#Everyone is a LOT safer if he has her around

[gooselullaby]

What a funny noise! Its clearly an affectionate one, so as she's nuzzled, Amber returns the nuzzles, mimicking the noises. A rather poor mimcry, but one filled with the same affections he's conveying to her.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ although the sound that comes out of Mewtwo doesn't sound at all as a purr should, the pleasant vibrations it produces throughout him and into her feel the same. he nuzzles the child in return.

[peachesofteal]

The wallflower.

Johnny clocks it immediately, your shoulders practically pinned against the pale-yellow wall, pint glass slick with condensation cradled between your fingers. Your eyes dart around and then away, finding something to study in the carpet, or the stairs, on the coffee table.

You’re not comfortable here, that much is clear.

He elbows Simon. “Poor girl looks nervous.” Simon gives you a furtive glance over the rim of his glasses, and nods.

“Probably only knows one person. Or got dragged here.” It’s Kyle’s wife’s birthday party. She has a lot of friends it seems, well liked in all facets of her life, work and otherwise. He clucks his tongue. “Sweet thing.” Someone bumps into you, and then pivots, reaching out to grab your arm in apology. You don’t tell him off or pull away. You just glance at his hand, meek smile stretching your lips sour. It turns Johnny’s stomach.

“She needs rescuing.”

“Johnny.” There’s a warning in Simon’s tone, a reproachful sentiment that he knows well. No strays. No projects. No more shelter pets.

“Ach c’mon. Look at her.” That one muscle in Simon’s cheek feathers, the one that says everything without Simon saying anything at all. Broken resolve.

He sighs. Johnny grins.

“Ye alright?” The man who’s taken up a residence at your shoulder is now speaking to you. Worse, he’s asking you if you’re alright.  

“I… I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” You grip your glass tighter, ignoring the flip of your stomach. You snuck at glance at him when he first came over, and that was enough. He’s very handsome.

And you’re, well-

You’re… you.

“Someone ditch ye?” Oh god.

“Uh, no. My friend is over there.” You point to Anna’s back. She’s in the kitchen, laughing so loud you can hear her from across the living room.

“Ah. She did ditch ye.”

“No!” You glare at him, “No.”

“But she didnae offer to introduce you to anyone?” You wince, and his eyes flicker with sympathy. “Ah, she did.”

“I’m not good with… people.” The understatement of the year. You don’t do people. People are too unpredictable, too much of an unknown. A pattern of behavior will only take you so far, and it’s hard to forecast their actions, reactions, words, emotions… everything.

You prefer safer bets. Predictable things. Equations, mostly.

“Ye’re not good w’people, but ye’re at a party.”

“Yes, it’s quite a feat.” You snap your mouth shut, expecting him to give you a weird look, but he laughs.

“If ye’re uncomfortable, why stay?”

“Because, social interactions are good for me. And I promised myself a slice of cheese pizza if I made it an hour.” He should laugh. Most would. Most would think it’s fucking hilarious, how you’re bribing yourself, dangling a carrot in front of your face.

But this guy doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh. He cocks his head, and frowns. “So… ye’re torturing yourself so ye can earn a slice of pizza.” A nervous giggle bubbles up and out your throat.

“It sounds bad when you put it that way but-“

“It is bad.” A deep voice sounds from over your shoulder, and you jump.

“This is Simon.” Your new… friend, Johnny, motions to the hulking man at your side, and you manage a nod, spitting out your name. “He’s no’ scary, just looks it.” Johnny reaches for his hand, and the equation clicks to together with ease.

Oh.

“You here with a friend?”

“Uh. Yep.” You point to Anna, again, and they exchange a look.

“She ditch ya?” Same question, different accent, and you’re about to give the same answer, when Johnny intercedes.

“She’s here so she can have a slice of pizza.” Yeah. It sounds bad.

“Wot?”

“I… It’s good for me to be around people so I said if I could do it for an hour, I could have pizza.” They’re both wearing expressions you can’t translate, two faces you don’t understand, and it twists you up.

“Do you usually ransom yourself pizza?”

“N-no.”

“Is it… an eating thing?”

“Oh, no. It’s like… I’d rather be at home, but everyone says socializing is… important. So, for doing something I hate, I get pizza.” Simon sighs.

“Trying to fit a square into a circle.” The comment is puzzling, but as you’re trying to put it together, Johnny links his pinky with yours and tugs you closer. The room is quiet, the music, the laughing, the chatter, all of it goes silent. There are dozens and dozens of people in here, but right now, it’s just you and these two. Staring at one another. There’s a web thin string spinning from him, to you, to Simon, and it’s wrapping you up, cocooning you, holding you tight.

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye wannae go get that slice with us?” Do it. Just do it. Do something. You take a deep breath.

“Sure.”  

They look comical, shoved into the pleather red booth across the table from you, Simon far too wide to comfortably accommodate Johnny, but they don’t seem to mind. “So, cheese then?” You nod, picking at the faded corner of a menu. This was a bad idea, this was stupid. What were you thinking? Why-

“Three slices of cheese please.” You hadn’t even noticed the server, and you panic when she starts to turn away.

“And a coke!” You blurt, immediately embarrassed. She stares at you for a second before nodding, forcing a smile, and walking off. Fuck. You press your palm down on the table, trying to focus on the texture, the feel of it.

“Hey,” Simon says softly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” You bristle.

“I know that.” Of course you know… don’t you?

Clearly not.

They don’t try to force you into conversation, but they do talk to you. They don’t ask you pointed questions or try to dig into you, instead choosing to tell you about themselves, their dog, their jobs. They keep you involved without dragging you in unwillingly.

It’s nice.

You’re halfway through your slice when you realize they’re watching you.

 “What? Is there something on my face?” You frantically wipe at your chin, your cheeks. Simon’s mouth quirks.

“Nothing on your face, sweet girl.” Your brain scrambles. Words fail. You don’t think anyone has ever called you something like that before.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good.” Stupid.

“Go on and finish up.” He instructs, pointing at the grease laden slice, and you bring it to your mouth obediently. “Want to come for a walk with us after this? Our favorite park is around the corner, and the moon is really bright tonight.” A walk. With them. A walk? What does that mean? Just like, a walk?

Do it. Just do it. Do something. Be brave.

You roll your shoulders, and take a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly and swallowing.

And then you nod.

“Yes.”

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Catalyst

so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.

swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the ship—she doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.

what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.

anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).

meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.

it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.

they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close one—could you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."

anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.

[timmydraker]

Tim who has never been good at understanding the words of Shakespeare and Dickens.

He can understand metaphors and knows about philosophy, but he’s always struggle to truely grasp the tragedy and helplessness so may of them hold. The idea of someone being doomed from the start, by the author and the narrative or maybe just the world they were set in, just doesn’t really make sense to him.

Part of him knows it’s because he was born with a vintage silver spoon placed delicately in his hands, but there’s more to it than that.

See, most of the bad things that have happened to Tim have either been consequences of his own action or the fact that his friends and colleagues all have the same dangerous job.

To him it just makes sense that bad things will happen and so he can just… prepare for it. He can do what he can to fix it or move onto something else and push away his own feelings because what else is he supposed to do?

So, no, things like Hamlet and Dorian don’t really click for him

At least… until he thinks about Jason.

Born in poverty with a world surrounding him that would not bother to care or offer help to him purely because of how he looks of his parents.

A mother who loves him endlessly, only to fall into the drugs she tried to protect him from.

Finding out that mother didn’t even give birth to him, but the father that never showed anything other than distain and cruelty was still his own.

Being given Robin, hated by the first one for a time, only to die in the suit by the hands of a mad man all because his real mother sold him out.

Waking up in a coffin, digging himself out and roaming around catatonic and the only thoughts he can actually process is that he must be a ghost.

Being taken by a league of killers, lied to and trick and tormented into thing a perfect weapon.

Realise his mentor, who he once thought the father he deserved to have, has failed him and let his killer free because of something as fickle as a moral compass.

Seeing that mentor seemingly replace him with a perfect rich kid who doesn’t swear or complain or sneak off without permission from what he can tell.

Having no real friends in that time.

Having no one to trust because everyone had an ulterior motive. Everyone uses him.

And through out it all, even with all the hate and the bitterness and injustice he had been faced with, his first course of action is to make the home he first had and the only one he will ever have… safer.

To protect the kids like him from becoming statistics and killers, from the pain he felt and the false promises of the Batman.

Jason keeps honesty and integrity, even when no one else offers it to him in return.

Tim can’t understand Macbeth or Antigone or Othello, can’t see why someone would write something so morbid just to try and entertain.

But he can understand, or at least try to understand, Jason Todd.

Because that is someone who had actually been hurt for no reason. Someone who had been tormented by the universe, by fates and coincidence, with no real lesson being taught other than the world hates him.

Sure Jason has Roy and Biz and Artemis and Kori, but what about a brother?

Dick tried, he still does, but he fails Jason over and over by trying to make him ‘better’.

Damian doesn’t really care too much, not out of malice but there’s just not much of a connection between them.

Cass tries, but Jason is always awkward around her and that’s not his fault, you can’t hide a thing from her.

Duke liked Jason a lot, but again, the newest Bat is trying hard to find his place in the world of vigilantes and can’t quite find it in himself to be too close to Jason’s violence.

But Tim…

He’s morals have always been held together by the simple fact of ‘it’s not really that approved of’ and not much else. He won’t kill, but unlike the others he is happy to leave a Rouge in a sinking ship and not feel a hint of guilt.

He adores Jason’s Robin, he knows to some extent how much he lost with that, and now he knows that Jason might not need much more than a few good things.

Small things, nothing that will trick him into thinking the world is apologising because it won’t, but enough to show him that Tim thinks he’s still worth something.

Tim won’t try convince him to become a better person or to stop killing, he might ask him to be a bit more rational and probably won’t be able to stop himself from giving tips on how to run his business, but he wouldn’t ask for his violent brother to change.

Because unlike everyone else, Tim knows that violence exist for good reason.

If it keeps his Jason alive, Tim will gladly hold onto his blood soaked hand.

[arilevenatz]

Outscored 𝟏┃C.JH

Pairing: jock!Jongho x Reader

Genre/trope: enemies to lovers au

Word Count: 25.7k (💀) [it's gonna be a 2 parter]

Warnings: biker jongho (need I say more?), he is also a bit annoying, but he becomes a MAN at the end

AN: Ok I'm a sucker for jongho, u guys know it. And after he posted his picture I had a seizure. And I kinda slipped and wrote this whole thing. And yeah this is for all the jongho girlies out there like me. Please please please love this as I spent a lot of time writing this!

Masterlist

This is part one. Read part two here-

one | two

The brisk winter air nipped at YN’s cheeks as she stood at the entrance of her new college. The towering brick building seemed almost menacing in the gray morning light, but she pushed the uneasiness aside. This was her fresh start—a chance to prove herself in a new environment. With her books clutched tightly to her chest, she took a deep breath and walked inside.

The first few days were a whirlwind of introductions, lectures, and navigating unfamiliar hallways. YN quickly found herself bonding with Hanni, a bright and cheerful girl who seemed to know everyone. Hanni made the transition easier, guiding YN through the social intricacies of the campus.

By the end of the week, YN noticed something odd. Every time a certain group walked down the hall, conversations died, students avoided eye contact, and some even went as far as turning around to take another route. She spotted them from a distance—eight guys, each exuding an air of dominance that seemed to make the air thicker. They moved like a pack, and the energy around them was impossible to ignore.

"Who are they?" YN finally asked Hanni during lunch, her curiosity outweighing her hesitance.

Hanni’s face turned serious as she glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “That’s Ateez,” she whispered. “They’re…well, the jocks of the college. Everyone fears them.”

YN frowned. “Why?”

“They’re not just athletes. They’re...intense. If someone so much as looks at them the wrong way, things don’t end well.” Hanni hesitated, lowering her voice further. “I heard someone got sent to the hospital last year because of an argument with one of them.”

YN’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Hongjoong is their leader. He’s smart but scary. Seonghwa, his second-in-command, always has this calm but intimidating vibe. Yunho and Mingi are the muscle—you don’t want to get on their bad side. San and Wooyoung? Absolute chaos, always ready to start something. Yeosang is quiet, but people say he’s the sharpest one of them all. And Jongho…he’s the enforcer. If Hongjoong gives the word, Jongho makes sure it’s done.”

YN’s stomach twisted uneasily. “They sound like villains in a movie.”

Hanni shrugged. “It’s best to steer clear of them. Just focus on your studies and don’t give them a reason to notice you.”

YN didn’t respond to Hanni’s warning, opting instead to stay quiet and let the conversation drift to safer topics. Deep down, she wasn’t sure how she felt about this so-called fearsome group. They sounded like trouble, but she didn’t see how avoiding them would be difficult—she wasn’t the type to get involved with people like that anyway.

Later that afternoon, YN walked into her next lecture, the chill of the earlier conversation still lingering. She found her usual spot near the back of the classroom, quietly unpacking her notebook and pen. The room slowly filled with students, but the air shifted when a group entered.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Whispers and nervous glances rippled through the class, and her pulse quickened.

For the first time, YN let herself take a cautious look. There he was—Jongho. He was hard to miss, even without the murmurs. Tall and broad-shouldered, he carried an aura of icy indifference, his sharp jawline and piercing gaze giving him an almost unapproachable air. He wore a simple hoodie, but somehow, it only emphasized his muscular frame.

YN quickly looked away, her heart pounding. So this is what Hanni meant. She had shared a class with him all week but hadn’t even realized it. She must have been too absorbed in adjusting to the new college life to notice.

Jongho took a seat a few rows ahead of her, close enough that she could see the subtle tension in his posture. He didn’t speak to anyone, his focus completely on the empty whiteboard at the front of the room. He radiated a coldness that seemed to push everyone away, yet she noticed how other students carefully avoided sitting near him.

Deciding to stick to her original plan, YN ignored his presence, keeping her eyes firmly on her notes throughout the lecture. But as the weeks passed, it became harder to pretend he wasn’t there. He was in more of her classes than she’d realized, and his presence was impossible to miss.

Jongho never caused a scene—he was silent, focused, and distant. Yet there was something about him that made her uneasy. He wasn’t just another student. There was a weight to him, a quiet strength that made the air feel heavier when he walked into a room.

And whether she wanted to admit it or not, YN was beginning to notice him more and more.

Jongho had never paid much attention to his classmates. He came to class, did what was required, and left—never lingering or engaging unless absolutely necessary. To him, school was simply a task to complete, something to cross off his list.

But one day, during a particularly grueling economics lecture, something caught his attention. The professor had asked a question—a tricky one that made most of the class go silent, their heads sinking lower to avoid eye contact.

And then, she spoke.

"Isn’t the answer related to the supply-demand equilibrium in a perfectly competitive market?"

Her voice was calm and self-assured, and when Jongho glanced up from his notebook, he saw her. She sat near the back, her expression thoughtful as she explained her reasoning. The professor nodded, impressed, and praised her for her detailed response.

Jongho’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t even considered answering that question—it had seemed too abstract to bother with. Yet, there she was, providing answers with ease.

At first, he shrugged it off. Maybe she just got lucky. But over the next few classes, he noticed it happening again. The professor would pose a difficult question, and before anyone else could muster the courage to speak, she’d answer it. Every time.

It started to bother him.

Jongho prided himself on being one of the smartest students in his classes, even if he didn’t flaunt it. He hated drawing attention to himself, but deep down, he knew he was sharp—more than capable of holding his own against anyone. Yet this transfer student, who barely even seemed to acknowledge anyone in the room, was constantly one step ahead.

“Who does she think she is?” he muttered under his breath after one particularly frustrating class.

From then on, Jongho found himself paying closer attention to her. He wasn’t sure if it was out of curiosity or sheer annoyance, but he started to notice little things about her. The way her hand shot up the moment a question was asked. The quiet determination in her eyes as she scribbled down notes. The slight smile she gave when the professor praised her responses.

It wasn’t just that she was smart—she was confident in her knowledge, and it was infuriating.

For the first time in a long time, Jongho felt like someone was challenging him. And he didn’t like it.

The buzz around campus was electric when the exam results were finally posted on the bulletin board. Students crowded around, eagerly scanning the list of names and scores. YN was among the last to approach, her usual calm demeanor giving way to quiet excitement.

When she finally found her name at the very top of the list, her heart soared. She had done it—topped her first major exam at the new college. Her efforts, countless late nights of studying, and meticulous note-taking had paid off.

Hanni squealed in delight when she saw the results. “YN! You’re at the top! I told you you’re a genius!”

YN laughed, the joy bubbling up inside her. “It’s just one exam, Hanni.”

“Doesn’t matter! You crushed it!” Hanni grinned and tugged her arm. “We’re celebrating. There’s this cute cafe nearby—my treat!”

They walked to the cafe, the chill of the winter day melting into the warmth of good company and coffee. YN felt proud, her confidence growing as Hanni hyped her up about her success.

But across campus, in a quieter corner of the library, Jongho wasn’t in such a celebratory mood.

He stared at the results list on his phone, his jaw clenched. Second place. He’d never been second. Not once. For as long as he could remember, his name had always been at the top. It was his thing—the one thing no one could take from him.

But now, there it was. YN. A name he hadn’t even bothered to remember until recently. The transfer student had dethroned him, and it stung.

Jongho closed his phone and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His mind replayed the last few weeks: her quick answers in class, the way she always seemed to know everything, her calm confidence. He had brushed it off at first, but now it was clear—she wasn’t just smart. She was better than him, at least academically.

And Jongho hated losing.

“She’s just a transfer,” he muttered to himself, trying to shake off the irritation. “It’s probably beginner’s luck.”

But the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. It wasn’t just the results—it was the way she seemed so unaffected by everything. While he was stewing in his frustration, she was probably out there celebrating, not even thinking twice about the fact that she had knocked him down.

For the first time in a long time, Jongho felt something unfamiliar—a mix of annoyance and determination. He wasn’t about to let this stand.

“Fine,” he thought, his jaw tightening. “Let’s see how long she can keep this up.”

Jongho's frustration only grew as the weeks turned into months. Every test, every quiz, every exam—YN was always at the top. It didn’t matter how much he studied or how hard he tried to reclaim his spot. Her name remained above his, and it gnawed at him.

His friends noticed the change in him.

During one of their usual hangouts, Wooyoung nudged Jongho with his elbow. “You’ve been acting weird lately. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Jongho muttered, not bothering to look up from his phone.

San leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Don’t tell me it’s about those scores again. You’re still stuck on that, aren’t you?”

“I said it’s nothing,” Jongho snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s definitely something. You’ve been sulking since those results came out. What’s the deal with her? Did she do something to you?”

Jongho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, she didn’t do anything. She just—she keeps beating me. It’s annoying.”

Yeosang, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “So what? You’re not used to competition?”

“It’s not just competition,” Jongho muttered. “It’s like…no matter what I do, she’s always one step ahead.”

The room fell silent for a moment before San shrugged. “Then maybe talk to her. Figure out what she’s doing that you’re not.”

Jongho scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, like I’m going to go up to her and ask for advice. She’s the reason I’m in this mess.”

But even as the words left his mouth, he knew San had a point. He couldn’t keep letting this get to him. If he wanted to understand why she was always on top, he’d have to confront her eventually.

Two months had passed since the first exam results, and YN’s streak hadn’t faltered. Every high score, every bit of praise from the professors only added to Jongho’s growing frustration. He’d tried ignoring it, tried telling himself it didn’t matter, but the truth was, it did.

He finally decided he couldn’t take it anymore. After class one afternoon, as the students began to trickle out of the lecture hall, Jongho stayed behind, his eyes fixed on YN as she packed her things.

She was just about to leave when he stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over her desk.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady.

YN looked up, surprised to see him standing there. “Oh, hi.”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He had spent so long stewing in his own thoughts that now, face-to-face with her, he felt unprepared.

“You’re YN, right?” he finally asked, even though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, her expression curious. “Yeah. And you’re Jongho.”

He was slightly taken aback that she knew his name, but he didn’t let it show. “We need to talk,” he said, his tone firm.

YN blinked, clearly confused. “About what?”

“About how you keep getting the highest scores,” he said bluntly. “And why you’re always ahead of me.”

Jongho froze as YN’s words echoed in his mind.

"Maybe it’s because you’re not studying enough."

She had said it so casually, so effortlessly, before slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking out of the room, leaving him standing there like a statue.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at the empty doorway. Then, something inside him snapped. A laugh escaped his lips, low and disbelieving at first, before growing louder.

When he walked out of the lecture hall and joined his friends, they immediately noticed something was off.

“Uh…why are you laughing like a maniac?” Wooyoung asked, leaning away from him as if Jongho had finally lost it.

“Did you finally crack under the pressure?” San teased, though there was genuine concern in his voice.

Jongho shook his head, the grin still lingering on his face. “She told me I don’t study enough,” he said, almost in disbelief, as if saying it out loud would make it sound less ridiculous.

Wooyoung blinked. “Wait. She said that?”

“The nerve,” San muttered, shaking his head.

Mingi, who had been quietly listening, tilted his head thoughtfully. “So…do you want us to talk to her? You know, scare her a bit? Make her think twice before pulling that again?”

Jongho’s laughter stopped abruptly. His expression hardened, and he gave Mingi a sharp look. “No.”

“No?” Wooyoung echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Jongho repeated firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not stooping to that level. I don’t need to threaten her to get what I want.”

“But she insulted you!” Wooyoung said, throwing his hands in the air.

“She didn’t insult me. She just…” Jongho paused, his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. “She got under my skin.”

Yeosang, who had been leaning against the wall silently, finally spoke. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Jongho exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to beat her.”

“Hold up man what-” San frowned.

“In the next exam,” Jongho clarified, his eyes narrowing with determination. “I’m going to study harder than I ever have, and I’m going to take that top spot back. She thinks I’m not studying enough? Fine. I’ll show her exactly what I’m capable of.”

His friends exchanged glances, a mix of curiosity and concern on their faces.

Wooyoung leaned closer to San and whispered, “I give him three days before he snaps again.”

But Jongho ignored them, his mind already racing with plans. This wasn’t just about pride anymore. It was about proving to himself—and to her—that he was the best.

When Hanni heard what YN had said to Jongho, she nearly dropped her phone in shock.

“You told Jongho—the cold, terrifying Jongho—that he doesn’t study enough?” Hanni exclaimed, pacing back and forth in YN’s dorm room. Her voice was a mix of disbelief and panic, her hands flailing in the air.

YN, sitting calmly on her bed, shrugged as she sipped her coffee. “Yeah, I did. It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Hanni stopped pacing and stared at her friend like she had grown a second head. “YN, you don’t just say that to someone like him! Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with? This is Jongho! The guy who could probably crush someone’s desk in half with his bare hands!”

YN smiled slightly, setting her cup down. “You’re exaggerating. He’s just another student, Hanni. Besides, it’s not like I insulted him. I gave him constructive criticism.”

“Constructive—YN, are you listening to yourself?!” Hanni groaned, clutching her head as if she could physically hold in her frustration. “I’m scared for you! What if he gets mad? What if his friends get involved? They’re not exactly known for handling things peacefully.”

“It’s fine,” YN said, her tone steady. “I don’t think he’s the type to do anything rash over something like this. He seems too...proud for that.”

“Proud?” Hanni snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.”

YN chuckled softly, leaning back against her pillows. “Look, Hanni, I appreciate you worrying about me, but it’s not a big deal. He’ll get over it. If anything, maybe it’ll motivate him to work harder.”

Hanni sat down heavily on the edge of YN’s bed, her arms crossed. “I hope you’re right. But if he so much as looks at you funny, I’m grabbing your hand and running for the hills. Got it?”

YN laughed, nudging her friend’s shoulder. “Got it. But trust me, I can handle myself.”

Hanni gave her a wary look but eventually sighed in defeat. “You’re way too calm about this. I don’t know whether to admire you or scream at you.”

YN just smiled, her confidence unwavering. Little did she know, Jongho wasn’t the type to let something like this go unnoticed—and he had no intention of backing down.

Jongho's determination was like a fire, burning through his focus as he buried himself in his books for weeks leading up to the next exam. He studied longer, harder—pushing his limits. He felt the tension, the pressure building in his chest every day. The thought of losing to YN again fueled his resolve. This time, he would prove he was the best.

But when the results came in, his stomach sank.

There it was again—YN's name at the top. Not his.

He clenched his jaw, staring at the paper with frustration boiling inside him. He had done everything right. He had pushed himself to the breaking point. And yet, once again, she had beaten him.

This time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t just about pride. Jongho could feel something snapping inside him, the pressure and disappointment manifesting as a tight ball of anger in his chest.

That day in class, he couldn’t focus. The words the professor spoke seemed distant and irrelevant, his mind consumed by the crushing weight of defeat. As he stared at the floor, barely registering the lecture, one of his classmates—someone who had clearly noticed his mood—decided to test him.

The guy leaned over and smirked, a sharp edge to his tone. "So, Jongho, how does it feel to be second to a girl? Maybe you should quit studying and leave it to the real people, huh?"

The words hit Jongho like a punch to the gut.

Before he could even think, he stood up, his chair scraping violently against the floor. His hands balled into fists. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. The guy barely had time to react before Jongho stood up, took the guy's phone, slammed it to the ground, and crushed it under his boot.

The silence in the classroom was deafening.

But it wasn’t over.

Once class was dismissed, Jongho stormed out of the building, his anger blinding him. He found the guy outside, lurking near the campus gates, laughing to his friends about how "easy" it was to get under Jongho’s skin.

Jongho didn’t hesitate. He charged at the guy, grabbing him by the throat and pushing him against the nearest wall. The punches came fast and brutal, each one landing with a sickening thud.

The guy didn’t stand a chance.

It wasn’t until he was gasping for breath, barely conscious, that Jongho stopped. His knuckles were bloody, his anger slowly subsiding as the reality of what he had done set in.

When word of the fight spread through campus, it didn’t take long for YN to hear about it.

She had been in the library when a group of students started whispering, talking about how Jongho had beaten up some guy for talking trash about him. Her stomach twisted, and an unease settled in her chest.

The image of the cold, calculating Jongho she had always seen in class—silent, intense, and distant—was nothing compared to the picture that now formed in her mind. The guy had provoked him, sure, but it didn’t make the violence any less jarring.

That night, as she walked back to her dorm, her mind was racing. Jongho had never struck her as the violent type, but now she wasn’t so sure. The thought of him losing control scared her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

YN leaned against the door of her room, her hand lingering on the knob. She wanted to shake the unease off, tell herself it was just a one-off thing. But a part of her couldn’t stop wondering what else lay beneath the surface of his cold exterior.

For the first time, she was genuinely afraid.

And as she lay in bed that night, trying to push the thoughts away, one question lingered in her mind: What would happen if he ever lost control around her?

The tension between YN and Jongho had been building for weeks, and it finally reached a boiling point. The news of the fight still fresh in YN's mind, she couldn't shake the unease every time she saw Jongho. His cold, imposing presence was something she'd learned to ignore—until now.

It was an ordinary afternoon when she walked through the halls, lost in thought, heading to her next class. The campus was quieter than usual, most students already in their lecture halls. As she turned down a less-traveled corridor, she froze. Jongho stood at the far end, his broad frame blocking the only way out.

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her with that unreadable expression. YN’s heart rate quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. She could feel the familiar tension rising in her chest, the uneasy flutter of anxiety that crept in whenever she had to face him. But this time, it felt different. She could sense that something had shifted.

She instinctively took a step back, her back pressing against the cold wall. Jongho’s eyes flickered for a moment, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a scowl. He started walking toward her, each step deliberate, the weight of his presence sending a chill down her spine.

"You really think you're better than me, huh?" Jongho's voice was low, almost menacing. His height loomed over her as he stopped just inches away, trapping her between his muscular frame and the wall.

YN’s breath caught in her throat, but she held her ground. Her legs were tense, her mind racing for a way to escape this moment. "I didn’t say that," she replied, her voice shaky but firm. "I just did my best. It’s not my fault you can’t handle it."

Jongho’s eyes darkened, his arms leaning on the wall beside her, the air between them thick with a charged tension. "You think it’s just about scores?" he growled. "You think I care about that little competition? You’re making me look weak, YN. And I don’t like that."

YN's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her fear and anger mixing into a potent cocktail. I have to stand my ground, she thought. I can't let him intimidate me like this.

"You don't scare me, Jongho," she said, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. Her words were quieter than she wanted, but there was strength behind them. "If you have a problem with me, then deal with it without resorting to violence."

The moment she said it, Jongho’s smirk widened, a flash of something darker crossing his features. "Oh, but I do have a problem with you. You think you can just waltz in here and take what’s mine, huh? You think you're better than me because you’re smarter? You think you can just walk around untouched?"

YN’s breath quickened as she realized how cornered she truly was. She had thought she could handle him, but now, with him standing so close, all she could feel was the overwhelming presence of his body. The intimidating way he leaned into her personal space, his arms just above her shoulders, blocking any escape.

"I’m not afraid of you," she said again, though she could feel the doubt creeping in. She was scared—terrified, even—but she refused to let him see that.

Jongho leaned in closer, his face hovering just inches from hers. "You should be," he whispered. "You’ve made me look like a fool twice now. You’ve gone and crossed a line, YN."

For a split second, she could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Was he going to hurt her? Was he finally going to break the calm facade he always wore? But before she could react, something in him shifted, and his grip loosened just slightly.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to leave her with a sliver of space. The tension didn’t fully dissolve, but it was a temporary reprieve.

The silence between them was thick, each of them locked in their own thoughts. YN’s mind was racing. What just happened? She had stood up to him, but had it been enough? Would he let this go, or would this feud only escalate?

Jongho finally straightened up, casting one last look at her. "You’re not getting away with this, you know," he muttered before turning and walking away.

YN let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her legs were trembling, but she stood tall, refusing to let herself appear weak in front of him.

This was only the beginning. She knew that now. The rivalry between them had officially begun, and it would take everything she had to survive it.

The tension between YN and Jongho simmered beneath the surface, manifesting in small, irritating ways at first. It started with the little things—her pens went missing, her notes rearranged in ways that made no sense, and every now and then, she’d find her books out of order. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, or maybe even her own forgetfulness. But the longer it went on, the more she began to suspect that it wasn’t just random.

Then, one day, she was walking between classes when one of Jongho’s friends—Mingi, she recognized him from class—deliberately bumped into her, causing her to drop her bag and its contents. Papers scattered across the hallway, and YN scrambled to collect them, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Oops, sorry,” Mingi said, his tone dripping with false sweetness, though his grin said otherwise.

YN said nothing, biting her lip and standing up straight, trying to keep her composure. She quickly gathered her things, but as she bent down to pick up the last few papers, she saw the same smirk on his face, as if he were enjoying the scene.

It was deliberate, she thought, clenching her jaw as she stood up.

She could feel his gaze still on her as she gathered the rest of her things in silence. But she didn’t let it show—she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. When she walked away, she could sense his eyes lingering, but she kept her head high.

The following week, she arrived in class to find her desk had been vandalized. Not in a big, obvious way, but enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth. There were scribbles in the margins of her textbooks—crude drawings, insults, and even a few threatening words that made her skin crawl.

Jongho.

She didn’t have proof, but there was no mistaking it. She could feel his influence, like a shadow following her at every turn. And the worst part? It wasn’t just him. It was his friends, too. They were all in on it—targeting her, testing her patience, pushing her to the edge. They’d figured out how to get to her without crossing the line too far.

The final straw came one afternoon when she sat down at her desk and found her pencil case had been emptied out. It wasn’t just the pens this time; it was everything—everything scattered across the floor. When she picked up the pieces, her hands trembling, she saw a note hidden inside.

"Better luck next time, genius."

Her blood ran cold.

This time, it wasn’t just annoying. It was personal.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her fists clenching. She could take a lot of things—insults, small pranks—but this was pushing it. This was harassment.

YN’s mind raced with determination as she walked through the campus, every step firm and resolute. The pencil case incident had been the last straw. Jongho and his friends had pushed her to her limits, and she wasn’t going to let them get away with it any longer.

She had been debating it for days, but now she was certain—she had to confront him, face to face. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. Hanni had tried to stop her, pleading with her to let things go. But YN couldn’t back down. She couldn’t let herself be intimidated. Not anymore.

She entered the cafeteria with a clear purpose, scanning the room until her eyes landed on him. Jongho sat at the head of a table, surrounded by his friends, laughing and joking as if everything were normal. The sight of him made her blood boil, but she didn’t hesitate. She walked straight up to the table, her steps loud and deliberate.

When she reached the center, she slammed her hands down on the table, the sound of it echoing through the cafeteria, drawing the attention of everyone around. The chatter died down, all eyes on her. Jongho’s friends froze, surprised by the sudden boldness. YN stood there, staring at Jongho with unwavering defiance.

"Stop these pathetic games and face me like a man!" she declared, her voice strong and clear.

The room fell silent, everyone waiting for Jongho’s reaction. His friends exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to expect, while Jongho himself leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, everything felt frozen. Then, slowly, Jongho stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. His height towered over hers, and for a second, the sheer difference in their sizes was almost comical. He was a giant compared to her, and yet, there she was, standing tall and not backing down.

He studied her for a moment, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. His lips curled into that familiar, confident smirk. "So, you want me to face you, huh?" he said, his voice low but full of challenge. "Well, I guess I can give you what you want."

His friends were stunned, clearly not expecting YN to show such boldness. Some of them exchanged worried looks, while others couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

Jongho didn’t look worried, though. He stepped closer to her, his towering presence making her feel even smaller. Yet, YN stood her ground, refusing to let her fear show.

“You’re brave,” Jongho said, his voice rough, but there was something almost impressed in it. "I’ll give you that." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “But be careful what you wish for. You really want me to face you, YN? You sure about that?”

YN didn’t flinch. She locked eyes with him, her heart pounding in her chest. "I’m sure.”

For a long moment, they just stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. The tension between them was thick, palpable. It wasn’t about the score anymore, not about the pranks or the harassment—it was about proving who had the upper hand.

Finally, Jongho broke the silence. He stepped back, crossing his arms. "Alright, YN. You’ve got my attention," he said, his voice cold but not dismissive. "You wanted me to face you. So I will."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and YN’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t over. It was only just beginning. She could feel the shift in their dynamic now, the lines of the feud being drawn more clearly than ever.

His friends remained silent, watching the exchange with bated breath. Jongho didn’t seem like he was going to back down either, and YN knew this wouldn’t end easily. But for the first time in a long while, she felt empowered. She had stood up to him, and he hadn’t crushed her. That meant something.

With a final glance at Jongho, YN turned away but not before she threw one last remark over her shoulder.

"I’m not afraid of you.”

The moment YN turned to leave, feeling the adrenaline of her bold confrontation, she felt a sudden, strong grip on her wrist. Before she could react, Jongho yanked her back with ease, his hand tightening around her wrist as he dragged her out of the cafeteria.

"Hey!" YN protested, trying to pull away, but his grip was unyielding, his strength overwhelming. She tugged harder, her steps stumbling as she struggled to break free, but it was no use—Jongho was far stronger than she could have imagined.

The cafeteria had fallen silent, all eyes still on them, but Jongho’s friends were the only ones who seemed unfazed. They continued their conversation as though nothing unusual was happening. It was clear to YN now—their group operated on a different set of rules, and no one dared challenge them.

Jongho didn’t look back, his focus entirely on pulling her out of the building. "Stop resisting," he muttered, his voice low and commanding. "If you wanted to talk, you should've done it differently."

YN’s heart raced in her chest. She had expected a confrontation, but not like this. Being dragged out of the cafeteria, humiliated in front of everyone—it was more than just a challenge now. It felt like an outright power play, a move to remind her of who really held the control.

“Let go of me!” she shouted again, trying to wrench her arm from his grip, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he pulled her toward the exit, his jaw set in a hard line.

Once they were outside, the cool air hit her face, but the storm in her chest only grew stronger. She was angry, more than she had been in weeks. She had finally stood up to him, and now he was treating it like some twisted game.

Jongho stopped in the middle of the empty courtyard, releasing her wrist abruptly. YN stumbled slightly, but caught herself before she could fall. Her hand instinctively rubbed where his grip had been, the sting of it still fresh.

"That’s the problem with you," Jongho said, his voice cold, but there was an edge to it now. "You think you can just challenge me like that, without consequences? You think you can walk in here and take everything, without anyone pushing back?"

YN glared at him, her pulse still racing. "I didn’t want to take anything. I just wanted you to stop being a coward. To face me without all your games."

Jongho’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it grew more intense. "You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about you and me. This is about who owns this place. Who holds the power."

He took a step closer to her, towering over her as usual. The same sense of intimidation that had always been there was present now, but something in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper—made her pause for a second.

"What happens next, YN? You think you can win this? Because right now, you’re just poking the bear, and trust me, you don’t want to go any further." His voice was dangerously calm, like he was warning her—threatening her.

For a moment, YN’s breath caught. She had been so focused on proving herself, on standing up to him, that she hadn’t considered what would come next. She had no idea what kind of person Jongho really was, and now, facing him in this quiet courtyard, she realized just how deep the game went.

But despite the fear clawing at her chest, she wasn’t ready to back down. Not now. Not after everything she had endured.

"I’m not scared of you, Jongho," she said, her voice unwavering. "You want to play? Then let’s play. But I’m not going to let you intimidate me anymore."

Jongho stood there for a long moment, studying her as if trying to figure her out. Then, without another word, he turned and began to walk away, his back to her.

But as he reached the entrance to the building, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

"You’ll regret this," he said quietly, his voice carrying an almost unrecognizable note of warning. "You have no idea who you're dealing with.”

YN stood there, watching him go, the weight of his words sinking in. But even with that warning hanging in the air, she wasn’t going to back down. Not now.

She had made her choice. And from here on out, she would face the consequences.

The days following their confrontation marked the beginning of something far more sinister than YN had ever anticipated. What started as small pranks—missing books, random notes, pens vanishing from her desk—soon escalated into something far more calculated. Jongho wasn’t just trying to annoy her anymore. Now, it was as if he were playing a psychological game with her, testing her limits, breaking her down bit by bit.

At first, it was subtle. During class, Jongho would sit behind her and drop her textbooks just enough to cause a distraction, so she’d lose her focus. When she turned around, he’d act like it was an accident, offering a lazy apology that barely sounded sincere. The worst part was, he didn’t stop when she asked him to. Instead, the “accidents” seemed to happen more frequently, each one wearing her down, bit by bit.

Then came the whispers. At lunch, when YN walked into the cafeteria, she’d overhear Jongho’s friends whispering just loud enough for her to catch snippets of conversation. They’d talk about her in the most degrading way, not even bothering to hide it, knowing she could hear. She’d try to ignore them, but every word they said lingered in her mind. They called her a nerd, mocked her for thinking she could take on Jongho. But what stung the most was when they started to question her sanity, insinuating that she was unstable, that maybe she was imagining things.

The insults didn’t end there. As days passed, YN would arrive at her locker to find it had been vandalized again—her carefully written notes defaced with sarcastic messages, her books covered in nonsensical drawings, and sometimes, there would be personal remarks, comments that hit too close to home.

She was starting to feel it—the isolation. The feeling that she was being targeted by something darker than just school pranks. Every time she walked into class, she could feel eyes on her. Jongho’s eyes. He had made it clear that he enjoyed the game, that he enjoyed seeing her squirm.

But what was worse was how it started to affect her. She’d find herself unable to concentrate in class, the constant weight of his presence in the background. She started second-guessing her every move, wondering if her classmates could see the cracks forming in her façade. Her hands trembled when she reached for her books, and she found herself waking up in the middle of the night, heart racing, thinking she’d heard footsteps outside her door, as if he was watching her even when she wasn’t at school.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal round of pranks in class, YN was heading to the library to get some quiet time. But as she turned the corner, she froze. Jongho was leaning against the wall, blocking her way. His usual smirk was replaced with something darker, a glint in his eyes that sent a chill down her spine.

"Thought you could escape?" he said softly, the words hanging in the air like a threat. "You’re mine now, YN. You’re not going to get away from me that easily." His tone was low, but there was a certainty to it, a finality that made her stomach twist.

She took a step back, trying to ignore the panic rising in her chest. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice shaky despite her best efforts to remain calm.

Jongho pushed off the wall and walked toward her slowly, his steps measured. "I want you to understand who’s in control," he said, his voice quiet but full of malice. "You don’t get to come in here, challenge me, and expect it to end like a fairy tale. You want to keep playing? Fine. But you better be prepared to lose. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you."

Her heart raced as he took another step forward, his presence looming over her. There was no escape, no way to fight back. He had already won in ways she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. She stood frozen, a mix of fear and anger coursing through her veins.

She didn’t say anything more as Jongho turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with her heart pounding in her chest. The quiet moments after he left felt more oppressive than any of the pranks or insults he’d thrown her way. She could feel the weight of his words settling on her, knowing that he had marked her as his target, and there would be no way to avoid his wrath.

Jongho was playing a game, but this time, it wasn’t just about winning or losing. It was about control—and he was determined to make YN realize just how powerless she truly was.

The day had come. YN could feel herself on the edge, the constant psychological torment, the pranks, the whispers, the humiliation—it had all built up to this moment. Her hands shook slightly as she sat in class, trying to focus on the lecture, but her mind was clouded with frustration. She had been walking around with a constant knot in her stomach for weeks, dreading every moment she stepped into class, every glance that was thrown her way.

Jongho had been especially persistent that day. The moment she sat down, he was there, taking his usual seat behind her. His presence felt like a weight pressing down on her, and she could almost feel his eyes on her back, waiting for the perfect moment to start.

Then, it happened. Just like every other time, he shook her desk, hard enough to make her papers tremble and her drink teeter dangerously on the edge. But this time, something inside her snapped.

Her hand gripped the cup tighter than she realized, the warmth of the coffee almost burning her palm, but it didn’t matter. In one swift motion, she turned around and dumped the entire contents of her coffee on Jongho’s desk. The liquid splashed across his notes, seeping into the wood and staining everything in its path. The room went completely silent.

Jongho froze, his expression blank for a moment, as the coffee soaked into his things. The other students in the class watched in shock, unsure of how to react. YN's breath was coming fast and ragged, her heart racing in her chest. She had done it. She had finally snapped.

Jongho’s face twisted in anger, but there was something else in his eyes—surprise, maybe even a flicker of respect. He looked up at her, his jaw clenched.

“You think this is funny?” he growled, his voice low, dark with frustration.

But YN didn’t flinch. She didn’t back down. The tension in the room was palpable, but for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of control. Her voice came out calm, but her eyes were fiery.

“Do you think this is funny, Jongho?” she shot back, her words sharp like daggers. “Do you think it’s funny what you’ve been doing to me all this time? The pranks, the insults, the mind games? You think I’m just going to sit here and take it? Well, I’m done.”

The class was dead silent, no one daring to speak. Jongho didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up, towering over her. His friends, who had been silent spectators until now, shifted uneasily in their seats, glancing at each other.

"You’re really testing me now, YN," Jongho said, his voice controlled but filled with an edge that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "You think this is the end of it? You think dumping coffee on my desk will make me back off?"

YN stood her ground, her posture strong, though inside she could feel a storm brewing. “Maybe it won’t make you back off, but it’ll make you think twice. You’re not invincible, Jongho. And I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

He stared at her for a long moment, the anger and frustration in his gaze palpable, before he finally spoke again, his voice low but cold.

"Don’t think this is over," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You just made it worse for yourself."

But YN didn’t care anymore. She had finally spoken up, finally taken a stand. For the first time, she wasn’t the quiet, submissive girl she had been before. She had fought back, and even though she knew things were far from over, a small part of her felt empowered.

As Jongho turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, YN stayed seated for a moment, her heart still racing. She didn’t know what was coming next, but she knew one thing for sure: she wouldn’t let him control her anymore. She had drawn a line in the sand, and this time, she wasn’t going to let him cross it.

As YN and Jongho stood there, the tension between them thickening with every word exchanged, neither of them willing to back down, the professor’s voice cut through the silence like a sharp knife.

"Enough," the professor said, standing up from behind the desk. "Both of you, stay after class. You're clearly not focused on the lesson, so you're going to stay behind and finish your homework together. You’ll leave once you both complete it. Understood?"

The class seemed to hold its collective breath, eyes darting between the two of them. The professor’s order caught both YN and Jongho off guard, but neither could afford to challenge it. Both were still seething from their confrontation, their tempers flaring, but the professor had made it clear that there would be consequences if they didn’t comply.

Jongho shot YN one last, heated look, his jaw clenched tightly, before muttering under his breath, "This isn’t over."

YN didn't bother to respond. She was too exhausted, emotionally and mentally, to keep fighting. Instead, she gathered her things quickly and retook her seat, ignoring the whispers that started circulating through the room. Jongho, reluctantly, sat down beside her, though the air between them was still thick with animosity.

The professor, seemingly unfazed by the tension between the two students, resumed the lesson, but the entire class was distracted by the palpable conflict unfolding before them. Time dragged on as YN tried to focus on her work, her hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline that still buzzed in her veins. Her eyes kept darting toward Jongho, who was scribbling furiously in his notebook, as though the homework could somehow take his mind off the encounter.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, but the professor gestured for them both to stay. The students filed out of the room, leaving just the two of them alone, and the silence between YN and Jongho grew even more awkward. Neither of them spoke as they began working on the homework, the atmosphere charged with tension.

For the first few minutes, it was clear that neither was ready to engage in any form of conversation. YN focused on her paper, trying to ignore the weight of Jongho's presence beside her. But every now and then, she felt the heat of his gaze, the intensity of it making her skin prickle. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was still watching her, trying to figure out what she would do next.

Eventually, the silence became unbearable. Jongho broke it, his voice low but dripping with frustration.

"This is your fault, you know," he muttered, his pen tapping against the desk in agitation. "If you hadn’t made a scene, none of this would’ve happened."

YN didn’t look up from her paper, her focus unwavering. She had long stopped caring about his blame. "I didn’t make a scene. You pushed me to it. I didn’t ask for this," she shot back, her voice steady but edged with annoyance.

Jongho let out a low, frustrated growl. "You think I care about your excuses?" he snapped. "You think I won’t make you regret this?"

YN met his gaze, her own expression hardening. "I’m done with you trying to make me regret everything I do. You don’t scare me, Jongho."

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension crackling between them like electricity. It was clear that neither of them had the intention of backing down, but there was something else, too—something unspoken, a shift that neither could quite understand.

Jongho let out a deep breath, finally turning back to his homework. The air between them wasn’t any less tense, but at least it was quiet now, with both of them trying to get through the task at hand.

Time dragged on, and the silence remained. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, YN finished her homework. She stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, and started to gather her things.

"Done," she said curtly, not bothering to look at him as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

Jongho followed suit, packing up his things, but his movements were stiff, like he was still holding something back. He didn’t say anything as YN turned to leave, but she could feel his gaze burning into her back.

"See you around, YN," he said, his tone low, a challenge lingering in his words.

YN paused at the door, her hand on the handle. She turned to face him, her expression cold but firm. "You’ll never get me to back down, Jongho," she said, her voice steady. "And one day, you’ll realize that."

Without another word, she stepped out into the hallway, leaving Jongho standing there, his fists clenched at his sides, trying to understand the weight of her words. The conflict between them was far from over, but somehow, YN felt like she had taken a small step toward taking back control. She didn’t know what would happen next, but for the first time, she felt like she could face whatever came her way.

After that tense punishment session, YN made a firm decision—she was done engaging with Jongho. She’d had enough of his games, his constant attempts to rattle her, and the exhausting back-and-forth that seemed to follow them everywhere. From that day forward, she resolved to ignore him completely.

She wouldn’t look at him during class. If she felt his gaze on her, she’d keep her head down and focus on her notes. If his friends tried to whisper snide remarks as she passed by, she’d pretend not to hear. She even started taking different routes to her classes to avoid crossing paths with him altogether.

At first, it seemed to work. Jongho didn’t immediately escalate things, and YN began to feel a small sense of relief. Hanni noticed the change too and encouraged her to keep at it.

“It’s the best way to deal with guys like him,” Hanni said one afternoon as they studied together in the library. “They thrive on attention. If you don’t give him any, he’ll eventually get bored and move on.”

YN nodded, determined to stick to her plan. She was finally starting to feel like she could breathe again, even if the occasional encounter with Jongho still made her stomach twist.

But, of course, Jongho noticed.

At first, he thought her silence was just a phase, a temporary retreat before she would come back swinging. But as days turned into weeks, he realized she was serious. She wasn’t reacting to him at all. No glares, no comebacks, no confrontations. It was like he didn’t exist to her anymore.

And it infuriated him.

In class, he’d purposely drop his pen near her desk, just to see if she’d flinch. She didn’t. He’d make loud remarks to his friends, knowing she could hear, but she never looked his way. Even during group projects, when they were forced to interact, she kept her responses curt and professional, refusing to engage in any unnecessary conversation.

The more she ignored him, the more it ate at him. Jongho wasn’t used to being dismissed like this. People either feared him, admired him, or tried to stay on his good side. But YN? She acted like he didn’t even matter.

One day, during a particularly dull lecture, Jongho found himself staring at her from across the room. She was diligently taking notes, her brow furrowed in concentration. Something about her calm, focused demeanor made his irritation bubble to the surface. How could she be so unaffected?

After class, as YN packed up her things, Jongho lingered by the door, waiting for her to leave. When she finally stepped into the hallway, he fell into step beside her, his presence impossible to ignore.

“You think ignoring me is going to make me stop?” he asked, his tone low and almost teasing.

YN didn’t even glance at him. “I don’t care what you do, Jongho. Do whatever you want. It doesn’t concern me anymore.”

As YN took a step to walk away, Jongho’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist—not harshly, but firm enough to stop her in her tracks. She froze, her eyes darting to where his fingers wrapped around her wrist before snapping up to meet his gaze.

“What is it now?” she asked sharply, her voice tinged with exasperation. “I talk to you, you make my life miserable. I ignore you, and now you’re bothering me again. What do you want from me, Jongho?”

Her words hung in the air, cutting through the bustling noise of students in the hallway. Jongho didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he stared at her. For a moment, it seemed like he was struggling to find the right words, his usual confidence faltering.

“I…” he started, but then stopped, his frustration evident. He released her wrist, running a hand through his hair as if trying to compose himself.

“You’re so irritating,” he finally said, his tone low but not as sharp as usual.

YN blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected response. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice growing more frustrated. “You’re irritating. You come in here, acting like you’re better than everyone—"

“I never acted like that!” YN cut him off, her voice rising. “All I’ve done is mind my own business and try to survive in this place. You’re the one who decided to make me your target. And for what? Because I’m smarter than you? Because I beat you on a few exams? Get over it, Jongho!”

Her words hit him like a slap, and for a moment, Jongho just stared at her, his lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t back down, her chest rising and falling with anger, her gaze steady and unwavering.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

“Then explain it to me,” YN snapped, crossing her arms. “Because I’ve had enough of your nonsense. If you’ve got something to say, just say it already.”

Jongho looked at her, his expression unreadable. His usual arrogance seemed to waver, replaced by something more vulnerable, though he masked it quickly.

“You’re the first person who’s ever beaten me,” he said finally, his voice quieter than she expected. “I’ve always been at the top, always been the one everyone looked up to. And then you show up, and suddenly… I’m not.”

YN blinked, her anger softening just slightly. She hadn’t expected him to admit that, least of all to her.

“That’s what this is about?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “Your ego?”

Jongho’s jaw clenched, and he looked away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I do understand,” YN said, her voice firm but calmer now. “You’re used to being the best, and when you’re not, you don’t know how to handle it. But that doesn’t give you the right to make my life hell. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, just like you. If you have a problem with me, deal with it in a healthy way. Compete with me in class, not by… whatever this is.”

Her words seemed to strike a chord, and for the first time, Jongho didn’t have a retort. He just stood there, staring at her, his expression unreadable.

“Are we done here?” YN asked after a moment, her voice steady but tinged with exhaustion.

Jongho hesitated, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“Fine,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away.

Jongho watched her go, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. For the first time, he felt… uncertain. He couldn’t explain it, but something about her words lingered, gnawing at him in a way that nothing ever had before.

Jongho sat with his friends at their usual spot in the cafeteria, poking at his food absentmindedly. The others were chatting and laughing, but his brooding silence didn’t go unnoticed.

Wooyoung was the first to comment, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Alright, spill it. What’s got you looking like someone stole your protein powder, Jongho?”

“Yeah,” Mingi chimed in, stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth. “You’ve been weird lately. Is it because of that girl again?”

At the mention of YN, Jongho’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look up, but his grip on his fork visibly tensed.

San raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s definitely about her. The way you keep glaring at her during class could set fire to her notebook.”

“Shut up,” Jongho muttered, shoving a piece of food into his mouth to avoid saying anything more.

But his friends weren’t about to let it go.

“It’s not healthy, man,” Yunho said, leaning forward with a concerned look. “You’re obsessed. Every time she walks into a room, you lose your mind. What’s the deal?”

Jongho finally looked up, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Everything about her bothers me,” he said sharply. “The way she talks, the way she’s always so perfect in class, the way she acts like she doesn’t care about anything—”

“Or the way she beat you?” Seonghwa interjected calmly, raising an eyebrow.

Jongho shot him a glare but didn’t respond.

“Sounds personal,” Wooyoung teased, grinning mischievously. “Are you sure this isn’t just… you know, a crush?”

The table fell silent for a moment, and Jongho froze, his expression caught somewhere between shock and denial. “What?” he said, his tone sharp.

“You heard him,” Hongjoong said, smirking slightly. “All this energy you’re putting into her… are you sure it’s not something else?”

“No,” Jongho said immediately, his voice firm. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” San asked, leaning his chin on his hand. “I mean, it’s classic, isn’t it? The whole ‘I can’t stand her, but I can’t stop thinking about her’ thing. Sounds like a crush to me.”

“I don’t like her,” Jongho snapped, his ears tinging red. “She’s annoying, and she thinks she’s better than everyone else. That’s all.”

His friends exchanged knowing looks, clearly unconvinced.

“Whatever you say,” Wooyoung said with a shrug, his grin widening. “But I’ve seen this before. Denial is step one.”

“Step two is overcompensating,” Mingi added with a laugh.

“And step three,” Yeosang said smoothly, “is realizing you’ve been an idiot the whole time.”

Jongho scowled, shoving his chair back and standing up. “You’re all delusional. There’s nothing going on.”

He grabbed his tray and stormed off, leaving his friends laughing behind him.

But as he walked away, his thoughts betrayed him. Their words replayed in his mind, and for the first time, he wondered if there was a kernel of truth in what they said. No, he told himself firmly. It’s not that. It can’t be.

Still, the idea lingered, unsettling him in a way he couldn’t quite shake.

The next day, Jongho walked into college with a heavy sense of unease. His friends’ words from the day before replayed in his mind like an annoying song he couldn’t shake. A crush? On her? The idea was absurd—laughable even. There was no way that was true.

Yet, as he walked into the classroom and his eyes instinctively searched for her, he felt a strange tightness in his chest when he saw her sitting at her desk, completely focused on her notes. She was chewing on the end of her pen, her brows slightly furrowed, clearly deep in thought.

Jongho shook his head and looked away. No. Absolutely not.

But throughout the lecture, he found his gaze drifting back to her, no matter how hard he tried to stop himself. He told himself he was just observing her—nothing more. But every time she raised her hand to answer a question or leaned over to highlight something in her book, he found himself questioning his own thoughts.

Why am I looking at her? Why does it bother me that she doesn’t even glance in my direction anymore?

He denied it over and over. It’s not that. I’m just annoyed with her. That’s all. She’s competition, and I don’t like losing. That’s it.

But then, during a group discussion, she laughed at something one of her friends said, and Jongho froze. It wasn’t loud or attention-grabbing, but something about the way her face lit up made him stop and stare for just a second too long. His chest felt… weird.

He immediately snapped his head down to his notebook, gripping his pen tightly. No. No way.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but the thought refused to leave his mind. Every time he saw her—whether in class, in the hallway, or even at lunch—his brain kept returning to the same annoying question: Why do I care so much?

By the time the final bell rang, Jongho was more frustrated with himself than he’d ever been. He stormed out of the building, ignoring his friends’ calls, and headed straight to the gym. He needed to work off this confusion, to get his head back in the game.

But even as he threw punches at the bag, the image of her wouldn’t leave his mind. Her voice, her laugh, her determination—it all haunted him.

And as much as he tried to deny it, a small, nagging voice in the back of his head whispered the truth he didn’t want to hear.

Maybe his friends were right.

The evening was calm as YN sat across from Hanni in their favorite cafe, sipping on iced coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. The warm ambiance of the cafe felt like a comforting bubble where YN could momentarily forget about the chaos that had become her college life.

As they wrapped up their time together, Hanni gave her a playful warning. "Don’t overthink things, okay? And if that Jongho guy gives you trouble again, call me. I’ll—well, I can’t fight, but I’ll be there for moral support."

YN laughed. “Thanks, Hanni. I think I’ll be fine.”

She hailed a cab outside the cafe and slid into the backseat, giving the driver her address. The night was cool, the faint hum of the city filling the silence as the cab moved through traffic. YN rested her head against the window, her thoughts wandering as the streetlights blurred into streaks of gold.

At a red light, the cab came to a halt. Absentmindedly, she glanced out the window, her eyes tracing the silhouettes of vehicles and pedestrians passing by. Then, her gaze locked on a sleek black motorcycle that pulled up beside her.

The bike was spotless, its polished surface gleaming under the streetlights. The rider wore an all-black outfit—leather jacket, gloves, and boots—and a black helmet that seemed to swallow the light. His presence was almost magnetic, drawing her attention without effort.

And then, as if he could feel her gaze, the rider tilted his head slightly in her direction. He reached up and flipped open the visor of his helmet.

Her breath hitched.

All she could see were his eyes, but that alone was enough to captivate her. They were sharp, intense, and utterly mesmerizing, framed by long lashes that made them look almost unreal. The dim glow of the streetlights reflected in his dark irises, giving them an almost smoldering effect. It was a gaze that carried an effortless power, like he didn’t need to say a word to command attention.

It took her a moment to realize she recognized those eyes.

Jongho.

Her heart skipped a beat. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, but the weight of his stare was enough to send a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t hostile or challenging like she was used to; it was unreadable, calm, yet undeniably strong.

She couldn’t look away.

The light turned green, and the cab started moving again, breaking the spell. YN turned her head back toward the window, her mind racing. She could still feel his gaze lingering even as the cab sped away.

What was he doing out here? Why was he on that bike? And why, of all things, did the memory of his eyes make her cheeks burn?

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thoughts. It’s just Jongho. Stop overthinking it, YN.

But deep down, she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake the image of him so easily.

The lecture hall buzzed with excitement as the professor announced the group assignment. "Alright, everyone! Pair up into groups of two for this project. You’ll be working together for the next two weeks, so choose wisely."

YN sat up straighter in her seat, mentally scanning the room for Hanni or anyone else she could team up with. She had barely turned her head to search when someone pulled the chair next to hers with an air of finality.

She glanced over, and her stomach flipped. Jongho.

Without so much as a greeting, he dropped his bag on the desk and leaned back in his chair. "I’m your partner," he said, his tone making it clear it wasn’t up for debate.

YN blinked at him, startled. "You didn’t even ask me. What if I already had a partner?"

He raised an eyebrow, his expression indifferent. "You don’t."

Her jaw dropped slightly. "And how do you know that?"

Jongho shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. "Because I got here first. Problem?"

YN’s fingers tightened around her pen. His confidence was maddening, the way he acted as if he had every right to make decisions for her. "Actually, yes, I do have a problem," she shot back.

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Too bad. We’re already partners. Let’s just get this over with."

YN stared at him, torn between frustration and disbelief. Of all people, why did he have to be the one to claim her as his partner?

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Fine. But don’t think you can just boss me around, Jongho."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and almost teasing. "Wouldn’t dream of it," he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

As the professor continued explaining the assignment, YN couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He sat there, completely relaxed, as if he hadn’t just bulldozed his way into her plans.

Two weeks with him, she thought, resisting the urge to groan. This was going to be a long project.

As the lecture ended and the other pairs started discussing their plans, Jongho turned to YN, his expression as composed and commanding as ever.

"We’ll get started this weekend," he said, packing up his things. "Meet me outside campus. I’ll take you to my place."

YN blinked at him, confused. "Your place?"

"Yeah," he said matter-of-factly. "You live in the dorms, right? Too cramped to work there. My place is better."

She hesitated, her instincts screaming that this was a bad idea. "Wait… how am I supposed to get there?"

Jongho slung his bag over his shoulder, looking at her like the answer was obvious. "I’ll take you on my bike."

Her eyes widened. "Your bike? No way."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by her protest. "What’s the problem?"

"The problem," she said, crossing her arms, "is that you’re probably going to crash it on purpose just to mess with me."

At that, Jongho actually laughed—a low, deep sound that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. "Seriously? You think I’d risk my bike just to scare you?"

"Yes," she said flatly.

He smirked, leaning slightly closer. "I’m not crashing my bike, YN. Trust me, I take care of it better than I take care of myself."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can just take a cab or something."

Jongho shook his head, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Cabs take too long. Besides, this way, I know you’ll actually show up."

YN frowned, feeling cornered. She hated how he always had a way of making her feel like she didn’t have a choice. "I don’t even like bikes," she mumbled.

"Then it’s about time you got used to them," he said with a smirk. "I’ll pick you up Saturday at noon. Don’t be late."

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing there, staring after him in disbelief.

As much as she wanted to refuse, she knew Jongho wouldn’t take no for an answer. She sighed, already dreading the weekend. This is going to be a nightmare.

Saturday rolled around, and YN begrudgingly got ready for the day. She decided to keep it casual but cute, pairing a skirt with a cozy sweater and boots. She knew Jongho would probably make some snarky comment no matter what she wore, but she didn’t care.

When she walked out to the dorm entrance, there he was—leaning against his sleek black bike, arms crossed, looking effortlessly intimidating. His leather jacket fit perfectly, and the helmet tucked under his arm completed the look.

Jongho’s eyes scanned her from head to toe, and before she could say anything, he raised an eyebrow. "Are you really wearing that skirt?"

YN frowned, her hands going to her hips. "What’s that supposed to mean? Are you shitting on my fashion choices now?"

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "No, it’s not that. But if you want your skirt to ride up every time we hit a bump and your legs to freeze in the wind, then go ahead. Your choice."

She blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. "Oh, how cute," she said sarcastically. "You’re looking out for me now?"

Jongho smirked, leaning slightly closer. "Don’t get the wrong idea. I just don’t want to deal with you whining the whole ride."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Fine, fine. I’ll change. You’re so thoughtful," she added with a dramatic flair of sarcasm before turning to head back inside.

As she walked back to her room, she muttered to herself. He really has a way of ruining a perfectly good morning.

As YN walked back out in her new outfit, Jongho was already waiting, his fingers tapping idly against his helmet. When he saw her, he wordlessly handed her a second helmet.

"Put it on," he said curtly.

She took it with a slight glare and slid it over her head, fumbling with the straps under her chin. It wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, and she struggled to fasten it securely.

Jongho tsked, stepping closer. "You’re hopeless," he muttered, reaching out to fix it himself. His fingers worked deftly, fastening the hook with ease. YN stood frozen as he worked, her cheeks warming at the proximity.

"There," he said, stepping back and grabbing his own helmet. "Try not to mess it up."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Jongho climbed onto the bike, motioning for her to get on. Reluctantly, she swung her leg over and settled onto the seat behind him. The bike rumbled beneath them, the vibrations already making her nervous.

"Hold on," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"No, thanks," she replied stiffly, gripping the edges of her seat instead.

Jongho chuckled darkly. "Suit yourself."

Before she could react, he revved the engine, and the bike lurched forward. YN yelped, her hands instinctively flying to his waist as the sudden acceleration caught her off guard.

"Thought so," Jongho said smugly, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.

"Shut up!" she yelled back, her grip tightening as they sped down the street.

The wind whipped past them, and YN had no choice but to hold onto him as they weaved through the city. Despite her earlier reluctance, she couldn’t deny that the ride was thrilling—though she’d never admit that to Jongho.

As they rode on, she felt a mix of frustration and something she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, she chalked it up to the adrenaline. For now, she just wanted the ride to end without incident.

The bike came to a smooth stop in front of an upscale apartment complex. YN’s eyes widened as she took in the towering building, its modern design complete with sleek glass panels and a luxurious entrance. It was easily one of the nicest places she’d ever seen.

"You live here?" she blurted out as she climbed off the bike, staring up at the building in disbelief.

Jongho removed his helmet, shaking out his hair as he turned to her. "Yeah. Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, still gawking. "How can you afford a place like this at your age? Are you secretly some kind of heir or something?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

YN rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but feel even more intrigued. She followed him as he led the way to the entrance, her curiosity growing with every step.

The lobby was just as impressive as the exterior—polished floors, tasteful decor, and a front desk manned by a professional-looking concierge. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing around, taking it all in.

"This is… insane," she muttered under her breath.

Jongho glanced over his shoulder, his smirk still firmly in place. "You coming, or are you just going to stand there gawking?"

She shot him a glare and hurried to catch up, determined not to let him get under her skin any more than he already had. But as they stepped into the elevator and ascended to his floor, she couldn’t help but wonder just how much she didn’t know about him.

As the door to Jongho’s apartment swung open, YN stepped inside and took a moment to take everything in. The interior was sleek and minimalistic, with a predominantly black and gray color scheme. There was gym equipment neatly set up in one corner, a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a couch that looked both comfortable and expensive. The only thing that stood out amidst the masculine decor was a small potted plant on the windowsill and a couple of oddly cute figurines on the shelf.

"This is so… you," YN said, her voice filled with curiosity as she walked further in, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the sleek black counter in the kitchen. "Gym equipment in the living room, all black interiors, and—wait, are those little figurines?"

Jongho leaned against the doorframe, watching her as she explored his space. "Don’t touch those," he said, his voice calm but firm.

"Relax," she said, giving him a playful glance. "I’m just looking."

Her curiosity and the way she looked at everything with awe made Jongho pause. His arms were crossed, but his gaze softened as he observed her. There was something about the way she moved—so full of energy, yet grounded—that made it hard for him to look away.

He caught himself staring and frowned slightly. What is wrong with me? he thought.

His mind wandered to his friends' teasing words from before. Did he actually like her, or was she just annoyingly cute today? The way she had stood up to him earlier, the way she looked at him with fire in her eyes, and now the way her curiosity lit up his apartment like she belonged there—everything about her was throwing him off.

YN turned around, catching him looking at her. "What?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Nothing," Jongho muttered, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Are you done looking around, or are we actually going to work on this project?"

She raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. "I don’t know… maybe I should take a closer look at those figurines."

"Don’t even think about it," he warned, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

As she laughed and turned back to the desk he had cleared for their work, Jongho found himself wondering just how long he could keep denying whatever it was he was feeling.

As they sat down at the desk to start their project, Jongho found himself unexpectedly captivated by YN. At first, he had been irritated by her sharp tongue and unrelenting determination to beat him at everything. But now, as she leaned over the papers, her brows furrowed in concentration, he noticed the small things—how her hair framed her face, the way her lips pursed as she thought, and how her intelligence shone through every word she spoke.

She was explaining something about their topic, her voice steady and confident. He nodded along, but his focus wasn’t on the words—it was on her.

She’s not just smart, he thought to himself. She’s… beautiful.

He didn’t even realize he was staring until YN looked up, catching his gaze.

"Jongho?" she asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you even listening?"

He blinked, quickly snapping out of his thoughts. "Yeah, of course. You were saying… something about this part of the project?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but let it slide. "Right… anyway, we’ll need to gather some more sources for this section."

As the hours went on, Jongho found himself getting more comfortable around her. The way she approached problems with a mix of logic and creativity impressed him, and he started to appreciate her little quirks—the way she tapped her pen against the table when she was thinking or the way she smiled triumphantly whenever she solved something tricky.

Unbeknownst to him, his initial irritation toward her was transforming into something else entirely. He liked having her around. Her presence, her energy, the way she challenged him—it all felt… right.

But he didn’t recognize it for what it was. Not yet.

He told himself it was just admiration, just a growing respect for her intelligence. But deep down, something was changing. Jongho was falling, and he didn’t even realize it.

Jongho leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as he scrolled through food delivery apps on his phone. "I’m starving," he muttered. "I’m thinking of ordering something. What do you want? Pizza? Burgers?"

When he didn’t hear a response, he glanced up, only to find YN wasn’t in her seat anymore. Confused, he turned his head and saw her standing in his kitchen, opening cabinets and peeking into the fridge.

"What are you doing?" he asked, getting up and walking toward her.

YN glanced over her shoulder, tilting her head slightly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Let me cook. Don’t waste your money."

He blinked, caught off guard. "You can cook?"

"Of course," she said, pulling out a few ingredients she had found—a carton of eggs, some vegetables, and a pack of noodles. "It’s not going to be anything fancy, but it’ll be better than spending money on overpriced takeout."

Jongho leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched her move around his kitchen like she owned the place. "You don’t have to do that," he said, though there was no real protest in his tone.

"I want to," YN replied simply, giving him a quick glance. "Besides, it’s the least I can do since I’m using your space for this project."

Jongho didn’t argue further. Instead, he stood there, watching her as she chopped vegetables with practiced ease. There was something oddly comforting about the sight of her cooking in his kitchen, her focus entirely on the task at hand.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself, a rare, genuine smile. This girl really knows how to surprise me, he thought.

As the aroma of the food filled the apartment, Jongho realized that for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind sharing his space with someone else. And as much as he tried to deny it, he was starting to like the feeling.

As YN stirred the pot, she glanced over her shoulder to see Jongho still standing there, arms crossed, watching her like she was a show on TV. She raised an eyebrow.

"Why don’t you stop standing there like a statue and help me out, Jongho?" she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Jongho straightened up, clearly caught off guard. "Help? Me? You’re the one who insisted on cooking."

"And you’re the one with two perfectly working hands," she shot back, turning to point the spoon at him. "Come on, big guy. Chop some vegetables or something. Or do you only know how to lift weights?"

His jaw clenched slightly, more out of mock annoyance than anything else. "Fine," he muttered, stepping closer. He grabbed a knife and the vegetables she handed him.

"Careful," she said, watching him for a moment. "I don’t need you ruining my masterpiece."

Jongho gave her a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "You really like bossing me around, don’t you?"

"Someone has to," she quipped, going back to her cooking.

He smirked but didn’t say anything, focusing instead on cutting the vegetables as precisely as possible. For a guy who spent most of his free time in the gym or with his friends, he was surprisingly good with a knife.

As they worked side by side in the kitchen, a strange sense of ease settled between them. The usual tension was still there, but it felt lighter somehow, almost playful.

"See?" YN said as she tossed the chopped vegetables into the pan. "Teamwork makes the dream work."

Jongho rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head."

But deep down, he couldn’t ignore how natural it felt to be here with her, working together like this. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, he liked it. Maybe a little too much.

As they sat down at the coffee table to eat, Jongho casually turned on the TV and scrolled through the streaming options. “Might as well put on something while we eat,” he said, settling on an action movie.

YN nodded, already digging into the meal she had prepared. She took a bite, and at first, everything was fine—until the spice hit her. Her face betrayed her struggle as her lips parted slightly, and her eyes darted toward her glass of water.

Jongho noticed immediately. He paused mid-bite, watching her subtle struggle. Without a word, he stood up and walked to the kitchen. YN blinked, confused for a moment, but didn’t say anything as she reached for her water.

When he returned, he was holding a small tub of ice cream and a spoon. He set it in front of her without meeting her eyes, sitting back down like it was no big deal.

She looked at the ice cream, then at him. “You… got this for me?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” he muttered, focusing on his food. “You looked like you were about to set your mouth on fire.”

Despite his dismissive tone, YN couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks,” she said softly, taking a spoonful of the ice cream. The cool sweetness instantly soothed her, and she let out a small sigh of relief.

Jongho glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to stay engrossed in the movie. But he noticed everything—the way her shoulders relaxed, the small smile playing on her lips, the way her eyes brightened as she ate.

It wasn’t the first time he had paid attention to her without realizing it, but it was the first time he felt… something. A warmth in his chest he couldn’t explain.

Why am I doing this? he thought, shoving another bite of food into his mouth as if that would quiet his mind.

Every little thing about her was starting to stick with him. The way she challenged him, the way she surprised him, the way she smiled. And now, the way she sat across from him, enjoying the ice cream he’d fetched without a second thought.

He shook his head slightly, trying to brush it off. It’s nothing, he told himself. It’s just… habit. Or pity. Or… something.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t. Even if he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Divider from @/cafekitsune

[lunajay33]

Where are You? Part.3

•🍃🌑🕊️🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’ve been with Daryl since you were teenagers having a lovely little girl and another on the way but then the apocalypse happens and you’re left by yourself with your daughter and unborn child, will you ever find you husband again? Mean while Daryl is with a group that has no idea about his family

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warnings: Usual twd violence, pregnancy

Part.2

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since the group settled in, setting up tents and helping secure the farm, Daryl moved us out to the tree line away from the others, saying he’d feel safer there

It was the middle of the day and the sun was beating down, Harlow was up in the house with Beth playing around while I sat at mine and Daryl’s camp spot just trying to relax as I’ve been having these spurts of headaches ever since more things were happening it’s just become so hectic

“Ya alright?” Daryl asks as he comes and hands me a bottle of water

I shake my head as I cover my eyes with my hand trying to alleviate the pain, I took a sip of the water and tried to just breath

“Maybe yer sick Angel, remember when ya were pregnant with Harlow you got overwhelmed and the slightest thing turned ya into a ball of pain or sickness” he says as he rubs my belly

“I forgot, it’s just been a lot lately D, with you out there every day looking for that little girl and worrying every second about Harlow and if something will happen again I just……I can’t lose you again, I won’t make it my love” he squints at me with that look that told me I’m in trouble

“Ya don’t talk like that, yer gonna be fine I’m gonna make sure yer fine, now ya go up with Maggie and try ta relax, imma head out now” he says gently kissing me

“Please be careful” I sigh as he helps me stand up

“Always am, I’ll be back before the sunsets”

•

Throughout the day the headache eased while Harlow and I went around helping with chores, she’s like my own little ball of sunshine, but when we were out collecting eggs the guy named Shane from the group came in blocking us from leaving

“Now I’ve gotta ask you something”

“Okay?” I take Harlows hand as she hid behind my legs

“What’s a fine piece of ass like you doing with that red neck Dixon” I was gobsmacked at such a forward harsh thing to say to the said “rednecks” wife

“Excuse me! Don’t say that infront of my daughter, and mind you he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be” I scoff as I push past him but he grabs my arm squeezing it tight making me wince

“Let go”

“I’m gonna win you over sweetheart, show you what you’ve been missing” his eyes are void and it sends a shiver down my spine, I ripped my arm back and took Harlow away from him as quickly as possible

We got back to the house and dropped off the eggs and sat on the porch, Harlows little eyes looking up at me with a pouty lip

“Are you okay sweetheart?” I ask brushing back her hair

“He was scary mommy and mean, why would he say that about daddy?”

“He’s just cranky, we will stay away from him, he’s just jealous, now daddy should be home any minute now why don’t you go get Beth and make a drawing for him!” She perks up and runs inside

I’ll have to talk to Daryl about Shane, he’s always good at reading people and he���s been with him since the start, I’m still getting to know everyone, Rick seemed like a nice man same with Tdog, Carol was quiet but sweet, Andrea was a bit full of herself and judgy, Glenn definitely had eyes for my cousin she’s been telling me all about it, and Dale was a sweetheart but a bit set in his ways, and Harlow definitely had a little crush on Carl it was cute

The sun was about to set and there was still no sign of Daryl, he was usually back by this time, the door opened and Maggie came out and sat with me

“You alright? The baby doing okay?”

“Oh he’s as snug as a bug, it’s Daryl it’s getting dark now I’m worried, maybe I should go look for him”

“Oh no no no, if I know Daryl he’ll come back and if you’re gone he’ll skin me” I groan

“Fine but I’m going out to the field and waiting at least” I walk into the field close to the tree line just praying he’d come out completely fine and that I’m just an overthinker

Pacing back and forth I try to remember to breath, it’s Daryl he always comes back maybe he just got carried away looking for Sophia, soon rustling is heard from the trees and out comes Daryl and my heart drops, he’s covered in dirt and blood, he was barely standing up right something happened

“Oh my god Daryl!” I cry out making my way to him when a gun shot rings through the farm and a pain erupts through the side of my head and I’m down, blood clouding my vision on my right side

“Y/n!” I hear Daryl as he drops to his knees infront of me still looking exhausted but his concern over powered that, I touch the side of my head and hiss

“Someone shot me” I groan then hearing people behind us

“It’s alright” he reassures me when Glenn and Rick pull him up, Shane taking my arm but I pull back

“Don’t touch me” I scoff and the others notice

“I’ve got her” Glenn intervenes before Shane can say another word taking me by may waist guiding me to the house as it got more hazy

“Y/n you alright” he asks as we get closer to the house

“Yeah just…..just a bit dizzy” I slur, when we finally make it to the guest room we both lay on the bed as Hershel comes in

“Oh dear I’ve got my work cut out for me” he starts working on stitching my head and Maggie comes to clean up the blood

“Who shot her?” Daryl growls when Hershel starts working on patching him up

“Andrea she thought she was a walker”

“A walker? Do I look like a damn walker?” She told a glass of water to my lips then lays me down to rest

“Ya know yer as pretty as a peach, imma kill that woman, always been a problem” he’s interrupted when Harlow runs in frantic jumping on my lap on the bed

“MOMMY! DADDY! What happened you scared me” her little lip wobbles and it breaks my heart

“Just had a fall darlin but I’ll be okay in no time” Daryl smiles through the pain

“Please don’t leave me again” she cries when a tear falls

“Darlin im here fer the long hall” he says pinching her cheek

“Come on sweetie let’s let them get some rest carls been wanting to play with you all day” Maggie smiles leading her out, Hershel finishes up and then it’s just the two of us

“You really scared me Daryl” lays on his side looking at me rubbing my belly

“I know I’m sorry, I ain’t going out until I’m better but……what’s this?” His fingers graze my upper arm, I look noticing the bruising of where Shane grabbed me

“Oh it’s nothing I…” but he cut me off

“Sweetheart tell me” I sigh

“It was Shane, he cornered me and Harlow earlier saying he’d show me what a real man is I tried to get past him but her grabbed me”

“I knew he’d be a problem, been runnin round with Lori and when Rick got back it’s like he’s gone crazy, ya stay away from him I’ll make sure he gets that yer mine angel”

“All yours D”

•

Part.4

Taglist: @rainymads @stories4you04-x @mylle5 @nessatea @onerockontheway @moncherriis @writer-ann-artist @itsjustmeandmyanxiety @yoonjisgirl @remuslupinscumslutt @rockstarlover123 @bigbaldheadname @azanoni @deansapplepie @itsmytimetoodream @holb32 @whump-loverz @pollito-chicken @ankhmutes @nadeleine888

[gatorbites-imagines]

I was wondering if you have more of a snippet and or more head canons of Sinister Mark when he had his miscarriage and if he longed to have another after pregnancy seeing the others with their near almost to term pregnancies and or with their new borns. I feel like when he sees how caring (specifically hybrid mark) with his little cubs and is all maternal there’s like something that just stirs in sinister. Perhaps it’s longing perhaps it’s jealousy

I think hed have some strong struggles with jealousy and longing, and a lot of self-hatred, and he would blame himself so much for the loss. He would go on long flights away from home, because he just cant stand seeing all the other Marks happy and healthy, so close to term, able to feel their babies kick, giddy with anticipation. 

He would struggle with wanting to try again, like he just needed it to happen to feel complete again. Like, to prove himself and others that he isn't a failure. I don't see the reader agreeing when he's in this state, which just makes Sinister even angrier, he would have some explosive reactions because his mental state has never been the most stable, and this just threw a wrench in it all. 

You know what I think would end up helping a lot? Debbie. I don't know if she has had miscarriages of her own, but she has been pregnant and has struggled with that fear. Plus, she's his mother, kinda. Sinister might not have had much of a relationship with his own mother, but being held and comforted by Debbie just... heals some part of him. 

It might be because he's spent so much time with other versions of himself that things are melding together, or because he's used to being feared by literally everybody so he doesn't feel he can be vulnerable with anyone but the reader and perhaps the other Marks. So having a version of his mom not be scared, and just be there for him is strange but comforting. Sometimes all we need is our mom, ya know? 

Sinister Mark wouldn't go to therapy, none of them trust any therapist in this place, but having people to talk to helps. Hes also just, extra quiet and mellow than everyone is used too, so he gets extra loving from pretty much everyone.  

Imagine prisoner Mark is the one who lets Sinister Mark hold his babies the first time. They're small, weaker than the offspring of the other Marks because of how long prisoner Mark was locked away, but they are warm, breathing and alive.  

The other Marks would be wary about letting Sinister Mark close, but prisoner gives him a chance. And just being able to hold them, feel how alive they are, see how responsive they are to his voice and actions. His shoulders just visibly loosen, and sinister Mark just curls up around the two small twins and just... holds them, kisses them, pats them, etc, etc.  

Prisoner Mark stays close by obviously, and takes the twins when Sinister clearly gets too worked up about it but... it helps a lot, it also means that the other Marks feel safer about it. This is the softest they ever get to see Sinister, except for when he's with reader, lmao. 

[usoppsstar]

Op men when you're pregnant 🍼🍼🍼

Pairings: Op men x f! Reader

Characters: Sanji, Usopp, Zoro, Luffy

Tw: none it's fluffy/ mention of boobs getting bigger

Notes: A lot of pregnant reader being fussed over and protected, if you're looking for an op reader this might not be the fic for you sorry; you're not necessarily married to them in these, except for Sanji; I've already got thoughts for a part two; as always, this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🍼🍼🍼

🍼 Masterlist Angst ver Pt.2

🍼Sanji

We all already know that Sanji's pregnant wife isn't lifting a finger. Your feet wouldn't touch the ground either if it wasn't for the exercises chopper makes you do so your labor will be easier . If you thought he pampered you before, you won't believe how he waits on you when you're having a baby.

"Hey chopper! What's this I hear about y/n having to workout!? My lovely wife is carrying our baby! Just her sitting there looking round and adorable should already be enough!"

Has a huge problem when he finds out about the exercises Chopper prescribed you until he saw just how cute you looked trying to do them. Throws a fit and gushes about how adorable you are until eventually you get frustrated with him( and trying to balance on an exercise ball) and tell him to go away.( He's also not a great influence either cuz he's quick to tell you it's fine to stop when you get frustrated, only for you both to be lectured by Chopper).

Now, Sanji might fuss with Chopper over your little cardio regimens but he takes your diet and the food Chopper recommends very seriously, and it's obvious to everyone on the crew. From how long it takes for it to be time to eat because he's taking extra time to add extra care to your dishes, to the way NO ONE is eating until you get your plate. Not that your crew has any problem with you eating first anyway( even Luffy) but your husband can get carried away and lose track of time. They eventually come up with a plan that always gets Sanji moving. Wait until you get hungry,watch as you stomp into the kitchen, and get ready to eat.

Since we're on food, it's a given that there's no craving that you can conjure up that Sanji won't make into a gourmet dish for you( unless it's something inedible like laundry detergent unfortunately). Sanji is pretty strict with your diet though, and although you don't whine much cuz anything he makes tastes amazing, there are times when you can't help but ask for something deep fried or drowned in ice cream and caramel.

Besides that though,Sanji pretty much gives you whatever you want.You are always right during your pregnancy, no matter how irrational or illogical you're being, and that's because you are getting absolutely no logic from your man. It can be asking him to get you golden cheese from the moon as a craving or telling him that the jar you can't open is plotting against you. To Sanji you can do no wrong while you're carrying you twos baby(not that you can ever do wrong in his eyes anyway)

I feel like this is a given of course but Sanji is super overprotective of you while you're pregnant,even more than usual. Always keeping an eye on you and checking on you, or asking another crewmate to look over you if he can't. It's even worse for him during a fight. Is it safer to keep you close to him the entire time or should he leave you somewhere "safe"? Is that somewhere safe, safe enough? What if someone targets you once he leaves? There's not a peaceful moment for Sanji as long as there's a threat anywhere within a hundred miles of you and because of this Sanji frets over you relentlessly during a fight. Everyone knows it would be different if you were in your original state and could defend yourself like always, but because you aren't, you don't complain when Sanji frets over you 24/7. Simply because you know that no one would hurt more than Sanji if any harm should come to you or the baby when he wasn't around to protect you.

On a fluffier note! Sanji sings to you and the baby

Late at night, when most of the crew have turned in for bed and you two(three) are the only ones left in the kitchen. He'll make you your favorite snack ,prop your feet up, and sing to you while he finishes cleaning up the kitchen. You usually drift off to sleep, and Sanji, always carries you back to your bedroom.

***🍼***

🍼Usopp

Usopp likes to dress you up, specifically in…

Overalls. He wants to see your pregnant belly in overalls.

There is nothing cuter to him. Of Course he wouldn't actually ask you to put on the jean ones, but the huge, fabric overalls that come in a variety of colors?? Yes please. Maybe it's because he enjoys wearing overalls himself but there's something about the pockets and the look itself that gives him serotonin. He likes to see you in any of the clothes he either bought or made with you in mind really. His feelings do get hurt sometimes though because as much as you appreciate him and as lovely and comfortable as the clothes are, sometimes the most comfortable outfit to you is a baggy shirt and a pair of his boxers. He'll pout but low-key, he thinks you look good in that too.

He talks to your belly all the time. He finds it fun, especially when he feels a kick. He likes to pretend that the baby is reacting to his story, even if he knows they might just be stretching or something. Besides, we all know that Usopp never misses a chance to tell an impressionable mind an outlandish story about his past. So who better to tell his tales to than his unborn baby? Get this though, despite the amazing adventures he's been on and how incredible his skills actually are now, he tells made up stories anyway. The stories are more precious to him this way, almost like a gift for his unborn child. A story no one else has heard(Besides you anyway lol).

Usopp is building baby stuff the moment Chopper tells you both you're pregnant, like for real sketching up designs that same night. He's discussing room floor plans with Franky, he's picking out fabrics for toys and paint for walls, and asking you if the baby should have a crib or a bassinet. It's low-key a stress reliever for him. There are plenty of times when you'll wake up in the middle of the night, to use the restroom or get some water, and you'll notice the light on in his workshop. Usopp Is always super careful not to wake you up whenever he does this, so you usually never notice, but whenever he can't sleep he goes to his workshop. So ever since you two have been expecting, whenever he can't seem to get some rest,he crafts things for the baby. You usually choose to sleep on the bed in there with him when you find him like this,even if he encourages you to sleep where it's more comfortable( you always wake up in his arms in your guy's bed anyway though)

Usopp would never let anything hurt you while you're vulnerable like this, and there's no fight he'll lose if you're behind him. Unlike Sanji, Usopp has no problem deciding if he'll stay behind with you and watch over you that way, or entrust you to another crewmate and do his job somewhere else. He'd much rather you stay on the Sunny rather than venturing onto the island where the danger is, and as much as he trusts his crew with your safety, he'd just be thinking about you the entire time if he left you. If push comes to shove and his role is crucial, he'll leave you with chopper or Nami or even on your own, and trust that you'll keep yourself hidden. It's not going to stop him from panicking the entire time though.

He makes it very obvious just how excited he is to welcome your new child into the world. If it wasn't evident with how much he was preparing for the arrival, how much he talks about it definitely gives it away. He's always talking about the kinds of things he'll teach them,the plants he'll show them( He's already started propagating some cuttings from his favorites), and just how incredible it is that you can carry an entire tiny person inside you like this, a part of both of you.

"It's just so fascinating that you can carry human life like this!" Usopp happily tells you one day as you sit with him while he tends to his plants outside.

"You're really incredible honey, you know that!?" He says before turning to you with a precious smile, one that makes you glad to be sharing parenthood with him.

***🍼***

🍼Zoro

Will wake up and get things for you in the middle of the night no matter how late it is. Food, water, another pillow, another blanket, it doesn't matter. It takes a little effort to wake him up but he always will.

" Zoro?....... Zoro! Baby!" You whisper as you shake him

" Hunh!? Hm?" Zoro'll sputter and sit up on his elbows.

You'd think because of Zoro's sharp instincts, he'd wake up as soon as you need him right? And he would. If you were in any danger. Someone attacking the ship? He's up in a heartbeat. A particularly intense storm? He's up before you are. You about to pee the bed? He's awake and running you to the bathroom, but unless it's something of that nature, Zoro sleeps like a rock. He just has a sort of sensor in his sleep that differentiates emergencies from minor things, and if it's a minor thing your gonna have to darn near slap his a** to get him to wake up.

Zoro may seem like he doesn't fuss over you but he does, a lot. Someone on the outside looking in might think that Zoro doesn't pay much attention to you, judging by the relaxed way he's resting on deck, but really all his attention is tuned towards you. It's always been, but since Chopper found out that you were pregnant( you two didn't even realize for a few weeks), he's been extra attentive. Noticing changes in your tone when speaking, even if it's just playful banter between you and one of the crew, or changes in your mood at all. Always giving you looks that silently ask if you're tired or if you're ready to leave. It's as if he always knows exactly what you need, almost before you do. All it takes is a single glance and he understands what you're trying to tell him. Not even just when you're uncomfortable or tired, even if you're hot or hungry. Zoro will suddenly be over with an umbrella or loudly asking sanji when it's time to eat( which always ends in a fight because Sanji was already on top of it). It might just be his observation haki but sometimes it feels like something more special than that.

Zoro doesn't talk to your belly much. He'll tell you it feels awkward and he never knows what he's supposed to say but won't admit that it's actually because the first time you guys tried it, his deep voice startled your baby( you both literally saw the jump) and he's been secretly sulking ever since. It's also a little weird for him to talk to the baby because well, you're sitting there. You always reassure him that you're not listening but he knows you are, and that if he says anything that you deem cute, you'll never drop it. So yeah, he doesn't talk to your belly much. During the day anyway. What no one knows is that Zoro talks to your belly all the time after you fall asleep. Complaints about his crewmates, how luffy almost got them all killed today,how pretty he thought you looked today, and how much he looks forward to their arrival.

It didn't really compute to him that you guys are really going to have a tiny version of yourselves until your stomach starts to show. He doesn't notice it right away but one day you lifted your shirt after your short workout session( you decided to do it in the crow's nest with Zoro) and he saw just how tight and dome shaped your stomach looked. He only realized then, that a person was really growing in there. After that, he was pretty intrigued by how he could look away and next thing he knew, your stomach was that much bigger( that and *ahem* other things). He never told you of course but you eventually found out because Zoro kept making sure he was present whenever you changed clothes. That and he's always stroking your belly whenever you both are just chilling, nowadays he doesn't even realize he's doing it until he feels the kicks against his palm.

If you ever start to feel insecure about not being able to fight with your crew( once you get too big to move swiftly) Zoro is quick to reassure that it's alright to sit back and let him and the crew handle everything for now.

" No one here doubts just how capable you are, but that's not important now. There's someone in this crew that needs you more." Zoro tells you in a stern voice as he stands in front of you.

" So let me handle this alright?" He'll also say softly.

***🍼***

🍼Luffy

Luffy talks and interacts with your belly as if your baby is already here. There's times when you actually kind of feel like a third wheel between your captain and your unborn child, and with the enthusiastic kicks and nudges you feel in response, you're justified in thinking your baby feels the same way as their dad. Besides the quick kiss he gives you before their conversation and the kiss he gives you after, there's no other indication that he acknowledges you're there( except when he mentions you).

He likes to do things like carry you around on his shoulder and describe the view to your baby when you all are about to dock on a new island because they can't see it. He also checks on you when everyone is hanging out on deck, stopping to press kisses on your cheek and tummy, or ask how you're doing and if the baby is kicking a lot( he finds it fascinating) and at night he likes to talk about his day to the two of you while laying a little of his weight on you.

Luffy had to learn to be more gentle with you now. No more flinging back to the ship with you, no more accidentally crashing into you, no more dragging you onto crazy islands he's intrigued by. He realized this for the first time when he went for a hug and your belly pressed into his and forced him to pause. It didn't take Nami to slap him in the head or Sanji to kick him. He just realized that it's not just you two anymore,there's three of you now and the smallest one depends solely on the both of you. After that he began to be more gentle with you and think just a little more about his actions.

Luffy hates it when you start to get upset, and no,not because he thinks it's annoying. He just hates for you to want for anything, especially food. You'll never get hungry as long as you have luffy around because he's always checking if you are. At first you thought it was an excuse to get more food out of Sanji, but when Luffy passed his plate to you and made sure you ate first during dinner for the first time, you knew he genuinely cared.He always encourages you to eat as much as you want too, his words always being

" It's OK! You're eating for two now!"

Of course you can't actually eat as much as Luffy thinks you should( his standards are insane) but you appreciate just how much he wants you to be happy and well-fed.

As much as Luffy likes to see you eating, he actually takes the diet Chopper gave you pretty seriously. What you thought would be late nights of sneaking into the kitchen( after bribing him with promises of letting him have some) were actually nights full of cuddles and sleepy scolding about how ' Chopper said you can't have that'. You figured it'd be pretty easy to convince luffy to help you cheat on your diet but he's pretty diligent, not wavering no matter how complain or hang on to him and instead giving you a teasing laugh and kiss. Now of course, Luffy can't actually stop you from getting a treat and he wouldn't try, if you were dead set on it, but there's something about Luffy being responsible for your sake that makes you want to be responsible too. That and the proud hugs and kisses he gives you when you resist the temptation of a sweet treat.( Luffy definitely asks Sanji to make something special but that's good for you too,though)

When it comes to your safety, unlike the other boys on this list, Luffy has absolutely no problem leaving you with the others because he knows all of them would protect their pregnant crewmate with their lives. He doesn't even mind leaving you on your own. Luffy just kind of knows when he should and shouldn't leave you alone, and if he has a feeling you'll be safe from harm, he'll leave you with a light heart. He doesn't even ask you to keep yourself safe, instead he holds you close, presses his forehead to yours, and promises that he'll stay safe, and that he'll be back for the both of you soon.

A/n: I finally finished this one, it took me way longer than I planned, but when you're a master procrastinator it gets a little difficult to write everyday. I've already thought about some head cannons for Kidd with pregnant reader, so there'll definitely be a part 2 to this. Yaaaay, I finally posted one piece content again. Thanks for reading🍼🍼🍼

[greenandsorrow]

I'm really curious about how you think Alastor would handle a deaf sinner (revenge plot gone horribly wrong). The reader is staying at the hotel.. actually, it'll probably be challenging for everyone! Reader (f/gn) can read lips fairly well, but when Alastor does the whole "face made for radio," shtick his mouth doesn't move.. can't be threatened if you dont know what's said. It looks weird, though! Reader uses a phone to communicate mostly due to convenience, doesn't use signs because deafness comes as a bonus with death, also carries a pen but rarely paper so ends up writing notes on arms. Habits that linger from life are low self esteem covered masterfully with sass and sarcasm, humming and singing to themselves, remembering perfect pitches and how they felt to sing, can also match pitch by matching a vibration and drumming or tapping hands when needing to focus or is anxious.

Platonic relationships all round, not looking for romance here, just a place to belong for a bit, familial/sibling ribbing and sass!

I'm sorry in advance if it is a lot, but you do ask for details!

"This face was made for radio."

The Hazbins with a deaf!sinner!reader

You'll never forget the day you landed in Pentagram City. The world around you on mute... It will always stay carved in your memory... the way you had screamed until your throat ached and then had come to the conclusion that even though your voice worked fine, your ability to hear hadn't come with you to the afterlife.

Your sass did save you on multiple occasions that your lack of hearing left you with double the insecurity you carried from your days on Earth. The good news is that, eventually, you learnt to read lips and use your phone to communicate, making your afterlife a bit safer and easier.

However, some -Charlie- would say that your biggest achievement is willingly asking for residence at the "Happy Hotel"! It was a welcoming change to the constant battle of survival, that the streets of the City of the Damned are.

You have your own room and belongings. You have access to food and even made... friends. With your little notepad and pen, you scribble your thoughts and answers when interacting with them. In all honesty, you like your new neighbours more than you ever thought you would.

And the feeling is mutual amongst y'all.

You enjoy how Charlie is always putting on a show and how she sings more than she talks. Not only that, but she makes sure to let you know how impressive it is that you can match the rhythm of her songs, by tapping your fingernails on your notepad.

Vaggie makes an effort so you're always safe and that was before you even got close. She's a bit overprotective in your opinion, but then again... kindness in Hell is scarce and more than appreciated.

Seriously though, you're not handicapped, but it's no use explaining it to her.

Even the famous Angel Dust speaks slower when addressing you. Just like Vaggie, he's protective of you. It's rare for Angel to try to not make a fellow sinner uncomfortable.

In a way, the spider demon has adopted you and Niffty, concerning himself with your wellbeing. You want something but don't have your pen on you? He's willing to play pantomime just to make sure he can provide it to you.

And then there's Husk. The bartender is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you. Caution mixed with fondness. He doesn't mind that you speak too loudly in the rare occasions you use your voice. He doesn't mind having to wait for you to write down your jokes. He actually enjoys your company more than he lets on.

Just a detail, you became part of the crew around the same time Sir Pentious did. Consequently, in the beginning you two kind of stuck together, both seen as newbies.

You're so grateful for how he still washes your arms from the ink of your trusty pen.

To put it into a few words, all families are colorful and yours is no exception. Dysfunctions, disagreements and some sappiness are all part of your every day life. But the Hazbin Hotel has become your home and that's all that matters.

✧

Noticed how I overlooked a very special sinner??

Yep. That's right. Alastor.

The radio demon didn't pay you much attention when you first moved in. You have come to the conclusion that your lack of hearing just underwhelmed him.

He's the radio demon. Sound is his weapon and you're immune to it.

Obviously, his animated personality didn't go unnoticed to your observant eyes. Still, the old radio effect of his voice, the static he produces and all those flamboyant aspects of him are thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

He can't intimidate you. Not that he's tried. Not yet.

You have kept to yourself and maybe even subconsciously avoided him during your settlement in the hotel. It's not out of fear. But what fun is a fellow sinner that speaks more than he moves his mouth? Thank Lucifer he's expressive, otherwise he'd be muter to you than you're to yourself.

And that permanent grin doesn't help either. You've discreetly been relying on his shadow's expressions to make out what's going on in his antlered head.

✧

Today is no different.

He's just stranding there. Black cane, an ignorant and simultaneously arrogant aura, the same infuriating smile and Pentious's egg-bois around him.

Meanwhile, you're sitting in the lounge, inspecting a very 2000's looking camera. It's a way to kill time, watching your surroundings through the lens. At some point the camera lands on Alastor's figure.

It immediately starts glitching.

You burrow your eyebrows in confusion. When you look again, Alastor isn't where he was a few seconds ago.

You sigh.

"What do you think you're doing there, dear?"

Silence. No reaction. You keep looking through the camera at the place Alastor occupied just a few moments ago.

Alastor narrows his eyes. He's standing almost next to you.

But of course you didn't hear him.

The intensified static in his voice... wasted.

He clears his throat loudly, but to no avail.

Eventually, he gives in and taps your shoulder. You blink, lowering the camera to your lap and looking up at him, head slightly tilted.

Taking in your expression, Alastor secretly enjoys the animated scrunch of your brows, a clear indication of confusion.

He's not saying anything, so you shrug to yourself and absentmindedly focus the camera on him once more.

Alastor's eyes narrow with a sadistic glee as the camera suddenly breaks, fume coming out of it, the lens now cracked. You drop it, a bit startled but not on the degree he was hoping.

You don't bother standing up but you do glare at him in exasperation.

"Well, well... Aren't you a brave one?"

Finally! Something you can make out coming from his razor sharp jaws.

You pop the lid off your pen, but before you have time to write "What's that supposed to mean?" on your arm, he has already dimmed the lights and leaned down so he's at eye level with you.

"Let me tell you something while we're at it."

His neck bends unnaturally and his eyes turn black. It's not exactly a sight to enjoy, but it doesn't matter since you're too focused on trying to read his lips.

"This face was made f......"

For?

For what?

What could it have been made for?

His mouth stopped pronouncing the words before the sentence was finished, so it's not your fault that you're chuckling now.

Alastor's chest literally deflates at your reaction.

His ears droop.

It wasn't even full on laughter but his pride took a big hit.

While he's frozen in shock at your lack of fear, you finally scribble down at the back of your hand "Was made for what?"

You extend your hand for him to read with an apologetic gaze. He does look kind of wounded.

Alastor takes in your words and accepts that you didn't laugh at him on purpose. Not to humiliate him at least.

Placing a gloved finger under your chin, he makes you look at his face before speaking slowly, moving his lips almost comically.

"This face was made for ra- di- o."

You let out an "oh" of realization.

Your eyes have a new light of interest in them as you write down your answer.

"I used to listen to that, when I was alive."

"Mhm, that's a pleasant piece of information, my dear!"

✧

From that day on, every time before he broadcasts, he makes sure to give you his notes to read, even making them more elaborate just for you.

For him, the only downside of your loss of hearing is not being able to enjoy his radio show.

At least you now get along.

Tips are highly appreciated! (PayPal)

Shout-out to @buggieluv79 for helping me with the deaf POV 💌 I also want to point out the fact that the wonderful being that made this request is both kind and patient, having waited three months for me to write this and supporting me in the process❣️

Hazbin Hotel masterlist ❤️

I'm open to writing for a deaf!reader again, whether you want it to be the same person we met in this fic or a different one. (Wait till reqs open again please!)

[wafflexdguy]

Goob Headcanons!

It's the Goob! The Goobert Snoobert!!!!

Romantic/Platonic Headcanons featuring some angst! :D

--------------------------

Goob loves hugs, and this is very obvious when he hugs you a little bit more often than he does with other toons. It's almost always on sight with him; the second he sees you his arms go flying out in your general direction. He doesn't always hit his target and may accidentally grab another toon or visitor of Gardenview. 

Of course, when other toons comment on his behavior towards you, his response is almost always, "Oh yeah, I guess I have!" And doesn't really comment any further on that. In his mind, you always need a hug, no matter the time or place! 

Except for funerals.

Assuming Gardenview already closed down and your doing your whole 'Ichor machine' mission; Goob is always close by. Sometimes coincidentally, but also because he doesn't like the idea of a Twisted chasing you and not being able to be there to help by hugging you out of the way. Even if you have the situation handled by getting out of sight, and sometimes putting himself in danger in the process. Please tell him that putting himself in danger just for you isn't always the best idea. 

Visitors and Employees do comment on how you two are almost inseparable -Barring Scraps- because you're always around Goob or Goob and Scraps. Visitors find it cute while Employees find it confusing, considering that in my personal headcanon, you don't really meet each other in the show. 

Unless you want to meet each other in the show, then the Employees won't comment on it. 

Scraps adores your relationship towards Goob, romantic or not. The interactions you two have with each other are almost always fun to watch, barring Twisted chases. Sometimes she intentionally leaves you alone, saying she has to do something and then just watch you two do whatever, gushing over her brother getting along with you so well.

...

Of course, everything isn't always so dandy. 

For sakes of actually having headcanons here, Twisted Goob isn't immediately hostile to you, just more watching you, unable to determine if he should attack or not. If you run away he'll just opt for walking after you. Not exactly chasing, just walking after you. 

And he won't observe from a distance either, he'll be right there next to you while you extract a machine, sitting there silently while you're blissfully unaware of his presence. Once you're finished and see him, maybe you'll freak out, maybe you won't. Maybe your first instinct is to run, maybe it isn't. 

Either way, you have a follower for the entire floor, whether you like it or not. It's mostly down to him just feeling really safe around you. You'll notice that his expression when Twisted is one of either pain or sadness (maybe some anger) but whenever he's around you, he feels a lot more safer and calm, with instead of the sad expression, it's more neutral or in rare cases happy. Of course, the smile would be the same as Twisted Scraps or Toodles, but it's still a smile!

That's not to say that he won't attack other Toons; he will but usually he can be calmed down by just putting yourself in front of the Toon in question. It'll temporarily calm him down enough to where the Toon can escape, (Assuming it's not a shrimp that'll stay due to him saying "I HATE TWISTED HUGGERS!!!!") and everyone is happy.

Eventually when panic time kicks off and see's everyone else going towards the elevator, he'll notice you're heading there too and kind of panic, kind of not. He'll assume it's just normal and that you'll be back eventually. So he'll wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Maybe you can see where this is going. 

Much like Glisten, he'll have a breaking point if you encounter him too many times to the point where he'll just hug you and won't let go the next time you see him. A Toon will have to break you out of the not so restrictive prison by blowing a airhorn right next to him. 

My personal headcanon around it is that Twisted Goob really hates being alone, just like Glisten. Except unlike Glisten, he won't... y'know, kill you. So with Goob, there's a lot less risk of dying with him, assuming there isn't another Twisted around. His arms are good for hugging tightly but not really good for defending. 

Speaking of defending, for Twisted Goob, he'll grab the Twisted that's chasing you and just... Hug them. Allowing you time to escape and really pissing off the Twisted that he robbed of a hit or free kill. 

...

But back to when things were happy and dandy!

A lot of visitors love to just see you two interact and basically do fluffy things, cuddling, hugging, interacting and playing, it's all well and good for corporate! They're earning money, the visitors are earning adorable photos and you and Goob are happily interacting with each other!

You'll notice in the interactions post I've made that his Hug ability he's usually protective or really likes hugs. Of course, he'll do this randomly and this can get really awkward if you were in the middle of an extraction, causing a failed skill check promptly having Twisteds coming after both of you. He'll just awkwardly chuckle and apologize, to which you might forgive him. 

But in conclusion: For the fluffy parts of these headcanons, it's mostly you and Goob hugging and just having fun together. With the Angst parts of these headcanons, it's more or less Goob being a mix of protective and curious but also just self interested with him staying around you only so he can feel safe. 

But to clarify, the Twisted version of him does like to be around you more because he likes you more than doing it out of self interest.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Six

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU .... eventually lol

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Idiots, angst, Buckys dumb for like no reason at all. Poor steve :(

A/N: Okay im uploading part 7 directly after this cuz yall were patient when i said i was uploading part 6 last night and never did lmao, also the next two are just kinda build ups bucky and reader gonna have some words.........

Masterpost

----

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks at Steve and Sam, who are both waiting, wide-eyed. “Do you remember that party at John Walker’s house? It was a couple of years after you dropped out, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes narrow, thinking back. “Yeah, I only heard about it because Wanda said it got messy. And Steve… you were the one who became the keg stand champion, right?”

Steve smirks at the memory. “Yeah, that was one for the books. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

Bucky looks down, his voice soft, almost reverent. “That night… something happened between us. We’d been drinking, and one thing led to another. We, uh, we…. slept together.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Steve’s eyes go wide, and Sam’s jaw drops. Finally, Steve manages, “Holy crap, Buck. You two just… jumped from being best friends to that?”

Bucky nods, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember. And that night… it felt like everything. I thought maybe… maybe it meant the same to her.” His face darkens, his voice dropping. “But when I woke up the next morning, she was gone. Just… vanished. Didn’t say a word. And after that, she wouldn’t even meet my eyes for weeks.”

Sam shakes his head, completely floored. “So you’re telling us that you two had this whole moment… and then she just left?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, still looking down. “I thought maybe she was spooked, it was a lot, so I gave her some space but…” He trails off sighing, “Maybe she regretted it, or felt ashamed. Hell, I even started to think she was disgusted with herself for… being with me.”

Steve rubs his forehead, staring at Bucky with a mix of disbelief and pity. “So you’ve just… never talked about it? Not once?”

“No,” Bucky says with a bitter laugh. “She wouldn’t, and I wasn’t gonna force her to. I figured if she wanted to pretend it never happened, then that’s what we’d do, yknow id do anything for her”

Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Buck, everyone’s known she’s been in love with you since forever. She probably thought you saw it as a drunken mistake.”

Bucky stares at him, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“Your reputation in college, at least when I was there” Sam says bluntly. “She probably thought she was just another notch on your belt. Especially if she’d heard any of those rumours.”

Bucky looks between them, realisation dawning as he mutters, “She knew those were just rumours, were best friends, she knows me better than that, right? She had to have known they were just rumours.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “How was she supposed to know, Buck? Everyone around campus talked about you like you were this heartbreaker, this guy who couldn’t be tied down. Best friend Bucky and relationship you are two different Bucky’s to her… can you blame her for thinking that night didn’t mean anything to you?”

Bucky stares at the floor, his expression twisted with guilt and frustration. “I just… I thought she’d know I’d never do that to her. That she was different, of course she is different it's her, she has to know that!” He clenches his fists. “I thought she was the one regretting it.”

Sam lets out a sigh, leaning forward. “So let me get this straight. You both spent years walking on eggshells, thinking the other didn’t care, and you’re both probably miserable because of it.”

Bucky shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “It just felt safer to leave it alone. I thought it was better to have her in my life as my best friend than risk losing her altogether. I’d rather have had some of her than none at all.”

Steve shakes his head, a small, sad smile on his face. “You two have been dancing around each other all this time. It’s like you’ve been playing some drawn-out, painful game of cat and mouse.”

Bucky laughs, but it’s hollow. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Bucky looks up, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes. “I don’t know. I thought I’d missed my chance. But… if she still feels the same, if there’s even a part of her that still cares…”

Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Then it’s worth fighting for, Buck. Don’t let another night slip by without her knowing how you feel, you’ve wasted enough time already”

Bucky’s face hardens with resolve, determination mingling with the lingering fear in his eyes. “You’re right. I have to tell her. I just hope… I hope it’s not too late. You’re a good friend, Steve. Thanks for this.”

Steve musters a small, bittersweet smile. “Of course, Buck. Anything for you.”

Inside, though, a quiet ache flares—a familiar, constant ache he’s learned to bury deep down. Unrequited love is painful enough, but what gnaws at Steve isn’t just his own longing. It’s the years he’s spent watching the two people he cares about most teeter on the edge of something real, only to pull back time and again. He’s seen Bucky’s yearning masked as indifference, her stolen glances that went unnoticed, and all the missed moments that could have been… if only one of them had been brave enough.

To Steve, there’s a nobility in his silence—a duty to let them find happiness, even if it’s not with him. It would be easy to resent Bucky for hurting you, for treating your feelings like a burden. But Steve can’t bring himself to feel anything other than empathy. Bucky’s been as lost as you have, caught in a battle he’s too proud or too scared to admit.

He knows, deep down, that his own feelings don’t matter here. What matters is that they have a chance, a real chance, at the happiness he’s always wanted for you, even if its not with him. And if he has to carry his love quietly, if he has to keep his own heartache in check for them, then that’s what he’ll do.

“Go tell her, Buck,” Steve says quietly, the weight of unspoken words heavy in his voice. “And don’t waste a single moment. You both deserve to know the truth.”

Bucky meets his gaze, nodding with a unsure but trusting smile. He has no idea of the sacrifice Steve is making in this moment, Steve watches him, swallowing the longing and sadness that’s always there but will never be voiced. In his own way, he’s choosing love too—a selfless love that finds peace in seeing her happiness, even if it’s not

with him.

Sam glanced at Bucky, his brow furrowing. “Hold on a second, what about Kate?”

Bucky’s face falls at Sam’s question, the name he’s been trying not to think about suddenly hitting him like a weight in his chest. Kate. Sweet, caring, loyal Kate, who had seen the best in him when he couldn’t see it himself, who had been there quietly beside him, hoping he’d come around.

He hesitates, avoiding his friends’ eyes as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I… I don’t know. Kate deserves the truth too. I thought maybe she was what I needed to finally… to finally move on.” He sighs, the regret heavy in his voice. “But that was just me lying to myself. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

Sam nods, a hint of sympathy in his expression. “Kate’s a good person, Buck. She doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s second choice.”

Bucky looks down, guilt clawing at him. “I know. And I hate that I’ve made her one. She should be with someone who’s all in… and that’s not me. It’s not fair to her.”

Steve studies Bucky’s face, understanding but also concerned. “So, you’re going to talk to her?”

Bucky nods slowly. “Yeah. She deserves to know. I need to be honest with her before I can… before I can even think about anything else.”

Steve claps a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Good. She deserves that much.”

That afternoon, Bucky texts Kate, asking if they can meet up. His heart pounds as he waits for her reply, the thought of ending things with her weighing heavily on his mind. She responds quickly, suggesting they meet at the same little coffee shop from the day before, and he heads there with a mix of dread and resignation.

When he arrives, Kate is already seated at their usual table, a soft smile brightening her face when she sees him. It makes the ache in his chest deepen—he knows that after today, that smile will probably disappear, and he’ll be the one responsible for it.

“Hey,” she says, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “You sounded serious in your text. Everything okay?”

Bucky nods, though the heaviness in his gaze betrays him. “Yeah, I… I just needed to talk to you about something. Something I haven’t been fair about.”

Kate’s smile fades slightly, a hint of concern clouding her expression. “What is it?”

He opens his mouth to explain, but the words get stuck, the weight of everything catching up to him. “Kate… I don’t know how to say this. You deserve so much more than I’ve been giving you. I haven’t been fair to you. I haven’t… I haven’t been fully here.”

Kate’s face softens as she reaches out, gently placing her hand over his. “Bucky, I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I know you’re… complicated. But I’m here because I want to be. Because I care about you, whether you’re all in or not.”

He shakes his head, guilt gnawing at him. “You deserve better than ‘complicated,’ Kate. I thought I could be the guy you deserve, but I just… I can’t be.”

She watches him for a long moment, and then her voice drops, quiet but sure. “Bucky, I knew what I was getting into when I fell for you. I know you’re still figuring things out, and I can be patient. I can wait if that’s what you need.”

Her words stop him in his tracks. There’s an unflinching loyalty in her eyes, a warmth and steadiness that he’s never fully appreciated until now. She doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch, and the weight of her gaze makes his chest tighten.

“Kate, I…” he starts, but she squeezes his hand, stopping him.

“Look, Bucky, I know there are things you haven’t told me, things you don’t think I understand. But I’ve seen the way you look at me, and I think… I think we could really have something if you let us.” Her voice trembles slightly, but she holds his gaze, her own eyes filled with a quiet determination.

For a moment, he’s silent, trying to process what she’s offering him. Kate’s hope, her patience, her willingness to wait for him—it’s more than he deserves, more than he ever thought he’d find with anyone. And he realizes, with a pang, that he can’t bring himself to end things with her today. Not with the sincerity in her voice, the openness in her gaze.

After a long moment, he forces himself to nod. “Thank you, Kate. For… for everything…”

She smiles, a relieved smile that makes him feel even worse, but he doesn’t have the heart to say anything more. The truth—the messy, painful truth—will have to wait. For now, he’ll accept her patience, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

---

You sit back on Natasha’s bed, letting out a long sigh, the wine making you feel just the tiniest bit lightheaded as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I can’t go home,” you mutter. “Bucky’s over at Steve and Sam’s tonight but, when he comes home, I… I just can’t face him right now. Not after everything.”

Natasha gives you a soft smile. “Of course, you can stay here. You’re always welcome.”

Wanda chimes in, wrapping an arm around you. “We’ll have a proper girls’ night. Forget about all that for now.”

You smile, feeling a wave of relief. As you settle back, Natasha glances over at you with a knowing look. “So… what about Dean?”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Oh, God. I completely forgot about Dean.”

Natasha grins. “I can text him, say you got cold feet or something?”

You shake your head. “No, just… leave it. Honestly, with everything that’s happened… I don’t know. I keep thinking… what if Bucky doesn’t feel that way anymore? What if all of that—what I thought we shared—meant nothing to him?”

Natasha sighs, squeezing your hand. “Look, whatever you decide to do, I’m here. I’ve always got your back, babe.”

She pauses, giving you a smirk. “But you know… we’d choose you in the divorce, right?”

You let out a laugh, grabbing a pillow and swatting her with it. “There will be no choosing! And no divorcing! Bucky and I… we’ve been friends since we were five. I don’t know what I’d do if he… if he really was out of my life for good.”

Natasha’s gaze softens. “Then don’t let him be. You’re braver than you think. Just… be honest with him. You might be surprised by what he has to say.”

You fall quiet, her words lingering, filling you with equal parts hope and dread as you lay back, trying to gather the courage for whatever comes next.

The sun is bright, and the streets are bustling as you and Natasha stroll through the city, bags in hand and laughter spilling between you as you move from shop to shop. It feels like old times, light and easy, and after last night’s heart-to-heart, you’re almost… hopeful.

You’re telling Natasha about the cute little coffee shop you spotted around the corner when, out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a familiar head of tousled hair. You stop mid-sentence, freezing as you take in the scene just a few yards away: Bucky, hand in hand with Kate, both of them laughing, utterly absorbed in each other.

Your stomach sinks. You watch, feeling your heart twist as Bucky leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his smile wide and unguarded in a way you’d never been able to see up close until now. He looks… happy. Truly, genuinely happy.

Natasha’s gaze follows yours, her face tightening with sympathy as she watches you take in the scene. “You okay?” she asks softly, though you can tell from her tone that she already knows the answer.

You tear your eyes away, blinking quickly to clear the sting in your eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s… let’s just keep going.”

Natasha squeezes your arm, and the two of you turn, heading back down the sidewalk. But as you walk, a hollow feeling settles in your chest, everything from the night before swirling in your mind—the confessions, the memories, the what-ifs. And now… this.

By the time you reach the next shop, you’ve already made up your mind. Bucky Barnes doesn’t think you’re worth it, and that’s that. Whatever you felt, whatever might have been between you in the past, it’s all in your head.

You glance over at Natasha, forcing a smile. “You know what? Let’s just forget about Friday. I’m not gonna… I don’t want to dwell on it anymore. He’s happy. I’m happy for him. I think… I think it’s time to just move on.”

Natasha studies you, a trace of concern in her eyes, but she nods, letting it go for now. “Okay. We’ll let it go. But… if you ever want to talk, you know I’m here.”

You nod, grateful. And just like that, you tuck the memories away, pushing everything—Friday night, college, all of it—back into a box in your mind.

After a long day of shopping, you and Natasha are finally heading back. She raises an eyebrow at the bags in your hands. “You know, you’re welcome to crash at mine again tonight if you don’t feel like facing him.”

You shake your head, trying to laugh it off. “Nah, I’ve got some work I need to finish up on my computer. Plus, I already paid rent for the month, and you know better than anyone how ridiculous rent is in New York. Can’t avoid him forever, right?”

Natasha gives you a look but doesn’t push it. “Well, you know where I am if you change your mind.”

You thank her and give her a quick hug before parting ways, gathering every ounce of courage as you head home. But when you open the door to your apartment, your heart sinks: Bucky’s there, sitting on the couch—with Kate. She’s nestled beside him, looking as comfortable as if she lives there.

As soon as you step in, Bucky’s eyes shoot to yours, and the intensity in them nearly stops you in your tracks. You can read him too well, even now. In those blue eyes, you see a mix of emotions flickering back and forth—regret, sadness, something that almost looks like relief—but you have no idea which is for you and which might be for Kate.

Kate is the first to break the silence, greeting you with a friendly smile. “Hey! How are you? Did you have a good weekend?”

You put on your best casual smile, keeping your gaze mostly on her and avoiding Bucky’s searching eyes. “Yeah, it was nice. Just got a little shopping done with Nat.” You hold up your bags, laughing softly. “Guess I went a little overboard.”

Kate laughs, glancing at the bags. “Looks like you did some damage! Special occasion or just a treat-yourself kind of day?”

You hesitate, then, glancing between the two of them. “Well, I’ve got a date on Saturday,” you say lightly, shrugging. “Needed something nice.”

“Oh!” Kate’s face lights up. “Natasha mentioned that on Friday. I’m so happy for you!” She’s smiling warmly, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze piercing right into you, as if he’s trying to read something hidden just beneath the surface. He doesn’t say a word.

You force yourself to look away from him, meeting Kate’s eyes. “Thanks,” you say, giving her a polite nod. “Anyway, I should go put all this away.”

“Sure thing!” Kate laughs again. “Hey, if i dont see you before then, good luck on your date—he’s a lucky guy.”

You manage a smile, your heart twisting in ways you don’t want to acknowledge. “Thanks, Kate. You two have a good night.”

As you turn to head to your room, Bucky finally speaks up, his voice a little rough. “You don’t have to go, you know. You can hang out with us.”

You pause, turning just enough to look at him, this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to him and the words that come out cut your throat, you shake your head. “No, I’m okay James….thanks, though.”

And with that, you disappear into your room, shutting the door softly behind you. Only then do you release the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes as you try to settle your racing heart.

----

The week passed in a fog of work and silence, each day dragging as you went through the motions with an ache in your chest that you couldn’t shake. It felt surreal to be in the same office as Bucky, the silence between you heavy and stifling. The two of you used to share everything—your worries, victories, and endless conversations. Now, there was a chasm between you, one neither of you seemed willing to bridge. Each day stretched endlessly, and this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him in as long as you could remember.

At first, you tried to keep things normal, focusing on your work, staying in your lane. But the tension between you was like a third person in the room, and it made everything feel unsteady. You couldn’t help stealing glances at him, watching the way he laughed with the others, though even that sounded hollow. You missed the easy camaraderie, the inside jokes, and the playful banter. Now, every moment felt loaded, thick with unsaid words and unspoken longing.

By Wednesday night, you were drained—emotionally and physically exhausted. You’d promised yourself you’d join the group for Wing Wednesday, but as the day wore on, a familiar dread settled in your stomach. The thought of sitting across from Bucky, acting like everything was fine, felt impossible. So, you stayed home, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, wishing you could shake the emptiness that clung to you.

The next evening, desperate to clear your mind, you found yourself at the grocery store. You wandered the aisles, filling your cart with essentials, hoping the routine task would offer a brief escape. You were reaching for a can on the top shelf when a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey! You’re alive!”

You turned to see Steve approaching, a wide grin lighting up his face. He pulled his cart up next to yours, his eyes warm with that steady kindness that always made you feel a bit lighter.

“Yeah, just barely,” you replied with a faint smile. “It’s been… a rough week.”

“We missed you at Wing Wednesday,” he said, his tone light but laced with concern.

You sighed, biting your lip. “Yeah, I just… wasn’t feeling up to it.”

Without asking, he reached over and took a couple of your bags from the cart, lifting them effortlessly. “Let me help you with these.”

You walked beside him, the weight of your bags lightened by his presence. The chill of the evening air hit your face as you stepped outside, a reminder that life was still moving around you, even as you felt stuck.

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He glanced over, his expression growing serious. “Hey… don’t push the rest of us away. Don’t push me away because of Bucky and his nonsense.”

A sad laugh escaped you, more bitter than you meant it to be. “I’m not trying to, Steve. It’s just… hard. It’s been hard for so long, and… I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

Unshed tears blurred your vision, and you looked down, trying to keep them at bay.

Steve’s expression softened, his voice gentle. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You furrowed your brow, glancing up at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

For a moment, he seemed to weigh his words, as if deciding how much to reveal. Finally, he sighed, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “I’ve been in love with someone too… someone who I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

You felt your heart race, wondering who he could mean. You’d always thought of Steve as your steady friend, the one who was always there. A name popped into your head—Natasha, maybe? She was magnetic, effortlessly commanding any room she walked into.

“Who?” you asked softly, not wanting to pry but unable to help yourself.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place, before glancing away as you approached your apartment door. Ignoring your question, he murmured, “There’s a difference, though.”

“What difference?”

He paused, then looked back at you, a weight of unspoken words in his gaze. “Yours… isn’t unrequited like you think it is.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. “What are you saying?”

Steve held your gaze, his voice firm but kind. “I mean, you don’t see how he feels about you. You’re letting your own doubts twist what’s really there. You think he doesn’t want you, but I can tell you he does.” He reached up, gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

You swallowed, your heart racing. “Steve, I—”

He raised a hand, gently stopping you. “Just think about it, okay? Don’t shut me out. I know you’re hurting, but… my life without you in it would feel empty.”

He offered a soft, bittersweet smile, and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to go, leaving you standing at your door, heart pounding and mind racing.

[imaginedanvrs]

almost doesn't mean never

masterlist

summary: wanda maximoff x reader. '3 times we almost kissed, 1 time we did' trope

warnings: alcohol consumption, lots of angst

word count: 3.6k

You didn’t comment when Wanda repeatedly took fries out of your bag instead of her own, too enthralled in the story she was telling to notice what she was doing. At one point, she even took a sip from your milkshake and you weren’t sure if that was accidentally or on purpose because she had a habit of continuously trying your food whenever you had any. You would always offer to get her her own portion but she would frantically decline only to take several more sips or bites. You never minded. 

  “-and the moment we got back Vis already had dinner made for me,” she told you fondly, missing how your smile dropped as promptly as the anchor in your stomach. 

  “I suppose that was the least he could do,” you said lightly, struggling to hide your disdain for the robot. You would think that after a year of hearing your best friend tell you all about how amazing her boyfriend was that you would get the hang of pretending to like him, or better yet, stop being in love with her. It was never that easy. 

  “It’s not that simple for him,” Wanda defended with a soft chuckle that even the angels in heaven would have a hard time rivalling. “He has no taste buds,” she said simply. “Your cooking is far superior,” she told you, peering out at the car park and giving you the chance to admire her side profile. 

  The casual compliment gave you a surge of pride no matter how many times you had heard it before. It felt good to know you had something to offer the Sokovian that Vision couldn’t match, more so when it was something so important to her. You often replayed the memory of the night she was missing Pietro and dropped by your apartment unannounced to find you practising her favourite dish from her home country. It had been hard tracking down all of the ingredients you needed and it was your fourth time doing so when Wanda got to taste it, insisting you had perfected it. You hadn’t believed her until she started crying. 

  “I could have made something for you tonight,” you pointed out before taking a bite of your burger before Wanda decided to start on that too. 

  “I just needed grease,” she admitted, peering around the deserted McDonald’s car park. You were parked in the far corner and probably looked super dodgy to any strangers that spotted your car lurking in the blind spot, but Wanda liked to people-watch from the comfort of your car that she spent so much time in. She said that your car was comfier than hers. 

  “You need a holiday,” you corrected. 

  “We should take a roadtrip,” she said at once. You immediately loved the idea. 

  “Where do you want to go?” You asked, willing to take her to wherever came to mind. 

  “Anywhere,” she admitted, resting her head back to gaze at you with excitement. “I miss spending time with you,” she told you, not having a single clue how much of your days were taken up by you missing her. You didn’t see each other as much as you used to and even when you did get to hang out it wasn’t for as long as you wished. That was partly how you had developed the ritual of going to fast food car parks for your meals, it was convenient in case Wanda was suddenly pulled away. Her job required her to have one foot in her work life at all times. 

  “Me too,” you said. It was far safer to underplay your feelings.

  The Sokovian shifted to the edge of her seat and took her hand comfortably in yours as she often did. You watched as she twirled her fingers around yours, feeling the warmth of the astonishing magic that lay beneath the surface. Her strength was incredible, everyone knew that, but it was the gentleness she coated it with that you had always been in awe of. 

  “Will this roadtrip be just us?” You asked even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen. 

  “Of course,” she muttered, letting her fingertips dance across your palm. “Just us and the road,” she laid on with a smile. That smile made you feel things no platonic best friend should. That smile made you love her. With the way it reached her eyes when it was directed at you, it was too tempting not to pretend like her heart didn’t carry that same devotion to you, that her eyes hadn’t glanced down to your lips as she became just as lost in that fantasy as you. The electricity that charged the small space only existed in your world, because for her, it was saved for him. 

  The chiming of her ringtone snapped you both out of your separate thoughts and disconnected your hands just as swiftly. You didn’t have to glance over at her phone to know who it was and you shouldn’t have felt a sting when she opted to answer instead of calling him back later. 

  “Hey, Vis,” she said, voice so tender and yet still striking a blow. 

  You hated that toaster so much.

*

The slight murmur of Wanda reciting the lines of the character’s held your attention far greater than the original could ever hope to. She knew every episode of the sitcom by heart and you were pretty sure you were coming close to being able to say the same. She had been quiet that night, caught up in her own head about the events of her latest mission, so hearing her voice at all was a relief. 

  She had her head resting comfortably on your shoulder so you felt a soft vibration with every mutter of words. You smiled, not daring to move which was easy when she stunned you with her next words. 

  “I want to quit my job.”

  “Oh?” You said casually to her statement you fully supported. You knew she had an incredible role in saving countless lives multiple times a week, but you also weren’t blind to the fact that your best friend didn’t enjoy her job. Unimaginable danger aside, no matter what she did, the public criticised her endlessly and did nothing to ease the gnawing feelings she had that she was a threat to her team and the people she helped. She had come so far in controlling her abilities, but she was only human. 

  “I won’t,” she said. “I just wish I could.”

  “Why don’t you?” You enquired after a pause. Wanda sighed, lifting herself off of your shoulder and bringing her knees up to her chest. 

  “This place keeps me in check,” she admitted. You hated how she talked about herself. 

  “You’re not an animal or a criminal, Wanda. And this team has no possession over you. They can’t keep you here, no one can.” Except someone did. Vision was the only reason Wanda really remained on the team. He had convinced her to. But really, as long as he was an Avenger, Wanda would be too. Yet another reason for your disdain for him. 

  “Yeah,” she sighed, clearly not believing you.

  “Wanda,” you prompted. She looked at you. “It’s your life. You can do whatever you want with it.” She still didn’t seem convinced. “If you want to run away, I can cause a distraction,” you told her, finally earning a smile from the brunette. 

  “I can count on you for anything,” Wanda said simply because it was the one thing she had never doubted. She had doubted her safety as a child. She had doubted Ultron’s intentions. She had doubted her team’s trust in her. She had doubted Vision’s loyalty. But she never doubted you. 

  “Always,” you assured without a beat. “I’ve got your back.” You wished that could have been enough for the brunette to decide that it was you she would run away with, but it was clear that if Wanda ever did opt to flee, she would take him with her and leave you behind. 

  “That might put you in danger one day,” she said sadly, letting her anxieties cloud her judgement. 

  “I don’t care.” You really didn’t. How could you? 

  She smiled at you softly and pulled your forwards slightly to kiss your forehead. She didn’t linger but her lips left a deeper imprint than she would ever know. You had always wondered what her lips would feel like against your skin and it was even better than you had dared dream. 

  When she pulled away and left a minute gap between you, there was a split second where you thought she was about to bring her lips to your own. But that moment passed when Vision casually faded through Wanda’s bedroom wall. She had told him countless times not to do that and you had to use all of your willpower not to scream at him to get out. 

  “My apologies, I didn’t know you had company,” he said but made no effort to turn around. “Good evening, y/n.”

  “Vision,” you replied without looking his way. 

  “You’ve got to knock, Vis,” Wanda chuckled as you subtly placed a couple more inches between you. 

  “Should I come back?” He enquired.

  No. Just keep floating off and never turn back.

  “Yeah,” Wanda smiled warmly at him past you.

  “That’s okay, I should probably head off anyway,” you excused. You had nothing planned and no work the following day so there was no legitimate reason for you to go. But if you stayed you would have just felt like they were both waiting for you to leave. 

  “Really?” You missed her surprise and touch of hurt at your sudden shift, watching on as you stood up from the bed to grab your jacket. 

  “I’ve got some errands to run tomorrow.” Lie. “And it’s getting late.” Not really. 

  “Okay, but I’ll still see you tomorrow, right?” The hopeful edge in her voice was going to stick with you for a while and you knew you were going to be replaying and over analysing it constantly that night. You had a way of hurting yourself with your optimism more than Wanda hurt you with reality. 

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you grinned back at her with sudden ease. You were only getting coffee, but there really was very little that would stop you going. 

 “See you then,” you called as left, purposefully ignoring her mechanical boyfriend. 

*

As far as maid of honours went, you probably weren’t the best. 

  You didn’t carry the enthusiasm that any of the guests at the wedding did and it proved difficult to maintain your fake smile the entire day. You really were happy for her, your best friend was finally getting married to the love of her life, cementing your role as something far less significant. You just didn’t get it, he wasn’t even human. 

  The ceremony was nothing short of gorgeous. It was a small reception, Wanda had been adamant that she wanted to keep it intimate despite Tony trying to throw more and more money at the event and add more guests. But it was Wanda’s day, it was her choice. 

  You had never seen the Sokovian look so happy in her life, or so beautiful. You supposed the two went hand in hand, her joy had always been so warming and infectious that it was impossible not to see the perfection in it. Everything was finally coming together for her, while your world fell apart. 

  You didn’t acknowledge Natasha when she sat down next to you. As much as it pained you to watch, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tender slow dance the bride and groom swayed along to. She looked like a Disney Princess, her dress wrapped around her with an elegance you were in awe of. 

  “I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Natasha told you. You still didn’t look away. 

  “I couldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding,” you muttered, barely audible over the gentle music around you.   

  “Still, it can't be easy when you’re in love with her,” the Russian stated. You noticeably stiffened but didn’t bother to deny the fact. Your heart raced at the confirmation that your feelings weren’t a total secret, but you still knew Natasha well enough to be sure she wouldn’t tell anyone else. “No one else knows,” she assured. “Including Wanda.”

  “Maybe this will be what finally makes me move on,” you wished aloud. Natasha didn’t respond, following your gaze to where the dance had come to an end. Most of the guests were beginning to disperse and you planned to do the same soon, you had already stayed longer than you had thought you could be able to. 

  “Carol’s into you.” You were aware of that, just as you were aware the usually confident Captain was working up the courage to ask you out. It would be good for you if you said yes. Carol was great…

  “One lesbian crushing on another that’s in love with her best friend, you guys are hopeless,” Natasha quipped and you gave her your first genuine smile of the evening. 

  “I know, I know,” you admitted, holding your hands up and chuckling with the redhead. “I should go, see you around, Romanoff.” Natasha waved you off and watched you go with an edge of pity that she knew you would hate. As you reached the door, the redhead noticed Wanda frown in your direction and started after you, swaying in her slightly intoxicated state. 

  “Y/n,” she called once you were outside and finally alone. You spun around, feeling a pang of guilt that you had been caught leaving her wedding without saying goodbye. 

  “Hey, sorry. You looked busy and I…” you hadn’t thought of an excuse and you didn’t have the energy to lie to her anyway. “You’re married,” you stated with a shaky exhale that Wanda wouldn’t have missed if she hadn’t had a bottle of champagne to herself. 

  “I am!” She beamed and suddenly threw her arms around you. You hugged her back with a hesitation you had never given her before, uncomfortable and pained by the feeling of her wedding dress beneath her fingertips. You had swallowed your tears all day, but actually feeling how real it all was threatened to be too much. You just wanted to run home and cry into your pillow. 

  “I just,” she sighed heavily with bubbling excitement. “I’m so fucking happy right now,” she giggled and finally pulled away. “I love him so much and…” she seemed at a loss for words. You were too. 

  “I’m really happy for you, Wands,” you told her, ignoring how your throat felt like it was swelling to the size of a balloon. She grinned and hugged you again, holding you flush against her. 

  “Thanks, y/n. I can't wait for it to be your wedding day.” Her words were as rough as a sucker punch to the gut. Would you even ever have one? Surely. Right? 

  She barely pulled away to kiss your cheek, letting the alcohol do as it pleased and numb the feeling of your hands twitching around her waist at the act. “I hope he treats you well,” you whispered. Wanda smiled and rubbed your cheek affectionately with her thumb, as though she was about to use it to pull you closer once more. You would never know if she would or not, because you stepped away. 

  “Goodnight, Wanda,” you smiled, catching one last glance at the ring around her finger that glimmered under the fairy lights strung above you. They were your final reminder that your best friend was getting her happy ever after, because everything had fallen into place. 

  The moment your back was turned, tears streamed freely down your broken features.

*

You reread the offer letter for perhaps the seventh time that hour, determined to find some fault with it that you had missed before. Regrettably, you found nothing. It was the perfect promotion. Better pay, better hours, better benefits. There was an apartment available just a short walk from the office and from what you had seen from the online viewing, you couldn’t get a better deal on such an ideal place to live. There wasn’t a single flaw that was reason enough for you to turn it down, except for the fact it was on the other side of the country. 

  It wasn't that big a deal. People moved away all the time, it was a natural part of advancing with your life. It just meant that you would have to leave your friends behind, that you would have to leave her behind. Again, that wasn’t really a bad thing. Maybe distance was the only thing that was finally going to put an end to your insistent feelings for Wanda, who had been happily married for nearly a year. It could finally cease your reluctant ‘what ifs’.

  “I knew you would be here,” she called a second before you heard the car door slam shut. You pocketed your phone and glanced behind you. 

  Wanda strolled up the cliff side towards you as the wind gently caressed her hair, though it didn’t seem to ease the concern written over her features. “You didn’t answer my texts,” she said as she joined you on the hood of your car and overlooked the vast ocean stretched out beyond the drop just metres ahead of you. 

  You knew what she was implying, you always answered her texts so she immediately suspected something was wrong. “Girl troubles?” She asked. You scoffed, Carol (sweet as she was) was the least of your concerns. You had only seen each other a handful of times and it felt more like you were hooking up than establishing something with a deeper potential. 

  “Not exactly,” you told her. 

  “Then what’s up?” She asked, nudging your shoulder lightly. 

  “I got a job offer,” you shrugged. Wanda’s eyes widened and she began to grin. Her excitement was infectious.

  “That’s what you’re moping about?”

  “It’s in California,” you said at once. Wanda’s smile wavered, but she refused to let it visibly disappear when it didn’t change the fact that you had a significant opportunity ahead of you. 

  “Wow,” was all she could say. “Have you talked to Carol about it?” She asked even though you both knew it didn’t make the least bit of difference to the Captain what part of the country you were in. You could be on the other side of the world and she would still visit you as frequently as she did. It was clear that the Sokovian couldn’t think of anything else to ask, but it still irked you that it was Carol’s opinion she enquired about. 

  “No, we don’t talk about that stuff,” you dismissed. 

  “Really? It’s a big deal.” You could see her frowning in your peripheral and it was no secret that Wanda had been trying to get you and the blonde to be something you couldn’t. 

  “It won’t make a difference to how we hook up,” you huffed, growing agitated at your best friend’s blindness to where your interests truly lied. 

  “I thought you two were getting closer,” she said slowly, noting your shift. 

 “Carol and I aren’t going to become anything more, Wanda,” you told her firmly, but she insisted on pushing you further.

  “Why?” It was as if she wanted to see you snap and finally admit-

  “Because she’s not you!” You exclaimed, feeling a sudden rush come over you as you let all of the lies you had been held back by all those years to finally dissipate. Wanda stared at you, stunned. 

 “How long?” The question was almost carried away by the breeze.

  “Years,” you admitted, no point down playing the truth. It wouldn’t make it any easier. 

  “Y/n-” she started but you recognised her voice and you knew what was coming. 

  “Don’t. Please don’t,” you begged, tears brewing in your eyes as you realised this could be your long awaited breaking point in your friendship. It was inevitable. It had been since the first day you met the brunette. 

  You took in each other’s drastically different emotions, confirming the alternate cross roads you were about to take. But if that was to be the case, you wanted to have at least one small victory to take away. You cupped Wanda’s cheek as she had done to you so many times before, never understanding the burn you had felt at her touch at the time. She understood it then though, because the softness of your hand protected her from the winds that were picking up and made it all the more tempting to follow your lead as you closed the gap between you. 

  Sometimes in romance novels, they say that the first kiss was better than either of the characters had dreamt of, but that wasn’t the case with your kiss with Wanda. Sure, her lips fit perfectly against your own and yes, the faint taste of strawberry could have made you light headed with a giddy glee. But your kiss was filled with remorse and regret. There was a striking pain to the way your lips moved together and an overwhelming sense of anguish that neither of you would be able to rid yourselves of for quite some time. 

  Worst of all, that kiss was your unspoken goodbye.

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted the chance to feel as lucky as he does,” you told her as you pulled away entirely. Wanda didn’t respond, you didn’t expect her to. She had already given you more than you ever thought possible. So you got off of the hood of your car and Wanda willed herself to do the same, standing back solemnly as you got in the vehicle she would never join you in again. She couldn’t bring herself to watch you drive, nor could you glance back at your best friend in your mirror.

My fault for falling in love with a straight girl.

[brucewaynehater101]

Just a warning, this au strays a bit close to NSFW territory in that it does talk about Sex Workers, but it does not mention or describe anything specific, mostly just discussing how they operate and some dangers they may face working in Gothem.

So, we all know that Tim would do a lot for the mission right? More than most people would. I mean, just look at Brucequest or the fact he came back after his 16th birthday or his first few months as Robin when he was basically Bruce's nanny. He also has many false life's he can slip into at the drop of a hat such as Alvin Draper or Caroline Hill. So why not add one more to those personas? A woman named Jane Doe, a sex worker who works just outside Crime Alley who everyone knows and knows everyone, but no one truly knows her nor have they ever seen her face, if she even is a woman as she uses all pronouns to get just a little more mystery added to them. Their outfit is constantly changing but also very specific, a short and highly attractive dress that doesn't look cheap and a full face mask in the style of Venetian Carnival Masks, Volto design specifically so that it covers his full face but shows striking blue eyes. Those he has colored contacts that he switches around constantly.

The reason that Tim does this is simple. Information. While Jason may be able to ask the sex workers under his protection questions, they wouldn't be as open with him as they would another sex worker. Tim can get information from them, the clients, the shop owners of the area, the homeless, anyone and everyone who is often on the street or connected to it that none of the other Bats would ever be able to get. And through his... services he gets a lot of information about up coming things thanks to a special discount everyone knows about. If you tell Jane a secret they don't already know, you get 10% off his services. Tell him 2 and you get 20%. So on and so forth, but it has to be things that Tim didn't already know and he's more than happy to hear about which rouges are hiring at the moment and when they stop hiring, after all, what easier way to predict when they are gunna do stuff than by when they get new henchmen?

A lot is known about Jane Doe, yet also nothing is known. Jane doesn't keep any of the money he makes, giving it to the other girls and often extra as well. No one knows where she keeps getting 100s of dollars to just *give* them but she does. Jane has three brothers, a sister, and a father but no mother. They don't know their names, simply knowing them as N, H, C, R, and B. Whoever they are, they're a well off family but they aren't good to Jane, bad enough that Jane feels safer on the corners of Gothem than the comfort of her home. They know from "funny" stories he tells about his family or via them asking about scars he forgets misses when he covers himself in makeup (there are so many, what have they done to you child?) And him always telling something close to the truth.

They know that N is his oldest brother and the only one who cared about him for a long time, who helped him and was the first person who ever made him feel truly happy. They also know that N took something very precious from Jane Doe without Jane's permission and shattered their trust in N. Tim never told them what was taken or that it was Robin, but in a profession like the one he shares with them, they all come to the same conclusion about what was taken and why Jane might seek comfort in this line of work.

They know that H is also his older brother and has hurt Jane often. They know that the slight scar on his neck he covers with a choker or makeup was made by H, as was the bullet scar in his leg. He laughed about that one, telling his friends how H had set down one of his guns after cleaning it, R picked it up and accidentally fired it, and it bounced twice before going clean through Tim's leg. He laughs about how mad H was at both of them and how he yelled at them to not tell B or else, using a mocking tone and laughter that only causes the others to glance at eachother in worry over their friend. Tim makes sure to reassure them that he got to the blood before it dried so it wasn't to hard to clean up. Tim may have read it as anger in Jason's voice when he said to not tell, but actually it was panic and worry about Tim's wound and how Bruce would react.

They don't know much about C, only that she managed to escape the hell hole known as Gothem and lives in another country. Sometimes she comes back for visits and Jane is always very excited when she does.

The other Sex Workers don't like R. They know that R has either threatened Jane with sharp objects or actually harmed her with them many times but has never gotten in trouble for it. Any time Tim has some left over injuries from patrol, he plays it off as either R or H getting agressive with him again and tries to calm them by saying, "oh come on. Both of them have only tried to *actually* kill me twice! It's fine guys, they won't seriously injure me." While having 5 stitches in his arm.

Jane doesn't talk about their Dad much, always getting quiet and looking away when he's brought up. They ask if B has ever hit him and Jane says, "he doesn't hit me anymore." And all of them want to kill him. They want to kill all of them (except maybe C) and bury their bodies where they'll never be found.

Of course, none of the Bats know about Tim's other nightly activities and where he gets his info from, simply shrugging and moving along. Tim is terrified of any of them accidentally finding out. But unfortunately that day could be coming soon as one of the workers goes to The Red Hood and grabs him by the jacket saying, "you're supposed to protect us right? That's what you promised us, isn't it? Saftey? Well one of the others, Jane, is in deep trouble. Their family is gunna *kill* them. Do whatever you need to do to keep Jane safe from those monsters, we'll tell you what we know, but stop them before she's just another dead body in Gothem Harbor. Do we need to pay you? We'll pay you however much it takes for you to make them pay."

This does remind me of a few fics that go over Tim's "Caroline" identity combined with the idea that Bruce was worse to Tim during his Robin years. Some fics do go into Tim having to go so far as actually having sex with people while some don't.

There are also a few fics of Tim going undercover in Crime Alley as a stripper, cocktail server, sex worker, or other when Red Hood finds out and loses his shit.

The idea of Tim using a fake identity to vent about his family issues is a really cool concept! It would allow him to see how the actions done against him were shit and not okay. He may have the mindset that his trauma is fine because it happened to him, but the separation of identities may help start that realization process. I'm also all here for the identity shenanigans of someone trying to save Jane from her family and accidentally going to one of the people who's hurt them. Lovely amounts of mixed emotions there.

This fic/AU would need to be careful to address both the trauma of Tim selling himself at such a young age as well as still treat sex workers with respect, individuality, and care. It would also be cool to see how the inner workings of the sex industry may be affected by Gotham (such as rogues, toxins, corruption, wealth disparity/poverty, etc).

But yeah! Lots to explore in this AU. I wonder if Tim, in this one, cares about pronouns or gender identity. Does he enjoy crossdressing, does he experiment with his gender identity, and does he make distinctions? I think it would be cool to indicate he's closer agender but is fine with whatever. I like to imagine, in this AU, that he simply doesn't care what gender identity he's perceived as unless that identity needs a specific gender.

Anyways, I am curious about how Red Hood reacts to his characterization by Jane. I wonder if she seems to be wary or distant from him before he finds out that's Tim. Hopefully, Jason tries not to take Jane's hesitance personally. Just because Red Hood is established as a protector doesn't mean that Jane would trust him. They may have their own reasons/experiences not to that has nothing to do with the anti-hero.

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part3

multipart story! part1 part2 next

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

The party continued, the room filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of conversation. Anna and Liam were making their rounds, thanking guests and basking in the joy of their engagement. Lando and Y/N found themselves in the same group, surrounded by mutual friends who were conspicuously trying to get them to speak.

"So, Lando, tell everyone how you had a great race last week," George said, trying to break the ice as they all stood together.

"Yeah, it was a good one," Lando replied, his eyes flicking briefly to Y/N before looking away. "A lot of hard work paid off, all those endless hours and sim racing. I guess it was all worth it."

"Y/N, how's the business going? I saw your latest campaign. It's amazing!" Claire chimed in, trying to steer the conversation.

"Thanks Claire!," Y/N said, smiling politely. "The team has been incredible. We’re launching another project next month that I’m really excited about. You remember what I told you about when we were in school? The whole collaboration? It's finally coming to life!"

The tension was palpable, each word carefully chosen, each glance weighted with unspoken history. Their friends exchanged nervous glances, hoping for a breakthrough.

"Y/N, didn’t you go on a date last week?" George asked innocently, completely aware unaware of the brewing storm.

Y/N stiffened, her smile freezing slightly. "Yeah actually I did. It was a nice evening. He wasn't busy on his phone with calls all the time and.. yeah it felt good."

Lando's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t say anything, but the judgement was clear on his face. He turned to George, a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Must be nice to have so much free time to date around. Not everyone can afford such luxuries. Or have that much time to waste."

Y/N scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritation. Intentionally avoiding speaking to Lando, Y/N Addressed Clare, "You know Clare, some of us manage to balance our personal lives and careers. It's called multitasking."

"Multitasking, huh?" Lando said, still addressing George but clearly referring to Y/N. "Seems like some people are just good at juggling multiple things at once and not really excelling at anything in specific. Some of us like to be the best at what we do."

"Yes, some people are good at multitasking because they can handle the pressure," Y/N shot back, looking at Claire instead of Lando. "It's amazing what you can accomplish when you’re not distracted by racing around in circles."

The group fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Anna, sensing the brewing conflict, stepped in quickly. "Alright, alright, let's not turn this into a sparring match. It's a party, remember?"

As the night progressed, the tension between Lando and Y/N only grew more palpable. They found themselves once again in the same group, their friends trying desperately to keep the atmosphere light.

"So, Y/N," George started, attempting to steer the conversation to safer waters, "any exciting projects coming up that you can share with us?"

Y/N glanced briefly at Lando before replying. "Oh, plenty. We're working on something really innovative, but I can't reveal too much yet. Unlike some, we prefer to surprise people with our results, not just talk about them."

Lando's jaw tightened. "Yeah, surprises are really fucking great. Especially when they actually live up to the hype."

Y/N smirked, turning to Claire. "Well, some of us don’t need to hype everything we do. The results speak for themselves."

Lando’s eyes flashed with irritation and he directly addressed the woman he used to love. "Funny, I remember you being quite the hype queen back in the day. Always making a big deal out of the smallest things, could never get you to calm down."

Y/N’s smile was icy. "And I remember you being quite the show-off, needing constant validation. Guess some things never change."

George, sensing the escalating tension, tried to intervene. "So, Lando, any plans for the offseason? A vacation, maybe?"

Lando shrugged, keeping his eyes on Y/N. "Yeah, thinking about it. Might go somewhere quiet, away from all the noise and unnecessary drama."

Y/N crossed her arms, addressing Claire instead. "That sounds nice and boring. I always preferred places with a bit of life. Too much quiet can get boring. But then again, some people thrive in dull environments where it's all about them."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Boring, huh? I’d say focusing on something meaningful is far from boring. But I guess when you’re always looking for your next distraction, it’s hard to understand."

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. "Meaningful? Like endlessly chasing after something you can never quite catch? That sounds quite bloody exhausting to me."

Lando leaned in slightly, his voice low and challenging. "Maybe it’s about the journey, not just the destination. But I guess you’d know all about giving up halfway, wouldn’t you?"

Y/N bristled, her temper flaring. "At least I know when something isn’t worth the effort. Sometimes walking away is the best decision."

George, desperate to diffuse the situation, stepped in. "Alright, enough of this. Stop making this about you."

Lando and Y/N fell silent, their gazes still locked in a silent battle of wills. The group around them exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to navigate the palpable tension.

As the night wore on, it became clear to everyone that the wounds between Lando and Y/N were far from healed. Their snarky comments and pointed jabs were a stark reminder of the unresolved feelings still lingering between them, making the night a volatile mix of celebration and unspoken conflict.

"Excuse me, I need some air," Y/N said, forcing a smile.

Y/N walked away, her heart pounding. The night had been difficult enough without Lando's snide remarks. She stepped out onto the terrace, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

Back inside, Lando watched her go, his expression unreadable. He knew he had crossed a line, but the idea of Y/N moving on, dating someone else, had stirred something raw inside him. He turned back to the group, trying to ignore the feeling of regret gnawing at him.

"Anyone need a drink?" he asked, heading to the bar to escape the awkwardness.

Anna exchanged a look with Liam, her worry evident. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she murmured.

Liam nodded, watching Lando walk away. "They’ve got a lot of unresolved issues. Maybe tonight will help them start to deal with it."

The tension between Lando and Y/N was electric, an unspoken force that drew them together even as they tried to pull apart. Every glance, every word exchanged, carried the weight of their shared history—years of friendship, love, and heartbreak. Their chemistry crackled in the air, a potent mix of unresolved emotions and lingering attraction.

As the night drew to a close, they found themselves standing on opposite sides of the room, their eyes meeting across the distance. In that moment, the noise of the party faded away, leaving only the two of them locked in a silent, intense gaze. The space between them felt charged, filled with everything they had left unsaid.

Neither moved nor spoke, but the connection between them was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could ignore. It was clear to anyone watching that despite the bitterness and hurt, the bond between Lando and Y/N was far from broken. It was a reminder that some connections are too deep to sever, leaving an imprint that time and distance could never fully erase.

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[nightlyrequiem]

General and Relationship Headcanons

Mostly just me rambling about Valeria because she’s all I think about all day everyday <3

This is pretty unstructured

Valeria Garza was a mean girl in high school. She wasn’t popular by any means, she was just really mean and aggressive. She had a habit of getting into physical fights. She’d swing on anybody, boy or girl.

She’s a raging lesbian. (I don’t make the rules.) She probably hasn’t had many girlfriends though because Las Almas has a smaller, more traditional population. During her military days I can definitely see her hooking up with at least one of the other women in her unit, fraternization be damned. It ended when the woman didn’t want anything serious.

She had no romantic or sexual relations with Alejandro. I refuse to entertain the idea at all for my own sake.

I like to think she’s 5’6 to 5’7 and around 135lbs. Perhaps 140lbs. Shes around the same age as Alejandro and Rudy. You have to have around 22 years of experience to become a colonel, which Alejandro is, so that sets them around their late thirties to forties. I think Valeria sits at 38.

She has a short temper and not much patience. Especially with the men who work for her. (And men in general.) She feels pressured to make them afraid of her because since she’s a woman she knows they don’t respect her as much as they would a man. She’s not afraid to stab people in the back and she believes everyone is like that. Loyalty can be bought by the highest bidder so she’s always prepared for a betrayal.

The general public don’t know that she’s El Sin Nombre, and most of her own cartel are unaware as well. Only three or four get the privilege of knowing and even then she doesn’t trust them completely.

The cartel wasn’t as influential before she took it over. La Araña liked to do business under the table and out of sight if he could. Because of that, it was smaller. Still making bank but not as much as it could in Valeria’s opinion. She saw an opportunity to line her own pockets and make Las Almas just a little stronger. She used bribery, violence, and fear to her advantage. Killing and displaying anyone who got in her way and building important building to gain public support. All while hiding behind the Sicaria title.

She grew up poorer than the other children. Money is one of her biggest motivators. She was always envious of the other kids who got to go on trips or get new things often. She felt she was dealt a bad hand in life and it turned her bitter. Because she didn’t grow up with a lot of money I think she has spending guilt. She’ll splurge sometimes but she doesn’t own five fancy cars and a huge house. She probably has a smaller private property somewhere and conducts her business at Diego’s villa.

She’s an attractive woman, and she knows it. She’ll still put on a little makeup though. She’ll touch up her brows and put on mascara. She has no one to impress but she knows she’ll be taken more seriously if she’s perceived as attractive.

Valeria doesn’t do flings. Shes not some hopeless romantic, she doesn’t date around hoping to find the one. But, if she’s going to make herself vulnerable to another human being, physically or emotionally then she isn’t going to do it for someone who’s not going to appreciate it. The payoff needs to be worth the price. She learned her lesson.

She’s not the type to be soft and sweet in a relationship. She has her moments of course, but I can’t see her constantly calling you pet names and clinging to you. Her love language is acts of service. She’ll cook you food, bring you something to drink if you mention being thirsty, simple things she can do to make your life a little more convenient. If her you happen to be someone in her cartel she’ll show she cares by keeping a closer eye on you.

One of the men keeps making you uncomfortable? She’ll make sure you don’t have to interact with him. She’ll give you safer tasks and pay you a little more than the others. She might try to convince you to just quit all together. You’d be safer and happier tending to the home, she’s sure. She also just wants you to be financially dependent on her to make it harder to leave. Not that you’d want to. Shes a great girlfriend.

Just not during fights. She loves you but she has a nasty habit of blowing up at you. She’ll say things she knows will hurt you. There’s also the fact that she works a lot. She puts a lot of her time into the cartel. In keeping it going. You might feel lonely and neglected while with her.

She does love you. Even if she calls you replaceable she doesn’t mean it. If you get fed up and try to leave she’ll pull out the crocodile tears. It’s undignified, but she’s convincing enough with her promises to change and her woe-is-me act that you’d feel too guilty to leave.

If that doesn’t work she’ll turn to the only other thing she knows, threats of violence.

She also has jealously issues. She is territorial. She doesn’t make it obvious but she’s jealous of your friends. She doesn’t like your male friends even if you’re a lesbian yourself, and she views your female friends as potential competition regardless of their sexual orientation.

She won’t whine about it, but if you spend too much time with your friends she’ll take it out on you without telling you why. She’ll be snappy, give you the cold shoulder. Which ultimately leads into another fight. She doesn’t understand why you need friends. She doesn’t have friends and she’s fine.

She’ll make it up to you by buying you gifts. She’s not one to spend frivolously but she’ll drop a pretty penny on something if she thinks it will make you forgive her. You mentioned an article of clothing in a passing conversation five weeks ago? Well Valeria remembered and now it’s carefully folded up on the bed waiting for you. She sees a piece of jewellery that she knows you’ll like? It’s yours, but only if you forgive her.

Her favourite colour is pink. Her bedsheets are pink. Her nails are canonically pink. I don’t make the rules, her favourite colour is pink.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Honestly, after finding out that most of the bosses are optional except for Messmer (and of course a few others) just makes it even more sad for me. After finding out the Rellena and Gaius are both optional bosses and not Messmer just shows that those two truly don't share the same fate and Messmer was to truly die alone without ever seeing Marika as well.

yeah and you know the even more messed up part? i think when Marika shattered the Elden Ring, she probably thought that Messmer would be safer in LoS 😭😭 they were separated, but at least her firstborn wouldn't be pulled into the power struggle that would tear everything apart in the Lands Between. and it's true. when we get there... Messmer is safe in Shadow Keep.

ppl in LoS has no idea the Elden Ring was shattered, they just thought it was some serious stuff going on in LB. Messmer was dispirited and sounded tired, but he had resigned to the fate of never seeing his Mother again. if we never showed up i think he'd have no problem waiting for a miracle from her forever.

hell, he didn't even give two fucks that Miquella was going there to become a new God and take his old friend as Consort, or Godwyn knights were running around trying to find a body replacement for their Prince. but well, we have to barge into his house and trigger all his anxiety at a same time because we need his Kindling to go stop Miquella. holy hell.

and don't get me wrong, i understand that thematically, both he and Marika get what is due to them. in their quest for revenge they have done truly horrible crimes, and in the end even their love for each other got twisted into a final curse sealing their fates. but all of it is just so tragic. because, yes, the love was there. maybe it could have gone a lot easier for everyone involved if the love hadn't been there, but it was, and now everyone suffers.

and if you think back about the Dark / Abyss theme in DS1, Manus - Father of the Abyss, was once human. he was consumed by the Abyss because his humanity went wild, trying to look for something that he had lost:

"This extraordinary soul is a viscous, lukewarm lump of gentle humanity."

"The will feels envy, or perhaps love, and despite the inevitable trite and tragic ending, the will sees no alternative, and is driven madly towards its target."

it circles back so perfectly to Marika and Messmer's fates that it got me sitting there staring at a wall. jfc. how the hell did Fromsoft do this again?