel hearing Eric's voice before seeing him!!! hearing him sing before seeing him!!! agh!!!!

Eric holding Ariel's hand on the shore after she rescues him 😭

the detail put into each of Ariel's sisters was so stunning, i'm so excited to read more about them in the books! i loved that they each had their own specific vibe

THEY INCLUDED THE FACT THAT URSULA AND TRITON ARE SIBLINGS YES THANK YOU VERY MUCH

"For the First Time" being a voice over, as Ariel's thoughts, and then the scene shifting to complete darkness except for her to represent us being in her head and hearing her thoughts, and the way it gets cut off when she realizes she can't say "hello" to Eric? i cried

The Jodi Benson cameo and her giving Halle!Ariel the fork 😭 literally her passing on the mantel of Ariel 😭😭

Eric and Ariel being total nerds with each other??

The way Ariel "told" Eric her name using the constellations???? and him saying it was written in the stars???? hello????

Also Eric saying "my little mermaid" made me so soft wtf

Eric and Ariel running around and giggling in the castle and being the definition of puppy love like they're so goofy and in love i adore them

the "Part of Your World" reprise after Ariel sees Eric with Vanessa shattered my heart, the MOST heartbreaking song

Grimsby kicking the ring away after it falls near him, my man knew exactly what was going on, he's known Ariel for three days and is already a ride or die

just Ariel and Eric holding each other so tightly after she gets her voice back, and Eric refusing to let her go until Ursula literally has to throw him away

ARIEL BEING THE ONE TO KILL URSULA USING THE SKILLS SHE SAW ERIC USE OH MY GOD IT WORKED SO SO WELL

i like that they added a chunk of time passing between Ursula's death and Eric and Ariel reuniting, it added a little extra drama and emotion when they finally saw each other again!

listen i'm an absolute sucker for a "hug before kiss" reunion and i was SO happy that Eric and Ariel had that, it fit them and their relationship perfectly, the way Eric just clung to her, and Ariel's happy smile as she hugged him back 😭

The mermaid statue and the dress representing the land vs. the sea???? and both returning back to where they're supposed to be but having new meanings????

Ariel's wedding dress being pink to (probably) pay homage to her pink ballgown in the animated movie was such a good touch, and i loved the length!!

Triton and Ariel's goodbye, where he says "you shouldn't have had to give up your voice for me to hear you"???? hello my father issues jumped tf out and had me sobbing in the theater

literally the entire movie was so beautiful, i could talk about it for hours, this is the best live action remake honestly, and Eric and Ariel (specifically the live action version obvi) have moved up to become my favorite Disney Princess/Prince pairing, just behind Belle and Adam (bc let's be honest, nothing can top them)

@queen-with-the-quill bc i know you're seeing it soon! more things i forgot to tell you lol

#the little mermaid #the little mermaid 2023 #the little mermaid spoilers #ariel #prince eric #disney

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x011011x · 2 months

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Ma Douce Souffrance

Yandere!Rook x Lovesick!Reader Angst

Trigger warnings: Murder, gore, hunting, animal taxidermy, human taxidermy, smut, mentions of pregnancy, hair pulling, uses of nicknames, lowkey stalking, Rook needs a trigger warning of his own

Word count: 11.4k+

IT'S DONE!! IT'S GODDAMN DONE!! And it's GRUESOME. Lowk sexy too cause of the sex scene but yeah. IT'S SO HEARTBREAKING, HEART WRENCHING (unless you're insane, then it's true love)

"They told me this was a beautiful town with beautiful people. And mon Dieu, were they truthful!" he spoke excitedly, cupping your lifeless face in his hands, eyes glimmering.

You didn't know about much outside of your hometown.

But, it was a peaceful life. The village where you had spent all your life was beautiful. It was abundant in flora and fauna. Most of the village was situated upon a great river that stretched beyond what one could see. Valleys covered with fog swirled around the other side of the village as though it was wrapping the land in a tight embrace, restricting the sight beyond.

The town was remote. The connections it had with the outside world were mostly made because of economical reasons. But this town itself was quite developed, anyone choosing farm work only choosing it for tradition. People were joyous and the celebrations were lined up one after the other. No faces were left unknown, a certain habit of chattiness present in almost every resident in one way.

That was how you spent your dull, empty life till then. Seeing the same old people every single day with very rare variety.

'It's odd', you thought, looking into the distance while walking through a part of the vast forest that seemingly only you knew of. It was one of the rare reliefs from the boring circle of life you had been trying to get used to since the day you were born, filled to the brim with all sorts of eccentricities.

There was a lone cabin that resided at the very end of the woods, but you never saw anyone there. Forget the rare occasions where outsiders came to visit, you never even saw any residents in that cabin. You had knocked on the small wooden door several times before, hoping to hear a voice from the inside. To see who this cabin belonged to.

You realized your attempts were futile when your curiosity got the best of you and after two patient years of visiting without a response you opened the cabin door that never had a lock in the first place to take a peek inside. To no surprise, the cabin was completely vacant. It barely had any furniture and was completely devoid of the sign of life. It was apparent no one had set foot in this cabin for many years. But, it stirred your interest in that cabin further.

You visited that cabin everyday since the day you saw it during one of your solitary walks.

That cabin, mostly covered by a mist like most of its surroundings, was situated on top of a small hillock. One couldn't see how it truly was without climbing up to it. At first glance, it was a simple two-storied cabin. There was a small set of stairs that led up to the lodge which was placed on a higher platform. The main structure was situated within the balcony that went around the whole cabin. The cabin seemed to be mainly built of wood, with some uses of rock seen here and there.

The inside, being mostly empty, still did have some oddities laying around. A worn out sofa at the corner of the room, on the left from the entrance. A glass table a bit further away. A staircase on the right side of the room that led upstairs. A kitchen just beyond the staircase, separate from the empty caricature of a living room and… No.

You had scanned over those things more times than you could care to count, so much so that your eyes became almost tired of seeing the same thing again and again. Your interest lied in other things that were there.

'Really, it's so peculiar', you thought. Those empty mounts, each lacking a head. Those empty cases hung on the wall, obviously meant for hanging either guns or arrows and bows. And the most odd of them all, in your opinion, an album.

You found the album upstairs, a floor that seemed like it was meant to be used as a bedroom, but just like the so-called 'living room', the very bareness of the room put the word 'bedroom' to shame. The only things the room had were a single bed with a white mattress and pillow. Even then, the bed had no bedsheets and the pillow wasn't covered by a pillow case.

Beside the bed though, was a small side table. The first time you came into this cabin, three years ago, you took a note to yourself to not open the two small drawers of the table, choosing to respect the privacy of the people you didn't know. You did well on that note for precisely five months. 'No one has yet to appear. Might as well just look.'

An almost ear-piercing screech ran through the air, the drawer stuck from clearly not having been opened in a long time. A huge photo album sat there, covered in dust and debris. A few bits were, you could connect, insect faeces and remains. It disgusted you in a childish way, so much so that you returned back home that day. Next day, you appeared with tons of cleaning tools. It was clear to you that if you wanted to spend more time, inspecting that album and just generally enjoying your time alone in a place that piqued your curiosity, you really needed to clean things up around there.

You spent the whole day cleaning the cabin. You dusted the stray leaves off the stairs, mopped the floors, wiped the tables and the counters in the kitchen. Everything had an appealing glimmer to it by the time you were done. Pleased with the sterile scent of cleaning products burning your nostrils after you were done, at the very last, you wiped the album of the dirt it had collected over the years it had been abandoned. Finally sliding your gloves off with a smooth motion, you took the album into your lap.

'It has to be empty', you tried reasoning. There was no reason for it to not be empty. From the previous day, the first time you saw the album, you hoped it would be just empty. This lodge belonging to someone, and you not knowing that certain someone scared you. Your heart started beating faster as you slowly opened the first page of the book, anticipating nothing yet almost fearing there would be something. And there it was.

Upon opening the first page, you were greeted with a picture of a young boy. Your heart started thumping. 'Is this the child of the owner of this place? How old is he now? Why have I never seen him?' your heart held all sorts of uncertainties. Suddenly it felt like someone was watching her. Your heart felt heavy, as if someone was tightly and painfully gripping it from the corners and trying to displace it from its rightful place within your ribs.

Yet, your soul of curiousity turned out to be a greater vice than the threat that lied in suddenly being found out. Because 'This fear is irrational anyways, no one came over for years. Why would they come out to question me now?'

Since then, after a long day at your farm, everyday at the brink of dusk, you would return to that mist-covered cabin once again. It became your usual spot to relax and spend time by yourself. you never told anyone about the spot, opting to bask in the serene and peaceful nature all by yourself. You maintained the cleanliness of the cottage, cleaning it up twice a week. you put sheets on the bed and a pillowcase for the pillow.

You put on decorative mats on the tables and side tables around the cabin. You even placed a small flower vase on the bedside table upstairs. You placed a few lilies in the vase. And though they kept wilting, you were happy to replace it again and again. You left some dry foods to snack on in the cupboard of the kitchen. A fruit basket filled with red, ripe pomegranates was also left on the kitchen counter. With that, you had customised the once abandoned cabin enough for it to be a suitable place to spend time in.

But your eyes were mainly somewhere else. You had taken to observing that album everyday. It felt eerie. The people in the pictures must have been still alive. To think you were looking without none of them knowing. You felt like a criminal and knew you had to stop.

'But do I?'

And so still, you turned the rough pages. It was more of a scrapbook than an album, the pictures placed messily with a glue. Yet, the further the album progressed, the cleaner the placement of the pictures became. 'The person who placed these pictures was growing up, huh?'

Those photographs left a lot to be deciphered, yet a lot was clear. There was mainly one person present in the picture. A young boy with blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest you were in, a happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face. From his youth to his mid teenage years, he had long hair and freckles. The boy was tanned and wore torn clothes. A sudden transition showed that he had grown up quite a lot, his hair in a neat bob cut and his freckles were gone. It even seemed that he had updated his wardrobe.

In his last picture, he was with 2 people and a cat with flaming ears. 'Ah, he must be a mage, we don't see much of those around,' you remarked mentally, impressed.

You learned a lot through the pictures. The boy seemed to be from a family that was collectively fond of hunting. There were guns and arrows present in the pictures. Some photographs also seemed to be memoirs of a hunt. The scenery in the background always seemed to change, switching house to house. It seemed that he had five siblings, based on how similar he and the other five children often present in the vignettes looked.

The more you learned, it seemed to be a fuel for your fire than an ease to your nerves.

You found yourself looking at pictures of the boy who had grown into a young man while longing to know his name.

And like a routine, a clockwork that maintained its time dutifully everyday, you were once again returning to the cabin in the woods. It felt a bit different today. The animals were a bit noisier, as if they were alarmed of a predator lurking around. But, you assumed it was just between the animals, nothing to do with you. You climbed the stairs to the cabin and turned the lights on. Light music played from your phone that was in your hands.

It was… normal. Just like any other day. The sofa and table were where they were meant to be. The mounts and wooden display box seemed normal-

"What is that bow-arrow doing there?"

Your eyes bore into the wooden case that seemed to suddenly have a bow and an arrow placed there. 'Did I put that there?', you pondered, and then came to the conclusion that you must've. For all the things you had decorated in this second home, you must've not kept that one thing empty and soulless. In your hasty inconsideration, you missed the small droplets of crimson splayed on the blade of the arrow as you made your way upstairs.

That's when the real shock came. The bed was as organized as ever, so was the small side table. Yet, there was a charger laying on the table that you had not seen before. It wasn't yours, that was for sure. And then, there was also a suitcase on the floor, neatly placed there as though it was just a decoration piece and not used for carrying clothes and other necessities around during travel. you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Who the fuck…?" you couldn't keep your thoughts to yourself out of pure disbelief.

That same feeling of being watched came over you. Yet, this time it felt like someone was truly chasing you from the behind, and was quite close to catching up to her. Your heart beat so harshly against your chest that a numb pain spread throughout your upper body. your head throbbed in panic of the unfamiliar. The light rhythmic beat of the music seemed to match with the throbbing in your ear.

Five years. It had been five years and this cabin had no sign of life except for that curious diary. Not before you gave this cabin life, the title of secondary but still home. What were all these now? It became clear to you that the bow-arrow was most probably not placed by you. you made quick on your feet and ran to the kitchen. You were overstimulated enough that the mere sound of your shoes sliding against the floor as you ran sounded like a static screech to your ears.

The static reached from your ears to your head, all of the thoughts you had further sounding jumbled and pitched in either tones much lower or higher than your usual note. You blinked your eyes at the beef jerky laying on the kitchen counter. If it was home, you would just grab one and eat it like it was nothing but 'I have never bought beef jerky here.' you were almost tempted to push aside your suspicions about everything and think that you did all of that and just didn't remember but you really didn't bring any of those things you saw in the cabin.

You just knew one thing. Someone came into the cabin, placed all of these odd things here and it was not you.

You felt that you were not welcome anymore by whoever currently residing here. Turning on your heels to lead yourself back to the entrance that was also the only exit, you froze. A slight sound of rustling came from the outside before the door turned. A man stepped through the door frame with his eyes to the ground, but merely a second passed before his eyes locked in with yours. A vivid image flashed through your vision. The smiling boy in those pictures…

There stood a man with blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest you were in, a happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face. The boy from those photographs.

Observing you for only a few moments, moments that were stifling to you, he opened his mouth, chirping, "Ah, you are the person who took care of this cottage in my absence? Merci!"

His friendly voice cooled your nerves a little. So, you weren't hallucinating and this was a person and not a ghost. But, that realization almost made the situation more awkward. You croaked out an apology, "Oh- um, yeah… Sorry, this cabin is yours, I assume."

"My family's, yes," he explained, his eyes almost twinkling and looking through the miniature house excitedly even though he was essentially talking to a trespasser, "We have many abodes across Twisted Wonderland, but what a shame! It's rare we get to use any of them. Most of us just live in Sunset Savanna."

He then looked at you and said, "You have taken care of this place magnificently! Oh, but it was brimming with radiance and love the second I stepped in even after so many years!"

You kept looking at the man and offered him a disoriented smile, waiting for your eventual cue to leave. But, he was interesting. No other person you knew would take to a stranger managing their home so well. If anything, the man with an odd bob-cut in front of her, was actually pretty friendly. He was babbling about something but you didn't really understand what he was talking about, he was talking so fastly.

After a while, he came to a pause and exclaimed once again, "Ah, where are my manners? I should introduce myself first. My name is Rook. Rook Hunt," he introduced himself and offered his hand in a suave manner.

Your heart skipped a beat. Not because you were falling in love with this random man but because for so many years you longed to know his name. And then you knew it. His last name too, which meant you had an idea on what the names of the other members in his family could be. A genuine, happy smile bloomed on your face as you introduced yourself as well, your hand joined his one in a cheerful handshake, "My name is (Name). I live in this town."

He smiled widened when he heard your name. It felt as though his pupils widened. The tall man looked like a child as he shook your hand in excitement. His happiness was charming. You let go of his hand though you felt as though if you could, you would keep holding onto it. You opened your mouth to confess what you had done in the cabin in the past years. Your eyes blinked faster and your mouth gaped, a bit hesitant to admit to your fascination for the man. But at last, you admitted, "That album… that young boy was you, wasn't he? I've been watching you for years."

Rook looked a bit shocked, which you grimaced at. But, you were glad to see the smile return on the man's face. It seemed as though the other man did not even consider that you were practically stalking him for so many years without his knowledge. He answered honestly, "Oui, it was me. You have a good eye, Trickster!"

You were a bit confused about the nickname but decided not to query him about it. you moved closer to him, not to approach him but the exit and nodded, "Thank you. But, I've overstayed my welcome for about three years now. I'll be then."

The man suddenly grabbed onto your wrists. You were surprised at his strong grip, your (E/C) eyes widening in a small panic. You looked down at where he held you. His forearms were well built and sturdy. Strong enough that it could crush your windpipe without much problem. But when you looked up at him, he was still smiling. It was odd though, he felt so genuine, yet it seemed as though his face lacked something. And you couldn't point out what.

"I won't hold you back right now but do come to visit. I'm on a private work tour. But since someone knows already, I'd rather have company," he explained before pausing. He pondered a bit on what to say before adding with a hearty chuckle, "I'll tell you more about myself, Trickster, I can see you're quite passionate about this cottage and well me. I'm quite familiar with and fond of those qualities."

He sent you off with a wink and a pat on the shoulder. And you were frankly left wondering what the hell was up with him.

It had been perhaps a week since the man who introduced himself as Rook had started staying in the cabin. He said his tour would last half a year. You wondered why it would take that long. You hadn't properly visited that cabin since that day, but when you peeked by during daytime, you could see the cottage was completely empty. And if you peeked by during the evening, you didn't know how but it seemed that the mere sound of your footsteps compelled Rook outside, as he always waved at you. Then you'd have to stop for a while to chat, but never once enter the cabin.

You were in the forest again, walking through the greenery and enjoying the gentle sunlight peeking through the trees just before it would blend into the cold evening. A basket in hand, you were in search of berries. You looked through the plants and were saddened to see empty bushes. You found a poison ivy plant and oddly enough, you felt compelled to eat it. But you brushed that thought away with a light giggle.

Out of nowhere, a rough hand placed itself on your shoulder. You were shocked, jumping as you looked behind your back. The smiling face of Rook greeted you, his lips parted to show a set of perfectly placed, pearly teeth. You sighed of relief as you scolded him in a light-hearted tone, "Rook! You scared me!"

"My apologies, mon amour" he snickered, heartfelt amusement seeping through his enigmatic green eyes. "May I inquire as to what you're doing?"

"Berry picking," you deadpan, pointing to the empty basket, "Unsuccessfully so, as you can see."

He looked curiously down at your basket. You wondered what he felt so excited about from it, seeing as it was completely empty, representing the desert more with its sandy hue rather than something meant for carrying berries of different tastes and colours. He then looked back at you and offered, "Such a shame that you haven't been able to acquire anything yet! Would you like me to assist you?"

At that time, you awkwardly agreed to his offer of assistance. Now it seemed like he was doing all the berry picking and you were doing all the berry eating. He was going on about a topic, the concept of beauty or something as you both walked through the woods. You were listening to him carefully, trying to understand what he was talking but he just talked way too fast. He had a certain sway in his steps, seeming like a little boy as he pranced through the bushes.

"Ah, Trickster, don't you think today is a most wonderful day!"

"I mean, it's just any other day. The forest looks fine an-" you wondered why he was so amazed by a common day, "But what do you think? You like sunsets?"

"Of course! The sun is setting and blending into the sky, signifying the death of a day. Yet for chicks, this is the time that birds return home and feed them, which continues their cycle of life–" he said in one breath, "Don't you think a scene that reflects the cycle of life is most wonderful? I feel as if I'm upon the highest clouds whenever I behold such views."

"You…"

"Hm?" he looks back to see that you were cracking up. You burst out laughing, the loud sound echoing throughout the forest. "Ooh, it seems I have amused my Trickster!"

"It's just-" you said through gasps as you tried to catch your breath instead of continuously laughing, "It's so funny you see it that way!"

"May I ask why?" he asked, interested in hearing your opinion.

"It's just… I've never seen it in such a... romanticised manner. To me the sunset has always been beautiful, but not meaningful in that sense. And the birds? I've never considered them. I'm no poet, Rook. I'm a farmer's girl, like most people here."

"So you see no point in examining beauty? It's much the opposite to me."

He handed you over a few berries while he put plenty in the basket. You plopped the small blueberry in your mouth while you walked, pondering on what to say, "That's true, I've noticed you're a very mindful person."

"Mindful is not the most commonly used word when describing me."

"Then what is?"

"Creepy," he laughed softly after saying that, seemingly amused by the things people said to him.

"I don't think you're creepy!" you stopped to think what you could add, slightly offended by what other had said to this eccentric but very sweet man, "If anything, I'm creepy for coming into your cabin without permission for three years"

"And yet, you're what gave that lodge a lively touch. A soul," his face warmed, his eyes looked like he truly believed his own words by heart

Maybe it was the sweet flavour of the berry that had you in an already good mood because it felt like the gears in your heart had moved a little that afternoon. It would be a lie to say that the man wasn't good looking and it left you a bit red-faced to receive a meaningful compliment like this for the first time. You mumbled out a thank you as you kept following him, not knowing where he would go.

"Where are you going?" you called out when he had gotten too far, confused by his motives that seem to be concrete and yet you knew nothing of them.

"Patience is a great virtue!" he replied back, eventually starting to run. You didn't know where he was going but you ran too, for the berries and for him… Mostly for him.

That day, he brought you to the cliff of the hill, not your usual place to watch the sunset as you had done so from the cabin for the past few years but the view that day was gorgeous. Blue and orange blended into the sky from two sides while small streaks of pink could be seen lightly placed on the clouds. It swirled around in a beautiful spiral.

When asked about it, while you didn't say much except how the wind looked 'hella crazy', Rook went on another poetic ramble about how ,"The spiral represented the spiral that goes upwards or downwards of a human's life in a sickly yet beautifully painful way, shown through the divine medium that is the sky. A promise from the Great Sevens. An enticing message. It even represents beauty beyond humans, the very galaxy we live in being quite spiral-like in shape. How très bien!"

That day, for the first time in your life, you felt moved. You felt like you saw someone who was truly living. Some shackled with work? Sure, but they didn't let that work shackle their heart.

That's the first time in your life you felt free as well.

Just like that, you and Rook became… friends. He was an odd man. But he was passionate and funny. Quite handsome too, you'd have to shyly admit. You noticed that it was actually a habit of his that once he started talking, it was hard to make him to stop. But he filled your lone days with sweet and wonderful memories. He had told you that it was a private job that he was here for, and that's why you told no one about him being here. You wanted to tell everyone about the new person in town, but you made an oath and you felt the need to do good on it.

He really was a hunter, too. Everyday, he would come back with his hunts. You'd scrunch up your nose in posh scrutiny as you saw him kill and gut those animals. And then eventually forget all the complaints you had when he served up delicious food on the table. It was a bit hard to explain to your parents why you stopped having dinner with them, but you managed just fine.

On a common sunny day, he was placing the head of a moose from a recent hunt on one of the mounts after hearing you complain about how the mounts had no purpose at that point. You really wanted him to remove the mounts themselves but he insisted that adding animal heads would be better. It creeped you out but you swallowed it. It often truly did send chills down your spine how easily he killed animals and mutilated their body in various ways.

You understood the need for nutrition but hunting was like a passion to him. Something he was truly invested in. But you were, true to the very core of the phrase, a curious being by nature. As such you kept returning to him to learn more about him, the man you had been observing for three long years of your mere 19 years of life.

Honestly? It was hard to get anything out of him. The green eyes beauty marched completely at his own pace. You could ask him a question and while he was never rude about it, never once showing an ounce of contempt, if he didn't want to answer your question, he would simply start talking about something else. It made your heart long to know more about him. It confused you, really. The questions you asked were rarely personal.

Yet, he became weirdly coy when asked about himself. Even though he didn't seem shy by nature.

You were stirring a pot of penne pasta as you were looking at him placing a head on one of the mounts. At that point, only one mount was left. You wondered what could be hung there as you served his plate. Once again, you smiled a little at how much you had to put on his plate. The first time you made his plate while he was doing something, he smiled sheepishly and told you that it wasn't nearly enough to sate his appetite. After you were done plating, you called out to him, "Rook! Dinner's ready."

It had been four and a half months already since Rook came to town. His job being a secret for whatever reason, you were the one carrying groceries for him from town with the money he gave you. You'd often think that he was stacked, not even worrying about ordering the pricier things in town in favour of making delicious dinner together for the both of you.

The fact that you had a mission to carry his groceries to his place meant you were over weekly. And the fact that you were dying to know more about the man who suddenly appeared in town without a soul knowing about him meant you were over everyday. He liked it, he said. He was never the one to turn down having a partner during leisure, you weren't there anyway when he was out on his job. "It's most magnifique to have the company of a beautiful woman at the end of the day," were his exact words.

While you had originally smacked him on the shoulder for saying that, it was his sweetly-spoken poetic words that attracted you more towards him. It brought you closer, in a sense. Just the way he spoke, the way he looked, the way he carried himself– it was so attractive. Le chasseur d'amour, he liked to call himself, was much of a prey of love himself, too. Well, not to others, who couldn't overlook the fact that he was mostly composed of bizarre personality traits rather than normal ones.

But to you? He was a dream. Why? Because he truly had been a dream, or rather- a medium of your fantasies and thoughts for so long.

You stared at him as he sat down in front of you. Observing that sickeningly sweet, smiling face of his. He looked better with his hair tied back, that's for sure. He said a dear friend of his once stated that bob cuts were high fashion. You had to suck it up that Rook heeded his friend's words over the fact that he would look much better with longer hair. Even better with your fingers laced through them, but that's a conversation left for some other day.

"Your face always looks like it has something missing," you say to him, laughing at the same observation you have made over and over again.

His eyes move up to yours and crinkle in curious delight, "Oh lá lá, you're going to have to explain yourself after saying something like that."

"I don't know," you sighed blissfully, still observing his face as he looked back at you, cutlery in hand. You put your own fork down to lean your face against your hand in thought. You always tried to figure out just what was missing, yet it seemed as though you couldn't. His radiance was too bright, almost enough to pierce your eyes and blind you of the dangers of a stranger. "I suppose it's like a puzzle that has been solved and while the image is complete, it seems as though an entirely different photo would suit the theme better."

"You're suggesting I should get a completely different face?" he asks, chuckling in amusement.

"No! But… you're always either smiling or curious… I was thinking another type of expression would suit you better. Make you look less… incomplete."

"And what do you think that expression would be?"

You struggle to answer that, scratching your head, "That's the thing. I can't figure it out."

The blonde smiled at you, knowingly but you didn't understand what he knew, and if he did, the young man probably wouldn't tell you now if he didn't tell you already. Talking extensively about something else when asked a question about something he didn't want to answer, that was the nature of the man.

"You might not have much time to figure that out, Trickster," he says suddenly after a pause, his usual cheerful tone sullen with a hint of disappointment.

Your eyes widen in surprise. The random thoughts about him in your brain came to a halt as you stared at him. Your heart starts beating faster, already expecting the inevitable though you had never kept that in consideration. But you still had a smile on your face, pretending you weren't too affected by the notion, "Ah, you're leaving soon, huh?"

"Not that soon, fortunately. But, I will indeed be leaving in two months. My work here is almost finished. After that, I will enjoy two weeks here and then leave."

"You gotta give me your phone number then, so I can contact you later," you cheerfully request, though your teeth gritted in dismay.

It had been only near to four and a half with him, yet you had become attached to him. It was inevitable in a sense. He was handsome, very charming. Momentarily creepy and odd? Sure. But, he was the most soulful person you had ever seen. He was loving and caring. It scared you sometimes, he could love gently, praising you with flowery words. But then, he could be lovingly vicious too, expressing his dismay when he had to replace the eye of an animal for painted glass to finish his perfect taxidermy.

An unfamiliar feeling bloomed in your heart that you were scared to admit as you hadn't felt it before. It happened so fast that the control you held over your own heart slipped right out of your grip. You looked at him with eyes filled with hope, praying he would consider your request.

The man shut up at the suggestion. Looking at his plate with a neutral, focused expression. It's the first time you saw him looking like that, except when he was gutting a recent hunt. He tapped his fork against the plate quietly, a relaxing and rhythmic tune playing out. You called out to him again, "Rook?"

"I'm afraid that would be futile," he states plainly, before explaining further, "I change my phone number a lot due to my job."

You were opening your mouth to say something but you stopped. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. At last you just kept your mouth shut, thinking you probably looked like a beached fish. You thought about what to say as you reached your chest, clutching on to it. Breathing heavily, you tried calming yourself down but your shoulders felt a weight on them suddenly. A weight they couldn't carry. You looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears that you didn't realize were there, "Do you have to leave?"

"Oui, I have obligations to fulfill."

You observed him silently. You couldn't hold back your tears as they were streaming down your face already. Your face contoured in a way you thought would disgust him. But rather, he put his cutlery down and pushed his plate aside to reach out and wipe your tears away, looking saddened himself, "Non non, don't cry for me, Trickster..."

He stayed silent before leaning in even closer with his whole body. His face close to yours, he whispered, "I'll miss you, too."

You looked at him in shock as he tipped your head upwards, pressing his lips against yours softly. It was a sincere kiss. But with your skill, or lack thereof, you could only kiss back clumsily. But, it felt right. It was your first kiss but you treated it like it was your last. Closing your eyes, tears still slipped down your now reddened face. It felt so good, so right. You lifted your hands to cradle his face affectionately, desperately.

Your first kiss at 19 was taken away by a 25 year old man. And it felt amazing.

After a few minutes of experiencing what felt like a slice of heaven, you came back to reality when he pulled back, smiling, "I'll come back some day, that's a promise."

It seemed the promise upset you further. Promises were just spoken words after all, giving hope but no guarantee that they would be fulfilled. Weeping and whimpering hopelessly, you stood up to come beside him before wrapping him in a tight embrace. "Please don't leave," you begged.

"I'll come back sooner than you think. When you'll see me, it will feel like the time spent without me has slipped in the blink of an eye."

"But-" you tried explaining, but with how you were gasping, your words broke a few times, "I've already spent so much time without you, looking at you without you even knowing my existence. Now that I finally got to have you…"

The tall man smiled softly at your genuine pleas for him to stay. He grazed his hands along your cheeks before leaning down to kiss your forehead, hugging you more tightly. "I know a thousand kisses wouldn't suffice for how long I'll be away… maybe three years, maybe five. But, this time, it will have to suffice, mon amour."

This time, to his surprise, it was you who kissed him first. It was bold of you, considering you didn't know what you were doing. But what you did was out of pure admiration, and something deeper you were afraid to admit. Something known by the name of 'love'. But he smiled through the kiss, lowering his hands from your waist to hold your hips.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy one. The open mouthed expression of love exchanged from one person to another. You leaned back for a minute for air as he looked down at you, smiling. You wanted to say something and he caught onto that pretty quickly. He asked lovingly, "Say it, mon amour. I can sense that something is in your heart."

"More," you peeped out meekly.

"More?"

"More", you were awfully flustered, trying to look anywhere but him. That was enough for him to know what you meant when you said 'more'.

He picked you up in a bridal style to carry you to the bedroom of the cabin. He was red himself, a serene smile still plastered on his face when he laid you down on the soft bed. For once, the bed actually felt alright. Not because the bed itself was any more comfortable than before, but your focus was on something else. Someone else. He straddled you, leaning down to press soft kisses to your cheeks as he asked, "Are you sure, ma beaute?"

"Y-yeah," you said, your eyes still trained somewhere else. He took a hold of your chin and made you face him, locking eyes. He whispered, "You're gonna have to look at me if you want me to continue."

You nodded dumbly at his soft-spoken command. He smiled and patted your head like one would a pet, "Good girl."

It felt mind numbing to have him call you that. A certain electrifying sense coursed through you when he expressed his approval of you. You held onto his forearms, relishing in the sturdy muscles flexing against your palm. He pressed his thumb against your soft lips and like it was practiced, you opened your mouth. Wrapping your tongue around his finger, you lapped it up submissively.

He chuckled heartily, a sort of laugh that made you swoon. You pulled out his finger with a kiss to his hand to watch him as he started undressing you like you were a Christmas present until you were simply in your underwear. You were scared and shy as it was your first time being so bare in front of someone. But, you had to leave your suspicions aside when he leaned down to press open mouth kisses on your neck.

It felt weird… good… tingly.. So many things altogether you couldn't really say it in one word. The only thing that left your mouth was a pleasured sigh as you wrapped your arms around him. He left a trail of kisses and soft bites till he reached your tits. His calloused hand fondled one of your breasts as he kissed the other. The size difference between you both was so apparent when you saw him up close. He pressed his head against your soft chest, now using both of his hands to gingerly rub circles into your shoulders.

"It's your first time," he stated as he heard the loud thrum of your heartbeat, quite pleased with himself for having the opportunity to take your virginity.

"Is… is that an inconvenience?" you were hesitant despite hearing his cheerful tone.

"Non, non! It is a great honour actually! I will have to handle you way more specially now, would you not like that?"

You nodded and he smiled before lifting his face back up again. He quickly unclasped your bra to toy with your chest once again, pressing and pinching your nipples. You moaned in delight at his small intrusions, your ears reddening and your vision becoming slightly blurry. He noticed that, feeling proud of himself, he started to talk you through it to make the experience more enjoyable for you, "Oh Trickster, it seems you're quite receptive. Such a beautiful girl."

You nodded in gratitude, feeling even better with each passing second. Eventually his hands started lowering before he grabbed onto your hips. He gave it a playful squeeze and chuckled when you pouted from the teasing. The sweet gasps you made as he spread your legs seemed to inspire him as he pressed two fingers onto the outline of your pussy. Your slick had soaked through your panties, which you felt a little embarrassed about but you were so grateful for Rook's touches, forgetting the weight of what had gotten you here in the first place.

He took off your panties slowly, his eyes widening at the sight of your wet cunt, throbbing for his touch. And he complied, rubbing your clit slowly to simulate you. That resulted in your arching your back, the first time you had the chance to actually experience it rather than just imagining him doing it to you like you shamefully had so many times. His thumb worked its wonder on you while two of his fingers slipped inside.

You gasped at the stretch, it was slightly painful but the adrenaline helped you out, the small pain easily blending into pleasure until you were a mess in his grip. Your stomach knotted, you realized you were close. His other hand curled around your neck, yet instead of choking you, he stroked the sides of your neck affectionately. You tilted your head and he reached up to stroke your face as well. The small yet considerate action had you tearing up again, this time from happiness.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, rolling your hips against his fingers that were still pumping into you. The knot in your stomach had snapped with a groan rumbling from right from your chest. He happily let you ride your orgasm, languidly fingering you before pulling his digits out with a wet pop. He plopped back down, licking his fingers as his eyes crinkled in happiness, chirping "You taste so delightful!"

You shyly mumble out a 'thank you'. You dithered a bit, your nervous face didn't match his cheerfulness, far too shy even though you had already gone so far. "How can I return the favour?" you asked, looking at him expectantly for an answer. He raked your hair, a teasing grin present on his face, "That wouldn't be necessary. I'll take the prize myself now."

He said the last line as he grabbed onto your waist and flipped you on your stomach. You yelped, surprised, looking over your shoulder, confused on what he was doing. Suddenly the realization dawned on you, it made you feel a certain type of way. What was the word? It was just in your head yet you couldn't coherently think it out. Quite abruptly, you remembered the word. Yes, you felt elated.

Nervous but elated indeed, as you watched him unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. The print of his shaft made your eyes widen in surprise. Even with a layer covering it, it seemed so huge and thick. And your expectations came true when he finally took it out of its nearly painful restraint. It was a huge cock, thick and veiny with a red, leaking tip. Your heart thrummed so fastly against your chest that you felt like it would burst out any second. You stammered out, full of concern, "Is that… um- is that gonna fit?"

He brushed your silly concern off with a friendly snicker, "That is precisely what I had prepared you for, mon ange."

He lowered onto you from behind, his tip pressed against your wet hole and his oddly soft lips pressed against your ears. You whined at the sensation both of those created, putting a pressure in between your thighs as you rubbed it for some relief. He instructed you gently, so that you wouldn't feel scared, "Close your eyes. Relax. Breathe in slowly and then breathe out."

You followed his instructions. Closing your eyes, you breathed in. But the feeling of his tip slowly entering you from the back had your eyes reaching the back of your skull, not being able to keep it close. It was painful, really. But it felt so good as well, as if this physical connection between the two of you was meant to be. You wailed against the sheets, gripping tightly as tears watered your lash line.

He observed your reactions with a neutral expression, thinking how to help you through your pain. Though it felt so good to be buried in your heat, something he had imagined for months now. At last, the young man reached in between your legs from behind to rub your clit roughly, rolling it within his calloused fingers to stimulate you. It worked because you called out to him so loudly, gasping and heaving, he was sure it would reach the ears of anything in the vicinity.

The tears streamed down your face and so did a string of drool. The older man almost felt a bit disappointed. If there was a mirror in front of you two where he could see your fucked out face, he imagined it would be better. It didn't stop him in the slightest though, thrusting into you in gentle strokes. Your pained moans had turned into those of pleasure since a while ago. Now, you were bouncing up and down on him to meet his thrusts. You were mumbling out all sorts of obscenities, words mixing with the anomalistic sounds you were making till they were barely coherent.

One of his hands had wrapped around your hair, pulling on it lightly yet firmly, the sensation made your shudder, a pleasurably numbing feeling washing throughout your head that matched that of your lower body. It didn't help that he had picked up his pace once he realized you were enjoying it, now slamming into you with quick and sharp thrusts, accurately hitting all the right places inside of you. The knot in your stomach and the coursing passion throughout your body left you feeling breathless and vulnerable. That's when you decided to confess your feelings,"Roo- mmh, ah!- Rook.. I love you", you said, looking back at him.

He was smiling down at you, still rubbing circles on your clit, groans of ecstacy leaving his lips as he thrust into you. He leaned against your shoulder, and said those words back at you, "Me too, Trickster- haah- I love you too," he slurred through his own strings of moans. The knot on your stomach released as you came all over his cock that was still driving itself into you.

You squeezed down so hard on him, overstimulated, you were practically milking his dick of all it had when he eventually reached his own peak too. Through the process of riding out both of your orgasms, a certain air of bashfulness covered you both. He pulled out of your wet cunt, a pleasant expression on his face. Helping you to turn on your back, moving closer to you to take your face into his lap. Rook stroked your face gently, his emerald green eyes scanning through your body.

You shifted uncomfortably as you felt his spent slipping out, whining, "You came inside!"

"That I did," he said, mischievous grin on his face, "It might turn into a telltale sign that you belong to someone else, courtesy of moi. With how cutely you had expressed your feelings in between our little tryst, I'm certain you'd prefer that."

You listened to his words, half concerned yet half considering it. You rubbed your belly in thought and he chuckled at the sight, earning a pout from you. He choked out through giggles, "My apologies, my heart soared a bit too much when I thought how très bien you would look so full of life."

You both chose to engage in fluffy conversation afterwards, even though the matter of him leaving ran through both your minds. And while you didn't know how it felt for him, you could tell that it was a crushing sensation, a numbing pain that spread from your head throughout your body. Your eyes, heavy and burning, yet you decided to drown yourself in the physical pleasure he provided you, not pondering on what was certain.

Half a year had passed in the blink of an eye until it was only two weeks till Rook's eventual departure. It was monsoon already, visiting that cabin had gotten harder now like it did everywhere. But, those previous years, you visited though you had nothing except your own curiosity to look forward to. Now you had someone special. Someone special who thought you were special too, and looked for you. Balancing on the slippery layer of mud that was draped over the hillock, you continued visiting daily, deriving a certain type of relief from being able to see his face and feeling almost lonesome that you'd lose that opportunity quite soon.

You sometimes wondered what was the true meaning of power if it was all wasted on laborious farmwork and not at all useful in keeping the things that were meaningful to yourself? You weren't a mage like Rook, a lot of things available for you at the click of your fingers. Everything you did was pure hard work, yet when it came to making him stay, you were completely useless.

Rook had changed considerably too, not in a way you minded, you'd suppose. He'd sometimes stare at you, a blank expression on his face when he did. When asked about it, he'd say with that loud guffaw of his, "I was simply enthralled by your beaute, Trickster!"

When he was not silent observing you, he had also become more physically affectionate. Hugging and kissing you more and more gradually. It was hard to explain to the pharmacist, who you knew, why you needed so many packs of condoms, but you concluded that it was just a dare. You had barely escaped a pregnancy spent solitarily once and you wouldn't risk it again.

But that aside, something was certainly wrong. His gaze on you never held even a single ounce of malice yet it often felt sickening. Oddly sickening yet lovingly so. You didn't know what caused you to feel this way and you mostly didn't notice, the feeling only creeping up on you every once in a while. Mostly, you were too engaged with your small blooming romance and saddened with how it'd come to a pause as soon as it got the chance to properly flourish. But, the peculiar changes in his behaviour still peeked through from beyond all your concerns, woes and small pieces of delight.

There were also changes in his behaviour regarding hunting. Previously, he was very interested in doing taxidermy and placing the heads of his latest hunts in the form of a pristinely preserved show-piece. Yet, one mount in the living room remained empty for far too long than what was unusual of him before he started on a new project and when asked about it, Rook would often make the same face as he did when he was silently observing you.

You were packing his suitcase despite his protests, sitting on the floor when you caught him staring at you once again, still shirtless. Your eyes scanned over his toned, muscled torso to his hard and hard chest, observing his attractively muscled arms as you went before stopping at his face. You chuckled sheepishly, "What is it this time?"

It seemed as though your voice had broken his line of thoughts, he looked at you with more focus, answering without his usual cheery face, "Just thinking how long I have to spend without you."

His sombre tone made you stop in your tracks, leaning against the wide open edge of the suitcase thoughtfully, you wondered what to say back, finally asking a question he had never answered before, "What do you even do?"

He took a deep breath in and then sighed. Laughing momentarily, clearly out of awkwardness till the dull expression once again returned on his face. 'Those eyes don't belong to someone like him', you caught yourself regretting ever asking him, as private as he was, but thought it was important for you to know. He stood up to approach you, sitting beside you as he stated, sounding deflated, "Well, my profession is that of a spy. A family trade, in a sense."

You hugged your knees as you looked at him, not being able to believe him yet at the same time believing him full on. It was hard to think what you could ask to keep the conversation going when all you wanted to do was stare at him. Maybe yell at him for keeping this a secret from you. At last, you decided to ask gently, "What were you doing in this town?"

"I was sent here to investigate whether a certain cartel from the Shaftlands operated here or not. There were several reports made which led me to take my time with this investigation but fortunately this town is safe," he ranted straight before hesitating, his breath hitched as he continued, "I already have jobs lined up, one longer than the last. In my teenage years, it was rare I saw my whole family together and now I barely remember the last time I had seen them, without a doubt it has been over two years."

You watched him as he spoke, hands snaking around his, leaning in and brushing against the side of his hand. You whispered, knowing he would still hear it clearly, having the acute sense of a true predator of the jungle, "I wish I could stay with you forever."

"I was thinking of a way for that as well. For a while now actually" he said, his voice sounding dead for a second, dropped to a low pitch you had never heard before, never once malicious but rather hurt, and confused, but determined.

At that time, you were overjoyed. Ignoring his tone as it turned all flowery in the matter of a second. You started to straight up expect a marriage proposal. That never came but the monsoon surely did in its full glory. The rain strong enough to wash away any footprints and any DNA.

The sky was grey though it was barely afternoon. It had been raining once again, with an addition of thunders striking this time. You know you shouldn't be walking through the forest at a time like this where lightning could strike anywhere near you, but you didn't care. You watched the cabin, visible from afar. The rain had absorbed the mist that usually surrounded the cabin. You were soaking wet, something that Rook would inevitably complain about as soon as he saw you.

You climbed up the stairs before you were standing in front of the oh-so-familiar wooden door. You contemplated knocking but decided what use it would be, Rook was leaving in a few hours anyways, he probably wouldn't need the privacy that knocking provides. Thinking that, you twisted the knob of the door, the creak that the door made incoherent through the sound of the heavy rain. As soon as you walked in, you saw Rook, sitting on the sofa, cleaning his arrows.

"You didn't do that before?" you asked, curious because he tended to be the more immaculate one in between you two.

"Ah, bonjour, Trickster", he said, a content expression on his face. "I had not, no. But, I might come across a situation where I need them."

You nodded in approval before going down to sit beside him, you leaned on his shoulder and he let you, "I can't believe you're leaving."

"Believe my words, neither can I," he stopped speaking, a bit more quiet than usual and his eyes still trained on his gears as he continued cleaning his equipment. That earned him a light smack on his shoulder as you whined, "Why are you being like this?"

"Whatever do you mean, mon Cheri?"

"So… quiet? You don't seem distant, but you're acting weird."

For the first time today, he looked at you. His eyes held a type of look you'd never seen on him. A bit fanatic, but the rest of his face looked peaceful. It disturbed you at first, not knowing where it came from. He was acting odd for the past couple of weeks, but you think much of it. Now, you wondered if he was hurt from having to leave you alone for such a long time. He hadn't even uttered a word about the fact that you were drenched. But he had obviously noticed it, from the way he looked you up and down.

Rook stood up out of sudden with bow and arrow still in hand, to lock the door of the cabin. He put the keys in his pockets. It was a sign that the cabin wouldn't be opened anytime soon, it was hard to convince the green-eyed man otherwise when he was set on something. You observed him as he moved in front of you.

Often, you could guess what he was doing. But this time, you were confused on why he was doing it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

Rook often wondered what was the truest form of beauty. He thought beauty could save the world. It was beauty, after all, that created acceptance. Beauty, that sparked curiosity. Beauty, that made the crime even more ugly. Beauty, that lifted the souls of people. So, he seeked out beauty. In his highschool life, he ran around beauties that piqued his curiosity. Vil, Leona… they were right at arm's distance for him.

Before meeting you, he had slept with many girls, in awe of their stunning countenance, but he never knew the beauty of holding love and dedication towards just one person. But, his first love, oh, it affected him deeply. He thought such a beauty could save him, save his soul from the misery of his job that led him to always leaving everything behind to be on duty, a part of him he tried keeping a secret almost completely because of his dislike towards his profession.

Woefully, the end of this love was decided much before it had even started. Much before he picked up that sweet floral smell in his cabin the moment he returned, realizing that a woman would visit his temporary residence. Long before he realized that the said woman also gave this cottage a hint of life, something it desperately needed. Long before he saw you.

He fell in love with you because despite your hesitations at the beginning, you let him in. All his life, he was never accepted for how he was. Called weird, creepy and a stalker. He accepted that he was all of those, quite happily even. A hunter by heart who could easily become a monster the second his thoughts ran astray. It felt nice though, you were a completely different person yet you loved him.

A child who had grown up looking at the trajectory of people's lives as if they were a beautifully framed picture– he knew himself, but it felt like he only knew a shell that was created upon repetitive patterns and not because he truly knew himself, too concerned about everybody else to have a moment of soul searching.

When he found you, he finally felt like the people behind the glass frame. Observed not to be scrutinised, but to be admired.

So, true to his nature, he decided to be selfish, keep you to himself forever. In what form could that be, precisely, was what he had been figuring out for a while now.

His arms neatly folded behind his back as he gave you an eerily lovesick look. You were scared, already shaking like a leaf. It truly felt like you were just about to be crumpled. It felt like you were an innocent person falsely accused and waiting on a death row with a lunatic of an executioner. You had an idea on what he wanted, his eyes green and with a nauseating lack of soulful reflectiveness that it usually held when talking to you.

You hesitated, thinking you could be wrong, "R-Rook…? What are you planning to do?"

"You know, (Name)" his grin widened.

"Can I ask why?"

"It only makes sense. I can't love you throughout your whole life. So why don't I love you on your last day and then I can love you beyond your death?"

"Are you... serious?"

"Very much so, yes," he nodded, seriously.

You stood up, horrified, but you couldn't take another step further. Your orbs kept observing him. Sweat clung to you uncomfortably as you looked at him, your face red and your breaths hitching. Insanely enough, you were half considering his words. A part of you wanted to sit down and meet your end. Never having felt loved before or loving anyone before, you were obsessed with the crushing grip Rook had you in.

That moment, you realized you had seen insanity in not only him but yourself. Because the part of you that wanted to make a run for it, the part of you that wanted to curse Rook and escape from the cause of your demise– that strong desire to survive, it lost. You let out a soft breath as you sat back down on the sofa again. Collecting yourself as Rook continued watching you. He complimented you, "My! What a darling you are. I understand this is an absurd ask."

"It's okay." you closed your eyes, leaning back till you felt the plush of the sofa. A peaceful smile was splayed in your eyes, "I love you, Rook."

"I wonder if I'm making the right decision," he spoke to himself as he lifted his bow up, an arrow pointing towards you, an easy target compared to others as compliant as you were. Before your last moments, your eyes cracked open to look at him one last time. His eyes held something you couldn't explain as he said, "I love you too, mon Trickster."

'Ah, his face looks complete now.'

"Urkh… anytime now," you choked out blood, spluttering it before the liquid went down in a smooth flow.

Rook had wrapped you in a tight hug, head against your chest, listening to your progressively slowing heartbeat. Your blood dripped down and reddened his blonde strands. He noticed that and giggled. "You're not scared?" he asked, childishly curious.

"I was, not anymore- now that you're with me," you spoke through the flurry of blood and saliva that came out of your mouth, your voice hoarse "That- that was mean though."

You were talking about the arrow that had gone through your neck, not completely destroying your ability to speak and not touching any vital nerves. No doubt, a calculated move from his part. At this point though, you'd die of blood loss. The pain was so unbearable at first, stains of tears down your face was the proof. Now it had settled into a dull throbbing. It flared up whenever you spoke but you didn't want to stop engaging with him, these being your last chances to do so.

He looked up at your face from where he was and smiled at the sight of your slightly swollen face. It was paler and bluer than your usual skin tone. Your eyes were unfocused, though it was clear they were trying to look at him. Your lips were stained red as blood and saliva dripped out from in between them. The wound in your neck smelled of a strong cooper. He had smelt this scent many times before but none of them were as alluring as the scent of your blood.

He licked a slow strip on your neck and you groaned in pain. The salty taste of blood spread through his tongue and he savoured the flavour like it was a rare delicacy, and in a sense it was.

By the time he lifted his head up to look at you to give a sheepish apology, he saw that your eyes had closed already. You had retired yourself to eternal slumber and that's when he realized–

He loves the sight of your dead face, for it meant it was only for him to see.

~♡~

Sometimes, he thanked himself for learning magic.

He had delicately removed the skin from your body and buried you, save your head, by the cabin with a tablet at your grave, digging your name in as 'Mrs. (Name) Hunt'. Your skin was dried through the use of magic as the sun had yet to peek out from in between the stubborn clouds.

He observed your brains, your tongue, your eyes. He had severed them to put preservative chemicals on them. They needed more than just normal muscles, being quick to rot. A thick layer applied so meticulously from how many times he had done it before. He spread the same substance in the inner parts of your head before drying them all with magic. There was a sheen on your face, looking like it had just been neatly varnished.

He felt it would be disrespectful to remove you of your internal organs and just stuff you with wool. Most obviously, wool and glass couldn't replace the softness of your supple skin and the beauty of your charming eyes. As such, difficult as it may be, he did his best to preserve you with all you had. He wondered what to do with the skin he had stripped you off throughout your whole body. Tapping his fingers against his chin, at last, he decides to make accessories out of them.

Your head was placed upon that empty mount. That same mount which left you wondering why it was left empty, even though every other mount had a head on them. Your visage on it looked pretty. Eyes closed, peaceful, so kind that even after death it seemed full of love and life. Your lips felt soft when he touched them with his thumb. He thought it was amazing! He would be able to preserve your beauty in object and in his heart for forever.

So far, he knew no pleasure greater than successfully securing a hunt. This time he learned the pleasure of securing a love in the most hedonistic, animalistic and sadistic way. Straying from the feeling of love and settling admiration into obsession.

Though he had started straying way before you noticed the blank stare in his eyes.

_______________________________________

Don't steal my work alright!? :(

Though taking inspiration is always welcome <33

Be sure to like, comment and reblog if you like this fic, it'll definitely help in my goals of becoming popular (@sakka-kyuu I am showing you my bebeh)

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #rook hunt #pomefiore #tw.age gap #tw. gore #tw. murder #rook hunt x reader

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lafemmemacabre · 2 months

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My personal top albums of all time

If anyone who respects my music opinions is interested, IN NO ORDER because I can't choose between my babies. Also, warning, it's mostly gonna be albums from the 90s. Only the albums that are described as Gothic Rock, Darkwave (Neoclassical or not), Deathrock and Ethereal Wave are goth, the rest are some other flavor of dark alternative.

Aégis, by Theatre of Tragedy (1998)

Exquisite Gothic Rock, despite the band usually playing Metal, with themes of mostly Greco-Roman mythology with some other European folklore thrown in. The most angelic and soft soprano vocals delivered by Liv Kristine with baritone whispers delivered by Raymond. Ethereal yet complex atmospheres with soft guitars, strong bass, poetic lyrics in Shakespearean English.

Highlights: Cassandra, Venus, Poppæa, Bacchante.

Inferno, by Lacrimosa (1995)

Gothic Rock that flirts slightly with Metal in some tracks. This is when they made the jump from Neue Deutsche Todeskunst (basically late 80s/early 90s German Darkwave except it's a little weirder than most other Darkwave at the time) to more Rock-based styles of music, as well as the first album Anne Nurmi was featured in. Tilo's best studio vocal performance in my opinion. Beautiful lyrics about love, passion, devotion, and the end of the world, could only be written by a goth guy with a gift for poetry who just fell in deep love. Only iffy track is Copycat but even that one is still a classic among fans if only because of its high energy, and killer guitars, bass and percussion.

Highlights: Schakal, Vermächtnis der Sonne, No blind eyes can see, Kabinett der Sinne.

Passion's Price, by Diva Destruction (1999)

Diva Destruction's debut, from back when Darkwave was actually dark and dreary in sound. Songs about heartbreak, betrayal, abuse and love, in the band's most musically complex and hauntingly atmospheric album. A definite classic with nothing but great track after great track.

Highlights: The Broken Ones, Snake, Prey, Glare.

Selected Scenes from the End of the World, by London After Midnight (1992)

Some of the best Gothic Rock to have ever come out, in my opinion. Deep, rich, dark, mysterious, sensual, macabre, romantic (arguably too romantic even by 90s goth standards as the album apparently got criticized for being almost entirely love songs? Wtf). The song that introduced me to goth in February of 2007 is in this album and it's the reason why I never looked back.

Highlights: The Black Cat, Claire's Horrors, Sacrifice, Spider and the Fly.

Annwyn, beneath the Waves, by Faith and the Muse (1996)

Ethereal Wave royalty in maybe not their most iconic album, but definitely the one closest to my heart by them. Despite goth music being associated with darkness in the minds of most, this album is full of glittering light in the most poetic and heartfelt way possible. The vocals are soft and tender when they need to be, delivered by Monica Richards, or firm and epic when needed, as delivered by William Faith. The lyrical themes are full of Celtic folklore, love, hope, magic and a feeling of reclamation of nature and an ancestral past (but not in like, a white supremacist way, I promise).

Highlights: Annwyn, beneath the Waves, The Hand of Man, The Silver Circle, Rise and Forget.

Treasure, by Cocteau Twins (1984)

Walking a thin line between Ethereal Wave and Dreampop (as they're pioneers in both genres). Some tracks are darker than others, but they're all equally delightful, full of beauty and a dreamy gaze hovers over every single song, all of which contain some of the most heavenly vocals in the scene. One of Robert Smith's favorite albums (he also really like Diva Destruction's debut!). If you're into more relaxing and atmospheric music, this might be your intro to goth.

Highlights: Beatrix, Persephone, Pandora (for Cindy), Lorelei.

Anthology, by Nosferatu (2006)

Legendary Gothic Rock band among those of us who enjoy a campier vampiric goth sound that takes itself too seriously, and deliciously so. Yes, I know I'm cheating by going with a compilation album, sue me. It's simply a collection of their best tracks and I honestly couldn't choose between all their actual albums, so there!

Highlights: Inside the Devil, Lucy is Red, Rise, Witching Hour.

Es reiten die Toten so schnell (or: The Vampyre Sucking at his Own Vein), by Sopor Aeternus & The Ensemble of Shadows (2003)

Probably the gothiest and most elite Neoclassical Darkwave out there. Deeply macabre, equally horrific and beautifully crafted, with expressive and dramatic vocals, themes of vampirism and death masking more human subjects such as social rejection (Anna Varney-Cantondea is a trans woman/transfeminine person who's battled suicidality and depression from a very young age), depression, gay/trans desire, and suicidality. It truly is a masterpiece of macabre and neoclassical goth.

Highlights: The Feast of Blood, Holy Water Moonlight, Baptisma, Dead Souls.

Blood Death Ivory, by Angelspit (2008)

Probably one of the few modern Industrial bands who have thoroughly kept the spirit of early Industrial alive, fashioned after greats such as Skinny Puppy and Die Form, especially in the 00s when the Industrial scene heavily turned to more superficial lyrics based on the aesthetics of cyberpunk art rather than its subversive content. The music is aggressive, simultaneously animalistic yet robotic with a touch of demonic, rarely ever without smartly phrased critiques of capitalism and consummerism. At this point in time the band was a duo between Amelia Arsenic/Destroyx and Zoog Von Rock. It's definitely some edgelord shit (affectionate), but by no means in a vapid, only-for-shock-value way.

Highlights: Skinny Little Bitch, Lust Worthy, Devilicious, Jugular.

Alles für dich, by Grausame Töchter (2012)

Some of the most dynamic, deliciously quirky, sexual, hyper and twisted Dark Electro bands currently making music. The lead vocalist and lyricist of the band, Aranea Peel, is a lesbian dominatrix, fetish model, trained ballet dancer, and lover of Weimar republic era artistry who absolutely imprints lots of dark flapper energy into the band's music and imagery. The lyrics are unabashedly perverted, kinky, sapphic and fucked up. Her singing is nothing short of chef's kiss worthy, always expressive and strange, but with pristine execution and technique.

Highlights: Tanz für dich, TABU, Therapie für dich, ICH DARF DAS!

The Astonishing Eyes of Evening, by Cinema Strange (2002)

KINGS of 00s Deathrock with touches of Dark Cabaret influences, as inescapable in the goth scene in the 00s as She Past Away and its many copycats are now, and for very good reason. Delightfully macabre, not the first to use ghostly androgynous vocals but certainly one of the bands who better utilize that style of vocals. Imo, this and their homonymous album are must-listens for people interested in the goth music scene in general, but especially those interested in Deathrock. Truly Halloween turned into an album.

Highlights: Tomb Lilies, Catacomb Kittens, 'Ere the Flowers Unfold, Legs and Tarpaulin.

Opheliac, by Emilie Autumn (2006)

Literally music for mentally unstable sapphic girls with a poet's soul and flare for both irony and intense earnest feeling. It's a very original combination of Synthpop, Punk Cabaret, and Neoclassical music, with influences of Industrial and Darkwave. It's all masterfully crafted by classically trained violinist, poet, writer, actress, and somewhat of a burlesque performer with a rich alto voice; Emilie Autumn. She wrote this album after suffering medical abuse at a mental hospital after a suicide attempt brought on by an abortion and emotionally abusive relationship. I'm not exaggerating when I say this album saved my life and also changed me as a person.

Highlights: Opheliac, Liar, The Art of Suicide, 306.

Of the Want Infinite, by Requiem in White (1995)

You don't often hear of bands combining Deathrock and Ethereal Wave as they're often perceived as the polar opposite ends of the spectrum of goth music; Deathrock being the goth subgenre closest in sound and idiosyncrasy to punk, and Ethereal Wave being one of the goth subgenres furthest from goth's punk roots. Add in an operatic soprano and you get... Some of THE best, most underrated goth bands of the 90s. Dramatic, ethereal, creepy, elegant, ghostly and complex, with incredible vocals. Truly a pity they only released one album and a couple of EPs.

Highlights: Everlasting Peace, Beneath the Leaves, My Shame, Acanthus.

Agony of the Undead Vampire Part II, by Two Witches (1992)

Truly another giant of vampiric Gothic Rock, absolute 90s legends and Finland's most iconic goth band. Themes of vampirism, occasionally anti-Christianity, sex, sensuality and kink abound. The vocals might put some people off, but it's definitely worth it.

Highlights: The Hungry Eyes, The Omen, Mircalla, We All Fall Down.

Mors Syphilitica, by Mors Syphilitica (1996)

Requiem in White may have disbanded after their first proper album, but two out of its three core band members, then spouses Lisa and Doc Hammer, went on to form pure Ethereal Wave act Mors Syphilitica right after and while it's generally less dark and spooky than its predecesor band, they're still a delight to the ears.

Highlights: The Woman Who Believed, Fell a Dance, The Vain Stroke, Below the Baleful Star.

Beyond the Veil, by Tristania (1999)

I've raved about this album so many times. Just... THE definitive Gothic Metal album to me. The lyrics, the choir of sopranos (aka all Vibeke Stene and her rich, sensual, dark, gorgeous voice), the perfect growling, the somber baritone vocals, the perfectly crafted guitar riffs (no guitar salad, all expressive and precisely timed), the exciting epic percussion, the piano, the violin solos, THE SYMPHONICS. Oh, my God. There's not one second wasted in the entire album, and I'm not being hyperbolic, I mean that. Truly the perfect Gothic Metal album.

Highlights: Beyond the Veil, Angina, Heretique, Opus Relinque.

Serpentine Gallery, by Switchblade Symphony (1995)

Tbh all of Switchblade Symphony's discography is fantastic, but their debut truly is a masterpiece. Creepy ragdoll vibes all over, great vocals, rich composition, poetic yet accessible lyrics. If you're into a more kindergoth vibe (Wednesday Addams, creepy dolls, child-like or even lolita-esque looks), this might be the band for you.

Highlights: Clown, Mine Eyes, Dollhouse, Bad Trash.

Vampyre Erotica, by Inkubus Sukkubus (1997)

The other band that introduced me to goth in 2007 and got me to never look back. Though the first song by them I ever listened to, Samhain, isn't from this album, this album is the one that truly got me hooked for life. Vampiric, sensual, decadent and dark. It has everything including really sweet vocals.

Highlights: Vampyre Erotica, Danse Vampyr, Hell-Fire, Heart of Lilith.

Link to a YouTube Playlist containing all the songs from all the albums above.

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nytb · 1 year

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White Never Suited You

Click Here first <3

Nostalgia was never this sour. Y/N's arrival in Germany came at a cost - her short lived love story left behind in Ibiza - everything was bound to change.

The cold breeze that gazed Y/N's skin, the empty apartment she once shared with Laura, all the memories started to kick in. This time, the memories tasted sour; feelings of sadness and anger burning deep in her stomach. The heartache shifted - it was no longer just about Barcelona.

Behind the scenes, preseason hit the Catalonian hard. Her physical state was out of this world, but her focus - nonexistent.

The lack of commitment Y/N showed wasn't well perceived by the German club, they had put their ass on the line for her; now she had to deliver.

Doubting Y/N's professionalism backfired quickly - the Germans lifted their first trophy after beating Arsenal in their preseason tournament. A victory that was taken as a symbol of how Eintracht Frankfurt, they were ready to compete for big things; European trophies.

What they failed to see? Her quick trips to the land of the sun - Y/N took every opportunity to see her Catalan love.

For the most part, said trips didn't affect Y/N's performances. Eintracht Frankfurt was second in the German league, top of their group in the Champions league. The best part? Y/N was the top goalscorer in both competitions and her best friend - Laura Freigang - followed suit, topping the assists she delivered game after game.

Y/N was ruling the world - in an Eintracht Frankfurt shirt - something that a while back was implausible.

Quickly enough, cracks started to show as the Catalonians relationship created its own foundation - it soon crumbled. The fear of commitment hidden in Alexia's eyes; who would have thought that such heartbreak would follow.

The daily FaceTime calls became weekly check ins. Their night time rituals were nonexistent. The constant holiday planning out the window. Having a tight schedule might have been a good excuse - but not for Y/N - the Catalan star was adamant in keeping her relationship, their break up was inconceivable.

Missing Alexia lead Y/N to Barcelona; an impromptu trip, an unannounced one.

Showing up to the Ciutat Deportiva an hour after training ended, Alexia was surely still there - the woman always put an extra shift in.

Seeing her practice free kicks, going on solo runs towards goal, Alexia was in her element. The sparkle in her eyes, Y/N was smitten once again.

"Didn't see you there" Alexia approached her lover "Gimmie 10, I'll get cleaned up" Little did she remember, Y/N loved Alexia in all states, sweat included. Quietly, she made her way into the locker room, following Alexia, making sure nobody else was on site.

The sight of her body, all the curves shining, her hair wet and loose. Y/N was turned on - who wouldn't be - drenching herself in water, Alexia's shower no longer mattered. Now, it was just them, standing together, holding each other.

Magical moments followed, even Alexia's fear of commitment wasn't enough to stop her - the love they felt for each other was undeniable.

A connection people would die for. A relationship that was soft and rough at the same time. Calm with it's own storms. Caring and forgiving. A relationship people dreamed of.

Interrupting the fun - Patri walked in before Y/N's hunger for Alexia could be soothed. "Sorry Sorry" the midfielder excused herself "Wait, Y/N?" now she was confused.

Y/N's old teammates knew that Alexia had something going on, but they were sure that this Catalan love story had ended back in Ibiza. They might have been inseparable during their holiday, but Alexia was never a fan of long distance relationships and everyone knew that.

Not wanting to put salt in the wound, they stopped talking to Y/N - Imagine your exes friends reaching out 24/7, not fun huh? - so they didn't. They kept their distance, watching from afar. They imagined that Y/N's heart would be torn to pieces, but that moment - it was unexplainable.

"Who else would it be?" Y/N laughed, oblivious of the situation. Behind her, Alexia looked at Patri with pleading eyes, hoping that her teammate wouldn't blab, wouldn't sell her out - and a loyal soldier she stayed, betraying Y/N in the process - laughing at Y/N's question, diffusing the situation.

Not thinking much of it, their evening plans continued. A romantic dinner in Y/N's favorite restaurant. Luckily for Alexia, she hadn't stepped foot in that place with her new side piece.

Talking of a possible future, Y/N filled Alexia in; Fc Barcelona were moving to sign her once the season ended. The lack of a clinical winger showed and Y/N was the perfect fit.

Not sure of Alexia's feelings on the matter, Y/N inquired "I don't get it? Aren't you happy that I might be back soon?" a possibility that months ago, Alexia would have died to hear, but now: it sounded like a nightmare.

"I am, I..I didn't expect it" she answered, showing uncertainty, she still tried to hide it "I guess white never suited you" she laughed it off.

Playing the whole thing down, dinner went as planned. Making out in the uber on their way to Alexia's place, time hadn't stopped for them.

Alexia had ran to the bathroom to freshen up, but Y/N; she made her way to the bedroom and what she saw was unforgivable.

Alexia's side piece laying there, wearing lingerie, posing with rose petals around her. It was Y/N's nightmare. A woman she once described as the love of her life - betraying her - in the worse way possible.

In the other room, Alexia wasn't aware of the situation, a surprise for both parties; a parting gift from Patri. She was the only one that knew of Alexia's side piece surprise, yet she kept it secret. Betraying Y/N had a limit and Alexia reached it. Patri couldn't - wouldn't - allow her captains betrayal to go any further.

Running out of the apartment, quietly, Y/N made her way to Patri's apartment. She couldn't see the full picture, but surely - her friend turned sister - would be in her corner. Little did Y/N know, Patri showed no surprise when she broke the news to the midfielder.

Feeling betrayed from all angles, Y/N was out for revenge. What minutes before felt like heartache turned to anger and who better to relieve it than Mapi.

Alexia's best friend, a person that Y/N found attractive from the moment she laid eyes on her. Leon was the only person that made Alexia feel insecure when it came to the Catalonians relationship - the only person that could break them.

That night, anger won. Y/N's hunger for revenge, biting down on the defenders shoulders as Leon pleased the Catalonian to no end. Leaving scars behind that only Alexia would recognize, scars that Y/N had once left on her body.

Revenge was sweet, until the sun came up.

In Mapis bedroom, the defender didn't question her luck. She had lusted over Y/N since she met the Catalonian - who wouldn't.

Quietly putting her clothes back on, Y/N didn't realize that the defender was awake. Was it regret that she felt? Maybe.

Y/N was unreachable, whatever the defender had tried in the past had failed - and as usual - the defender was quick to put 1 and 1 together.

This unbelievable night was only revenge to Y/N. Mapi's dream was only a means to an end for the Frankfurt star; hurt Alexia in any way possible.

#woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fic #woso fanfics #woso #fc barcelona femeni woso #fc barcelona x reader #fc barcelona imagine #fc barcelona woso #fc barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #mapi leon woso #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine

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kylejsugarman · 2 years

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el camino is just so quietly devastating in so many ways. its quiet and reflective and subtle, and it contains some of the most heartbreaking and heartwarming writing in the entire gilliganverse. like on end of the spectrum you have the absolutely crushing scene where jesse pulls the gun on todd in the desert, so close to escape, and all todd has to do to get him to back down is ask him one humanizing question (”what’s your favorite pizza topping?”) and jesse, who has always been so desperate for love and now is just so desperate for humanity and basic decency, turns the gun back over. there’s no overwrought scene detailing the extent of the psychological and physical abuse he endured at the compound, just these little moments that provide a glimpse into it that are so much more horrifying and affecting. and on the other end of the spectrum you have skinny pete and badger putting themselves in danger and coming together to help jesse escape the police, these guys who are his friends but who aren’t indebted to him in any way sacrificing themselves For Him, which in my opinion is what gives jesse the strength to find ed and get a new life for himself. badger and skinny pete remind him that the world is not only full of bad people, of people who want to hurt and exploit him, and the no strings attached kindness they show him after so many months of dehumanizing torture, the sheer appreciation and genuine love (”you’re like my hero, man”) is inspiring as much as it is life-saving

#syd squeaks #I love el camino so much I could talk about it for hours all these soft quiet nuances and moments that make it perfect #breaking bad #el camino #jesse pinkman #badger #skinny pete #survivors of abuse and torture be like omg.....have y'all heard of el camino??

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blooming-violets · 1 year

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[tasm!peter x nameless she/her character]

Summary: Unrequited love, heartbreak, and fear of the unknown. Every relationship can be seen through two different sets of eyes. Peter has his own memories of his best friend, his own story to share, and his own mistakes to make. (10K words)

[The parallel fic to Dancing On My Own, please read that one first as this heavily weaves through the original story, some parts towards the end might not make complete sense without it]

Warnings: Gwen’s death is a key part of Peter’s later personality, angst, depression, losing of one’s sense of self, mild PTSD flashbacks, guilt and self hatred, familial physical and verbal abuse of a minor, descriptions of potentially disturbing rough sex scenes bordering on the line between abuse and consent at the hands of Peter, brief murderous intent of a woman during sex

[Dancing On My Own Spotify Playlist]

Second Grade: Over the Bar

There was something so enticing about the way she would throw her head back on the swings. Her hair would flow out behind her and catch in the wind. She would lean her entire body back with her legs out straight. Her eyes would close and her face would relax into a blissful serenity. She was flying. He knew that’s what she imagined inside her mind whenever she got on the swings. Flying away from everything that shackled her to the real world. Once she told him that when she got high enough, she was going to let go, and soar all the way to Norway to visit the trolls that lived there. He wasn’t sure if trolls were real or imaginary but she believed in them so that meant Peter did too. She always loved her fantasy stories and he never got tired of listening to her talk about them.

Peter was afraid of her flying off without him. He didn’t want her to leave him behind so he climbed onto the adjacent swing. He backed up and tried to match his swinging pace with hers. He longed to be right by her side as she flew but, every time, they’d fall out of sync with each other. Peter could never keep up. She was too fast. Already higher than he was.

“Do you think I can swing around the bar?” She asked him. Her eyes opened and she gave him a lopsided smile every time their swings passed each other. Her two front teeth were missing. He thought it was funny because they hadn’t even been wiggly the day before they fell out. She told him that the tooth fairy stole them straight out of her mouth in the middle of the night. He didn’t think that was very fair. He always had to be stuck with an annoying, wiggly tooth for days before it came out. Hers got to come out by magic overnight. Apparently teeth coming out by magic also made her top lip get all swollen and bruised. It looked like it might hurt but she never complained.

Peter nodded his head, admiring her toothless smile, “Of course! You can do anything.” It was true. He really believed she could do anything she wanted. He held her in such high regards. His best friend. His only friend.

“Okay! Let’s try it.”

They both pumped their legs a little harder and moved their bodies in motion with the swings to get up as high as they could. Peter could feel the flurry of nerves in his stomach the higher he got. The slack in the chain would loosen at a certain height and gravity would pull him back down again. His knuckles were white with the death grip he had on the chains, so afraid that if he let go he’d fall and hurt himself. Meanwhile, she continued to toss her head back and laugh with a wild abandon. This is where she felt the most free and this was where he fell in love.

She never made it over the bar.

Fourth Grade: The Broken Princess

It had been a week since she was in school. Peter missed her. He’d wander aimlessly around the playground at recess, kicking stones, and making up conversations in his head that he’d have with her. Sometimes he’d forget they were supposed to stay in his head and he’d find himself talking out loud to no one. The other kids would mock him whenever they caught him mouthing the words to an imaginary conversation. Nerdy Peter Parker and his girlfriend were always the butt of their jokes. They sneered at the word “girlfriend” as if that was a bad thing. He’d have to control his anger when he heard them laughing. It was okay if they were laughing at him but he hated when they made fun of her. He had promised Aunt May and Uncle Ben that he wouldn’t get into any more fights. It was becoming a hard promise to keep.

She was notorious for being absent from school but she’d never been out this long. He wondered what kind of sickness she had. She must be dying. That was the only explanation he could think of. She would die just like his parents had and he’d be all alone again. He decided that after school, he was going to go to her house to check. He’d never been inside her apartment building. She’d always come to play at his if they hung out. Uncle Ben had dropped her off at home before so Peter knew where it was. It shouldn’t be too hard to get there. He’d have to learn how to use the subway by himself eventually. This afternoon would be as good a time as any. He’d done it with Ben hundreds of times, he could figure it out on his own.

By the time school was over, Peter had already rushed through his homework and burst through his front door, tossing his bag on the ground and shouting for May.

She poked her head out of the kitchen and gave him a warm smile, “How was school?”

“I already did my homework!” He was out of breath from running all the way home. “Can I go out to play? I want to go to the skate park.” That was a lie. He didn’t like lying but sometimes it was necessary.

May gave a little shrug and nodded, “I don’t see why not. I trust that you actually finished all your homework and aren’t lying to me?”

He eagerly nodded.

She gave him a doubtful look but let it slide, “Be home by 6, that’s when your uncle gets off work. We’re having meatball subs for dinner.”

“Thank you! Love you! Bye!” He sprinted towards the front door.

“Peter!” She called after him.

He skidded to a stop and poked his head back around the corner into the kitchen, “What?”

May pointed her finger to his brand new skateboard sitting propped up against the living room couch, “Aren’t you forgetting something important for the skate park?”

His face flushed crimson, already having forgotten his cover story, “Oh ya. Can’t do much without that.”

“And bring a helmet, for heaven's sake. If I catch you riding that death trap without one, you will be in big trouble!”

Peter stood in front of her old, rundown apartment building. Her neighborhood scared him. It felt different when he was walking alone instead of sitting in the back of Uncle Ben’s car. He had kept his head down, the helmet dangling from his arm, and clutched his skateboard close to his chest. He was terrified of someone trying to steal it from him. The second he stepped out of the subway, he started to regret coming here. If Ben found out he lied to May about where he was going, Peter would be grounded for the rest of his life. Worse than that, he would have disappointed them. He never wanted to disappoint anyone.

The front door to the building was propped open with a cinder block so he didn’t have to ring her unit to get inside. There was a hole shattered through the glass that resembled too similarly to a bullet hole for his liking. Peter shivered at the thought of his friend living here. This was not the fairy tale castle she liked to pretend she lived in.

Peter quietly entered inside, his heart beating faster, like he was stepping into someplace he wasn’t allowed. The yellowed wallpaper was peeling off the walls and there were dark stains over the carpet. He didn’t want to inspect those too closely in case they were old blood stains. The air smelled thick with mildew. First floor, apartment 1F, he repeated in his head. Her wooden door was cracked with splinters. It looked like it had been painted a shade of a deep red once but was now faded and scuffed. He gave a quick knock, hoping it would be her who answered.

It took a few moments before a man opened the door. He towered over Peter, taking up most of the door frame. He had a large, hairy pot belly that stuck out from under his wife beater shirt and a scraggly brown beard peppered with grays. Peter scrunched up his nose at the smell that hit him. He smelled heavily of cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol. The scent was so strong it was making his eyes water. He was fairly certain this must be her father. He couldn’t remember if she ever told him her dad’s name.

“What do you want?” He spoke in a gruff, tired voice.

Peter straightened up and smiled at him to cover his anxious fear, “Hi, I’m Peter. Can I come in to see your daughter? I’m her best friend. She hasn’t been at school for a while so I thought I could give her some homework that she missed.” The lie fell out of his mouth without thinking. He had nothing else on him besides his skateboard and helmet. It was obvious he wasn’t carrying any extra homework with him.

Her father snorted, letting out a loud cough without covering his mouth. Specs of foul smelling spit showered down over Peter. He did his best not to flinch or grimace.

“Hell no. She knows she’s not allowed to hang out with boys. Don’t want her getting knocked up early like her momma. She don’t need no homework, anyway. She’s too dumb for that shit. What’s the point of even sendin’ her to school, ya know? Waste of damn time. Git outta ‘ere kid and don’t fucking come back.”

From under the man’s right arm, Peter saw her peek her head around the hallway to see who was at the door. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. On her arm was a large, bent, white cast that went from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was alive. She wasn’t dead. Relief flooded through his chest.

Her father must have seen his attention diverted and he glanced behind him, letting out a booming yell, making them both jump, “Get back to your room! I didn’t say you could come out! When are you goin’ to learn to fuckin’ listen, you dumb bitch?”

She ducked back into the hallway, out of sight, and the door was immediately slammed shut in Peter’s face. He stared at the cracking paint as a long breath of air exhaled through his lips. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath the entire time. Something about her dad made his palms feel clammy and his stomach feel sick. He immediately hated that man. All it took was a fifty second conversation for Peter to make up his mind. That man wasn’t anything like Uncle Ben or the vague memories of his own father. That was a bad man. No one had to tell him, he could feel it. A very bad man.

He wanted to run home and cry to his uncle. He wanted to tell him about how this man spoke to his friend. He wanted to tell him that he was hurting her. He wanted Ben to know so he could fix it.

But then he would know that Peter lied to May. He would be in trouble.

What if Uncle Ben came to this house? What if he met her father? What would her father do to him? What if he hurt him like he hurt her? What if he killed him? He didn’t want Ben to die.

His stomach ached.

She liked to make up stories about the big, bad giant that would keep the princess hostage in his tower. He would lock her up and throw away the key. Sometimes the giant would hurt the princess whenever he was angry. Peter would always play as the knight who came and rescued her. He would save the princess from any giant that wanted to take her away. This afternoon, as he stood staring at her closed door, the skateboard clutched in his hands turned into a sword. He would bash down the door, stab the giant through the heart, and steal his princess back to safety. In his mind, he was the hero who saved her. In reality, he swallowed the lump in his throat, a heavy pit settling in his stomach, and he shuffled back out the door without another word about what he witnessed.

He was starting to think that maybe her stories weren’t all make believe after all.

Sixth Grade: Star Gazing

“That’s the Big Dipper right there!” She pointed up above them.

They were sitting in his driveway on the hood of Uncle Ben's mustard colored Oldsmobile and reclining back against his bug splattered windshield. Night had fallen around them and a handful of dull stars blossomed up to speckle the navy blue sky.

“Or maybe it’s the Little Dipper. I can never remember which one is which.”

Peter didn’t think there were actually enough stars visible to be able to point out a constellation but he didn’t dare correct her. For all he knew, her vision was far superior to his. Besides, he liked to hear her talk. She doesn't talk very much these days. He missed the sound of her voice.

“The Big Dipper isn’t even the full constellation,” she went on to tell him. “It’s actually part of Ursa Major, which is a big bear.”

He noticed her interest in the stars had peeked this year. He wondered if it had anything to do with her desire to fly away. When she looked up in the night sky, did she wish to find a new home hidden amongst the stars?

Peter wanted to please her. He wanted to make her happy.

“I have an idea,” he whispered with enthusiasm, hoping she would appreciate it. “Let’s each pick a star and name it after ourselves. We can make our own constellations out of it.”

He heard her give a quick inhale. It was the most excitement she would allow herself to show but he knew it meant that she loved his idea. Pride swelled in his chest.

“I choose that one,” she pointed, without hesitation, up to a pin prick of light hovering above a tree branch. There weren’t many stars to choose from but it didn’t matter. She found the one she wanted. “That’s my star. It’s the tip of the nose to a dragon. Big and strong. She blows fire out of her mouth at anyone who tries to mess with her. She’s not afraid of anything or anyone.”

Peter had the sudden itch to reach over and hold her hand. The tip of his pinky finger brushed up next to hers, subtle enough to seem like an accident, but he knew the truth. When she didn’t pull away, he kept his hand resting there.

“I’ll pick that one,” he gestured to a random, faint star near the one she chose, with the hand not begging to be held. “It will make a castle constellation. Big enough for the dragon to come inside whenever she needs to rest. Maybe it can be her home. That way me and you can live together in the stars forever.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile.

“I like that idea.”

Seventh Grade: Cotton Candy Crushes

“Hurry up!” Peter yelled over his shoulder as she trailed behind him.

Her thirteenth birthday was supposed to be special. She was finally a teenager and leaving childhood behind. At least, that’s what Uncle Ben told him a month before on Peter’s own thirteenth birthday. It was supposed to be special because it meant they were finally growing up. He didn’t feel very grown up but he liked to pretend. Part of pretending to be a responsible teenager was planning her entire party for her. He knew if he didn’t do it then she wouldn’t get one. Both his aunt and uncle were in attendance as he led the three stragglers down the pier straight towards Coney Island. It was a small group to celebrate but he knew she wouldn’t want anyone else beside them there. His family was her family and everyone wanted to celebrate her. They didn’t have any other friends anyway.

“We’re coming, Peter! Not everyone has the same amount of energy as you. Some of us are getting old,” Ben chuckled, his arm wrapped around May’s shoulders, as they brought up the rear.

Peter slowed his pace only long enough to allow her to catch up and then kept in stride beside her. She had a growth spurt earlier this year. Now she was about a head taller than he was. It made him nervous because he was afraid she wouldn’t like him anymore if he stayed short. Despite his aunt’s assurance that girls often started puberty faster than boys, he was certain he was destined to stay at this height forever.

He also took notice that she started growing in other places. He tried his best not to stare at her chest when they were together but sometimes he couldn’t help it. It was like he would go into a trance and not be able to pull his eyes away. Even with a face full of acne, she was the most beautiful girl he ever saw.

She glanced down at him and stuffed her hands deeper into her sweatshirt sleeves. Her shoulders hunched in embarrassment.

“What? Is there something on my face?” She quickly rubbed her hand over her mouth as if she was worried she missed some leftover tooth paste.

Peter’s ears turned red, “No! You look great! I mean…you look fine…not fine but you look…normal…like you normally do…which is good…”

She grabbed her hood and flopped it over her head, pulling the strings tight to encase her face, clearly embarrassed, “Stop looking at me then. I didn’t say you could look at me.”

He immediately turned his eyes straight ahead, “Sorry. I wasn’t looking. Well, I was, but I don’t know why.” He quickly changed the subject, dragging Ben into the awkward conversation as an attempt to save himself from drowning any further. “Are you going to go on any rides, Uncle Ben?”

He smiled, “I think I might convince your aunt to get on the carousel with me. We can pretend we’re kids again.”

May shook her head, “I don’t know about that. I don’t think I can spin like I used to.”

“It goes so slow though. You’ll be fine,” Peter chimed in. As he spoke, he kept his friend locked in the side of his gaze. Her shoulders had relaxed once more and the sides of her lips twitched into a tiny smile. He let out a soft sigh of relief for navigating them out of whatever weird, uncomfortable banter they had fallen to. He felt like that was happening a lot more lately.

“Let’s go on the swings first!” It was the real reason he wanted to bring her here. Her childhood days of losing herself on the swingset were behind them but he knew she would appreciate that feeling of flying once more. He had this vision of her tilting her head back, hair flying in the gust of the wind behind her, as she closed her eyes and let her mind fly free. Peter wanted to give her every bit of comfort he could, especially today. It was her birthday and she deserved to get lost in it.

Swings, carousels, tilt-a-whirl, wooden coasters, overpriced carnival games, junk food, and many laughs.

His heart even nearly gave out when she reached for his hand during the drop of the coaster. Her palms were sweaty and she fit so nicely locked in his grasp. He wanted to protect her. Wrap an arm around her. Keep her forever. Tell her how much he adored her. He held on tightly to her hand until she took notice and quickly pulled back, placing them on the bar instead.

Now, as they sat with their shoes off and feet buried in the sand next to the pier, watching the sunset, Peter passed her his stick of pink, fluffy cotton candy. She plucked off a piece and stuffed it in her mouth, giggling at how it stuck to her lips.

He loved her. He didn’t care if he was too young to understand what love meant. He loved her.

When she took her eyes off the sunset to stare back at him, instead of becoming flustered like earlier in the day, she only smiled back. Pink coated, sugary lips as sweet as her.

He wanted to kiss her.

But the fear of rejection was too strong.

He stuck out his tongue to tease her and snatched back his cotton candy, the moment lost to time.

High School - Sophomore Year: Not Today

Gwen Stacey.

The girl of his dreams.

She was beautiful, intelligent, kind and quick witted. Her 70’s chic style of clothing was unlike anyone else in the school. She didn’t care what others thought of her. She was strong and confident. She was perfect. That’s how he would describe her to anyone who asked. Perfection.

“You’re staring again, dumbass.”

The familiar snarky tone broke through his daydreams.

He pulled his sights away from the golden haired beauty sitting across the lunch room and turned them onto a different one instead.

Then there was her.

She wasn’t perfect. Far from it. She was broken. Sullen. Quiet. She never spoke to anyone else besides him. Never even tried to make other friends. But she was just as intelligent as Gwen. Smart but sad. He noticed that more and more. As the years went on, she lost more of the spark in her eyes. She retreated further into herself. Away from him. Away from everyone.

He sensed jealousy in her tone whenever he talked about his crush on Gwen. She was afraid to lose him. Afraid that he would leave her behind on her own. Without him, she would have no one. He knew that.

Peter forced a tired smile, lying, “I wasn’t staring.”

He used to stare at her that way when they were younger. Funny how time works. He didn’t see her like that anymore. Not really. Her personality shift since entering high school helped push his sights onto someone new. He missed who used to be before she walled herself in and blocked him out.

“Whatever you say, fuckin’ lover boy,” she rolled her eyes, giving him a scowl. She felt meaner than usual today. Irritated. On edge.

He wondered if something had happened. He had stopped asking about her home life years ago. It was a lost cause. He knew she was getting bullied at school, probably at home too. There were a myriad of reasons for her bad attitude.

He chose not to dig deeper.

She needed an outlet but he didn’t want to give her one. Not today. He was feeling meaner than usual, too.

Peter turned his gaze back to Gwen.

She was easier to look at. Softer. Happier. When he saw her, he didn’t have to see the years worth of baggage dragging behind her. There was just her and nothing else but his fantasies.

Perfection.

High School - Junior Year: Spider Bite

His body hurt.

Fire. He felt like liquid lava raged through his veins. His skin was clammy. Sweaty. His lungs constricted in agony with each breath. He could hear everything. Feel everything. Every hair was standing at attention. Every alarm in his head set off at once, alerting himself to dangers he couldn’t even see. Dangers he didn’t think were actually even there. Like having a panic attack for no apparent reason.

His body was eating him alive and, yet, he never felt stronger in his life.

The door to his bathroom lay propped up against his wall after he had accidentally ripped it from the hinges.

He sat perfectly still on his bed. Terrified to move.

There was a fluttering sound. Tiny, soft wings against a glass panel. Each smack of the wings reverberated like church bells inside his skull. A moth was stuck inside his room, trying to get out, trying to escape. He could hear it from his place on the bed. He could hear the flap of a moth’s wings. That was not normal.

Something was wrong.

He was sick.

He needed…a doctor…a scientist…an arachnologist…

His best friend. He needed his best friend.

Peter grabbed his jacket, getting it stuck to his fingers - why was everything so sticky? - as he tried to pry it from his grasp and onto his body instead.

He hadn’t been inside her apartment building since he was a kid. She never invited him. Sometimes he would walk her home but he stayed on the street corner until he saw her disappear inside. She moved apartments a few times but still remained inside the same building. He couldn’t remember which one she was in now. He knew she was back on the first floor though. That would be enough. Something told him that he would be able to find her regardless of his lack of knowledge.

Every sound of passing cars felt like his ear drums were being shattered. He could hear muffled conversations from people too far away. He could feel every drop of humidity on his skin. The putrid stench of garbage left on the street clawed up his nostrils. The smells, the sounds, the heat boiling inside his body was too much. Hot tears pricked at his eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. The world was closing in. He couldn’t breathe. His throat constricted. His vision blurred. He was floating away. Getting lost in the overwhelming sensations of the city.

Then he smelled it.

Her body lotion.

The faint smell of coconut as she applied it to her skin.

From an entire block away.

Peter picked up the pace until he was nearly sprinting towards the smell. He didn’t need to know which apartment was hers. It didn’t matter. He could hear her inside. Her steady heart beat. Her soft breaths. He’d never felt her so viscerally before. It felt like she was merging with his every cell. Drawing him closer. Calling him to her.

His safety. Everything would be okay once he was with her. Everything would make sense again. She would know what to do. She always did.

The tears streamed freely down his face as he turned the corner, down the alley, to the back of her building. She was three windows in. Metal bars fixed over every window on the first floor. Her own little prison cell. He could smell the thick odor of rust as he grabbed the bars in his fist, ripping them straight from her window with little effort. He heard her gasp. No screams. Just a shocked inhale. She never screamed. Never showed her fear. She kept it bottled up inside the safety of her chest.

The rapid quiver of her beating heart slowed when she saw his face appear through the grimy glass. Her eyes were wide with shock. Confusion. He didn’t care. Peter pushed the window open. It had probably never been opened in its life, painted over countless times, but he forced it to bend to his will. He crawled through. Head first. Tumbled onto the floor in a heap.

And then she was there.

He was lying at her feet. Curled up tight. Tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. Jittery uncertainty behind fearful, honey colored eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. A scared, little boy seeking the comfort of a life long friend.

She fell to her knees in front of him, ignoring the fact that he had just ripped metal bars from the bricks, and gathered him to her chest like a mother protecting her young. She didn’t need to know what was wrong. She didn’t need an explanation. All she knew was that he needed her. She held him tightly, there on the floor, under her broken window.

He relaxed into the safety of her grasp. Ragged, husky sobs shaking his body. It would be okay. Everything would be okay now. They could figure this out. Whatever this was. Together.

Even as he thought it, she whispered the words to reassure him. To make sure he knew.

“It’s okay, Pete. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re okay. I have you.”

A Week Before She Left: Nothing but Death

Gwen Stacy was dead.

George Stacy was dead.

Uncle Ben was dead.

He couldn’t save anyone. There was nothing. Nothing but grief. Nothing but hate. His heart had turned cold. Empty. Shriveled.

He looked down at the letter clutched in his hands. May had taken it from her as an act of courtesy and slid it under his bedroom door.

Pete,

You can find me at the Empire State Uni off campus apartment housing. Building 5. Room 212. I’ve got two roommates but I have my own bedroom.

My window will always be unlocked for you if you ever need me.

Come find me when you’re ready.

Love,

Your Fire Breathing Dragon

She kept knocking at his front door. Day after day. Kept trying to come inside. Kept trying to get him. He wouldn’t let her. Couldn’t. He refused to let anyone else die.

He was no knight in shining armor riding into an imaginary battle with his dragon. He wasn’t someone who could save her. He wasn’t her friend. Not anymore. The boy she knew was gone.

He was a murderer. A killer.

He wouldn’t kill her. The best thing for her was for him to disappear. Erase himself from her life. Fade away in the darkness where he belonged.

He crumbled the letter in his fist, letting it fall to the floor by his feet, along with the shredded dreams of his future.

Eight Months Since She Left: A Decaying Corpse

How many slutty blondes could Peter Parker fuck in a single week?

Eleven. That was his current score. Last night he had two at once. He buried his face between one’s thighs while the other sucked him off. No one tasted as good as Gwen. No one looked as beautiful naked. No one could ever come close.

Except for maybe one.

Peter pushed that thought out of his brain as quickly as it entered. She was gone. They both were. She died along with Gwen. That’s how he tried to frame it in his head. Somehow it was easier to accept. If he killed her off in his heart then he wouldn’t be tempted to find her. He couldn’t follow the dead.

No matter how badly he tried.

These women he surrounded himself with were nothing but a distraction. Half the time he couldn’t even finish. He could fuck them until they couldn’t stand but rarely found his own satisfaction in it. That was how he liked it. The more rough they let him be, the better. A sadistic side to him had formed these past few months. Part of him wanted to hurt them. Truly hurt them. They meant nothing to him. He liked to see how far he could push them, how hard he could slap them, how loud he could make them shriek before it became too much for them to handle. He wanted to push them past the limits they thought they had to show them how much they could really take. A test of their strength, of their will to live, how far they could go before tapping out.

Once he choked a woman so tightly, he almost couldn’t stop. For a moment he wanted to feel his fingernails break through the barrier of her delicate skin and sink into the viscera of her insides. He wanted to tear her vocal chords from her neck. He wanted to feel her blood soaking into his skin. He wanted to kill her. She didn’t deserve to live. Why did she get to live while Gwen had to die? What did she do to deserve this life?

It had taken everything in him to pull back. Before she could even fully catch her breath again, he was gone. Naked. Lost into the night. Didn’t even stop to grab his clothes.

He didn’t know the person he had become.

He wasn’t eating. Wasn’t sleeping.

He had killed more bad guys this month than the month before. His body count was rapidly rising. It didn't matter what they did. Rapists, killers, and bank robbers were all the same in his eyes. No crime was less than the one before. They all got the finality of death. He didn’t care. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man no longer existed. He died along with the old Peter. If the police thought he was a menace before, he was now actively wanted. A warrant was out for the arrest of the Spider-Man. Had been for some time. They would never catch him, of course. He’d snatch their life from them before he let anyone take him in. It wouldn’t be the first time he had a cop’s blood on his hands.

A vigilante turned villain.

A decaying corpse of the man he once was.

Nine Months Since She Left: We’re All Dead

“Where the hell have you been?”

May sat in the dark at the kitchen table. It was 3am. She was still awake. She usually never waited up for him anymore. He thought she had stopped asking questions months ago.

Peter stood in loose fitting, dirty clothes. Fresh blood dripped down his chin from his split open lip. His right eye was starting to swell shut. He refused to look at her as he gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Out.”

“Out? It is three in the goddamn morning, Peter!” Her voice was shrill. She was masking her fear for him with anger. “This is the fifth time this week you have disappeared like this. Do you understand how worried I get? You come crawling home every night covered in more bruises than I keep track of. Where are you going? What are you doing? Who is doing this to you?”

He swallowed. His throat felt dry. He wished he could feel the familiar pang of guilt he used to feel whenever he would upset May. Instead, he felt nothing because there was nothing. He was nothing. A corpse.

“I said I was out. I’m not a child anymore. You don’t need to wait up. I can take care of myself.”

He pushed past her towards the stairs, making the climb to his bedroom. She followed closely behind him.

“You think you can take care of yourself? Look at you, Peter! You are wasting away into nothing! I can’t find you behind your eyes anymore. It’s like there is nothing left inside of you. You need help. Let me help you, please. I can’t keep sitting around watching you slowly kill yourself. I can’t lose you, too. You are my boy and I refuse to let you continue down this path.”

An angry beast raged inside his chest as he stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to growl in her face, “I am not your boy! I am not your son! My parents are dead with the rest of everyone else I ever gave a shit about! Ben is dead. Gwen is dead. You’re dead.” His eyes fell to an old picture of his friend hanging on his bedroom wall. They were kids. Smiling with arms wrapped each other’s necks. “She’s dead. I’m dead. Everyone is dead, May. Don’t you understand? Everyone is dead and there’s nothing left. I have no one! I am nothing. I don’t exist.” His bottom lip quivered but no tears formed. He had lost the ability to cry long ago.

Her face broke in anguish, “Oh, honey.” Her voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper. “Oh, Peter.” She tried to wrap him up in an embrace but he pulled back.

He shook his head, looking at her through pained, dead eyes, “I think it would be best if I moved out.”

He closed the door in her face before she could reply.

“Peter?”

He didn’t remember coming here.

After his run in with May, he had started emptying out his drawers. He hadn’t known what he was looking for. Probably nothing. He just needed to be doing something. Anything. He had thrown his dresser drawers open and flung out his clothes. They lay scattered at his feet. Papers from his desk slowly fluttered back to the ground as he tossed them over his shoulder. A tantrum. That’s what he was reduced to. A tantrum where he needed to destroy everything he touched.

And then her crumbled letter was somehow in his hand. His last contact with her. He didn’t even know he had kept it.

You can find me at the Empire State Uni off campus apartment housing. Building 5. Room 212.

His safety. His best friend. He had abandoned her. She wasn’t dead, just forgotten. He had killed her in his mind to make the separation easier. He was protecting her. He was keeping her safe. He didn’t want her to die. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t bury another person he loved.

My window will always be unlocked for you if you ever need me.

“Peter?”

He blinked, his mask was on. He was in his Spider suit. He didn’t remember putting it on. He didn’t remember how he got here.

Come find me when you’re ready.

He reached up to pull the mask from his head. His eyes bore into her. He wasn’t sure if she was real or not. He couldn’t feel her living inside his senses like he used. They had become so dull since Gwen died.

“What are you doing here?” She looked nervous like she was encountering a ghost.

Maybe she was.

His voice felt like a distant echo in his ears as he spoke, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Summer: Why?

Her roommates hated him.

He could hear them constantly bitching about his presence through the walls. He was a dark cloud of depression hanging over their apartment.

It only got worse after he fucked them. Not at the same time. Separate occasions. He thought it might shut them up for a bit but, once they found out he was sleeping with them both, all hell broke loose.

They were screaming at each in the next room.

Somehow she had gotten involved in the mess, too. He hadn’t intended for that but there was no stopping it now. They were yelling at her for letting him live here without paying rent. He didn’t even go to their school. They felt betrayed and used and they weren’t wrong. A man whore. That’s what they were currently calling him.

A malicious smile grew across his lips as he laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. He liked the chaos that he caused. He wanted her roommates gone. Peter knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted her for himself. All they did was complain anyway. They never liked her. They made fun of her behind her back. They didn’t like her anymore than they liked him.

Once they were gone it would all be okay again.

They could go back to how things used to be. Just the two of them against the world. Two kids, with no other friends, clinging to each other as tight as they could.

Her bedroom door opened. Her eyes were puffy. She was trying not to cry. For the first time in a long time, he felt the sharp slashing of guilt slice through his heart. An overwhelming sadness washed over him. It had been so long since he felt anything besides anger or bitterness. His jaw clenched as he sat up, mulling over the new emotions bubbling under his skin.

“Why did you do that? Why are you doing this?” She asked weakly.

Why am I taking advantage of your kindness by having you house me for free? Why am I letting you take care of me without giving you anything in return? Why am I sleeping with your roommates? Why am I sleeping with them instead of you? Why am I torturing you like this?

“I…I don’t know,” he replied.

He knew how she felt about him. He could see it in her eyes. He knew that look. He’d seen it in Gwen’s eyes once upon a time. She loved him. More than a friend. More than family.

Maybe she always had.

He’d always loved her. Even when he loved Gwen.

He couldn’t love her though. Not like she deserved. That part of him was gone.

She sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes, a steady resolve settling over her, “They’re pulling out of our student housing next semester. I’m not going to have anyone to live with. You need to enroll in the school. It’ll qualify you for housing. We can move in together. I want to see it done by next week or else I’m done. I can’t do this, Peter. I took care of you all summer. You hardly speak to me, you don’t look at me, you give me nothing. I do everything for you because I know you’re hurting but this is enough. Enroll in the school, Pete. Get your life together. Try and make something of yourself. It’s time.”

Early Fall: Triggers

School was easy. It always has been. This was no different. He understood the lessons and could pass the tests, he merely struggled to attend the classes or pay attention. No one seemed to mind too much as long as he was passing. He wasn’t doing this for him. He was doing it for her.

Little by little his feelings started to unthaw from their frozen state. College gave him a taste of normalcy back. There was a schedule to follow, whether he chose to or not. There was food always available and safe places to find silence when he needed to. He hadn’t spoken to May since he left but he kept telling himself one of these days he would reach out.

He was trying to mend what shred of friendship he had left. She was very forgiving of him despite everything he put her through. Every day he saw the love in her eyes grow stronger. It scared him. Two steps forward, one step back. He wanted to keep her close but still hold her at arm's length. She couldn’t love him. He wasn’t ready for that.

He would keep their conversations based on easier things. School work, Spider-Man, any lighthearted topics that involve little effort. Spider-Man was getting back to his old self, too. Peter hadn’t killed anyone since he found his way back to her, inadvertently or not. She was building new gadgets for him. Part of him felt like he was back in high school, popping by her bedroom window for a drink of water before swinging back into the night. It was nice. Familiar.

Tonight she sat cross-legged on the couch, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in her hand, as she watched Hook.

“I haven’t seen this movie since I was a kid,” he lamented.

Peter hopped over to her and plopped down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She happily snuggled into his side. It felt right having her there. She scooped up a spoonful of the chocolate chip cookie dough and held it up to his mouth which he gladly accepted.

“Do you ‘member what you asked the first time we met?” He asked her through his mouthful of ice cream.

She frowned, trying to remember. The top of her nose wrinkled in concentration then relaxed, shaking her head, “No idea. I was, like, six years old or something. How do you remember that?”

He smiled down at her, “You asked me if I was named after Peter Pan.”

“Sounds like something a child would ask. He was the only other Peter I knew.”

He nodded, pondering it over, “I told you that I wasn’t because I couldn’t fly.”

“Look at you now,” she laughed. “I think swinging through the city is the closest you’ll ever come to flying. You almost got there.”

His smile faded, only part of her words still ringing in his ears while the rest was drowned out. Look at him now. Look at him. Who was he? Nobody. Who did he want to be? Nothing. Why was he alive? Because he was too weak to take his own life. What was his purpose? There wasn’t one. What was he doing here? Hurting her.

He was hurting her. His abilities to feel proper emotions were still miniscule. They weren’t thawing out as fast as he would have liked. He was still cold too. Too mean. Too selfish. His mere presence in her life would only ever drag her down.

Rufio was fighting Captain Hook. Going one on one with their world’s most dangerous pirate. Too cocky for his own good. Too young for the responsibility he was given. The Lost Boys looked to Rufio when Pan left them. He was placed in charge. He was given too much power, too young. Got too full of himself. Thought he could defeat the evil without any consequences. It would be his downfall.

Peter’s eyes stayed trained onto the television, utterly absorbed in the story playing out before him. His own emotions started to spiral. He could feel the panic rising up his throat. Snuffing out his air. He knew what was coming next. He knew how this story ended.

“Lookie, lookie, I got Hookie.”

His eyes slipped close. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t watch the sword pierced through his chest.

“Do you know what I wish? I wish I had a dad like you.”

He wished he could turn back time. He wished he could have been faster. Stronger. Better.

Pan held Rufio in his arms as the young boy died, the life fading from his eyes, just like he had held Gwen. Forever young. Frozen in time.

Even the giant clock lodged between the crocodile’s toothy jaws reminded him of her final moments. Tick…tick…tick…her time was lost.

Peter blinked through half spaced out eyes, straightening up, and removed his arm from around her shoulders. They shouldn’t be cuddling like this. This was how couples sat. This was how he used to sit with Gwen. He was giving her the wrong impression. He wasn’t helping her. He was being a bad friend. Always hurting her.

“You okay?” She glanced between the scene playing and himself. She could sense his coldness settling back in around them.

He gave a stiff nod, forcing a half smile, “Yeah. I’m alright. I think I’m going to go out for a bit. I’ll see ya later, yeah?”

He needed to find someone. A blonde. Someone skinny with a pretty face. He needed to find them and dominate them. He needed them screaming so loud as he relentlessly pounded into them that she would hear. He had to show her that he wasn’t interested. He had to crush her love. That love would only lead to death. He couldn’t do that again. He wouldn’t bury her. He wouldn’t. Not to her. Never her.

Late Fall: A New Seed

It worked. Whatever depression fueled scheme he had come up with to stop her from loving him, it was working, he was fairly certain. She seemed distant. He knew he was breaking her but he couldn’t stop. It had to be this way. How could he ever love someone again? It would shatter him in two if he even dared to entertain the idea. The further he pushed her away, the more she overtook his thoughts.

Every time he plunged into a woman, he pretended it was her. Every late night session with his right hand was fueled by his desires for her. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep, she was the subject of his dreams. He breathed her in with every breath he took.

She was so beautiful.

She always had been but, the more she matured into an adult, the more in sync everything felt on her face. It was like she fell perfectly into place.

Sometimes when he looked at her, he felt like he was eight years olds again, falling in love with her on the swings.

The object of his desires. The one he wanted. The one he refused to reach out for time and time again. Only this time he wasn’t afraid of being rejected from a kiss. He was afraid of death. Afraid of the pain that would follow.

His whole life she had been his. She never had anyone else. He never had to share. He made her have to share him but never the other way around.

Until now.

It was only a matter of time until someone finally saw her the way he did. He was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. The guy seemed nice enough. She lit up when he looked at her. A tiny spark of fire blazed behind her eyes with each word she spoke to him. There was something there. A seed being planted. One that could grow if she let it. He planted a seed and started to nurture it with someone else once. She should be able to do the same.

Gabe.

Gwen.

This was what she deserved. To be loved by a nice man. Someone who would cherish her. Someone to see her potential. Someone to care about her.

Someone with the ability to love. Anyone but Peter would do, he couldn’t give her what she needed.

Then why couldn’t he stay away?

He saw them together and his heart screamed out. His skin seared with heated inferno. Green with envy.

Gabe. Gwen. Gwen. Gabe. Their faces flashed rapidly before his blurred vision. Gabe. Gwen. Gabe. Gwen. GabeGwenGabeGwenGwenGwen -

Her.

He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. He couldn’t watch her disappear from him with another man. Is that how she felt all those years ago as he fixated on Gwen in the lunch room instead of her? Is this what her heart felt like when she looked at him? No wonder why she used to be so fucking mean. If her heart felt anything close to what he currently felt, it was a miracle she was able to keep herself so composed.

Drawn to her like a magnet, he couldn’t control himself. He had to follow them. It wasn’t an option. His feet carried him straight to the shadows of the underpass.

Gabe didn’t know her like he did. He didn’t play make believe with her. He didn’t pass notes with her in class. He didn’t devote his life to being her best friend. He didn’t know about her father or how she grew up. He never had to kill her off in his mind to even bear the thought of letting her go. They never manifested themselves into constellations so they could live together, forever, amongst the stars.

He wasn’t there like Peter was. Peter knew her. Every part of her. So deeply.

They were kissing. He was kissing her. She was kissing him back.

The earth crumbled under his feet.

He should be able to let her go. This was what he was trying to do. This was exactly why he was trying to push her away. This was his stupid plan. He had wanted her to move on. Anyone but him. Anyone…

Then why couldn’t he stop himself?

Like a jealous, angry, cocky boy given too much power before he was ready to fully bear the weight of it, he had tased her date and got him sent away in an ambulance.

Just like that he was gone.

Disappeared from their lives as quickly as he came in.

Nothing but the two of them now.

Like it always had been. Like it always will be.

She was furious. Livid. But, worst of all, she was heartbroken. Completely and wholly heartbroken.

“He made me feel special. He looked at me like I was beautiful. Why couldn’t you let me have that? Just once. Just once I wanted to feel like someone could love me. You gotta have that so why couldn’t I?”

She was beautiful even through her pain.

The city lights reflected off the water beside them and bounced back up onto her face. They glinted like tiny sparkles off the tears in her eyes.

He hurt her.

He broke her heart.

His best friend.

His only friend.

Peter closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him and absorb into his pores. She had never once felt beautiful before tonight. How he had failed her. All these years she had looked in the mirror and never saw what he did. All these years he had loved her and never dared to say it. She was right there in front of him and he had chosen someone else. Loved someone else. He was the one who broke her. The one who abandoned her. The one who exploited her generosity and friendship.

What had he become?

He let himself die with Gwen when he should have kept living for the person who needed him most.

“I love you,” the words he spoke were hardly above a whisper.

They fell from his lips with a raw honesty he wasn’t used to. Pained like it hurt to physically say them.

He loved her. Always.

Even still, she couldn’t comprehend how true his words were. That’s how deeply he had failed her.

“No. You’re not hearing me.” He reached for her then. He couldn’t stop himself. The emotions were too strong. He touched her cheek. Softly turning her face towards him, “I love you. I’ve loved you since the day you fell off those monkey bars in the first grade. I just…it was just too much. I was scared if it didn’t work out then I would lose you from my life forever. I’d rather keep you as my friend where you’re safe with me forever. But after Gw-” He still couldn’t say her name out loud. His heart stung. “-after everything, I don’t want to have anymore what ifs or what could have been. I saw you with that guy and it made me realize. Everything snapped into place. I love you. I don't want you to be with someone else. I want you to be with me.”

She was kissing him.

Her lips were chilly. Soft. Her tongue warm and wet. A perfect blend to awake his senses. He felt alive. For the first time since allowing parts of him to perish, he was reborn. Awake. Whole.

His arms were around her waist. Drawing her closer. He could smell the soft, lingering scent of coconut on her skin. The smell was as familiar to him as May’s light, floral perfume and the musty backseat of Ben’s Oldsmobile. One he could never forget. His home. His childhood. His everything.

He loved her.

He wanted her.

He…

Gwen’s face exploded into vibrant color behind his eyes.

…couldn’t do this.

Peter gently pulled away.

Her fist was balled up in her sleeve and pressed against the infamous spider symbol on his chest. Her eyes fluttered open. They gazed up at him with years of unexpressed love. She was too pure. Too good.

He gave her a sad smile, “I’ve thought you were beautiful my entire life. I’m sorry I never told you sooner. I should have told you every single day. But…this…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I’m a broken man. I’m not okay. I’m not done healing. I don’t even think I’ve started. What I did tonight proves that. You are the most special person in my life. I’m sorry I keep hurting you. My head, it's…it’s not right…after everything…I’ve done terrible things. Things you deserve to know about before you choose me. I can’t steal you away like this. You deserve to make the choice yourself. After you know everything. When I’m done, whatever you want, I’ll do it. If you want me to drop you off at the hospital to see Gabe, I’ll do it. If you want to never see me again, I’ll go. If you want to keep me, I’ll stay. Everything is in your hands. It’s where it belongs.”

She stayed silent. Listening. Processing.

And nodded.

There’s no good way to tell the person he loves about all the people he’s killed. It didn’t matter if they were bad guys, he was no better than them, he killed them quick and swift before the cops could arrive. There had been no more cute notes stuck to a webbed up, squirming criminal. Instead, all they’d arrive to was a bloody, broken, still warm corpse. If they were dead, there was no chance they could ever hurt anyone again. There was no more chance of anyone innocent crossing paths with the danger they brought. He gave them no chance for redemption and he felt no guilt for them or their lost lives.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes when talking about the sexual abuse he inflicted on his sex partners. Most of the time they asked for it, agreed to it, but there were times when he went too far. Times they weren’t always asking to be slapped around that hard. Times he had lost himself. Times he wished they were dead. For them, he felt guilt. A deep-seated cavern full of it. He’d rather be ripped apart, limb by limb, than explain in detail how far he fell after Gwen’s death and witness the horror etched into her features.

But he did it.

Because she deserved to hear it. All of it. Every dark monster lurking deep behind his closet door. He ripped open his chest and presented her his bloodied, broken heart without anything to hide behind.

She cried. He cried. The tears felt foreign in his eyes but she had held his hand and he willed them to fall. It was a mess but they came out the other end more in sync than when they entered.

A start.

A new seed being planted in fresh, overturned soil.

The love was there. Nervous and shy, hiding behind their legs like a scared child. It needed time to grow, to blossom, before it was ready to stand on its own.

It was decided that Peter needed to focus on himself first. A relationship now would be too fragile. There was no foundation for them to build on if Peter was broken and cracked.

The anger couldn’t go away overnight. The shame and guilt lived on too strong to allow for much else. He’d have to pick away at the vines wrapped tight around his castle walls if he’d ever want to create a warm home for her to curl up inside.

Their conversation lasted all night. They hadn’t moved from their spot standing above the river. He stood directly over the place he had tased a man simply because he saw her kissing someone who wasn’t him. They hadn’t moved an inch. Night turned into day. Dark to light. The early morning work folk started to take to the streets. No one looked twice at the maskless Spider-Man leaning against the railing, dried tears on his face, next to the girl of his dreams. It was too early for anyone to care.

They watched the sun steadily rise over the buildings in silence.

They had been silent for a while now but neither one wanted to move. It was comfortable here, side by side, with everything laid bare. No more secrets. No more hiding.

“Therapy.”

She was the one to break first.

He blinked a few times to wash away the sleepy, mindless state he’d fallen into, “Hmm?”

“Therapy,” she repeated. “That’s what I chose for us. You are going to get therapy. Me too. We need it.” She let out a soft exhale. “Badly.”

Peter responded with a tired chuckle, “Therapy. I think I can manage that. Therapy, it is, then. That’s what we will do.”

She nodded in confirmation, “I want you to keep living with me. Keep our separate rooms. I want to keep being friends and supporting each other while we do this. But, Peter-” Her tone shifted into something more serious, her body shifted to face him. “I do not want to ever listen to you have sex with someone inside our apartment. I won’t ever sit through that again. I love you, you know that, and I will not be tortured with that shit anymore. In return, I won’t date anyone else until you’re ready. Not that I have a line of suitors waiting out the door anyway…”

The morning, golden sun highlighted the frizz that settled on top of her windblown hair after her stressful night.

He wasn’t ever planning on sleeping with anyone again unless it was her.

“And,” she continued. “I want you to visit Gabe with me to give him a proper apology. We both owe him that. He’s a good person. He deserves an explanation. Just, like, leave out the part where you’re Spider-Man and I created the Bug Zappers that nearly killed him.”

A lazy, crooked smile formed on his face, “Okay. Anything you say, I’ll do. Therapy, apologies, and abstinence.”

She mimicked his smile, the love never once fading from her eyes, “Only for now.”

One day, he would be able to give her everything she wanted. One day, she would be able to accept it.

One day but not today.

Today, they would walk arm and arm back to their home and fall asleep against each other on the couch. Today, they would skip classes and order in food. Today, they will be friends.

Tomorrow, they could be whatever they wanted. Tomorrow, he might even continue with the apologies and give May a call. He’d gone too long without speaking to her. Maybe they could visit. All three of them together. Like older times. Times when everything seemed less big. Less scary. Less real and final.

The future was theirs.

Peter nodded, reaching out to take her hand, “For now.”

i’m still #teamgabe

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