#I’m the second person I know to ever have

[focusonkayjay]

stuck with you | (1/??)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: computer sci major/ shy/ nerdy! jungkook, econ major/ popular/ influencer! reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Summary: Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.

Word Count: 18.8k+

Chapter Warnings:  jungkook wears GLASSES !!!! oc has like a whole abg vibe/ style going on if ykwim, jungkook is really awkward but he's a cutie patootie and actually a huge simp for oc cause he can never say no to her, yoonmin couple, random computer sci and econ things that may be inaccurate (pls don't come for me, this is literally just a fanfic :p) , morning wood, vine references, nerdshaming (???), oc is just an oblivious girlie, mature language, lmk if i missed anything.

cher's notes: THE FIRST PART OF SWY IS HERE !!! first, a huge thank you for 900 followers—i can’t even begin to wrap my head around it. it’s surreal to have so many of you here, supporting me, and i appreciate it more than words can say. truly, thank you. second, i’m so grateful to everyone who’s been looking forward to this little mini-series. writing it has been such an experience, and honestly, i think i’ve fallen a little too hard for this jungkook. also, fun fact: i had to do a whole deep dive on rubik’s cubes for this because, for some reason, i never realized that a 3x3 wasn’t the only variation out there lmao. anywaysss, i’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, so let me know what you think !! and stay tuned for the upcoming chapters <333

★ PLAYLIST ★ MOODBOARDS

one: close, but not too close

Jungkook nearly chokes on his ramune soda, the fizz catching at the back of his throat as his fingers fumble to pause the very intense anime scene playing on his monitor when he hears you kick his door open. 

"Kook!! Code Red!! Nail Crisis—We're Talking National Emergency!!" you announce, eyes wide as you wag your phone in the air, making your way towards him. He blinks, his brain struggling to catch up but you're already in his space, shoving your phone dangerously close to his face. 

"Choose." you command and Jungkook leans back against his gaming chair, adjusting his glasses as he tries to focus on the screen. 

Two nail designs stare back at him. Right side: pink, glittery, bow charms—so sweet it looks like it might summon a fairy princess. Left side: silver chrome, the tips are pointy and probably even sharp enough to lowkey stab someone.

Nail lingo? Yeah, he's heard you ramble about it—coffin something, almond something, acrylic something—words that sound more like architectural blueprints or dessert flavors than beauty terms. 

Honestly, trying to keep up with your world sometimes makes his brain overheat, but this? This he can manage.

He's used to this by now since it comes with the territory of being your roommate. The unofficial side quest of being your personal beauty advisor. Nail designs, outfit dilemmas, lipstick shade debates... he's seen it all. 

Sometimes he feels like he's living inside a live-streamed Vogue consultation, except the model is you, and the consultant is him—armed with nothing but vibes and the occasional "Yeah, that looks cool."

As of now, his inner gamer kicks in as he nibbles on his lower lip, observing the two pictures closely. Chrome looks like it could belong to a cyberpunk warrior or, at the very least, serve as a cool weapon so that's what he goes for. "This one." he taps the silver nails with a sense decisiveness. "It looks very cool." he adds with a smile. 

"Oh my god, YES. I was literally thinking the exact same thing." you squeal, clearly overjoyed making Jungkook chuckle under his breath. He knows—has known for a while now—that even if he picked the pink set, you'd probably still go with the design you wanted anyway. 

But that's fine. He's just happy to be here.

He watches as you move away from his chair and casually flop onto his bed like it's your own, scrolling through more inspo pics as you ramble on about appointment slots and some nail tech named Jiwon. 

You glance over, catching Jungkook listening—really listening—despite the fact that none of this is remotely relevant to him. He's nodding along with the corners of his lips faintly curved. 

He doesn't interrupt, doesn't tell you to leave, doesn't look the slightest bit annoyed because he's simply patient like that and that's what makes him so special. 

It's been a little over a year since you became roommates with Jungkook. 

Two months into freshman year, when you were drowning in campus chaos, you desperately needed a place... something close to university, something that didn't involve suffocating dorm curfews, passive-aggressive bathroom schedules, and the horror of communal showers.

Apartment hunting was hell, but then you somehow stumbled upon Jungkook's listing. He was a computer science major at your university, had a vacant room, and was looking for someone to split the rent. 

Practical. Convenient. 

But still, you were skeptical mainly because moving in with a guy felt weird and well, not to forget... guys can be very very gross. 

But the rent was affordable. The place seemed nice. And it was practically hugging campus. So, you took the leap of faith and decided to move in.

And much to your surprise—and relief—Jungkook turned out to be an amazing roommate.

For starters, he was clean. Immaculately so. Borderline obsessive. The boy worshipped his laundry detergent and had the entire apartment perpetually smelling like fresh cotton most of the time. 

He was religious about doing the dishes, cleaned the bathroom when it was his turn without needing reminders, and—bless his soul—put the toilet seat down after he was done using it. Every. Single. Time.

He was a bit of a nerd. No, scratch that—he was a full-fledged nerd. Now that you've lived with him long enough, you can confidently say so and honestly, it's so fucking endearing. 

He mostly keeps to himself, stationed in front of his monitor, either binging some random documentary or anime, playing some random game or just furiously coding. He's the kind of guy who could build a fully functional app over the weekend... just because he was bored.

His shelves are lined with books, mangas and also with rubik's cubes in every possible variation... 3x3, 4x4, 5x5, pyramid-shaped, and some monstrosity with like, twelve sides. You stopped keeping count because at some point, you convinced yourself that they just multiply when you're not looking.

He's super shy and introverted, but wickedly smart. Sometimes, he's fixing the WiFi like a tech wizard and other times, he's helping you with an economics assignment, despite having zero reason to know anything about supply curves. 

But that's just Jungkook. Quietly capable of doing anything and everything. 

And speaking of capable—Jungkook's greatest feat, by far, might be his effortless ability to put up with you.

For someone who had a mile-long checklist for what a good roommate should be... clean, respectful, non-creepy, someone who wouldn't turn your kitchen into a biohazard zone— you were, if you were being honest, not exactly the easiest person to live with.

Not in a nightmare roommate from hell kind of way, but... let's just say, you had a presence. A loud one. 

You took up space... in every sense of the word. You were the kind of person who moved through life with a little extra volume, a little more color, and a whole lot of unapologetic flair.

You were, by most standards, the "it girl" of your university. Effortlessly cool, perpetually well-dressed, the kind of person everyone either wanted to be or be around. You didn't just follow trends... you set them.

Your Instagram is basically a curated mood board that half the campus tries to copy. You party hard, ace your classes when you feel like it, and always look good doing it.

You loved being a girl. You loved everything about it—the glittering ritual of makeup, the art of perfecting your nails, the thrill of styling the perfect outfit, the satisfaction of filming a flawless GRWM tiktok, the way a swipe of gloss could make you feel invincible.

And being roommates with Jungkook meant that, willingly or not, he had been drafted into your little glam army. He was your unofficial cameraman, your personal consultant, your human swatch palette.

You would burst into his room—mostly without knocking—waving a lip tint or eyeshadow palette in hand. "Hold still." you'd say, before smearing color across the back of his hand or, on more ambitious days... directly onto his lips. 

He had, as you once declared: "The most perfect lips—zero pigmentation. Every color looks good on you. It's honestly unfair."

Sometimes, you dragged him in front of the camera for random tiktoks—the now-iconic Roommate Series, which has somehow become a huge sensation on your account overtime. 

The series includes a bunch of videos like: "Doing My Roommate's Makeup (He's Nervous LOL)"   "My Roommate Picks My Outfit (Pray for Me)"  "Trying my Roommate's Gym Workout Routine (Send Help)"  "Cooking With My Roommate (We Almost Burned the Apartment Down)." And so many other classics that your followers absolutely loved.

Jungkook, your shy, introverted, perpetually hoodie-clad computer science major roommate—had somehow become the unwitting co-star of your social media life.

And the wildest part? He never complained. Not once. Never sighed out of frustration. Never rolled his eyes. Never told you to back off.

He just... went along with it.

He let you dust highlighter along his cheekbones because you were "testing undertones". Let you draw little eyeliner hearts under his eyes because you thought "it was cute". Let you turn his forearm into a rainbow of lipstick swatches because you were "deciding on a vibe."

He took your outfit photos with an almost alarming level of precision, learning your angles better than some of your actual friends. He gave honest opinions when you held up two skirts and asked which one was giving. 

You even managed to convince him to record voiceovers for a few of your GRWM videos, purely because you thought it would be hilarious and thankfully, his soft, awkward narration had now become a fan favorite.

Jungkook was everything you weren't... quiet, reserved, more comfortable behind a screen than in front of one. He didn't seek attention, didn't chase validation. He was happy existing in the background.

But for you, he stepped into the spotlight. Over and over again. 

And you absolutely adored him for it. For his patience. For his kindness. For the way he always—always—made you feel like you weren't too much, even when you knew you probably were.

You know that most of the things you say, most of the things you do, barely register as important in his world. But he listens and helps you do it anyway, only because it matters to you. 

Jungkook watches you with a small, almost imperceptible smile as you lie sprawled across his bed, legs lazily kicking in the air while you continue to ramble on about Jiwon and how it's so hard to secure an appointment with her because she's always booked. 

It's endearing. The kind of domesticity he never thought he'd find so... warm. You're nothing like him... bright where he's quiet, bold where he's reserved, yet he likes it. 

Likes you.

Jungkook remembers the first time he saw you so vividly, like it's burned into his brain. It was on the 2nd day of freshman orientation. 

You were wearing these loose, low-waisted jeans that somehow looked effortless instead of sloppy, paired with a top that flashed just a sliver of your hips every time you moved. Your hair fell in layered waves, makeup sharp and glossy, but honestly... he barely registered those details.

What really caught him was your energy. You had this magnetic confidence, the kind that commanded attention without even trying. You laughed easily, made friends within minutes, and seemed to glide through the crowd like you belonged everywhere.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had blended into the wallpaper that day. Shuffling around with his laptop bag, adjusting his glasses every few seconds, hoping no one would talk to him for more than two minutes. 

But he had watched you, just for a little longer than he probably should have and thought to himself, wow.

The thing about Jungkook is, he's always been a hopeless romantic. The kind of guy who cries over romance animes at 2 AM, thinks holding hands in winter is peak intimacy, and genuinely believes kissing in the rain might cure the world's problems. 

He's also the kind of person who believes that when you meet the one meant for you, the universe will let you know with soft bell chimes in the air, a gentle ringing in your chest, like some cosmic signal only you can hear.

And that day, when his eyes first found you in the sea of strangers, he swore he heard bells.

But unfortunately, Jungkook was also more hopeless than romantic.

Approaching girls? Nope. Eye contact? Terrifying. Flirting? That was an urban legend he had only seen in movies. 

Jungkook's never had a girlfriend and high school had been a blur of random girls seeking him out because they thought he was cute, mainly drawn in by his adorable smile and doe eyes. But their interest fizzled out just as quickly as it sparked, the moment they realized he wasn't some effortlessly cool bad boy or charming heartbreaker. 

He was just... him. Quiet. Awkward. 

The boy who took too long to respond to texts because he was overthinking every word, who blushed when someone sat too close, who found more comfort in rotting in his room solving a sudoko puzzle over the weekend, than navigating the social labyrinth of teenage romance.

So, that day at orientation, all he did was admire you from a safe distance, fully convinced you existed in a league he wasn't even qualified to spectate. He brushed it off, telling himself that you'd never ever notice a guy like him and he was almost certain he'd never see you again.

But fate is funny like that.

Because two months later, you were standing at his door with a fresh set of nails and a cool jacket, asking him if his roommate listing was still open. 

And suddenly, the girl who was once nothing more than a fleeting dream was now stealing his WiFi, using his arm as a makeup palette, and casually making him fall for her just a little more every single day.

He loved it when you asked him to take your pictures, loved the way you trusted him so instinctively with your angles, your poses, your vision. Loved that you valued his input, sought his opinions like they actually mattered. 

Loved that you pulled him into your silly little videos, even when he was red-faced and stiff, fumbling through whatever tiktok dance or GRWM voiceover you'd roped him into.

Yes, he was shy. Yes, he was awkward. Always unsure of where to place his hands or how to soften his default nervous smile. 

But it felt good... really good to be included. To be wanted. To be someone you liked having around. 

Because for someone who usually dreaded conversations lasting more than two minutes, talking to you, laughing with you... just being with you, felt like the easiest thing in the world.

"Oh my god, Y/n !!" Jimin exclaims as both of you weave through the econ building, making your way towards the last class of the day. You glance at him and notice the way he's clutching onto his phone, scrolling with his eyes widened in shock.

"What now?" you ask, already giggling as you lean in to peek at his screen. "Your recent tiktok—the one with Jungkook?" He spins his phone around, shoving it in your face. "One. Million. Views. You're both famous, babe."

Your eyes widen, and you fumble for your own phone, unlocking it. The video you'd posted just last week, titled "Styling My Shy Roommate" had absolutely exploded. You scroll through the the screen flooded with heart emojis and a bunch of comments. 

"WHY IS HE BLUSHING LIKE THAT?? I'M WEAKKKKK" "Softboy era activated." "Tell him he doesn't need to pay rent—he can just stand in my living room." "Is he okay? He looks like he's being held hostage but also kind of loving it??"

You can't help but grin as your mind flashes back to the memory of filming it. How Jungkook stood in your room like he was awaiting sentencing, stiff as a board while you fussed over his sleeves and buttoned up the cardigan you had handpicked from the men's section after dragging him through three different stores

He had looked so painfully nervous, wide eyes consciously darting to the camera while you just told him to act natural. Well, spoiler alert, he did not act natural. He looked like he was buffering.

"I swear..." Jimin starts again. "You need to start paying him royalties at this point. That poor boy is practically your unpaid intern." he says, making you laugh because honestly, he's not wrong.

"The comments are killing me." Jimin continues. "He's practically the internet's emotional support introvert right now." he cackles while you snort, flicking through more comments yourself. "I should show him these. He'll pass out." you joke. 

"Or he'll delete all his social media and go off the grid." Jimin deadpans. "He's so shy, Y/n. Every time I come over, he looks like he's deciding whether to greet me or make a break for the fire escape."

"He's like that with everyone. It's just who he is." you say fondly with a giggle. "Uh-huh. But with you? He isn't so shy." Jimin grins, making you furrow your brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying... you seem to be the only one who gets him to break out of that socially awkward equilibrium. Everyone else gets market stagnation, but you? You trigger an expansion." Jimin animatedly explains as both of you enter the lecture hall.

"Oh my god, not you sneaking in an econ joke right before class... please, have some shame." you click your tongue, the mock disappointment on your face making Jimin snicker. 

"But... maybe you're right. We've lived together for over a year now, so I guess he's just used to me. Besides, I annoy him 24/7, he kind of doesn't have a choice." You chuckle. 

"But seriously though... he looked so good in that video, right? Like, you can't tell me the supply-demand curve wasn't absolutely peaking in the comments section." you giggle, nudging Jimin with your elbow.

"Of course you had to drag market behavior into this." Jimin groans. "What can I say? Consumer preferences are shifting heavily towards soft boys in cardigans." you shrug as you settle into your seat.

"And you—" Jimin points accusingly. "—are monopolizing the supply." he finishes, taking the seat right next to you. 

You both dissolve into laughter as you pull out your iPads, getting ready for class. As you settle in, Jimin leans over one last time. "Seriously though, next time you get him into a vest or whatever, you owe him dinner. Or, like... a retirement plan." he says, raising his brows. 

"Deal. But if he quits, you're my backup model." you grin. "I expect hazard pay." he jokes. 

After what feels like an eternity, class wraps up as students shuffle out of the lecture hall. You and Jimin gather your things, falling into step like clockwork, until you reach the point where your paths diverge.

"Yoongi's waiting." Jimin singsongs with a smile, fingers already flying across his phone, no doubt texting his boyfriend. "You literally saw him this morning." You tease, but there's no real bite to it. "And I'll see him tonight. And tomorrow. And forever." Jimin says sassily like he's rubbing it on your face. 

Yoongi, Jimin's beloved boyfriend is a music composition major, and they've been in a relationship for as long as you can remember. They moved in together a few months ago, and though they practically breathe the same air from dawn to dusk, Jimin is still giddy every time Yoongi's name rolls off his tongue. 

Like he's tasting sugar. Like it's new, every single day. 

It's nauseating, really. But... God, you adore it so much because you want that. You want that so badly it aches.

The kind of love that seeps into every corner of a life. 

Because beneath the curated facade... the effortless 'baddie' aesthetic you've crafted so carefully for your social feed, the glossy veneer of perfection, the sponsored posts with captions that take you twenty minutes to get just right, the flawless outfit, the perfect make up, beneath all of that, you're still just... a girl.

A girl who dreams of something gentle. A story that doesn't just make your heart race, but one that holds it. Cradles it. 

You'd had your fair share of relationships back in high school—though, looking back, you weren't even sure you could call them that anymore. They felt more like fleeting situationships, placeholders for something that never quite materialized. 

None of them had ever left you feeling full, like you'd found what you were looking for. 

The guys were either maddeningly nonchalant, treating you like an option rather than a choice, or they messed up in ways that left fractures too deep to overlook—texting other girls behind your back, swiping through dating apps while still feeding you lines about how much they liked you. 

Some didn't approve of the way you carried yourself, the way you dressed, the way you took up space so unapologetically. And instead of embracing you for you, they tried to mold you into something smaller, something easier—something you were never meant to be.

It was like you were always almost there, almost close to something real, but every time, it slipped right through your fingers because no one ever quite aligned with what you thought love should feel like—the kind you'd dreamed of, the kind you still believed was out there.

A love that feels like stepping into the warmth of home after a long day. A love where they peel oranges for you, open a pomegranate for you, or perhaps shell pistachios just so your fingertips don't hurt. 

It's something simple, something almost unnoticed, yet it's there as a quiet proof that they care, that they'd do those little things for you, just because.

Built not on grand gestures, but in the smallest details... like bringing you coffee with your order memorized perfectly, playlists made on lazy sunday afternoons titled with inside jokes only the two of you would understand, the way their arms hold you not just when you're breaking, but simply because you're there. Because they want you close, always.

The kind of love that wraps around you like a blanket, never asking you to be anything other than who you truly are. Something that feels like you were always meant to find each other, like the universe stitched your souls together long before you even met.

A love that makes "forever" feel less like a promise and more like a certainty, like no matter what happens, no matter how hard the world pushes or pulls, you'll always end up back in each other's arms because you're just... stuck together, but not in the way that feels like a trap but in the way that feels like home. 

You've always wanted that. Something like that. And maybe one day, you'll have it. You'd like to believe so.

When you started college, you found yourself investing more into yourself...your style, your confidence, the way you carried yourself through the world. You became your own priority, and it showed. Not just on your meticulously curated social media, but in real life too. 

People noticed—especially guys. They approached you constantly. Some with that awkward, endearing charm, asking for your number or trying to secure a date. Others? Not so much. Your DMs became a war zone... filled with weird, borderline unhinged messages that made you cringe so hard you had to physically put your phone down sometimes. 

Most times, it was a reply to a thirst trap—one that, to be fair, was strictly meant for the girls—yet there's always some random guy trying to shoot his shot or it's a string of desperate comments flooding in, all vying for your attention.

But you knew, deep down, that if you were ever going to meet your soulmate, it sure as hell wouldn't be through a sloppy DM or a thirst-driven comment.

You shake off the thought with a small sigh as you continue walking while the sun hangs low, casting a warm, golden hue over the pavement. The evening breeze is warm as you near your building. 

The minute you unlock the door to your apartment, the familiar sight of Jungkook's sneakers neatly lined up by the doorway makes you smile, signaling he's already home. 

And when you walk further in, you instantly sense him in the kitchen. You carelessly drop your bag onto the couch and drag yourself towards the kitchen, resting your elbows on the island as you watch him by the stove, cooking.

"Oh, hey." He smiles, once he notices your presence. "You're home."

You smile back, moving around the island as you inch closer to him and hop onto the counter, a little away from the stove. "What're you making?" you ask, peering at the dish curiously. It's obvious he's making jajangmyeon—but you want to hear it from him anyway.

"Jajangmyeon." he answers, his lips curling into a small smile. "How was class?"

"Same old." you sigh, swinging your legs lazily over the edge of the counter. He nods at your words, his attention drifting back to the food.

"Also!" you suddenly exclaim, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Kook, your tikok—the one I posted last week—it hit a million views!! Look, you're famous!!!" You shove your phone in his direction, practically vibrating with excitement.

Jungkook's eyes widen in shock, his hands instinctively reaching out to hold your phone, bringing it closer for a better look. "One... One million views?" he stammers, utterly dumbfounded.

Jungkook doesn't even have a tiktok account. Social media was never really his thing, but he kept Instagram around mainly for the reels... the kind that catered perfectly to his inner nerd. 

His algorithm had him in a chokehold, feeding him everything from bizarre mating facts about deep-sea squids to oddly soothing videos of people assembling custom-built mechanical keyboards. Sometimes, it was a guy 3D-printing a fully functional wrench that looked like it could survive a whole trip to Mars.

And, well, he followed you too. 

So, amidst all that nerdy and geeky stuff...your stories, your pictures, your reels (that occasionally included him ofc) were his absolute favorites. But that's a conversation for another time.

He rarely posted anything about himself so it was safe to say his social media presence was practically nonexistent. 

Well... that was until you came along. Because, apparently—duh—he's internet famous now?? The fact that one million people had seen his face was nothing short of mind-boggling.

"Read the comments. Everyone's gushing over you." you laugh, and Jungkook scrolls through the barrage of responses.

"Soft boy aesthetic but he looks like he's seconds from passing out?? #needTHAT"  "Tell him rent is FREE if he stands in my kitchen looking nervous."  "Protect him at all costs."  "I'd give him my kidney"

Jungkook doesn't even know what half of these mean, but he can feel his ears growing hotter by the second. 

"Some of them are crazy, but they're so right. You do look cute." you giggle, looking over at him. At that, Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm... cute?" he asks, as if he misheard you. "Yeah, you're so cute." you nod, a smile spreading across your face, and Jungkook gulps. 

The way you say it so casually, with that pretty smile of yours... god he's so fucking cooked.

"You think... I'm cute?" he asks again as he adjusts his glasses, just to make sure he heard you right. "Duhhh, Kook. Haven't I established that already? You're like the cutest guy I know." you say, your smile widening with every word.

Jungkook swears his whole system just came to a screeching halt. The girl who caught his eyes on the 2nd day of orientation, the girl who he was convinced was miles out of his league, the girl who somehow, magically, became his roommate, the girl of his dreams thinks... he's cute. 

She thinks he's cute.

It's like his mind just short-circuited and it's enough to leave him speechless. He wonders if you know the effect you or your words have on him and all he can do is just stare at you in utter disbelief.

"This calls for a celebration!!" you suddenly declare, hopping off the counter and striding towards the refrigerator. Jungkook blinks, still processing the whole 'You're like the cutest guy I know' thing as he watches you yank open the fridge and pull out two bottles of soju.

Of course. 

He should've seen this coming the moment you made a beeline for the fridge. He's lived with you long enough to know that your version of a celebration involves downing shot after shot until the living room magically transforms into a karaoke room, and you're belting out some sappy '80s love song like your life depends on it.

But he still smiles because the sheer, unfiltered happiness on your face as you clutch the two bottles of soju close to your chest and pull out two shot glasses from the cabinet above, makes his heart do that thing again.

That stupid thing. Where it feels like it's going to burst.

"PUTTTT YOURRRR HEADDDD ONNN MYYY—" A cough cuts through your performance, but you soldier on, determined. "MYYYY SHHHOULDDERRR!"

Jungkook winces slightly, squinting as your voice pierces through the room, raising goosebumps on his skin—not the good kind. 

Now he might be hopelessly, head over heels for you, but for the love of all things holy, you cannot sing. He's convinced that when the universe was crafting you, perfection in every way, it must've thrown this one flaw in, just to keep things fair.

That's what he tells himself anyway as he makes his way over, watching your drunk self standing on the coffee table like it's your stage as you clutch onto the TV remote like it's a microphone.

"Okay, Y/n..." he murmurs, voice soft, hands hovering at your waist, ready to steady you if your balance falters. "I think that's enough for tonight. It's almost 2 a.m. You've got an early class tomorrow, remember?" he tries but you're still going on.

He shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he gently pries the makeshift microphone from your grasp. "Come on." he coaxes, guiding you down from your precarious perch. 

You mumble a string of complaints, the words tangled together in your tipsiness, nearly tripping over your own feet.  But Jungkook's right there, strong and steady, his arm slipping around your waist, holding you up like he always does.

With careful steps, he leads you to your room, the door creaking open as you lean into him, your cheek brushing against his shoulder. You're humming now...some incoherent melody, but he's used to this. 

He's taken care of you like this more times than he can count. And if he's being honest, he doesn't mind. Not one bit. Because even now, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol and your eyelids heavy with sleep, he thinks you look unfairly pretty. 

"Here we go." he whispers, lowering you onto the middle of your bed. You groan in protest, wriggling like a petulant child as he tries to pull the blanket over you. He can see it—the exhaustion you're fighting so hard to push away just because you want to keep this night going.

"Kookie... I don't wanna sleep yetttt." you whine, your voice muffled against the pillow. He only smiles, his heart doing that ridiculous thing again... tightening and swelling all at once, as he tucks you in with gentle hands.

"Kookieee..." you draw out his name again, pouting this time, but he stands on business, adjusting the blanket around you. "Kookie, come onnn..." You try one last time, your fingers curling around his wrist, tugging weakly. "At least stay with me until I sleep. Pleaseeeee?"

And just like that, he's done for because, if Jungkook's being honest, when it comes to you, his resistance has the structural integrity of a wet tissue paper. So, with a soft defeated sigh, he straightens up.

"Okay, fine. I'll stay." he murmurs, already eyeing the chair by your desk in the corner, thinking he'll just drag it over and sit by your side until you drift off. It's what he usually does on nights like this... close enough to soothe you but keeping a bit of space, because, well... boundaries.

But apparently, you have other plans because before he can even take a step towards the chair, your hand shoots out as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you yank him with a surprising force for someone who, mere seconds ago, could barely stand.

It's clumsy and sudden. His balance tips, heart lurching for a split second, and then before he can even process it, he lands right next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

"That's better." you sigh tiredly still holding his wrist as you nuzzle into the pillow and inch just a little closer to Jungkook's warm body. 

Jungkook knows you don't even realize what you're doing, that you'll probably have no memory of this tomorrow but his heart doesn't seem to care about any of that. It's racing like he's just run a marathon, each thud echoing in his ears as he stares at the ceiling with wide eyes. Because, this? This, he definitely did not see coming.

He lies there, stiff as a board, every muscle tense, trying to will his heart into calming down. Minutes pass... though they feel like hours, before he finally works up the courage to glance over at you.

You're still. Eyes closed, breathing soft and even.

Asleep.

He exhales slowly, relief and something else... something dangerously close to disappointment washing over him. 

But this is his chance to finally get up and put some distance between his rapidly deteriorating heart rate and your sleeping form. Because, honestly? Being this close to you is doing things to him and he might actually be on the verge of a cardiac event.

Carefully, he lifts his hand, fingers moving to gently untangle yours from his wrist. But the moment he tries, you let out a small, sleepy whine and your grip tightens instinctively.

Okay. So, not asleep.

Jungkook freezes, hand hovering midair, before letting out the quietest, most defeated sigh known to man. Fine. He'll stay. Just until you fall asleep completely.

How hard can that be?

"Mmm... flowers...? Why does it smell like flowers? Am I... dreaming of a garden?" Jungkook's half-asleep mind stirs, thoughts weaving through the haze of slumber as his sleepy imagination spirals, picturing himself twirling through a meadow, maybe exchanging pleasantries with a particularly charming sunflower.

But the scent isn't fading... it's getting stronger. And it's getting too real.

Then, something soft brushes against his nose, making him twitch. He scrunches his face, trying to escape it, but the gentle tickling continues and suddenly the feeling of something warm and solid pressed against his chest hits him. 

And that's when his eyelids flutter open, pupils adjusting to the faint morning light, only to be met with a cascade of hair. 

Your hair. All over his face.

As realization settles over him like a crashing wave, Jungkook's eyes trail downward... and that's when he sees it. His arm, draped snugly around your waist. His hand resting against the soft fabric of your shirt. Your lower bodies pressed flush together, tangled under the sheets like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook's jaw practically unhinges.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

Did he actually fall asleep last night? Fuck. He was only supposed to stay until you drifted off—not fall asleep with you. But that's not even the real problem right now because... did he really fall asleep like this? Holding you? Spooning you? His brain short-circuits, running frantic laps between sheer panic and the undeniable warmth pooling in his chest.

And just when he's still in the middle of processing this ridiculous situation, you shift, pushing back into him, your body pressing even closer, and Jungkook's breath hitches sharply in his throat. His jaw clenches, lips pursing just enough to swallow down the pained noise threatening to escape.

God, you were too close. Too fucking close. 

And his body? Yeah, it's reacting. Predictably. Involuntarily. In a way that makes him want to fling himself into the sun.

He screws his eyes shut, mentally begging for divine intervention or at the very least, for you to stay asleep. Because if you wake up right now and find him like this? In your bed? Spooning you? With that pressing against you?

There's no explanation in the universe that could get him out of this one. No amount of stammering or panicked rambling could justify the very obvious, very mortifying problem currently happening beneath the covers.

Because Jungkook knows this isn't just his usual morning wood. In fact, this has very little to do with the morning and everything to do with you... and your ass currently pressed against him.

It's almost like his body made an executive decision to completely betray him the second you leaned back into him, and now he's left here... stiff in more ways than one, praying to every higher power that you stay asleep.

He knows he can't stay here any longer. Not like this. Because if we're being honest, this is toeing the line of violating all kinds of boundaries, and Jungkook respects you far too much to risk that. The most practical, the most decent thing to do is to slip away quietly before you wake up and find him in this compromising position.

So, with painstaking caution, he begins to move. He peels the covers back just enough, carefully untangling his arm from around your waist and this time, thankfully, you remain in your deep slumber, no sleepy whine of protest like last night.

He exhales a low sigh of relief when he finally pushes himself off the bed, standing up straight. His heart is still racing, but at least he's free. He spares a glance back to find you still curled on your side, blissfully unaware of his internal crisis and then he glances at the clock—there's still a little over an hour before your morning class. 

Perfect. 

Enough time to retreat to his room, take a cold shower (because, God, does he need one), and then start making breakfast. That way, by the time you wake up, everything will look perfectly normal. Like he had the most uneventful, innocent night ever.

So, he steps out of your room, making a swift retreat to his own and then storms into the bathroom, strips off his clothes and steps into the shower. He sighs softly, letting the water rush down his body letting it drown out the chaotic rhythm his heart has adopted ever since he woke up. 

By the time he's dressed in a fresh set of clothes, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, he finally feels somewhat normal again... like his body and mind have called a temporary truce.

But that fragile calm nearly shatters when he opens the door and spots you standing by the fridge, chugging a bottle of water.

"Oh, hey." you croak, lowering the bottle when you notice him. Your voice is thick with sleep, scratchy, and with the way you squint your eyes against the morning light, Jungkook knows the hangover is hitting you hard.

"Just whyyyy did you let me drink so much last night?" you whine, shoving the bottle back into the fridge. 

By the way you're acting, it's obvious you have no idea what happened last night or this morning... how Jungkook woke up with his arm wrapped around you. Spooning you. With... other complications involved.

Jungkook forces a chuckle, a wave of relief washing over him as he quickly regains his composure. "I tried to stop you, but I gave up when you went back for the fourth bottle like a woman on a mission." he teases, gesturing towards the battlefield that is your living room, with empty soju bottles scattered across the floor like war casualties.

"I have class in an hour, and I swear my head is splitting open." You groan, pressing your fingertips to your temples. Jungkook smiles softly, already moving towards the mess to start cleaning up. He would've done it last night, but, well—things had taken a different turn.

"Why don't you freshen up? I'll make you some soup." he offers and you pause, leaning against the island as you watch him bend down to pick up the bottles. 

You've lost count of how many times Jungkook has cleaned up after you, nursed your hangovers, made you breakfast, made sure you were okay. He's like an angel in disguise, you think. And you have no idea how he hasn't gotten tired of you yet.

"Thank you, Kook. Seriously..." you say, voice softer this time, laced with sincerity. He glances up, pausing his movements just to give you one of those warm smiles, the kind that always makes your heart feel full. "Anytime." he says simply.

With that, you shuffle off to your room to get ready for the day. By the time you're out the door, stomach full of warm soup, your headache is nothing but a distant memory. And it's all because of your amazing roommate.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Taehyung's voice slices through the quiet hum of the library, pulling Jungkook's scattered thoughts away from the screen in front of him. For the last thirty minutes, he'd been attempting to focus on the leetcode assessment in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, all that's occupying his mind is you. 

He just can't seem to stop thinking about you... how you called him cute last night, how you leaned into him when you were tipsy, the scent of you hair, how warm and soft you felt pressed against him this morning. 

Jungkook clears his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and quickly brings his focus back onto the screen, eyes darting across the lines of code, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if trying to will himself into action. But it's no use.

"Yeah... I just... I was just trying to figure this code out." he lies, forcing the words out as smoothly as possible. But Taehyung, ever the perceptive one, doesn't buy it even for a second. He leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes, clearly not convinced. "It's Y/n again, isn't it?" he raises an eyebrow.

Taehyung was one of the first friends Jungkook made at university. They shared the same major, and if Jungkook was being honest with himself, he liked to think of them as kindred spirits. Of course, calling them similar might be a bit of a stretch, but it was safe to say they were the same person, just in different fonts.

For starters, they both shared the same nerdy interests... coding, anime, and all things geeky, but when it came to personality, they were worlds apart. 

Unlike Jungkook, Taehyung was bright, outgoing, and confident. He had this infectious charisma that seemed to draw people in effortlessly, and on top of that, he was also the star player of the university's soccer team. 

It was Taehyung who first approached Jungkook for a paired assignment at the start of the first semester, and that's how their friendship began to form. Over time, they grew close, and now, after spending so much time together, Taehyung had become well aware of Jungkook's deep feelings for you... something Jungkook had reluctantly confessed after a lot of prodding.

Taehyung was, unfortunately, very good at getting people to open up, and Jungkook was no exception. He could be annoyingly persistent when it came to matters of the heart.

"No." Jungkook scoffs, but Taehyung, ever the observant one, immediately catches the bright red hue creeping up his ears. A grin spreads across Taehyung's face as he leans in, elbowing Jungkook. "Come on, tell me what happened now?" he prods as usual.

"Nothing, Tae. Leave me alone and focus on your work." Jungkook mutters, his tone flat, hoping to brush the conversation aside.

Taehyung, however, isn't so easily deterred. "Hey, come on, is it really that bad? I just want to know how things are going with your roommate." he says, with a pout. "You know, the roommate you're so hopelessly in love with." he adds with a smirk.

Jungkook throws a sharp glare at him. "Watch your mouth." he warns, though a part of him knows Taehyung is only doing this to get a rise out of him. 

"Honestly..." Taehyung starts again, resting his chin on his hand. "I don't know how you do it. Living in the same house with the girl you've liked since the very first time you saw her, all while concealing your very real romantic feelings for her...." He pauses, giving Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. 

"That is not for the weak, Kook. You're just built different because seriously I would have combusted by now."

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the screen, fingers tapping the keys though he's barely processing what he's typing. "It's not that easy." he says casually, trying to brush off the weight of the conversation. 

"It's... kind of sickening sometimes, you know? Being under the same roof with her.. seeing her every day... and knowing I'm probably nowhere near her league..." He sighs, meeting Taehyung's gaze again, an almost resigned look in his eyes.

Taehyung's playful expression softens and he leans in a little, lowering his voice. "Hey... don't do that. Don't sell yourself short." His words are gentle but firm. 

"I'm pretty sure Y/n isn't the kind of person who cares about stuff like 'leagues.' And honestly, that whole idea? It's bullshit. No one's out of anyone's league, Kook. Relationships aren't about rankings. They're all about connection. About how you make each other feel."

Jungkook's fingers slow to a stop, his eyes flicking towards Taehyung, searching for something—reassurance, maybe. "If you're genuine, if you care about her the way I know you do, that's what matters. It's not about being the 'best' or 'coolest' guy. It's about being the right person for her.

Jungkook inhales slowly, carefully absorbing Taehyung's words. Maybe he's right. Maybe everything Jungkook has built up in his mind... the leagues, the what-ifs, the invisible walls, maybe they're all just ghosts of his own making.

But still... that gnawing insecurity, the self-doubt that's burrowed so deeply into his chest, it clings to him like a second skin. 

Because, god, he wants it. He wants everything with you. He wants to hold your hand, wants to hold you close.  He wants to do all the little things for you, the ones that might seem trivial to someone else but mean everything to him. 

Like making you your favorite breakfast, folding your laundry because you forgot again, or fixing your ring light when it flickers out right before you film. 

He always wants to be the one you pull into your silly tiktok dances or the one you use as a human swatch palette, drawing streaks of lip stains and eyeshadow along his arm for as long as you please.

He wants to be there—not just as a passing presence—but a constant. Someone you can always rely on, someone who always brightens your day, someone who always feels like home.

But wanting and having—they still feel like two entirely different worlds.

And the thought of losing what little he already has with you... the impromptu friendship, the effortless laughter, the quiet comfort of existing in the same apartment, it terrifies him.

So, he stays where he is. Close, but not too close. Wanting, but never reaching. Because taking that first step feels like standing on the edge of a cliff—one wrong move, and everything could come crashing down.

"Alright, everyone. It's that time of the semester again—time to talk about your upcoming research paper on macroeconomic market trends." Mr. Jang, your eccentric yet strangely endearing macroeconomics professor, announces just as the lecture is nearing its end.

His words send a collective groan rippling through the lecture hall as heads drop onto desks, pens clatter, and someone even mutters a dramatic "Nooo..." like they're being sent to war.

Beside you, Jimin lets out an exaggerated huff, slumping down in his seat like he's just been personally victimized. "Just take me out now. This is where I die." he mutters under his breath. You sigh, nodding in solidarity. "Literally, same."

"You'll be working in pairs." Mr. Jang continues, unfazed by the chorus of complaints. At that, the mood shifts and a subtle spark of hope lights up the room. Pair work is always better than slogging through a solo paper.

People immediately start throwing side glances at their friends, silent pacts being made through nods and raised brows. You and Jimin exchange the same look. It's obvious—you're a team. You've been surviving Mr. Jang's chaotic assignments together for multiple semesters now, and besides, you barely know anyone else in this massive lecture hall.

But then, just as people are settling into the relief of pre-determined partnerships, Mr. Jang's voice cuts through again like a dagger. "But... I'm feeling a little adventurous this time." he grins and a new wave of dread passes over the room. Everyone knows exactly where this is going.

"I'm all about broadening horizons, getting you guys out of your comfort zones. So... I've decided to switch things up. You won't be picking your own partners." he says and the collective mood plummets again and some students visibly deflate in their seats.

Mr. Jang grins, clearly enjoying this far too much. "I've made a list of the pairs myself, and I'll be emailing it to you all by this evening." 

Jimin lets out a suffering groan. "Like this couldn't possibly get any worse." he says and you nod, just as disappointed. The last thing you want is to be paired with some random person in class who either has no clue what's going on or is just impossible to coordinate with.

You've always been the kind of person who loves making new friends, striking up conversations with strangers, and weaving your way into different social circles with ease. But when it came to assignments? That was a different story. You'd rather stick with your best friend, Jimin or at least someone you know, because there's always a silent understanding of each other's work styles. 

No awkward debates over who would do what, no last-minute panicing because someone forgot their part. You just knew how to get things done, efficiently and without the headache.

"Alright, settle down!" Mr. Jang claps his hands to regain control as the students continue to protest. "Once you get your partner, I expect you to reach out, collaborate, and submit the assignment by the end of next month. That's two whole weeks before the finals, so that should be plenty of time, right?"

A few half-hearted nods follow, but it's clear most people are already bracing themselves for the impending awkward small talk and the inevitable "So... uh, how do you wanna do this?" conversation.

"Good. I expect great things from you guys. Class dismissed!"

As you gather your things, Jimin leans in, his voice thick with impending doom. "I swear to god, if I end up with someone who does nothing, and I have to write the entire paper myself... just know, this might actually be my end." 

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you chuckle. "I'll put flowers on your grave." you joke, giving him a wink. "Make sure it's daisies, please." he shoots back as he follows you out of the lecture hall.

The warm afternoon sun greets you as you step out of the building, its golden rays spilling over the campus like honey. You walk beside Jimin, already caught up in some random conversation but it doesn't take long before you hear your name being called— all high-pitched and excited. 

You glance up to see a group of girls waving at you from across the courtyard, their smiles as bright as the sun. You know them, or at least you know their usernames because they're the same ones who're always flooding your comment section every time you post, hyping up your nails, your outfits, asking for makeup links, or DMing you to say you "ate" and left no crumbs.

You giggle and wave back just as enthusiastically, earning a chorus of delighted squeals in return.

Jimin clicks his tongue beside you. "Oh god. Here we go. Ms. Influenza. Ms. Campus Celebrity. Ms. 'Get Ready With Me for my 8 AM Lecture.'—"

"Don't start." you cut him off, laughing.

"I'm just saying..." he holds his hands up, grinning. "Should I get my camera out? You wanna do a quick fit check? Maybe we should go live—'Hey guys, just walking across campus, breathing oxygen, being gorgeous.'"

You swat at his arm, making him snort.

"You're just mad because no one's ever asked you where you got your jeans from." you quip and Jimin gasps, clutching his chest like you've struck him. "Excuse you, these are vintage—thrifted with love. For all we know, the previous owner died in them. Their ghost is probably hovering around right now, deeply offended by your slander."

You snort, but he's on a roll. "And, for your kind information, not everyone can pull off thrifted cargo pants also—what is that? A baby tee? Are you auditioning for Bratz: The Resurrection?"

You gasp dramatically, hand flying to your chest. "It's called style, Jimin."

"Right, right. My apologies, Ms. Vogue."

You both burst out laughing, as you continue walking, ready to head home. You pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling, until you suddenly realize what day it is today. "Shit." you mutter under your breath.

Jimin's head whips towards you, immediately on high alert. "What? Did someone comment some weird shit again? Is this about that guy who said he'd drink your bathwater?"

You freeze, turning to him slowly, face twisted in horror. "Chim, why the hell would you remind me of that?" 

"Hey, I'm traumatized too, okay ??"

You shake your head, trying to banish the cursed memory. "No, it's not that. It's just... it's grocery shopping day."

You and Jungkook have this little system where you both take turns grocery shopping and keep the cabinets and fridge stocked with all the essentials. He had tried to convince you, more than once, that he could handle it every time, but you wouldn't let him. 

After all, you were roommates and it was only fair the responsibility was shared equally. And since he made the last trip, it obviously means it's your turn now. 

"Wanna accompany me??" You glance at Jimin, hopeful and he doesn't even hesitate. "Girl, you're on your own." he says. "Besides, I've got plans with Yoongi." he adds after a beat, making you roll your eyes. 

"Come onnn, you see that man every hour of the day." you groan, throwing your head back, exasperated. "All I'm asking for is one measly trip to the grocery store."

You shift your stance as you loop your arms around his, giving him your most pleading pout, paired with fluttering lashes, hoping it might be enough to convince him. But all your best friend does is look at you with disgust. "Girl, you can literally go with your roommate." he shoots back, unfazed.

"Come on, Chim, you know we take turns grocery shopping. He went last time, so I have to go this time, I have no choice but I don't wanna go alone. So come with me pleeeeaseeee." You drag out the last word, hoping your puppy-dog eyes will seal the deal.

Jimin groans, exasperated with a disgusted look but let's out a resigned sigh as he pulls his arm out of your grip. "Ugh, fine." he relents and his expression changes almost immediately. "But let's go with Yoongi. He can drive us there. You know, in his new car." he adds, already getting giddy at the mention of his boyfriend.

It's your turn to give him the disgusted look now, but you know walking to the store is a far less appealing option and third-wheeling the insufferable couple is a little price you'll have to pay for convenience.

Jungkook rises from the couch the moment he hears the front door creak open. His eyes immediately land on you, followed closely by Jimin and Yoongi, each of you juggling oversized bags filled to the brim with groceries.

"Oh, hey Kook." you exhale, slipping off your shoes. "Hey, JK." Jimin offers a bright smile, while Yoongi gives a small, acknowledging nod as the three of you shuffle inside the apartment. 

"Today was grocery shopping day?" Jungkook asks, his gaze softening as he steps forward, instinctively relieving you of the heavy bag in your hand, his fingers brushing faintly against yours, before you can even nod. 

Jimin and Yoongi exchange a knowing glance, trying to hold back their smiles, before making their way towards the kitchen island. "Yeah, so I had these two help me out." you answer following them as they set the bags down and Jungkook follows suit. 

"You know what happened today, JK?" Jimin suddenly begins, and you immediately roll your eyes, already knowing where this is headed. "Come on Chim, you're overacting" you sigh, moving towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 

Jungkook blinks, slightly confused as he looks at Jimin. "What happened?" he questions softly. 

"We were supposed to be done with grocery shopping an hour ago, okay? But this one—" Jimin pauses to accusingly jab a finger in your direction "—decided to go on a quest for Twinkies."

"Twinkies?" Jungkook tilts his head. That's his favorite snack. 

"Yeah, Twinkies." Jimin echoes, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "They weren't in any of the aisles, and you know what she did?" he pauses again, his lips twitching.

"She caused a full-blown search operation in the store. Had half the staff combing through the shelves like we were looking for some buried treasure." he explains animatedly.

"And then—get this—someone finally dug them out from the stockroom in the back." Jimin finishes while Yoongi leans against the island, watching his boyfriend with a fond smile, as if Jimin's exaggerated storytelling is the most adorable thing in the word. 

Well, though Jimin was being his usual overdramatic self—spinning the story more for entertainment than accuracy—there was still truth in his words. 

You knew exactly how much Jungkook loved Twinkies. He hadn't exactly made a big deal out of it, but you remembered, because he'd casually mentioned once, in a passing conversation that Twinkies were his comfort snack. 

It was a small, fleeting detail, but it had stuck with you and since then, every time it was your turn to handle the groceries, you made it a point to grab a pack—sometimes even three—just to see that contented smile grace his cute face when he found them in the pantry.

And today was no different. Well, maybe just a little because you'd had to put in some extra effort—scour the aisles, rally a few employees, and stir up more commotion than you intended—but in the end, you got them. Because it was for Jungkook. 

"I literally just asked if they had more in stock." you defend yourself as you close the fridge and cross your arms. "Oh, please." Jimin scoffs, though there's no real heat behind his words.

"Come on, baby." Yoongi chimes in. "You know she just wanted to get the Twinkies because Jungkook likes them." he says. "Yeah, like, forgive me for trying to get his favorite snack." you shrug, a light laugh escaping.

"I get that." Jimin concedes with a sigh, though his eyes are still playful. "But was it really necessary to rally the entire staff? You were going, 'No, I need the Twinkies. Jungkook loves Twinkies. I'm not leaving until I get the Twinkies.' Like, girl I'm sure he would've survived a day without them." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Why even go to such lengths for Twinkies of all things?" he continues, exasperated and you simply smile at him, shrugging. "Just because."

Jimin stares at you, utterly unimpressed. "Just because?" he echoes, looking personally offended. "You dragged us through an entire covert operation just because?"

You laugh at that and Yoongi joins in too, but Jungkook only half-hears the rest of the banter because all he can think about is... You did that? All of that... for him?

The grocery trip took longer, not because you were being difficult, but because you cared. You cared enough to hunt down his favorite snack—Twinkies, of all things—like it actually mattered.

He swallows, feeling an unexpected lump in his throat. It's such a small gesture, something others might dismiss as trivial. But for fuck's sake, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He feels all tingly, almost giddy, because you really went out of your way, just for him, just for his silly little Twinkies. 

Soon enough, Yoongi and Jimin bid their goodbyes, slipping out the door and you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile. "I swear, Jimin's so annoying." you shake your head, though the fondness in your voice betrays any real annoyance.

Jungkook chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he follows you into the living room. "Yeah, but he's still your best friend." he says making you playfully roll your eyes. 

"Anyways, I'm gonna be in my room. Need to film this tiktok for some skincare brand." you sigh, already mentally preparing yourself for the ordeal and Jungkook nods, leaning lazily against the couch. "What do you wanna do for dinner? Takeout?" he asks. 

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. "Yeah, takeout sounds good to me." you agree and he gives a thumbs-up, pushing off the couch to head towards his own room. But just as your hand wraps around your door knob, his voice gently calls out to you. "Y/n."

You hum in response, turning to find him standing by his door. His eyes are warm and his expression is softer than usual, almost tender. There's a brief pause before he opens his mouth. "Thanks for getting me the Twinkies." he says.

His words catch you off guard and you can't help but laugh, though it's more bashful than anything. "I swear, Jimin was just being so overdramatic. It's really not that big of a deal, Kook. I'll always get you Twinkies." you say, shaking your head and trying to brush it off, though the way Jungkook's gaze lingers on you makes your heart flutter just a little.

"Anyways, let me know when you're ordering the food, okay?" you say softly after a beat and before he can respond, you slip into your room, closing the door behind you. And as you lean back against it for a brief moment, a small smile tugs at your lips because somehow, a simple thank you from Jungkook feels like the sweetest thing you've heard all day.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. You reach for it, already anticipating the email notification that greets you. 

Sure enough, it's from Mr. Jang, subject line unmistakable—his list of partners for the assignment. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the familiar sense of dread settling in as you brace yourself for the inevitable revelation. 

You swipe to open the email, preparing for whatever name awaits you on the other side, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

"So, who's your partner?" Jimin questions, sliding into his usual spot beside you. "Some guy named... Jaehyun?" you answer, unsure. "Jaehyun?" Jimin echoes, trying to see if the name sparks any recognition, but nothing comes to mind. 

This class is so huge that it's nearly impossible to keep track of everyone's name and face.

"Yeah, I have no clue who he is." you say, shrugging. "Anyways, who's yours?" you ask and Jimin's grin widens. "It's Namjoon."

You gasp. Namjoon—the genius of the class, the one whose name you've heard so many times that it's become a staple in your memory. That explains why you recognize his name and face in this sea of unfamiliar ones.

"You lucky bastard." you say, shaking your head. "I know, right?" Jimin leans back, practically glowing with excitement. "Being partners with Namjoon means that an A is already in the bag."

You exhale a resigned sigh, because all you can do right now is only hope that this Jaehyun guy is someone kind and easy to work with but before you can get further lost in your thoughts, a voice interrupts. 

"Hey."

You and Jimin both look up to see a man standing in front of your desk with his gaze fixed on you. You blink, wondering what he wants. You've seen him around class a few times, but you genuinely have no idea who he is.

"Hi...?" you say, unsure, and the man chuckles softly, quickly realizing that you don't recognize him. "I'm Jaehyun... You're Y/n, right?" His tone is steady, and that's when it clicks, He's your partner for the assignment. 

"Oh hey! Sorry, I'm just so bad with names and faces." you giggle sheepishly as you stand up. "It's alright." Jaehyun replies with a reassuring smile. 

"Anyways..." he continues. "Since we're working on the assignment together, I just wanted to know how you'd like to start." His voice is calm and serious, and the sincerity in his tone brings an odd sense of relief because he sounds like someone who actually cares about the work.

"Oh, um..." you pause for a second, thinking. You know that most people prefer working in the library or just doing it remotely over video calls. But you'd prefer a more personal, comfortable setting, a place where both of you can freely share your ideas and thoughts without feeling rushed.

"We can start working on it at my place... it's near the campus." you suggest. "But if you have any other preferen—"

"Your place sounds fine." Jaehyun interjects with a smile and you nod at his words. "Here's my number." he says, sliding a small piece of paper on your desk. "Text me the address."

Before you can respond, the professor strides into the room, commanding everyone's attention. The casual chatter across the lecture hall dissolves into the rustling of notebooks and the scraping of chairs as people rush to their seats.

"I'll catch you later, yeah?" Jaehyun says smoothly, flashing you one last smile before turning on his heel. 

You offer a polite smile back, but the moment he's out of earshot, Jimin leans in, exhaling dramatically like he's just witnessed a divine apparition. "Wow. That is one good-looking man." His eyes are wide with faux awe, clutching his chest like he's been personally affected.

You snort, giving him a pointed look. "Bro, you literally have a boyfriend." you deadpan, narrowing your eyes playfully and Jimin gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "What, I can't admire God's work? Yoongi would understand." He winks, and you roll your eyes, fighting back a laugh.

But honestly? Jaehyun's face is the last thing on your mind right now. Looks mean nothing if he turns out to be unreliable.

At this point, all you care about is getting this assignment done. As long as he's easy to communicate with and doesn't disappear off the face of the earth when deadlines hit, you'll be more than satisfied.

Jungkook is perched on the couch, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stares intently at the ridiculously huge 17x17 rubik's cube in his hands. He's been trying to solve this for a month now, with no tutorials or help, and he's starting to wonder if he's just too dumb for it.

Each twist feels like it could either be a small victory or an impending catastrophe, and the stakes couldn't feel higher. Every so often, he flicks his wrist or makes some bizarre hand motion that only he understands, like he's performing a ritual to appease the rubik's cube gods.

But just as he's about to make a breakthrough, the doorbell rings, and Jungkook hisses in frustration, as if the universe itself is conspiring to distract him. He reluctantly places the cube on the coffee table, and just as he starts to rise from the couch to answer the door, you're already darting towards it.

He sits back down, wondering if it's just one of those PR package deliveries again and brings his focus back on the cube. But his concentration flickers and dies the moment he hears a deep and unfamiliar voice floating in from the doorway.

"Come on in." he hears you say and Jungkook's head snaps up, curiosity prickling at his chest as he cranes his neck towards the entrance. 

He's expecting maybe a delivery guy asking for a signature, or one of your friends like Jimin or someone, dropping by to gossip, but instead, he sees you stepping inside with someone unknown trailing closely behind you.

The guy is tall and lean, with a backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder, moving with that effortless kind of charm and the moment he steps in, his gaze sweeps over the room, before landing on Jungkook on the couch. 

There's a flicker of something in his eyes but it shifts almost immediately to the oversized rubik's cube sitting on the coffee table and Jungkook is quick to notice the way the guy's lips twitch, pressing together like he's clearly holding something back.

"Oh, Kook! This is Jaehyun." you say when your eyes catch his from across the room. You gesture back at the guy, who offers a lopsided smile. "We're working on an assignment together."

Jungkook blinks, scrambling for a response, but his tongue feels annoyingly slow. "Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, a little too confident. There's a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, subtle but it's definitely there—the kind that's easy to miss if you aren't looking closely but the thing is, Jungkook is looking closely.

And for some reason, it rubs him the wrong way.

He's no stranger to you bringing study or assignment partners home—it's normal, part of your routine. He's done the same, though every time it feels like he's navigating social quicksand, stumbling through small talk and hoping the other person doesn't pick up on his awkwardness.

Still, he stands, out of habit more than anything, flashing a small, awkward smile. "Hey."

Jaehyun exhales a soft, amused huff, like he's holding back a laugh, and Jungkook can't tell if it's just his usual demeanor or if there's something else laced beneath it. Something condescending. But before Jungkook can figure it out, you're already moving.

"Anyways, we'll be in my room, okay?" you inform him with a quick smile, not waiting for a reply as you lead Jaehyun down the hall and before Jungkook can muster a response, the door to your room clicks shut.

He drops back onto the couch, the rubik's cube long forgotten on the coffee table. 

There's this thing—this gut feeling people talk about. This instinct, this unspoken warning system buried deep in your subconscious. Sometimes it's a tightening in your chest, a sudden shift in your pulse, or just a quiet, nagging whisper at the back of your mind, hinting at something your conscious brain hasn't quite caught up to yet. 

It's primal, wired into human nature... the kind of feeling that makes you hesitate before stepping into the dark, or glance over your shoulder without knowing why.

And right now, that very feeling is sinking its teeth into Jungkook.

He can't explain it, can't put his finger on a single, tangible reason, but something about Jaehyun, his eyes, his stance, the way he carries himself—feels... off.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a way he could call out without sounding ridiculous.

He runs a hand through his hair, shaking it off. Maybe he's overthinking it. Maybe he's just being protective... or worse, maybe he's being jealous.

But his gut is still whispering.

And Jungkook's learned not to ignore that.

Surprisingly—and to your great relief—Jaehyun turns out to be an easygoing and cooperative partner. The last hour has been spent deep in discussion, bouncing ideas off each other, sifting through potential research topics, and, somehow, it doesn't feel suffocating.

Jaehyun listens attentively, considers your inputs, and offers his own without steamrolling over yours. It's honestly refreshing.

"So, I guess this is it, then." you say, nodding in satisfaction once the final topic is settled. Jaehyun mirrors your nod, a small grin playing at his lips. "Didn't peg Miss Popular as the type to actually lock in when it comes to assignments." he teases.

You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "Excuse you, I take my academic life very seriously."

"Oh yeah?" He tilts his head. "So if I check your screen time right now, I won't find an ungodly number of hours spent on tiktok and Instagram?"

"First of all...." you say, pointing a finger at him. "That's classified information. Second of all, it's kind of like my job at this point."

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. "Right, right. Job."

You roll your eyes but can't help but chuckle along.

"Anyways..." he leans back in his chair. "How'd you even get into this whole content creation thing?"

You know you should probably steer the conversation back to the assignment, but honestly? You don't mind. Jaehyun seems reliable enough, and besides, a little break never hurt anyone.

"Well...." you start, a little sheepishly, "I was a Vine kid." you say but before you can continue Jaehyun's eyes widen in an instant. "Wait, Vine? As in, six-second goldmine Vine? The superior app?"

"You know about Vine too ?!??!" You gasp, placing a hand over your heart again. "Oh my god. I thought I was alone in this cruel world."

Jaehyun scoffs. "Are you kidding? I lived on that app. To this day, I still quote Vines like it's a second language."

"No, because same." You lean forward, suddenly excited. "Like, I can't go one day without referencing 'It is Wednesday, my dudes—'"

Jaehyun, without missing a beat, throws his head back and screams. "AAAAAAAAH."

(A/N: SORRY GUYSFGJERHG, I WAS A VINE KID—I JUST HAAAD TOOOO. anyways, if you don't get the reference, check this link out hehe)

You burst out laughing, slamming your hand on your desk. "Oh my god. A fellow Vine scholar."

"Finally." he sighs dramatically. "Someone who understands."

You shake your head, still chuckling. "But yeah, I used to make Vines of my own too—though we are not going to talk about that." You cringe at the memory, suppressing a shudder. "So that's where my whole content creation passion came from. Except now, my content is more... I don't know, just stuff I actually enjoy doing." You shrug, and Jaehyun nods in understanding.

"I follow you on tiktok, by the way." He grins, tilting his head slightly. "And I gotta say, your content's pretty fire."

"Oh, really?" You smirk, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Then tell me—what eyeshadow palette did I review in my last video?" You cross your arms, arching a brow because you know damn well your content isn't exactly tailored for a guy like Jaehyun. But teasing him is too tempting to resist.

Jaehyun groans, throwing his head back. "Hey, come on, don't do me like that." he protests, laughing. "I was talking about your other stuff—like your random vlogs, your outfit checks, oh, um—your little roommate series."

"Ah, yes." You nod. "The roommate series' main star was the poor soul you saw in the living room earlier." You giggle, thinking of Jungkook's stiff face every time your camera is in his personal space. "He's my little unpaid intern." You grin, and Jaehyun laughs along.

"Yeah, I noticed. He's on your page a lot." Jaehyun muses, eyes narrowing slightly like he's piecing something together. "I've been wondering though... How do you even convince him to join in? He seems like the... shy type."

You giggle, leaning back into your chair. "Oh, he is shy—painfully so. But..." your voice softens, "He's also the sweetest person you'll ever meet. Never complains. Even when I make him do the dumbest skits, he just goes along with it." A fond smile tugs at your lips.

Before Jaehyun can respond, his phone buzzes. He checks it quickly, before letting out a breath. "Ah, looks like I gotta head out." he says and you nod understandingly. He stands and you follow suit as he slings his backpack over his shoulder in one fluid motion. "Cool, we'll see each other again..." you start.

"Day after tomorrow." Jaehyun finishes with a small smile, and you nod.

"Right. See you then." And with that, he walks out.

Once the door clicks shut behind Jaehyun, you linger for a moment before stepping further into the living room and your gaze naturally falls on the oversized rubik's cube, still half-solved on the coffee table and you wonder what Jungkook's up to right now.

And just then, it's the soft, rapid staccato of mouse and keyboard clicks that draws your attention, so you make your way towards Jungkook's room and as expected, he's there— perched at his desk, headset on, eyes locked onto the screen, fingers moving furiously as he navigates through his Minecraft world. 

You inch closer. "Hey." you call, giving his shoulder a gentle poke. Jungkook jumps slightly, wide eyes snapping to you as he hurriedly pulls off his headset. "Oh—hey." he breathes out, his voice tinged with the faintest trace of surprise.

His eyes flicker past you, towards the door, and for a brief moment he wonders if Jaehyun's  gone. You don't notice it, but Jungkook's chest eases a little when he realizes the guy's probably left.

He won't admit it out aloud, but the only reason he'd abandoned his rubik's cube and holed himself up in his room with the volume cranked up on his game, was to drown out the sound of your laughter echoing from behind the closed door of your bedroom.

He'd told himself not to think too much about it, but the longer he sat there, the more the warmth in your voice with Jaehyun grated against something he couldn't quite name. So, he'd escaped, to blocks and biomes, anything to block it out.

"What do you want for dinner?" you ask. "I was thinking... ramen?"

"Ramen... yeah, ramen sounds good." He nods, already starting to push himself up from his chair, ready to help. But you wave him off with a soft laugh. "Hey, I've got this. You can keep playing. I'll handle the ramen." you assure him, already turning towards the door to leave.

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, because he always wants to help out, but you're gone before he can.

He stays there, watching the spot where you stood for a beat longer than he needs to, before sinking back into his chair. The Minecraft screen flickers at him, but his focus is elsewhere as his fingers hover over the keys.

That gut feeling... the one that first crept in when Jaehyun walked through the door, still stubbornly sits heavy in his chest. But Jungkook exhales, shaking his head as if to clear it. It's not that deep.

He's just an assignment partner, after all.

Right?

Days drift by, and Jaehyun's visits have grown more frequent—so frequent that his presence has begun to settle into the corners of your shared apartment like it belongs there.

Jungkook has started to notice things—small, seemingly insignificant at first, but they begin to pile up like pebbles forming a mountain he can't ignore.

It's hard to miss how comfortable you've grown with Jaehyun. There's an ease to the way your laughter bubbles up at his jokes, the way your hand instinctively swats at his arm or chest when he teases you. It's playful—sure—but it leaves Jungkook with a faint, inexplicable unease.

He tries to brush it off. He really does.

Most days, he sees you both working, heads bent together over your laptops, furrowed brows, quiet discussions filling the living room or your bedroom. There's a seriousness to the project that he can't deny, especially in you because Jungkook knows how dedicated you are when it comes to assignments and projects.

But even then, Jaehyun has a way of slipping in like tossing a joke here or a teasing comment there and suddenly, the air visibly shifts. The work pauses and laughter spills out.

And then there are moments—moments like yesterday—that cling to Jungkook's memory like a thorn.

He had walked in to see Jaehyun playfully locking you in a loose headlock while you laughed, elbowing him in the stomach to break free, but the sight lodged itself in Jungkook's chest like a stone.

It was harmless, he told himself. Just friends messing around. But it was the details that lingered—the way Jaehyun's grin stretched wide, the way your laughter rang unrestrained, the way you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. The way you didn't seem to mind him being so close.

And then there's the other thing. The part that unsettles Jungkook the most.

The look.

Every time Jaehyun is over, he throws a look at Jungkook and he instantly catches it. A look, which is fleeting but definitely intentional. The kind that seems casual on the surface but holds an undercurrent of something else. Something off.

It's not an open challenge, not exactly. Nor is it the the casual acknowledgment guys sometimes exchange to break the ice. It's subtler, more calculated... like Jaehyun's sizing him up, or worse, like he already knows something Jungkook doesn't.

It's the kind of look that worms under his skin.

The kind that feels like someone is quietly staking a claim on something you thought was yours.

And Jungkook hates it. He hates the way it's taking root inside him, how it makes his chest tighten and his jaw clench. He hates that he cares this much. That he even feels like he has something to lose.

But no matter how much he tries to rationalize it, how many times he tells himself he's imagining it... that gut feeling, that unrelenting instinct—remains.

Something about Jaehyun just doesn't sit right.

Right now, Jungkook remains perched on the edge of the kitchen island, one hand resting on the cool surface while the other hovers over his laptop's trackpad. He's trying—really trying—to stay focused on the test flashing across his screen, some tedious but necessary module assessment that's part of his course requirements.

But he can hear your voice, and Jaehyun's, drifting from your room nearby like an unwelcome undercurrent. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to drown it out. He knows it's nothing, knows that you're just working on your project. But the sound gets under his skin anyway.

A few minutes pass before he hears the creak of your door opening, followed by footsteps padding down the hallway. Within seconds, Jaehyun appears—tall frame moving with that easy confidence that's begun to grate on Jungkook's nerves. His eyes sweep the room lazily before landing on Jungkook.

"Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, almost dismissive, and there's something in the way his gaze flicks over Jungkook that feels vaguely patronizing. Like he's acknowledging him out of obligation, not respect. Like he's the one who lives here and Jungkook's the guest. 

Jungkook forces a nod in acknowledgment, fingers tightening around his laptop. Without waiting for a response, Jaehyun strolls past him, straight to the fridge. "Just grabbing some water." he mutters over his shoulder—like he's entitled to whatever's in there.

Jungkook says nothing, eyes flicking back to his screen. He taps his keyboard, more out of habit than intent, willing himself to tune it all out.

The cap of the water bottle twists open with a soft crack, followed by the sound of Jaehyun taking a long sip. Then he moves closer... almost too close, positioning himself beside the island, his body leaning in ever so slightly as he peers at Jungkook's screen.

"What you up to, man?" he asks, voice still light but carrying that underlying tone, like he already knows whatever Jungkook's doing is probably boring. Probably beneath him.

Jungkook stiffens, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He can feel Jaehyun's eyes trailing over his laptop screen, taking in the lines of code and multiple-choice questions.

"It's just a test. Course requirement." Jungkook mutters, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Ahhh... you're a computer science major, right?" His tone is laced with curiosity, but not the genuine kind. It's the kind that holds the faintest trace of mockery. The kind that makes you feel like you need to justify yourself.

Jungkook nods, curtly. "Yeah."

Jaehyun lets out a low, drawn-out whistle, followed by a chuckle. "Damn. Computer science, huh? That's... intense." He laughs before taking another sip of his water, the bottle crinkling slightly under his grip. "Must be tough. All those... codes and... what? Algorithms?" He gestures lazily towards the screen, eyes narrowing.

Jungkook doesn't like the way he says it—like it's a joke, like it's something trivial. Like Jungkook's effort is something to be amused by. "Yeah. Algorithms." he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, though he can feel his patience thinning.

Jaehyun leans in a little, his shadow creeping over the laptop screen. He squints at the test, eyes skimming over the technical jargon as though he's deciphering it, though Jungkook doubts he understands much of it.

"Man... that looks brutal. Don't know how you guys do it. I'd probably lose my mind staring at that stuff all day." He laughs, but it's laced with something condescending, like he's making it clear that he wouldn't waste his time on something so tedious.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek.

"Guess you gotta be built different for that whole... nerd life, huh?" Jaehyun adds, smirking as he takes another sip.

Jungkook forces a tight smile, but his fingers tighten against the edge of his laptop. He feels the implication of it—the way Jaehyun's not just making conversation. He's dissecting him. Testing him. Seeing what gets a reaction. Measuring him up like he's weighing his worth and already finding him lacking.

Jungkook breathes slowly through his nose, fighting the urge to snap back. He's not going to give Jaehyun that satisfaction. Instead, he shifts slightly in his seat, subtly angling his screen away.

"Yeah." he says flatly. "Guess you do."

Jaehyun lingers a moment longer, like he's waiting for more—like he's hoping for a crack to show. But when none comes, he finally steps back, draining the rest of his water.

"Respect, man. Couldn't be me." He the proceeds to clap Jungkook on the shoulder—harder than necessary, his hand lingering for just a second too long before he pulls away. There's something weird about the gesture, like he's asserting dominance.

Then he steps back, water bottle still in hand, eyes sweeping over Jungkook one last time like he's taking stock—cataloging him, filing him away under less than. Like he's already decided he's better.

"You keep doing your thing, though." Jaehyun adds, voice dripping with false encouragement. "The nerd life's gotta pay off someday, right?" He laughs, turning on his heel, and before Jungkook can respond, he's already strolling back towards your room.

Jungkook stares at his laptop screen, but the words blur into a mess of symbols and frustration. His chest tightens with a mix of anger and something closer to humiliation.

Jaehyun knew exactly what he was doing.

And it worked.

Jungkook forces himself to return his focus to the screen. There's no reason—no logical reason—why he should let a guy like Jaehyun get under his skin and make him feel bad about himself—his major, his choices, or anything else for that matter.

He knows exactly the kind of guy Jaehyun is.

The kind who carries himself like he's untouchable, like he's a step ahead of everyone else. The kind who doesn't even have to say it outright to make you feel like you're somehow beneath him.

Guys like Jaehyun think they're on another level... effortlessly charismatic, naturally better, always in control. And maybe, for the most part, they are. But Jungkook refuses to be another person who feeds into that delusion.

So he brushes it off, squares his shoulders, tightens his grip on his laptop, and forces his attention back to his test.

Nearly half an hour passes.

He's managed to focus, even if it took effort, even if his brain kept replaying snippets of the earlier conversation in the background. But then, the sound of your bedroom door opening breaks his concentration again.

This time, it's you walking out first, your laptop tucked under one arm. Jaehyun follows a few seconds later, slinging his backpack over one shoulder with the ease of someone who doesn't have a single worry in the world.

"So, now that we have enough data collected on consumer spending trends across different income brackets, we should start working on the outline of the paper by next week." you say, your voice casual but firm as you lead Jaehyun towards the door.

Jungkook glances up just in time to catch the usual faint smirk Jaehyun throws his way. The same smug, knowing look that makes his skin prickle. Still, as usual, Jungkook ignores it, his fingers tightening against the laptop's edge as he looks back at his screen.

As you reach the doorway, Jaehyun continues to nod at your words. "Cool." he mumbles, proceeding to slip into his shoes. He straightens up as his fingers adjust the strap of his backpack.

He turns around, ready to leave, but suddenly, his hand reaches for the doorknob but stops midway, and you, noticing the pause, tilt your head slightly in question. "Everything good, Jae?" you ask.

Jaehyun turns around, a sheepish smile creeping onto his lips, like something just occurred to him. "Oh, um..." He rubs the back of his neck, playing it off casually. "I was just wondering... it's pretty late, so do you maybe wanna grab dinner together?"

Jungkook, still perched at the kitchen island, picks up on the sudden question instantly and his fingers halt over the keyboard. His back stiffens but his eyes remain fixed on the screen as he waits for you to respond.

"Dinner?" You echo, blinking as though you need a second to let it register. "Oh... yeah, dinner sounds good." you say with a small nod.

Jaehyun's lips twitch into a subtle grin—an almost imperceptible curve of victory, like he's already claimed what he was after. But before he can solidify his win, before he can turn that small triumph into something more, you cut through it with your gentle, unaffected voice.

"Let me ask Kook to join us too!" you chirp, turning back towards the living room without a second thought. "Wouldn't want him to cook alone, you know?"

Jaehyun freezes for half a beat, blinking as the easy confidence slips just slightly from his face. That? That was not what he had in mind.

He was envisioning something different... just the two of you, a quiet dinner where he could lean in close and talk, make you laugh, maybe inch his way into something more. What he wasn't expecting was for you to bring your nerdy roommate along.

Jungkook, from his place in the apartment, hears the shuffle of your feet as you approach him, and he already knows what's coming. He knows you so well. Knew you'd never leave him behind.

For a moment, he lets himself exhale, the knot that had been coiling in his chest loosening just a little. He had braced himself for the possibility of you heading out alone with Jaehyun, braced for the discomfort, the overthinking that would haunt him for the rest of the night.

But you, being you, the sweet angel that you are, would obviously never leave him behind. And that thought, even if it's just for dinner, makes him feel all giddy.

He can already picture the mild irritation on Jaehyun's face. The guy's probably seething behind that polite mask, regretting ever asking in the first place. That thought alone tugs a subtle smirk onto Jungkook's lips... small and barely noticeable, but it's still there nonetheless.

"Kook, me and Jaehyun are going to grab dinner. Wanna come with?" You say it so casually, so sweetly, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like his presence would only make the evening better.

So, who the hell is he to say no to that? Not when you're looking at him like that—eyes sparkling like stardust, lips curled into that soft, pretty smile that feels like it was made just for him. Like you hung the moon without even trying.

And sure, on any other night, he'd probably hate the thought of sitting through a meal with a stranger, especially someone like Jaehyun, but tonight? Tonight, he wants nothing more than to tag along and be there.

Even if it means enduring Jaehyun's smugness. Even if it means biting his tongue until his jaw aches. Even if it means sitting through forced conversations and subtle digs, pretending not to notice the way Jaehyun acts like he's beneath him or whatever. 

Because in the end, being there with you, will always outweigh all of that.

Jaehyun clenches his fists at his sides, as he struggles to maintain the polite, easy-going smile he's perfected over time. It's taking every ounce of self-restraint not to let his irritation seep through as he watches you animatedly chatter about some random show, while your arm remains casually looped around Jungkook's.

Not only does he have to tolerate the presence of this insufferable nerd, but he also has to witness the two of you nestled so comfortably together? This was definitely not the kind of evening he was looking forward to.

Jungkook, on the other hand, barely registers Jaehyun's existence anymore.

He's too caught up in you—smiling to himself as he listens to your endless rambling, the kind that always veers off into tangents, hopping from plot twists to character arcs, and somehow looping back to an inside joke only the two of you understand.

He's so absorbed, so content, that he's forgotten Jaehyun is even trailing along beside you.

"Oh! There's the diner!" you suddenly exclaim, your eyes lighting up as you point towards the familiar spot, the little place you and Jungkook have frequented on countless lazy nights when cooking felt like too much work.

"Let's go." Jaehyun forces out with a nod, plastering on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He trails behind as you tug Jungkook forward, still holding onto his arm, leaving Jaehyun feeling like the third wheel he never expected to be.

When you step into the diner, you and Jungkook instinctively drift towards your usual table by the window, the one that's practically become yours over time and Jaehyun trails behind, his eyes briefly scanning the place before settling on the two of you.

"You guys get comfortable—I'll go place the order." you chime, your voice light with excitement as Jungkook nods, taking a seat. "Me and Kook are getting our usual burgers... what about you, Jaehyun?" you ask, your smile bright.

Jaehyun shifts in his seat, lowering himself across from Jungkook. "Oh... yeah, I guess I'll have the burger too." he replies, attempting casualness. "Perfect!" you beam, giving a little thumbs-up before turning on your heel and heading towards the counter.

Jungkook and Jaehyun sit face to face, the absence of your warmth leaving a tangible void between them, like the air itself cools the second you step away.

Jungkook has never been good at eye contact; it's always made him feel exposed, like someone could see right through him. But this time, he forces himself to hold Jaehyun's gaze. It's not confidence, it's defiance.

A quiet, stubborn refusal to let Jaehyun think he holds any power here. That his presence, his smirks, his calculated little victories, could ever rattle him.

Jaehyun leans back slightly, arms crossing over his chest, eyes narrowing just the faintest bit. He lets out a breathy scoff and neither of them say a word, but the tension hums louder than any conversation could.

Their eyes lock like two opposing forces testing the limits of the space they share. It's almost childish, this silent standoff, but they're both not willing to be the first to look away. It's as though they're shooting invisible lasers through their pupils, measuring each other in the quietest, most passive-aggressive battle known to man.

"Here we go..." you sing-song, balancing a tray with three burgers and a generous side of fries as you make your way back to the table. You're blissfully unaware of the silent warzone you're about to walk into.

Both Jungkook and Jaehyun immediately snap out of their intense, wordless staring contest, their gazes shifting to you with something alarmingly close to desperation. The air between them, once brimming with unspoken rivalry, pauses, suspended by a single, all-important question.

Where are you going to sit?

There's an empty spot beside each of them, and for a brief second, they're both holding their breaths, like their entire evening depends on this one moment. It's ridiculous, really, two grown men waiting like nervous schoolboys to see which side you'll choose, as though your choice is about to crown the evening's winner.

You place the tray on the table, eyes flitting between the two empty seats as if you're carefully weighing your options.

Truthfully, you're not.

Your phone’s battery is barely hanging on, and the seat beside Jaehyun just so happens to be the closest to the charging socket—that’s all there is to it.

 You need your phone to keep up with your little ritual of posting an Instagram story of your meal, something you’ve done every time you visit this diner. And since you forgot to bring your power bank, the charging socket is your only saving grace.

So when you step towards the chair next to Jaehyun, he shifts slightly, trying to mask his triumph under the guise of casual nonchalance.

He raises a hand to his mouth, rubbing at his jaw and the subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who, watches the scene unfold from across the table, already mentally preparing himself for an evening of internal suffering.

But when you pull out the chair—you pause.

Your nose scrunches, eyes narrowing as you spot a faint, dried-up glob of what looks suspiciously like mayo crusted onto the edge of the seat. It's small, barely noticeable, but enough to make you grimace.

"Hey, Jae... would you mind shifting there?" you question, pointing to the seat next to Jungkook.

Both men freeze.

Jaehyun's smirk drops so fast it's almost audible, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief while Jungkook's brows flick upwards in surprise, mouth parting slightly before he schools his face back into something neutral, though the barely-there twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him.

This... this was not the outcome either of them had prepared for, but it's safe to say Jungkook's partly satisfied.

Jaehyun however, hesitates, like he's considering protesting, but you quickly flash him that sheepish, apologetic grin, the one that makes it impossible to say no to you. "I'm so sorry... This seat's a little dirty plus I really need to charge my phone, and the socket's right here." you explain, pointing to the outlet on the wall.

Jaehyun forces out a tight smile. "Yeah, of course... No problem." he says, standing up to move to the other seat, landing next to Jungkook with the enthusiasm of someone being sentenced to life in prison.

You flash him a sweet, oblivious smile before finally settling into the seat and plugging in your charger with a small, satisfied hum.

Soon enough, the meal is underway. Conversation flows easily—well, mostly between you and Jaehyun. The two of you chat about random classes and how brutal last week's quiz was, nothing too deep, but enough to make Jungkook feel like a third wheel at a study date he never agreed to.

He picks at his fries, half-listening, half-zoning out, until suddenly, you burst into laughter—loud and unfiltered, the kind that makes your eyes squeeze shut and your hand fly up to cover your mouth and it jolts Jungkook back into the present. 

His gaze flicks to you instantly because when you laugh like that, everything else just fades. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes crinkled at the corners, that light, breathless giggle spilling out like music.

And dammit, Jaehyun, out of all people, is the one who made you laugh and somehow, that realization makes Jungkook bites into his burger a little too aggressive, like it personally offended him.

"No, but seriously..." Jaehyun continues, fighting back his own laughter. "First week of college, right? I'm at this super boring seminar. Room's packed. Everyone's dead silent and the professor's giving this whole speech about the meaning of existence or whatever—like, proper 'stare into the void' kinda stuff."

Jungkook has no idea where this is going, and even though he doesn't particularly want to care, he still listens. Because, seriously, what could possibly be so funny?

"But I was bored out of my mind, right? So, I sneak out my phone—'cause obviously, I'd rather watch something on my phone than spiral into an existential crisis." Jaehyun says and you giggle, nodding along, fully invested.

"But guess what? My phone's on full volume. And out of nowhere—like, cutting through all this profound silence, it goes: 'HURRICANE KATRINA? MORE LIKE HURRICANE TORTILLA!'"

(vine reference link)

You absolutely lose it, slapping the table as laughter erupts from you. "STOP—NOT HURRICANE TORTILLA—" you wheeze, clutching your stomach.

Jungkook pauses mid-chew, eyes narrowing slightly as he wonders what the hell is a... hurricane tortilla? He glances between you two, trying to decode what exactly has you guys dying.

Jaehyun keeps going. "The professor stops talking and the whole room just goes... dead silent and everyone's looking at me like I just committed a crime while I'm just sitting there like—'welp, guess I'll drop out.'"

"I—oh my god—I can't—'hurricane tortilla'—I'm actually cryinggg." you gasp between fits of laughter, wiping at the tears gathering in your eyes. Jungkook just blinks, utterly lost. He leans in slightly, brows furrowed. "...What's a hurricane tortilla?"

Jaehyun's head snaps towards him, eyes widening with exaggerated disbelief. "No way. You're joking, right?" He lets out a sharp laugh, dripping with condescension. "Y/n, you're telling me you live with this uncultured man who doesn't know what a hurricane tortilla is?"

You don't dignify Jaehyun's snide remark with a response. Instead, you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile, the kind that instantly disarms him. Your eyes hold nothing but warmth, no trace of ridicule.

You know he doesn't keep up with this kind of stuff, and that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

"Oh, Kook." you murmur. "It's just a vine. Remember? Those short, funny videos I showed you? Like six seconds long?"

Jungkook's expression softens as the memory washes over him. Of course, he remembers.

That afternoon on the couch, when you had excitedly told him you wanted to show him some "vines". Truthfully, he hadn't really gotten most of them. Some flew right over his head, and he barely found them funny. But he'd never admit it aloud because, honestly, it was never about the vines.

It was about you. The way you had curled up beside him, so close that your shoulder pressed into his while your bright laughter spilled freely, like music that played just for him. The way you'd nudge him with your elbow whenever you found something extremely funny, your pretty eyes crinkling with joy as if inviting him to share in that happiness.

He remembers how his heart raced more from the warmth of your thigh brushing against his than from anything on the screen. How every time you leaned in, laughing so hard you could barely breathe, felt like he could drown completely in the sound of it and never come up for air.

And most of all, he remembers how he didn't want it to end. 

How he could've stayed there, just like that, for hours—watching videos that barely made any sense to him, but that's okay, because getting to hear you laugh like that was all that truly mattered. 

"Yeah... I remember." he says after a beat, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah so, the hurricane tortilla thing? It's just from one of those." you explain, still sweet, still patient, like you're always willing to meet him where he's at.

Eventually, you all wrap up at the diner and step out. The tension between Jungkook and Jaehyun still remains unnoticed by you while they exchange subtle glares, every few minutes, each one laced with unspoken rivalry.

"So, I guess we'll head back now." you say, standing on the pavement with your hands inside your pockets, protecting yourself from the night breeze. Jaehyun gives Jungkook one last look, a brief, pointed glance that's more challenge than farewell, before turning to you with a smile.

And then, without warning, he steps forward, arms looping around you in an embrace. It catches you off guard, but you don't hesitate to return the hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders with ease, though there's a flicker of surprise in your eyes.

Jungkook, on the other hand, stiffens. His jaw tightens, fists curling at his sides as he watches Jaehyun's arms settle a little too comfortably around your waist. It's not just the hug that gets to him—it's the way Jaehyun looks at him over your shoulder, a smug, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Like he's winning.

And maybe he is. At least, that's what it feels like to Jungkook in that moment.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow." Jaehyun breathes out as he pulls away, his hand lingering a second too long on your waist. You nod, smiling, completely unaware of the silent battle that's just taken place right behind your back.

"See you around, dude." Jaehyun adds, tossing Jungkook a dismissive nod before turning on his heel and strolling away with all the confidence of someone who thinks he's just claimed victory.

Jungkook exhales slowly, forcing his fists to uncurl at his sides, trying to tame the little green goblin of jealousy that a single hug has so effortlessly stirred to life.

"Let's go, Kook?" Your gentle voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He blinks, looking at you, your eyes bright under the streetlights and his silly little heart stumbles over itself as usual. "I—uhh... yeah. Of course." he stammers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The night air is cool, wrapping around you in a gentle breeze as the streets hum with distant traffic. Neon shop signs flicker, casting fleeting shades of color onto the pavement as you and Jungkook walk side by side.

You let out a satisfied hum, rubbing a hand over your stomach. "I swear, I'm never getting tired of that diner." you giggle, and Jungkook glances at you, the corners of his lips curling up. "I think at this point, they should just name a booth after you." he teases.

You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "That would be the dream, honestly. But it's not just me, you know? You've been there as much as I have. So I guess we both deserve a picture on the wall that says Most Loyal Customers of the Decade."

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head. "That would be nice, I guess." he says sheepishly.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment before you stretch your arms over your head. "Honestly, I'm glad I was able to make Jae try it out." you add casually, glancing at Jungkook and he nods, but his smile dims just slightly.

Maybe it's the way Jaehyun has so easily made his way into this conversation, or maybe it's the casual way you use his nickname... whatever it is, it makes Jungkook's stomach churn in a way he doesn't particularly like.

Plus, the uneasy thoughts have been there for a while, lurking in the back of his mind, but he's always pushed it away. Tonight, though, it feels impossible to ignore. He suddenly wants to know what you really think about Jaehyun—wants to know if you see what he sees or if you're just oblivious to the way Jaehyun acts around you or the way he acts around Jungkook.

Jungkook exhales quietly, debating whether he should even say anything. But before he can stop himself, the words slip out. "So this... Jaehyun guy..." he starts, voice careful, like he's weighing each word before releasing it. You glance at him, curious. "Yeah?"

Jungkook hesitates for a second too long, his gaze fixed ahead as if avoiding your eyes will make this easier. "You guys have gotten pretty close lately." he says, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Oh, yeah..." You nod, swaying slightly as you walk. "Ever since we became partners for that assignment, we've been hanging out a lot. I mean, it's not anything too deep. It's just... our vibes match, you know?"

Vibes match.

Jungkook draws in a long inhale, his fists tightening inside his pockets. He wonders if his vibe has ever matched yours. You've lived together for so long... have spent late nights talking on the couch, have shared countless meals, have fallen into a rhythm so natural it almost feels like breathing.

But have you ever thought about it like that? Have you ever thought your vibes batch? Yours and His?

You're everything he's not and if Jaehyun's vibe matches yours, then where exactly does that leave Jungkook?

"He's funny." you continue, lips curving into a small smile. "And he gets my humor."

Jungkook hums at that, but the sound comes out a little sharper than he intended. He knows Jaehyun makes you laugh, he's seen it firsthand. Loud, breathless laughter that makes your eyes crinkle, the kind that shakes your whole body.

"But..." Jungkook exhales slowly, trying to sound casual even though the words feel like they're getting stuck on the way out. "I mean... I've noticed he's gotten really... comfortable around you."

He doesn't even know where he's going with this. He just knows it's been bothering him, gnawing at him like an itch he can't scratch. You blink, tilting your head. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, feeling utterly, painfully awkward. He wants to drop it, but at the same time, he doesn't.

"Like... like how he is at the apartment." he says, forcing the words out. "He just... makes himself at home. Like, he sits on the couch like it's his. He raids the fridge. He—" Jungkook stops himself, brows furrowing. "He acts like he lives there."

You let out a soft laugh, but not in a way that makes him feel dismissed. "Ah, yeah, that's just how he is." you say with a small shrug. Jungkook presses his lips together, the unease still sitting heavy in his chest.

"But what's wrong?" you ask, your voice gentler now, sensing there's more to this than what he's saying. "Does he make you uncomfortable?" You tilt your head, genuine concern etched in your features.

"No... um, no, nothing like that." he denies way too quickly. "I was just wondering if you're comfortable with how he is." He turns it back on you. You smile at that. "Oh, Kook, were you worried about me?" you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Yeah... you... you could say that." His ears burn, and he wishes his mouth would just shut up. "I was just wondering about your dynamic, that's all." he adds, trying to sound nonchalant and you blink at him, amused. 

"Our dynamic?"

Jungkook nods stiffly.

"Like I said, our vibes match." you repeat. "But again, he's just my assignment partner, you know? He's nice to work with and joke around with."

Jungkook nods along, forcing himself to absorb your words, to let them settle the gnawing feeling inside him.

"But if he makes you uncomfortable at the apartment, then I can just go to his place for the assignment, you know? He did ask me to—"

"No !!" Jungkook blurts, way too fast, way too loud and your eyes widen for a brief second.

God, that would be worse. Having you go to Jaehyun's place, where Jungkook wouldn't be around, where he wouldn't know what was happening—where Jaehyun would have the liberty to do anything. That's not even the last thing Jungkook wants.

"No... I meant, he doesn't make me uncomfortable. So please..." He exhales shakily. "Please continue working at our apartment." He doesn't even try to hide the urgency in his voice making you laugh. "Okay, okay." you say, nodding your head. "But do tell me if you're uncomfortable, alright?"

Jungkook nods, lips pressing into a thin line as he watches you. 

You don't see it, don't see the way Jaehyun looks at you, don't see the way he treats Jungkook like an afterthought.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he's just overthinking. Maybe he's just being paranoid, reading too much into things that don't mean anything. Maybe it's all in his head. But the irritating, tormenting feeling remains like a dull, nagging weight in his chest that refuses to settle

It feels like something is lodged between his ribs, pressing against his lungs, making every breath feel just a little too tight.

Yet, he exhales slowly, shuts his eyes, and tells himself to let it go, to swallow all the weird thoughts and bury them somewhere they can’t reach him.

Jaehyun's just an assignment partner. 

Nothing more. Nothing deep.

part 2 -> (coming soon)

series masterlist

my masterlist <3

TAGLISTS CLOSED <333

series taglist: @jeontids @satisfied18 @ppeachyttae @star-candyian @jjkluver7 @lovingkoalaface @somisarchive @petalsofink @shellyyy177 @mirinaeii @iamstilljk @ahgasegotarmy116 @jungkooksmytype @luvvminwon @parkinglot-nights @isjwshaidsk @neurospicynugget @vicki1031 @imcamboaf @tatzzz-25 @fsdcande @loverletterfromme2u @wintaemoonjen @heyjiminnie @nbjch05 @primadonnasdream @toosweetforyall @smoljjks @jksusawife @whoa-jo @hyeinwluv85s @diptylkrtk @134340-kr @abbie1847 @sftlrmin @honeeybunneey @xx-untitled @kissyfacekoo @sky-23s-world @meigalaxy @xtrataerrestrial @jenniebyrubies @jaytheatiny @jkxlvrr (if you're not tagged, pls check ur settings)

permanent taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @kimyishin @somehowukook @allie-in-the-moon @nightappple @jksoftii @mimi1097 @yooforeaa @jkaxl @jinglthembalslikethat @puppybunnyjkay @jiijeon97 @ninisica @rerefundslocals @kgamboa11 @lizzikoo @madussthoughts @kelsyx33 @mafersame @yoonstaar @autumnbear @yuniesluv @kookxin @priyanshe @turn02 @kgamboa11 @minniejim @yamerulzky @winterarchives @goldenjeonkoo

[iamgonnagetyouback-recs]

SIRIUS BLACK.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

date by @sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ sirius for some reason thinks you have a crush on regulus

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god the tension in this had me actually holding my breath, san. sirius being all dramatic and broody while reader is just exhausted with potions?? perfect. but then the confrontation?? my heart hurt for both of them. sirius being jealous and insecure and reader being so confused but so soft when she realizes what's happening. and the james/regulus mention?? peak comedy. the ending was so sweet, i'm actually kicking my feet

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

forever by @/sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ you're cold, and you're in love with sirius

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely gorgeous. the tenderness, the pining, the way every little movement is soaked in love—it’s stunning. you have such a delicate way of writing sirius, san, i love it! the smoking detail was such a perfect addition—how he doesn’t put it out but still adjusts for you, how you bought an ashtray just for him. it’s intimate in the way that truly knowing someone is intimate. and that cuddle request??? i nearly stopped breathing. the way reader braces for rejection only to be met with sirius’ sure, get over here, babe—it wrecked me. and then the way he pulls her closer, holds her like it’s second nature? absolutely everything. “my arms have no curfew, sweetheart. they’re content to hold you as long as you please.” —i’m going to be thinking about that line for days. i’m in awe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

right where i want to be by @appocalipse

⁀➴༯ it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this hurts in the best way. the slow, creeping realization, the way sirius just knows and won’t let her run from it, the tension??? i’m actually losing my mind. the teasing, the softness, the way he says i want you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world??? i need to lie down. no one disturb me, except maybe you amy cause well you wrote this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

shy!reader by @moonstruckme

⁀➴༯ bf!sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's really insecure about

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so soft i could cry. sirius just knows her, and even when he messes up, he listens, he cares. the way he apologizes??? instantly, genuinely, with no ego—i’m in love. and the way he tucks her into his space so easily, so naturally, like she belongs there??? i’m melting. i now identify as a puddle of tears from all this fluffiness

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

clingy!sirius by @inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ sirius being clingy and your friends teasing you guys

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is the most disgustingly adorable thing i’ve ever read. sirius is just so in love and unashamed about it, and everyone else is exasperated but also just accepting of his dramatics. like yeah, of course he buries himself under her shirt like a needy puppy, what else is new?? i am weak

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

kids by @/inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ you are unsure about having kids

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this is so soft i actually can’t breathe. the way they’re so open with each other and sirius just listens???? no judgment, just love???? and the way he reassures her without trying to change her mind??? “we can keep our family just like this” i’m actually going to cry. and then the stupid little “and a cat” moment like please. and him being like “i don’t think i could put someone over you” like sir. that is the most sirius black thing i’ve ever heard. i love them so much this fic is everything

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

i got you first by @thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ "if i scare you tonight, you'll owe me a kiss." with sirius black but in the end he ends up getting scared

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh, this is delicious. sirius trying so hard to get a reaction out of her, only for her to completely turn the tables on him?? absolutely love. and that moment in the maze? when she flips the game on him, and he just folds under her touch?? yeah. that man is gone. completely and utterly wrecked by her. the way he just stares and then that lazy grin—i swear, i felt that in my soul. also, the fact that their first kiss isn't rushed or desperate, but soft and slow? sirius black, you are in love. and so am i with this fic

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

sober feelings by @lovemenotts

⁀➴༯ bsf!reader with him out of the blue suggesting 'what if we kiss but not in a dating way?'

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god. oh my god. this was everything. the casual suggestion like it’s nothing while my heart is combusting?? sirius being all cocky but then immediately spiraling after??? the way he was so worried the next day i'm gonna cry. and then the confession??? i am on the floor. “we should’ve kissed as friends a long time ago” sirius please be serious about me next

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

yellow hearts by @nottswitch

⁀➴༯ the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was so soft i’m actually going to cry. the progression from absolute mortification to comfort and love??? sirius teasing but also so gentle???? the yellow hearts showing up again and again??? and the honeymoon bit oh my god. their bickering is so stupid and adorable and so them. the fact that they get their little happy ending and it’s literally framed in yellow hearts. i’m unwell

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

bad dog by @lupinsversion

⁀➴༯ sirius has a bad habit of flirting with others, especially in front of his girlfriend. has she finally had enough?

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh he DESERVED that bonk on the head. “bad dog” is actually the funniest and most fitting reaction ever. like yes, he’s sirius black, of course he’s going to be a little shit about flirting, but also? he needs to learn. and i love that james and remus are calling him out too because yeah, it’s “harmless” but it’s also not harmless when it clearly hurts his girlfriend. sirius sulking about it and realizing he actually feels bad?? good. let him sit in his wrongness and learn from it. this was so well done, i loved it but ahem mak i think i speak for all when i say part is needed

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

a marauders guide to siblings by @ellecdc

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely delightful. james potter and his love for love, his pure dedication to making this triple date happen—it’s so him. the way he just won’t take no for an answer, and how everyone else is reluctantly dragged into his chaos, is peak marauders energy. and the dialogue? oh mama. i love how everyone interacts here, from sirius being completely against it because of the “googly eyes” problem, to remus and regulus just being exasperated with the entire situation. and the moment james finally gets what he wants, only to immediately start overthinking it and worrying about the sibling connections?? absolutely hilarious. and sirius being all soft for reader, saying she was worth the nonsense? perfect. this was so fun to read, i adored every second of it!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmain blog ￫ @iamgonnagetyouback

[iichfilwypj]

── percy jackson x fem!reader

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

Percy sighed once again, sitting up on the bed and pushing the blue blanket that had been covering them both to the floor the second his girlfriend rejected his embrace. Once. Again.

“Okay, enough,” he said, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows. “I want to cuddle!”

The confused girl sat up, mumbling something under her breath about being asleep and rolling onto her side. But before she could, Percy’s hands grasped her shoulder and guided her back onto her back, keeping his hold tight to prevent her from moving away.

“No, you’re going to let me hold you, and we’re going to sleep cuddled up like every other couple does when it’s cold,” he declared, reaching for the blanket and pulling it over them again.

“Percy,” she said, her voice thick with sleep, “you already turned on the heater—the temperature is nearing boiling! I can't believe that any part of your allegedly smart brain thinks it’s a good idea to cuddle—”

Percy gasped, pressing a hand to his chest as if she had mortally wounded him. “You know the cold affects me differently. I’m a summer person!”

“Percy, I love you, but no one’s ever died from not cuddling one night. Trust me, you’ll survive.”

“Of course this weather doesn’t bother you—with your frozen, cold heart,” he grumbled.

She snorted, clearly amused by the words. Then Percy huffed dramatically and turned his back to her, cocooning himself in the entire blanket and curling up. 

She watched his back for a moment, rolling her eyes at the exaggerated sulking. She stretched over him, not missing the way he pulled his shoulder away and pretended to pout. “Percy.” she murmured, poking his cheek.

He made a noise muffled against the blanket, something between a grunt and an indignant scoff. She exhaled through her nose, suppressing a smile, and finally gave in, slipping under the edge of the blanket and pressing herself lightly against his back, ignoring the sudden heat against her body.

It was like magic; immediately, Percy murmured a 'yes' and shifted with a huge smile, his arms instinctively wrapping around her. His eyes closed when he felt the warm skin of his girlfriend's neck under his cheek, taking a deep breath.

He pulled away slightly, looking up, waiting for the girl to open her eyes again and smile at him. “Hi, pretty.”

“Hi.”

“You know, you don’t have to play hard to get with me. Like, I get it—I’m the best cuddler in the world and—”

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, already regretting her decision. But she couldn’t hide her smile when he pressed a quick, lazy kiss to her chin.

“You love me,” he said, resting his head on her chest. Then, he added, “You don’t have a cold heart, by the way. You have a very warm one, actually. And hot, for sure.”

She laughed, slapping his back. “Go to sleep, Jackson.”

His hold on her tightened slightly, warm and steady, and he left a soft kiss on her clavicle. “Yes, dear.”

sucks but at least we have something! yk, we have to sart somewhere! also i like the cherries no?

[enigmaris]

Lois writes the article. The Justice League freaks out. Investigations are done, meetings are held. In the mean time, a suspected connection between ghosts and the lazurus pits means that there is a very specific person who wants a one on one with Phantom even though all of the heroes agreed to not approach phantom until the anti ecto acts are gone. Jason never follows the rules anyway:

“Daniel Phantom, do not even think about it.”

Her tone of voice made every bone in his body yearn to turn invisible immediately, Lois jumped up trying to catch him. Danny grinned and got ready to fly away, a game of tag would keep Lois from questioning him! Right before Danny’s plan could commence, the sound of Lois's phone ringing cut it off. Danny froze as Lois pulled out her phone and looked at the screen.

“It’s Batman. Wonder what he could possibly need.”

Danny let himself fly all the way to the ceiling, until his back was pushed up against it. He looked down as Lois answered her phone, helpfully putting it on speaker.

“You’re on speaker Bats, what can Lois Lane and her plucky new intern do for you?”

“Intern?” A voice Danny didn’t know answered back. “I thought Superman was the only one for you. I guess you move fast, Lois.”

“Nightwing.” Lois said. “What are you doing calling from Batman’s phone?”

“If B didn’t want me to use his phone, he should have called you himself. You know how he is, Lois. Won’t ever ask for help unless he’s about to die and not even then.” Nightwing snarked back. “Gotham’s got a bit of a supernatural concern that I think I need a consult from your intern for.”

Danny tilted his head, not moving closer to Lois when she looked up at him.

“What sort of concern? I’ll pass along your message if it's interesting enough. My intern’s got enough on his plate getting me coffee to watch after you birds.”

“Fair enough.” Nightwing allowed. “We think one of our own is ecto-contaminated. To be entirely fair we all might be a bit, not that we’ve gotten our hands on a GIW scanner. The real concern is with Red Hood though. I know your report said that ecto-contamination is harmless but Red Hood has had some interesting side effects since he took a bath in some glowing green goop.”

“A bath?” Danny asked, his voice echoing out from the ceiling.

There was a pause on the other end of the call before Nightwing spoke again.

“Yes. A bath. Do the words Lazurus Pit mean anything to you, Miss Lane’s Intern?”

“Never heard of it.” Danny said, trying not to let himself sound ashamed by it. “But I don’t like the name. Sounds spooky.”

“Aren’t you a spook?”

“Different kind of spook.” Danny defended.

“Well. We think it might actually be the same sort of spook actually. The Lazurus Pits are pools of glowing green liquid, no one knows where they came from. There are a dozen or so dotted around the planet. If a sick or dying person goes into it, they are healed sometimes with side effects. If a healthy person goes in, they die.” Nightwing said. “Sometimes if people go into, they don’t come out again.”

Danny... might actually know what those are. Huh.

“What kind of side effects?”

"Homicidal rage. Memory loss. Temporary increased strength. Glowing eyes.”

“Okay. And how long has Red Hood being dealing with this?”

“On and off for about five years.” Nightwing answered.

“I might actually know what’s going on.” Danny said. “But I’d have to see him. I’m not like a ghost doctor or anything, but if it's what I think it is, then I can fix it for sure.”

“Fix it?” Another voice from the phone asked.

Danny could hear a scuffle over the phone as two people wrestled for it. He exchanged looks with Lois until the second voice seemed to get the phone under his control completely.

“What do you mean by fix it?” the second voice demanded.

“Erm. Who is this?”

“Red Hood. Who the fuck else?”

“I don’t know who has access to Batman’s phone dude, chill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill. Tell me what you mean by fix it.”

"Dude. I have ice powers I absolutely can tell you to chill.” Danny shot back making Lois snort.

"Start. Talking.”

“He wasn’t kidding about the anger issues huh?” Danny asked Lois instead of answering. Danny grinned when he heard a growl over the phone. “Look. Red Hood. I don’t know if it is what I think it is. I need to see you in person before I can tell you anymore. Do you know how many glowing green goops there are in the universe?”

“Do you?” Nightwing asked, voice muffled as he was further from the phone. Danny listened as Red Hood told Nightwing to ‘shut the fuck up’ with a hiss.

"I’ll send Lane an address in Gotham. Meet me there in an hour.” Red Hood instructed.

“How do you know I’m free in an hour? I’m a busy intern you know. You’re not being very polite.”

Danny could hear the teeth grinding on the other end. He grinned as Red Hood took in a deep breath through his nose.

“Can we please meet in an hour?” Red Hood asked.

“Yeah sure. I’ll fly by.”

“Now what do we say to people who do nice things for us?” Lois asked. “Especially poor lowly interns who have an entire branch of the government hunting them?”

“Would you like me to blow up a GIW base for you?” Red Hood asked.

"Hood no!” Nightwing shouted.

“Hood yes.” Hood said.

The two vigilantes started arguing with each other, so Lois just rolled her eyes and ended the call.

If Lois Lane had a nickle for every time she had to help an overpowered boy from the midwest with the power of journalism, she'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird that its happened twice.

Danny watched as Lois pulled out her phone and pulled up a recording app.

“What are you doing?”

“You came to a journalist and are surprised to get an interview?” She asked him, her tone clearly joking. “What you’ve given me here is great kid, but newspaper clippings and copies of federal laws don’t get the public’s attention. I need a story, Phantom’s the story.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

Lois looked at him, less than impressed. Slowly, she turned the screen of her computer until it was visible to both of them. There, in full clarity, was a front-page story from his hometown newspaper. ‘Danny Phantom saves Bus Full of Children!’ and there was a picture of him in his ghost form, his face crystal clear on her screen.

"Phantom’s a ghost. I’m just a dumb kid.” Danny tried again.

Lois pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and muttered to herself.

“Why do all you midwestern boys have the same schtick?”

“I’m sorry?” Danny said, unsure if he should be apologizing or not.

“Changing your last name from Fenton to Phantom does not a secret identity make kid. It might work for most civilians, but anyone familiar with the hero game will clock you from a mile away.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

“Sure, kid. But I’m sure you have a way for me to interview him, right? Because I want to talk to him before I do anything else about your town.”

Danny hugged himself and looked down at his knees.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Not the worst I’ve seen. Wonder Woman’s is paper thin. I'm pretty sure most people in DC know who she is outside of the cape and just don’t say anything because she scares them.”

Danny snorted involuntarily at that, looking back up at the woman.

“What’s going on in your town, Phantom? Why come to a journalist and not the Justice League?”

“The Anti-Ecto Acts got passed like a year ago. They state that only being that produces or contains ectoplasm above a certain amount is considered non-sapient and is to be turned over to the government for disposal.” Danny said. “I put the whole thing in there for you to read, but it's long. Amity Park has a lot of ectoplasm in it. It's seeped into the air and water. Normal human people have it in them now. At first, those agents were just firing at me whenever I finished a ghost fight. I could deal with that. Their aim is terrible anyway. But then they figured out that humans can become contaminated with ectoplasm. They decided that meant the entire town was under their jurisdiction. They've decided that means that no one in town counts as human anymore, that we don’t have rights, that they’re doing us a favor by not just exterminating the entire town like the law says.”

Danny leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk in front of Lois Lane. He looked right into her bright eyes and spoke seriously.

“When it was just ghosts under attack, I didn’t think anyone would care. I’ve tried calling the Justice League for help, but they’ve brushed me off. People need to know what’s happening. Anyone can become ecto-contaminated. You just have to be in the right place at the wrong time. It’s not right what’s happening to Amity, Miss Lane. I came to you because if anyone could get the world to listen, to believe, then it's got to be you.”

And Lois Lane smiled. It was a proud, eager smile. The kind of smile Danny had seen on Sam right after she convinced the school to serve a vegan lunch. He barely held back from shivering.

“Well then, Mr. Phantom.” Lois said, before tapping onto the recording app on her phone and starting a recording. “Let’s begin.”

[hockeyluvrr]

CONGRATS ON 100!!! TO MANY MANY MORE <33

I rolled a 4 with Luke Hughes and won prompt 13 !!

MASTERLIST

thank you meg!! thank you so much for requesting, hope you like it!!!

word count: 1,083

comfort prompt #13: "You've always been there for me, so please, let me be there for you now."

The silence in your room was deafening, your thoughts running wild in a way that made it almost impossible to focus. You could feel the weight of the day pressing on your chest, the things you hadn’t said, the worries you hadn’t shared—everything you’d kept bottled up for too long. It was overwhelming, suffocating. The tears that had come earlier were spent, but the heaviness remained, an invisible burden you didn’t know how to put down.

You weren’t the type to let people in easily. Vulnerability had always been a hard thing for you, especially with someone you cared about. But there was one person, one person who’d always seemed to know how to make everything feel just a little bit lighter—Luke Hughes.

You had been there for him through the highs and lows, offering support, comfort, and a safe space when the world felt too much. And now, as you sat alone in your room, you realised that maybe it was time to stop pretending like you had everything under control.

You needed someone. You needed him.

You grabbed your phone with shaky hands and hesitated for a moment before typing out a quick message:

“Hey, do you mind coming over? I could really use some company.”

Before you even had time to second-guess your decision, the reply came.

“On my way.”

The relief that washed over you was instant. Luke had always been your go-to person, your constant. It felt good to know he was going to be there, even if you couldn’t explain exactly what was going on.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at your door, and you quickly rose to answer it. When you opened the door, Luke was standing there, dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, a concerned look on his face. Without saying a word, he stepped inside, immediately pulling you into a hug.

You didn’t realise how much you needed the comfort of his embrace until you felt it. His warmth surrounded you, and for a moment, you let yourself melt into him, your head resting against his chest.

“I’m here,” he murmured softly, his voice calm and steady. "I know you didn’t want to bother me, but you could never be a bother. You know that, right?"

You nodded against him, fighting the lump in your throat. But the words wouldn’t come. How could you explain everything you were feeling? How could you put into words the weight you had been carrying, the fears that had been building up for weeks?

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately,” he continued, pulling back slightly to look at you, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. “But you’ve always been there for me. Always. So please… let me be there for you now.”

His eyes held nothing but sincerity, the soft, caring look you knew so well. It was like he could see right through the walls you’d built up, and the thought of letting him in made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, and instead, tears filled your eyes again. Luke’s expression softened, and before you could apologise, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you tighter this time.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly. “You don’t have to explain anything right now. I’m not going anywhere. We can take it slow, alright?”

You clung to him, your hands fisting the fabric of his hoodie as you let yourself feel everything you’d been hiding for far too long. The tears came again, but this time, they felt different. There was a sense of relief in them, like you were finally allowing yourself to release everything that had been weighing on your heart.

“I’m so tired, Luke,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “Tired of pretending like I’m okay when I’m not.”

Luke’s hand gently stroked your hair, the simple gesture more comforting than you ever expected. “You don’t have to pretend for me. Not ever. It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to not have all the answers. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face still wet with tears but grateful for his unwavering presence. “I just feel like I’m drowning, you know? Like I’m letting everyone down, like I’m not good enough.”

“Hey.” Luke gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears. His voice was firm yet kind, filled with an intensity that made you feel safe. “You’ve never let anyone down. You’ve always been there for me, for everyone. You’re one of the strongest people I know. But it’s okay to need help, too. You don’t have to do it alone.”

His words settled deep within you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe them. You weren’t alone. Not anymore. And you didn’t have to be strong all the time. It was okay to lean on someone else for once.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quieter now, filled with a sense of vulnerability you hadn’t shown him before. “I should’ve let you in sooner.”

Luke shook his head, his gaze soft. “You don’t have to apologise. We all have our moments. I’m just glad you reached out.”

He moved to sit down on the couch, pulling you gently with him. You curled up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you. His warmth was comforting, and his steady presence grounded you. You could feel the tension slowly melting away as you let yourself relax for the first time in a long while.

“You’ve got me,” Luke whispered into the silence, his voice a soft promise. “Always.”

You closed your eyes, the soothing sound of his heartbeat in your ear calming your nerves. “Thank you, Luke,” you whispered back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he replied, his voice full of quiet conviction. “I’m not going anywhere. And whenever you need me, I’ll be right here.”

You let out a shaky breath, finally allowing yourself to fall into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in the safety of his arms. In that moment, you knew everything would be okay. You weren’t alone, and for once, you didn’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.

Because Luke was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[elikajinnie]

P: Gryffindor!Gunwook X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Bonding, Cute Ending, Maki Cameo, Teasing, Minor Jealousy, Suggestive Content, i know for sure hes a good kisser..

Synopsis: Working at a cozy little tea shop in Hogsmeade after classes has always been your quiet escape. You spend your evenings serving customers, sorting tea leaves, and enjoying the atmosphere—until one particularly reckless Gryffindor comes crashing (literally) into your life while chasing a mischievous pixie—and after breaking a few cups along the way—he seems to have taken a sudden interest in you.

a/n: This started as a idea some friends were tossing around on disc… and since I’m such a generous person, I decided to bring it to life for them. This is just an experiment, but if it does well, maybe I’ll write more on ZB1. (Not proofread)

Hogsmeade was always a treat to visit—not just because of the shops but because it was a world of its own, separate from the familiar halls of Hogwarts. That was why you made it a point to visit whenever you could.

There was one shop in particular that always called to you, a small teashop tucked away in a quiet corner. The scent of peppermint and daisies greeted you before you even stepped inside, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It became a ritual—settling into your usual spot by the window, a steaming cup of tea in hand as you flipped through a book or caught up on studying.

Your visits became so frequent that one day, the owner made you an offer: if you ever had free time, you could help around the shop. The idea of spending even more time in the teashop was too tempting to resist. Of course, you accepted, and soon, you found joy in a place that now felt a little like home.

You didn’t think anything could disrupt the careful balance of your life.

You should’ve known better than to jinx it. Because it wasn’t just anything that shattered your routine—it was someone.

The evening had been calm, the shop now empty except for the lingering scent of steeped tea and sugar-dusted pastries. You had fallen into the familiar rhythm of closing duties, cradling a small stack of teacups in your hands as you moved toward the counter. The soft clink of porcelain against porcelain was soothing.

Then, the door swung open with such force that the tiny bell above it nearly rattled off its hinge. The sharp blast of cold night air rushed in, carrying a voice—loud and frantic.

Startled, you barely had time to turn your head before someone slammed into you. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, and for a split second, all you registered was warmth—strong arms wrapping around you in an attempt to steady you both. But gravity wasn’t on your side.

With a startled gasp, you tumbled forward. The world tilted, your vision a blur of motion, and the next thing you knew, you were on the floor—more specifically, on top of someone else. The delicate porcelain cups you’d been holding slipped from your grasp, shattering against the wooden floor in a cacophony of breaking ceramic. The scent of peppermint tea burst into the air, mixing with the sharp tang of ceramic dust.

Heart hammering, you took a second to catch your breath, trying to make sense of what just happened. Then, slowly, you glanced down at the unfortunate soul beneath you.

Broad shoulders, disheveled dark hair, a familiar red-and-gold tie loose around his neck. Sharp, wide eyes staring up at you in what looked like surprise and amusement.

Park Gunwook.

Popular Gryffindor, Quidditch player, and the last person you expected to be lying beneath you in the middle of a teashop disaster.

You blinked. He smirked.

“Well,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement. “Didn’t think I’d be falling for someone today.”

Your brain short-circuited for a second.

Gunwook’s smirk lingered as he lay beneath you, completely unfazed by the fact that he had just crashed into you. Meanwhile, you were still struggling to process what just happened, heat creeping up your neck as the weight of the situation—literally—settled in.

The broken teacups. The mess. The fact that you were still on top of him.

You scrambled to push yourself up, palms pressing against his chest as you tried to regain your balance. "I—what—why—" The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, your thoughts struggling to catch up with your mouth.

Gunwook let out a low chuckle. "You alright there?" His hands, which had instinctively caught you during the fall, lingered briefly on your waist before he let go, allowing you to awkwardly sit back.

You huffed, brushing stray strands of hair from your face before glaring at him. "You just—barged in here like a madman and tackled me!"

He grinned unapologetically. "Technically, you were in the way."

Your glare deepened, but before you could argue, a groan from the entrance made you both turn. A second-year Gryffindor stood frozen in the doorway, looking horrified. "Gunwook-hyung, I swear, I tried to stop it—"

A chorus of voices suddenly erupted from outside, and before you knew it, a small group of Gryffindors burst into the shop, all looking winded as if they had just sprinted across Hogsmeade.

"There he is!" One of them pointed at Gunwook, who was still lounging comfortably on the floor.

Before you could even begin to process the absolute mess unfolding in your peaceful little teashop, another one of the Gryffindors suddenly pointed upwards, their voice rising in alarm.

"Oi—there it is!"

Your gaze snapped up, along with everyone else's, and that was when you saw it.

A tiny, mischievous-looking pixie flitted through the air just below the ceiling, its translucent wings buzzing rapidly as it hovered above you. Its bright blue skin shimmered under the warm teashop lighting, and its sharp little eyes glinted with amusement. Most telling of all, however, was the high-pitched giggle that escaped its mouth, a sound so gleeful and impish that you knew, immediately, this thing was trouble.

For a moment, the entire shop fell into stunned silence.

Then, all hell broke loose.

"Catch it!" one of the Gryffindors shouted, already scrambling onto a chair in a desperate attempt to reach the creature.

"Don't let it escape!"

Gunwook groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "Oh, come on! I literally was just about to catch that thing!"

The pixie, unbothered by the chaos it had caused, let out another giggle before darting away just as one of the Gryffindors lunged for it. The poor student miscalculated entirely and ended up face-planting onto one of the tables, sending a teapot flying.

You barely managed to dodge as it clattered to the floor. "Can someone explain why there is a pixie loose in my shop?" you snapped, but your voice was drowned out by the sheer noise of the impromptu chase now taking place around you.

The pixie, clearly enjoying the game, zipped between shelves, knocked over a vase of fresh daisies, and even had the audacity to tug playfully at your hair as it flew past you.

"Seriously?!" You swatted at it, but it dodged easily, giggling all the while.

Gunwook finally pulled himself to his feet, his eyes locked onto the creature with the determination of someone who had made this their life's mission. "Alright, enough of this," he declared, rolling up his sleeves like he was about to duel the thing. "Get ready to grab it when it comes your way!"

"You act like it’ll just let itself be caught," you muttered, ducking as another Gryffindor leaped for the pixie and missed spectacularly.

Gunwook only grinned. "Oh, it will."

And with that, he launched himself at the pixie.

The next few minutes were an absolute disaster.

Gunwook and his friends made increasingly ridiculous attempts to corner the pixie—diving across tables, stacking chairs on top of one another, and even using a Gryffindor scarf as a makeshift net. The pixie, meanwhile, danced through the air with ease, taunting them at every turn.

At one point, Gunwook nearly had it—his fingers brushed against its tiny frame—but just as he closed his grip, the pixie yanked on his tie and yanked him down with it.

The two of them crashed onto the floor right in front of you. Gunwook groaned, sprawled out on his back, while the pixie perched triumphantly on his chest, grinning from ear to ear.

You stared. "That is the cockiest little creature I have ever seen."

Gunwook, still breathless, just reached out weakly and muttered, "Help."

For a moment, you could only stare at the absurdity in front of you—Park Gunwook, one of the most well-known Gryffindors in Hogwarts, utterly defeated, lying flat on his back while a smug little pixie perched victoriously on his chest like it had just won a duel.

The rest of the Gryffindors stood frozen around the shop, panting from their failed attempts to catch the creature.

The pixie wiggled its tiny fingers in a mocking little wave. "Hee-hee!" it giggled before darting up into the air again, leaving Gunwook groaning on the floor.

"Okay," he huffed, slowly sitting up, his tie still slightly askew from where the pixie had yanked on it. "That thing hates me."

One of his friends wheezed out a laugh. "No, I think it just knows you’re the easiest to mess with."

Gunwook shot them a glare but didn't deny it.

You, however, had reached your limit.

First, you’d been tackled to the floor. Then, your teacups had shattered. And now? Now, your cozy little teashop had turned into a battleground for a pixie chase.

Absolutely not.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled sharply before rolling up your sleeves. "Right. Enough of this. Move aside, amateurs."

The Gryffindors blinked at you in surprise as you strode forward.

Gunwook sat up straighter, brows raising. "Wait—you think you can catch it?"

You shot him a pointed look. "Unlike you, I don’t charge at things headfirst like a brainless troll."

A few of the Gryffindors snickered, and Gunwook gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "That was unnecessary."

Ignoring him, you turned your attention to the pixie, who was now perched on the teashop's chandelier, swinging its tiny legs back and forth as if enjoying the view.

You slowly reached into the pocket of your apron and pulled out a sugar cube.

The pixie’s giggling slowed as it noticed the treat. Its tiny eyes locked onto the cube with interest.

"That's right," you murmured, holding it up between your fingers. "You like sweets, don’t you?"

The pixie tilted its head, intrigued.

Gunwook, now watching with rapt attention, whispered, "Are you—are you bribing it?"

You shot him a quick glare. "Shut up."

Gunwook immediately mimed zipping his lips.

Carefully, you extended the sugar cube further, moving just slow enough to keep the pixie’s interest without startling it. "Come on," you coaxed, keeping your voice soft. "No more running around. Just take this, and we’ll call a truce."

The pixie hesitated for a moment. Then, slowly—very slowly—it began fluttering down from the chandelier, inching closer and closer to your outstretched hand.

Gunwook and the rest of the Gryffindors held their breath.

The pixie landed lightly on your fingers, sniffing at the sugar cube curiously.

Then—quick as lightning—you flipped your other hand over and cupped it around the creature, trapping it in your palms.

The Gryffindors exploded into cheers.

"NO WAY!"

"HOW DID YOU—"

"THAT WAS BRILLIANT!"

Gunwook gaped at you, utterly awed. "You actually caught it."

You gave him a pointed look. "Told you I was better at this than you."

Still holding the pixie carefully in your grasp, you turned to face the mess of your teashop. Broken teacups, overturned chairs, spilled sugar, and petals from the knocked-over vase littered the floor.

You sighed. "Now, before we celebrate—" Your gaze flickered back to the group of sheepish Gryffindors. "You’re all cleaning this up."

Gunwook groaned dramatically but got to his feet. "Fine. But only because you’re terrifying when you’re in charge."

"Idiot," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you walked toward the back room to secure the pixie.

Behind you, the Gryffindors scrambled to fix the disaster they had caused—while Gunwook, grinned as he whispered to his friends, "I think I just fell in love."

You could still hear the Gryffindors bickering as you stepped into the back room, carefully cradling the now very grumpy pixie in your hands. It wriggled and huffed, clearly displeased that its fun had been cut short.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," you muttered as you reached for an empty jar on one of the shelves. With practiced ease, you gently guided the pixie inside before sealing the lid with a flick of your wand. A few ventilation holes appeared at the top, ensuring the little menace could breathe—not that you cared much after all the chaos it had caused.

The pixie pouted at you, crossing its tiny arms as it flopped onto the bottom of the jar.

"Don't give me that look," you deadpanned. "You started this."

The pixie stuck out its tongue before turning away in protest.

You sighed and shook your head before heading back into the main shop.

To your surprise, the Gryffindors were actually cleaning up. Kind of.

Gunwook had dragged a broom across the floor—but in the most half-hearted, lazy way possible, barely moving the broken shards of teacups around. One of his friends was stacking chairs upright again, while another was using their wand to vanish the spilled sugar.

It was progress. Messy progress, but progress nonetheless.

Gunwook noticed you watching and straightened up, flashing you his usual carefree grin. "See? We got this under control."

You arched a brow, gaze flicking to the still-visible mess. "Really? Because it still looks like a disaster zone."

One of the Gryffindors groaned. "Give us a break, we’re trying!"

You exhaled, rubbing your temples before setting the pixie jar onto the counter. "Fine. Just... try to finish up before the owner gets back."

Gunwook perked up. "Wait, you’re not the owner?"

You shot him an unimpressed look. "Do I look old enough to own a business?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, maybe you’re just super mature."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could reply, the door to the shop suddenly opened again.

Everyone immediately froze.

Your stomach dropped.

Your boss was not supposed to be back this early.

But instead of your boss, an older wizard, dressed in the official robes of the Hogwarts faculty stepped in. His gaze swept across the room, taking in the mess and the startled Gryffindors.

Gunwook, still gripping the broom like he’d been caught red-handed, let out an awkward cough. "Uh. Hello, Professor."

Your heart sank. This was bad.

Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, slowly folded his arms.

"Would someone like to explain," he began "why I am missing a certain pixie, and after searching everwhere for it, I find it here?"

All eyes immediately turned to Gunwook.

Gunwook blinked. Then, ever so slowly, he pointed at one of his friends. "It was his fault."

"WHAT?!"

Chaos erupted again.

And you—utterly exhausted, utterly done with everything—just buried your face in your hands and groaned.

Even if the entire evening had been a disaster, at least one thing had gone right—you’d managed to hand the pixie back to the Professor after discovering the truth. Apparently, one of the Gryffindors had nicked it from class to pull a prank, only for it to backfire spectacularly when the pixie escaped and caused absolute mayhem.

You had expected the professor to hand out a brutal punishment, but after a long sigh and a muttered, "Gryffindors," he simply took the creature and left, no doubt exhausted from dealing with worse over the years.

With that crisis averted, you and the others scrambled to finish cleaning the shop, fixing the broken cups with hurried Reparo charms and wiping down the tables. By some miracle, they’d all managed to sprint out the door just before your boss returned.

So, in the end, you thought that was that.

You thought you were done with them.

You truly believed you’d be able to return to Hogwarts in peace, wrapped in your own thoughts as you pulled your jacket tighter around you to block out the chill of the evening air.

That belief was shattered the moment a familiar presence suddenly appeared beside you.

"Oi," came Gunwook’s voice, casual as ever.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. "Merlin’s beard,—" You turned your head, only to find him grinning at you, completely unfazed.

He held up a small paper bag, shaking it slightly. "Candy?"

You eyed the bag warily. "Why are you here?"

Gunwook blinked. "I’m walking back to Hogwarts?"

"You could’ve gone with your friends."

"Yeah, but they’re slow." He shrugged, popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth before offering the bag again. "So? Want some?"

You hesitated before sighing, reaching into the bag. "If this is your way of apologizing for ruining my shift, it’s very cheap."

Gunwook gasped in mock offense. "Cheap? I’ll have you know, I used my own money for this."

You gave him a look. "That’s usually how buying things works, Gunwook."

He just laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked beside you. For a few moments, the two of you fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional rustling of leaves in the chilly autumn breeze.

"You know," Gunwook suddenly said, glancing at you, "I think you might secretly like me."

You nearly choked on the candy. "What?"

He grinned, stuffing another chocolate into his mouth. "Just saying! You did let me walk you back."

"You ambushed me."

"Details, details," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You shot him a glare, but he only grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled your jacket tighter around you, trying to ignore the fact that he was still walking beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Gunwook, however, didn’t seem to pick up on—or chose to ignore—your attempts to brush him off. Instead, he casually tilted his head toward you. "So, you work at that little teashop a lot, huh?"

You raised a brow, side-eyeing him. "Yes? Why?"

He hummed, chewing on another piece of candy before responding. "Dunno. Just… didn’t expect you to be the type."

"The type to what? Have a job?"

He snorted. "No, the type to work in a quiet, cozy place like that. You seem more like the ‘rolling your eyes at customers’ type."

You scoffed, though you couldn't deny he had a point. "Well, when you’re dealing with people like you, it’s hard not to roll my eyes."

Gunwook clutched his chest dramatically, nearly dropping the candy bag. "Ouch. You wound me."

"Not hard to do," you muttered under your breath, but he still caught it, laughing in amusement.

For a while, the two of you walked in silence again, the warm glow of the castle slowly coming into view up ahead.

Then, just as you thought Gunwook had finally run out of things to say, he surprised you.

"I think it’s cool, though," he said, voice softer this time. "That you work there."

Before you could figure out how to respond to that, he suddenly nudged the bag of candy toward you again. "Here. You should take some more."

You furrowed your brows. "Why?"

"Because I feel bad about, you know, completely destroying your shift." He flashed you a sheepish grin. "Consider it a peace offering."

You eyed him suspiciously, but after a moment, you sighed and reached into the bag, grabbing a small piece of fudge. "Fine. But this doesn’t mean I forgive you."

"Of course, of course," he said, nodding seriously—though the grin never left his face. "But if you ever do forgive me, I wouldn’t mind getting a free cup of tea next time I stop by."

You rolled your eyes. "You actually think I’d let you into the shop again?"

Gunwook smirked. "You haven’t kicked me yet, have you?"

You groaned, stuffing the fudge into your mouth to stop yourself from saying something you might regret.

Unfortunately, the warmth in your chest had nothing to do with the candy.

And everything to do with the boy walking beside you.

You didn’t see Gunwook for a few days after that night. And you weren’t going to admit it, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. It wasn’t like you wanted him to show up again, but after the strange ease of your last conversation, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d left something unfinished between you two. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you had better things to focus on—like getting through the rest of the week without anything else catastrophic happening.

It wasn’t until you were walking through the crowded Hogwarts hallways, trying to make your way to class, that you found yourself suddenly thrown out of your thoughts.

One minute, you were minding your own business, and the next, something zipped past you with a whoosh—and before you could even react, a body crashed into yours.

You gasped, your eyes instinctively squeezing shut as you braced for impact with the stone floor. But instead of hitting the ground, your body twisted in midair, and you found yourself somehow landing on top of someone, the air knocked from your lungs as they hit the floor with a soft thud.

You blinked rapidly, eyes wide open now, and there he was—Gunwook, his face barely an inch from yours.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Neither of you said anything.

His chest rose and fell beneath you, warm and steady. His eyes—wide with surprise at the sudden collision—locked onto yours, the usual mischievous glint missing for once.

You were too close to him, and it made your heart race faster than you liked to admit. And then, for just a fraction of a second, you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, a thousand thoughts flooding your mind. Was he—was he really looking at my lips?

The heat between you seemed to grow in that brief moment of silence, as though the world outside the two of you had disappeared entirely. But then, like a flip of a switch, Gunwook blinked, snapping his gaze back to your eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Well," he said, still grinning, his voice low and teasing, "this isn’t exactly what I had in mind for our next meeting, but I’ll take it."

You pushed yourself up from him a little too quickly, your heart still hammering in your chest as your face flushed. "Are you insane?!"

Gunwook let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his head where it had collided with the ground. "Guess I’m not the only one who can’t keep their balance around here."

You took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure as students began to gather around, staring curiously at the two of you on the floor. You shot a quick, annoyed glance at him. "Maybe you should keep your Quaffle under control next time."

Gunwook’s grin widened, and he winked. "Maybe I don’t want to— not if it gets me this close to you again."

You froze. Your eyes locked with his for a moment longer than you cared to admit, and the feeling of his hands against your sides as he helped you up sent a strange shiver down your spine.

"Next time," you muttered, still not quite able to look him in the eye, "keep your distance."

He raised an eyebrow, stepping back and brushing off his robes. "If you insist, I guess. Though, I can’t promise I’ll be able to stay away if you keep tempting me."

You froze, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Tempting him? You were sure you hadn't done anything to warrant that kind of remark. But as Gunwook’s grin stretched wider, clearly savoring the effect his words had on you, you couldn’t deny that your heart was still racing.

"Gunwook," you started, your voice much shakier than you intended, "you’re unbelievable."

He simply tilted his head, eyes still gleaming with that playful glint. "Is that a challenge?"

You quickly shook your head, desperate to regain control of the situation. "No! No challenges. I’m just saying—keep your comments to yourself, alright?"

Gunwook took a step closer again, and you couldn’t help but tense up at the proximity, your brain racing. Was he really that bold?

"Alright, alright." He raised his hands in mock surrender, though that smirk never left his face. "I’ll keep the comments to myself—for now."

You barely managed to suppress a groan. "Good. Now go... do whatever it is you do."

With a soft chuckle, Gunwook straightened up and took a step back. "Guess I’ll see you around, then."

You nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

Gunwook turned, seemingly satisfied with the interaction, and started to walk away, his footsteps gradually growing fainter as he made his way through the bustling hall. You stood there for a moment, trying to steady your breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly fade, replaced by a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place.

You had no idea what that was. What he was doing, or why it made your heart flutter in a way you were absolutely not prepared for.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, trying to push the interaction out of your mind as you continued your walk to class.

The rest of the day passed in a blur—disjointed conversations, lectures that didn’t seem to hold your attention, and the occasional glance from friends who probably noticed your distracted state. You couldn’t focus on anything without your mind drifting back to Gunwook.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself back in the common room later that evening, your thoughts still tangled. You were reading, though you hadn’t registered a single word, your mind preoccupied with the earlier interaction.

You closed the book with a frustrated sigh and set it down on the table. Maybe it was time to give your brain a break—or maybe you were just avoiding dealing with the fact that Gunwook had somehow gotten under your skin.

A soft shuffle of footsteps broke your train of thought, and you glanced up to see one of your friends, Yuna, entering the common room. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and she immediately made her way over to your table, her curious gaze scanning you.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting down across from you. "You’ve been a bit... out of it today."

You nodded, trying to dismiss the thoughts of Gunwook that had been distracting you all day. "Yeah, just... distracted." You couldn’t exactly tell her why, could you? The last thing you needed was for Yuna to start pestering you about him.

"Distractions can be a good thing, though," she teased, clearly reading the shift in your mood. "You’ve got that... look."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "What look?"

Yuna leaned forward, grinning widely. "The 'I met someone who’s got my attention' look."

You froze for a second. Did she know?

"No," you quickly said, shaking your head, hoping the heat rising in your cheeks wasn’t too obvious. "It’s just school stuff. I’m fine."

Yuna raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push further. Instead, she let out a soft sigh. "Alright, if you say so. But just so you know, I’m not buying it."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You never do, do you?"

Yuna just shrugged. "I know you too well. But whatever, I'll let you figure it out yourself."

That was all you really wanted to do—figure it out by yourself. But as much as you tried to tell yourself that, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the answer was slipping further away every time Gunwook flashed that smug grin of his or said something that made your heart beat a little too fast.

You’d been trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal. It was just Gunwook—annoying, persistent, and always just a little too close for comfort. You could handle it. It wasn’t like he was that special, right?

But you knew better. The more you tried to convince yourself, the more confusing it became. And honestly? You'd rather scrub cauldrons with Professor Snape glaring over your shoulder than trying to figure out Gunwook. At least with Snape, you knew exactly what to expect—sneers, insults, and the possibility of something blowing up in your face. Gunwook, though? He was a puzzle you couldn't even begin to unravel.

The next few days passed in a blur, with Gunwook and his constant presence never far from your thoughts. Every time you saw him in the hallways, your stomach did that ridiculous flip, and it wasn’t even like he was doing anything special. He was just... there. Watching you with that look in his eyes that could have meant anything—or nothing at all.

You tried to avoid him. Or, at least, you told yourself you would. But the problem was, every time you tried, you’d end up bumping into him at the most inconvenient moments. The hallway outside the library, the staircase on your way to class, and once even by the Gryffindor common room, where he’d casually lean against the wall like he was waiting for you.

"Not again," you muttered under your breath, but sure enough, there he was. Gunwook stood at the top of the stairs, a bag of sweets in one hand and that damn grin plastered across his face.

"Why so serious?" he asked, tilting his head. "Didn’t expect to run into you here."

"Why are you always where I am?" you shot back, crossing your arms, trying to mask the irritation that only came from how damn good he was at showing up uninvited.

He shrugged, taking a leisurely step closer. "Maybe I like the view."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but something about his tone caught you off guard. Was he teasing you? Or was there something else there? You really didn’t want to think about it too hard.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, stepping around him, but of course, he moved just enough to block your path, as if he knew exactly how to make you stop.

"Am I?" he asked, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed your ear. "You don’t seem to mind too much."

You froze, heart pounding in your chest. There was no denying it—he was doing it on purpose. And you hated yourself for the way your pulse skipped a beat.

"You don’t know what you’re doing," you whispered, trying to stay composed.

Gunwook simply looked at you, the playful spark in his eyes replaced by something a little deeper, a little more... intentional. "I think I do."

You hated how that sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how easy it was for him to unnerve you. But more than anything, you hated that despite everything you couldn’t seem to walk away.

And that, you realized, was the most frustrating part. The fact that no matter how hard you tried to figure it out, you couldn’t seem to resist the pull he had on you.

Now, one thing with Gunwook that had become a regular occurrence was his tendency to tease you in that infuriatingly flirty way of his. He’d pop up when you least expected it, say something that made your cheeks flush, and all you could do was roll your eyes or shut him down. The last thing you needed was to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he could affect you with just a look or a sly comment.

Gunwook, however, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it more the more you tried to push him away. It was like a game to him, one that he was determined to win—even if he didn’t know the rules. And you? Well, you hated that he kept winning, even though you never gave him the satisfaction of admitting it.

That was just the dynamic between you two, and honestly, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t handled before. You had your own way of pushing back, of keeping things at arm's length. What you didn’t have to deal with was this strange, flustering feeling whenever he got close. It was like your brain short-circuited, and the only thing you could do was put on the mask of indifference and push him away.

But, there was one person you didn’t need to keep a distance from—Maki.

Maki was a Gryffindor friend who shared a similar teasing dynamic with you. The difference was, with him, you didn’t hold back. You gave it right back to him, returning every sarcastic jab or playful comment with something just as sharp or just as ridiculous. It was fun, and it was safe. You knew where you stood with Maki, and there was never any awkwardness, no heart-racing moments that made you second-guess yourself.

But what you didn’t realize was that Gunwook had been a witness to a particular exchange.

It happened one afternoon when you, Maki, and a couple of other friends had gathered in the grand hall, chatting and laughing. Gunwook had walked in, clearly looking for some distraction, but when he saw the way you and Maki were bantering back and forth—mocking each other, laughing too loudly, trying to one-up the other—it caught his attention.

You noticed that Gunwook’s gaze had drifted over to you two, a little too intense, a little too curious. And you couldn’t quite tell if it was the way you and Maki made each other laugh that was so intriguing or if it was just the way the two of you acted together that seemed to capture his attention.

"Come on, just admit it," Maki said with a smirk, flicking his wand to levitate a book towards you. "I’m better at Transfiguration than you. I’m pretty sure you just got lucky with that last answer."

You directed your attention back to Maki and grinned, eyes narrowing. "Lucky? Please, I’m always better than you."

Maki chuckled, clearly pleased by the exchange. "You’re delusional if you think—"

But before he could finish his sentence, you flicked your wand to send his book spiraling out of his reach, laughing as he scrambled to catch it. "Oh, is that so?" you teased. "You can barely keep up, Maki. Are you sure you're not losing your touch?"

Gunwook couldn’t hold back the slight chuckle that escaped him. His eyes flicked between the two of you with a mix of amusement and... something else.

He watched the playful exchange unfold before him, and when Maki shot you a playful grin, he raised an eyebrow.

"Guess you two are quite the pair," Gunwook remarked casually, as if commenting on something he’d been observing for some time.

You froze, your laughter dying down just slightly, but you didn’t let it show. "What’s that supposed to mean?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

Maki, ever the tease, leaned in toward Gunwook with a sly smile. "Oh, you know how it is. We have great chemistry."

Gunwook’s eyes flicked from Maki to you, and for a moment, the playful light in them shifted into something more thoughtful. "Huh," he said, his voice quieter now. "So that’s how it is."

Your chest tightened, and you could feel the shift in the air. You hadn’t realized just how much Gunwook had been watching, paying attention to how you interacted with Maki. And for some reason, that made you uncomfortable. Not because of Maki—Maki was your friend—but because Gunwook had not seen that side of you, the side where you weren’t trying to guard your feelings, where you weren’t second-guessing everything you said.

He didn’t say anything else after that, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, just a little. Gunwook had noticed something about you, and that made you question whether you’d been too careless around him. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, what he thought about your dynamic with Maki.

As you exchanged a final glance with Maki, you quickly turned to leave the gradn hall, your heart pounding in your chest. Gunwook was still standing there, watching you as you walked away, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just opened the door to something that was about to get a lot more complicated.

It did get more complicated, just as you’d feared. After that day, it seemed like Gunwook had made it his personal mission to push your buttons more than ever. His teasing remarks were sharper, more frequent, and without fail, they made you flustered every single time. He had this uncanny ability to zero in on your weak spots, effortlessly making you blush or stumble over your words when you least expected it.

You’d be walking through the hallways, trying to avoid making eye contact with him, but then he'd lean in from out of nowhere, his voice low and smooth. "I was just thinking about how good you looked in that sweater the other day."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks before you even processed what he’d said. You quickly shoved your hands in your pockets, avoiding his gaze. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was no use. Your heart was hammering, your thoughts were racing, and all you could do was focus on walking away as quickly as possible without looking like you were about to combust.

And then there were the times when he’d purposefully appear right behind you, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. His voice would come from just over your shoulder, and the way he’d drop a casual compliment always made your pulse spike.

"Careful there, you might just break hearts if you keep looking like that," he’d say with that teasing smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

It was infuriating how easily he made you lose focus. You hated it. And yet, you didn’t do a thing to stop it.

The worst part was how effortless it all seemed for him. Gunwook wasn’t just teasing in that playful way anymore—there was something more layered to it. It was like he knew exactly how much it would make you squirm, how much he could push you before you’d retreat into yourself. But it was never enough for him. He’d always find a new angle, a new way to leave you flustered.

You found yourself seeking ways to avoid him, hoping that maybe if you stayed out of his path long enough, the teasing would die down. But then you’d find him sitting at the edge of the courtyard when you least expected it, catching you off guard with that damn grin.

"Did you miss me?" he’d ask, voice light but knowing. And you would just stand there, blinking in disbelief, too embarrassed to answer. You had no idea how he did it—how he could keep showing up when you thought you had enough distance.

One afternoon, you were walking to the library, trying to get through a mountain of homework, when you turned a corner and found yourself nearly face-to-face with Gunwook, who had somehow appeared out of thin air. Before you could even blink, his hand shot out, brushing your arm in that way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Whoa there," he said with that ever-so-charming smile. "You didn’t see me coming, huh?"

You stepped back instinctively, your heart racing in your chest. "Seriously, Gunwook? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

He shrugged casually, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Nah, just trying to keep you on your toes."

It felt like your entire body was on alert, the way he stood so close, his gaze lingering a little too long on your face, like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t say anything that would give him more ammunition. You had to keep it together, even though every part of you was screaming to back away before you did something you’d regret.

"I’m just trying to get to the library," you said, forcing a smile, sidestepping him as you attempted to regain some sense of normalcy. "You know, not fall over from shock."

He matched your pace, stepping along beside you. "And what’s in the library for you? Looking for a little escape from all this fun?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, hoping it would throw him off, but Gunwook didn’t seem to mind. He was in it for the long haul, and you were caught right in the middle of it.

"I swear, Gunwook, you’re the most infuriating person," you muttered, but there was no real heat behind it. You couldn’t even muster up the frustration to match your words. It was like you were too tired to argue anymore, too flustered by him to even try.

"Well," he said, drawing out the word, "I guess I’m your favorite type of infuriating person then."

You were about to shoot back a quick retort, but before you could, you heard Maki’s voice in the distance, calling out to you.

"Hey! Don’t let him get to you, alright? You know he’s just messing with you!"

You sighed in relief, finally having a reason to escape the conversation. "Thanks, Maki!" you called back, shooting Gunwook one last glance. "I’m going to the library to actually get some work done, not to get distracted by you."

Gunwook raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll let you have your peace," he said, but the mischievous twinkle in his eyes told you he wasn’t going to make it easy.

Gunwook didn’t make it easy. Not one bit. In fact, it seemed like he had decided to make it his personal mission to join you wherever you went. You hadn’t even been in the library long, your focus on the books in front of you as you tried to dig through them and find the references you needed. The quiet hum of the library normally gave you peace, but that tranquility was fleeting, because just as you flipped through a thick tome, you felt the unmistakable presence of someone standing far too close behind you.

A shiver ran down your spine before the familiar voice of Gunwook slid into your ear, smooth and dangerously close. “You know, it’s a lot more fun to study when there’s company,” he murmured, the words so soft that they made your breath catch.

You froze, the book slipping slightly in your hands as you tried—unsuccessfully—to ignore the closeness of his body. Your heart rate sped up in a way that had nothing to do with your academic endeavors. “Gunwook,” you said, trying to sound annoyed, though you could hear the waver in your voice that betrayed you. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d join you,” he replied casually, his tone almost too smug for your liking. “You’ve been spending so much time avoiding me, figured I’d make things a little more... interesting.”

You tried to focus on the pages in front of you, but every time you turned a page, the faint scent of his cologne, mixed with the warmth of his proximity, sent a jolt through your system. He was right there, so close that if you moved an inch, you’d be brushing against him.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you muttered, hoping you sounded convincing. “I was trying to get some work done.”

Gunwook chuckled, a sound that was somehow both teasing and entirely too intimate for the library. “And now you can’t concentrate, can you?” His voice was low and playful, making your skin prickle.

You quickly moved to shift your position, but Gunwook anticipated the move. Before you could even react, he was leaning over your shoulder, his arms brushing against yours as he glanced down at your open book. “What’s this, huh? Studying for Potions? I could help you with that.”

“Help?” you scoffed, trying your best to sound uninterested. “You? You probably can’t even remember what the ingredients for a simple healing potion are.”

“Oh, I know them,” he said smoothly, his voice light. “I just don’t care enough to memorize them like someone here does.”

You rolled your eyes, already aware of where this conversation was going. His teasing never stopped, and you never quite seemed able to push him away. He always found a way to slip through the cracks in your defenses.

“Seriously,” you said, hoping to steer the conversation back to your work, “I really do need to focus.”

But Gunwook wasn’t having any of it. He leaned in just a little closer, his breath now warm against your neck. “You don’t need to focus. You need a break,” he whispered, his voice laced with that same playful, distracting tone. “And I think I’m just the person to help you with that.”

Before you could even respond, he pressed himself just a little further behind you, making it almost impossible for you to continue reading without feeling like he was taking up every inch of your attention. You could feel the heat of his chest against your back, the slight weight of his body as he hovered, and suddenly, the library didn’t feel so peaceful anymore.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, frustrated, but not nearly enough to push him away.

“No,” he replied with a grin you couldn’t see but could definitely hear in his voice. “I’m exactly what you need.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control.

But Gunwook seemed to have a way of making even the most mundane situations feel like something you couldn’t walk away from.

You barely had time to process his words before a sudden movement broke your focus. As someone walked by, Gunwook’s hand shot out without warning, gripping your waist tightly and pulling you just a little closer, pressing your back into him. The sudden closeness made your breath catch in your throat, your body jolting in response as the weight of his hand on your waist intensified.

The force of it caused you to lose your grip on the book in your hands, and it slipped from your fingers, falling to the floor with a dull thud. A gasp escaped your lips as you braced yourself against the nearby shelves to steady yourself, your heart hammering in your chest from the shock of it all.

“Gunwook!” you whispered sharply, your breath shaky as you quickly righted yourself, still feeling the ghost of his touch against your side.

He didn’t let go immediately. Instead, his grip lingered for just a moment longer, his body still pressed up behind you as if the situation was completely normal. “What?” he said innocently, though there was an undeniable smirk in his voice. “I was just trying to make sure you didn’t fall.”

Your pulse was racing, but you couldn’t tell whether it was from the embarrassment of the situation or something else entirely. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the way his presence seemed to consume the space between you, making it hard to think clearly.

You finally managed to pull away, though it was more out of necessity than desire. “You can’t just—” you started, but your words trailed off when you turned to face him, catching the amused look in his eyes.

You stood there for a moment, unable to find the words to finish your sentence, your mind still swirling from the closeness of the moment. His eyes—those mischievous, bright eyes—seemed to be studying you, like he knew exactly what effect he was having on you, and it made your chest tighten.

"You were saying?" Gunwook asked, his voice teasing but with a hint of curiosity, as if he was genuinely interested in your response. His smirk never left, though now it felt almost like a challenge.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. It was like your brain had short-circuited, and all you could focus on was the warmth of his body that had been so close to yours just moments before. You should have been mad, or at least frustrated, but instead, you were acutely aware of how his presence seemed to wrap around you, making it difficult to push him away.

“I…” You stopped, finally shaking your head as you closed your eyes for a moment to regain your composure. “You can’t just keep doing this,” you said, though the words felt weak even as they left your lips. You wanted to sound firm, to set some boundary, but it was hard when you weren’t sure what you wanted from him.

Gunwook leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to something that sent a shiver down your spine. “Doing what? Just having a little fun with you?” His tone was soft but laced with something deeper, something you couldn't quite identify, and it made your heart beat faster.

You took a step back, needing space, needing air. “You’re not funny, Gunwook,” you muttered, trying to regain control.

But he just smiled, that same unreadable, confident smile that made you feel like he knew more than he was letting on. “I think you like it, though,” he said, his words barely above a whisper. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a brief, stolen moment, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

Your pulse quickened, and for a moment, you felt paralyzed, caught in that brief glance and the weight of his words. Gunwook wasn’t just teasing anymore—there was something else beneath the surface. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on you, something more intense than the usual playful banter.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to push back against the tension he’d stirred up, but your voice failed you for a second.

“You don’t have to admit it, but I can tell,” he said, his voice low, the teasing edge still there but softened by something more sincere, almost vulnerable. “You’ve been reacting to me this whole time.”

It was like the ground beneath your feet shifted. You wanted to brush him off, to laugh it off as just another one of his games, but it was impossible. The way he said it, so casually, like he had nothing to lose, made you feel as though he had cracked open something inside of you that you hadn’t been ready to face.

You exhaled, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’m not—” you started, but the words died on your lips as you caught his gaze again. He was watching you so intently, as if he could see right through the walls you’d built up.

He tilted his head slightly, that glint of challenge still in his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he murmured. “I already know how you feel.”

For a heartbeat, the world around you felt too loud, the rustle of pages and soft murmurs of students in the library nothing but background noise to the sudden silence between you. You weren’t sure how to respond, or if you even could.

The way Gunwook had a way of getting under your skin, of pushing you just enough to make you confront things you weren’t ready to, made your chest tighten. You wanted to tell him off, to shut him down for good, but part of you… part of you was starting to question if you even wanted that.

“Gunwook…” you finally whispered, your voice almost a plea, though you didn’t know what you were pleading for.

He didn’t move, didn’t break the distance between you, but there was something in his eyes—something softer now. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly.

Neither of you moved for a while, but the space between you slowly seemed to shrink, as though some invisible force was drawing you closer together.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding with each second that passed. You should’ve said something, anything to break the moment, but instead, all you could do was watch the subtle shift in his expression—the softening of his features as he held your gaze. It was like he was waiting for something from you, or maybe you were waiting for something from him.

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. You found yourself leaning in, just slightly, just enough to close the gap between you, your breath mingling in the air that hung between you. You could feel the pull—magnetic, inevitable—and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from moving closer.

Gunwook didn’t back away either. If anything, he seemed to lean in just as much, as if testing the boundary between you two, both of you moving closer without quite realizing it.

The moment your lips finally met, it was soft, hesitant—almost like a question being asked, an answer left unspoken. It was just a fleeting touch, barely enough to make your pulse race, but as soon as you pulled back, the world around you felt strangely quiet. You both stood there, eyes wide and breath shallow, staring at each other as though neither of you could quite believe what had just happened.

For a beat, neither of you moved. You weren’t sure if you were waiting for him to speak, or if you were waiting for yourself to make sense of what had just transpired. But the silence stretched too long, and the pull between you—now so much stronger—was impossible to ignore.

Before you knew it, your hand was already reaching out, grabbing the front of Gunwook’s tie, pulling him back in without thinking. His breath hitched as his body reacted instinctively, closing the distance between you, lips crashing together again, this time deeper, more urgent.

The world around you seemed to vanish as your lips moved in sync, kissing with a hunger that neither of you had fully acknowledged before. Gunwook’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, until there was no space left between you, your body pressed up against the cool shelves behind you. The weight of his touch sent shivers down your spine as his arms circled around you, holding you tighter.

The kiss deepened, becoming more frantic, more desperate. It felt like everything had been building to this point—the teasing, the tension, the stolen glances—and now there was no holding back.

You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a library, surrounded by students who could easily walk by. It felt like everything else had faded, leaving only the two of you.

Gunwook's hands slid to your back, guiding you closer as he pressed you harder against the shelves.

Time slowed. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in the kiss, caught in a moment that felt both like a beginning and an end. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your heart raced in your chest, and your mind felt like it was reeling.

Gunwook was still close, his forehead resting against yours, breath coming in heavy pants. His lips were swollen, and his eyes—those playful eyes—held something more serious now.

“You’re not going to be able to get rid of me now,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You took a breath, the teasing glint still alive in your eyes. "Oh, I think I can handle it," you said, voice laced with playful challenge. Your fingers brushed lightly over his shoulders, the contact sending a ripple of electricity through you. "But I’m not sure you’re as easy to get rid of as you think."

Gunwook chuckled, the sound low and warm in your ear. "Is that so?" he teased, leaning down slightly, his lips grazing the side of your neck, sending a shiver through your body. His hands shifted, fingertips gliding along the curve of your waist under the fabric of your robe, making you bite your lip in an attempt to suppress the wave of warmth that flooded you.

Your own fingers trailed across the smooth skin of his neck, feeling the tension there as your touch sent a shiver down his spine. "You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who just got put in their place," you teased, running your hand down to his shoulder, your thumb brushing over the muscles there.

Gunwook smirked, his hands drawing you closer as his fingers traced circles along your hips, his touch growing more confident. "I like to test my limits," he murmured, pressing his lips to your neck again, this time lingering a moment longer, savoring the sensation.

He moved his hands down, one sliding lower on your waist, the other gently resting on the curve of your hip. "You should be careful," he whispered, his voice now a hushed growl in your ear. "You might not be able to walk away if you keep this up."

You felt his lips press gently against your jaw, the soft caress sending a ripple of heat through you. "I’m not worried about walking away," you shot back, your fingers now tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your touch. "But you should be careful. I might not be as easy to keep around as you think."

A slow smile spread across his face, his gaze more intense. "I’m starting to like the challenge," he said.

And without another word, his lips found yours again—slow at first, as though testing the waters. But you didn’t need time to think, not anymore. You responded instantly, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was far from innocent.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he deepened the kiss, his touch gentle. The world around you seemed to disappear as his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath you shared.

And you would never pull away from him.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

@enhaprettystars @zorange13 @jiminie-08 @chocowonnie

@enhamonsterghoul @mrsjjongstby @bussolares @kiripimaspillow

@sumsumtingz @norucking @tunafishyfishylike @txnwvc

@jakeluvrrs @firstclassjaylee @xnatqq @arclviie @aussie-boys-wife

@vvenusoncasual @bamguetismee

[meadowfics]

I love your kang family series. Can I request a story of reader being in labor and Daeho being her rock thru it all and maybe even have some bits about how great he is helping her once they arrive home with a newborn. I live for domestic daeho - I love your writing!! If you don’t want to write this, that’s totally cool too lol

I wrote it :D I love this concept <3

seoah's and byeol's birth headcannons:

kang dae ho x f!reader for the kang family series

seo-ah was born exactly four months after the nightmare of the games ended.

you and dae-ho had been trying to put yourselves back together, trying to find normalcy in a world that no longer felt as stable as it once did.

your daughter is your light, the one thing that reminded you both that there was something good waiting for you on the other side of survival.

labor was terrifying, but not because of the pain though.

you had endured worse.

it was because you had never felt so vulnerable before.

this was different from fighting for your life.

this was bringing a new life into the world, one that you and dae-ho were responsible for protecting.

dae-ho was your rock through every contraction, every wave of pain that crashed through you.

he held your hand so tightly, whispering reassurances in your ear.

“you’re so strong, baby. you’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. you can do this. i know you can.”

he refused to leave your side. even when the nurses suggested he take a break, get some food, stretch his legs...he wouldn’t hear it.

“she’s doing all the work. i can sit here.”

the fear was there, though.

not of the labor, but of the world outside this hospital.

you and dae-ho had survived something most people could never comprehend.

now, you were bringing your daughter into this world.

one that had already shown you its cruelest side.

would she be safe? would she ever have to suffer the way you did?

then, the moment she was born, all of that fear melted away.

the second she let out her first cry, the second her tiny body was placed on your chest, it was like nothing else mattered.

she was real. she was yours. she was safe.

dae-ho cried.

he tried to hold it back, but when he saw her, so small, so perfect, his whole body trembled with emotion.

he kissed your forehead repeatedly, his voice breaking as he whispered,

“you did it. you did so good. she’s beautiful. she’s ours.”

he counted all of her little fingers and toes like they might disappear if he didn’t memorize them right then and there.

when you were too exhausted to hold her, he took over immediately, cradling her with the softest look in his eyes.

“hey, baby girl,”

he murmured, his voice thick with love.

“i’m your appa.”

he never put her down.

the nurses had to tell him to rest, but he just sat in the chair beside your hospital bed, watching over both of you, like he was afraid that if he blinked too long, this would all disappear.

once you were discharged, the reality of being home with a newborn hit hard.

neither of you had slept properly in days, and yet, dae-ho never complained. not once.

he handled the diaper changes when your body was too sore to move, holding seo-ah carefully like she was made of glass.

he rocked her in his arms when she was fussy, pacing the bedroom in slow steps, humming softly to soothe her.

“i got her, baby,”

he whispered when you stirred in the middle of the night, hearing the soft cries of your newborn.

“go back to sleep. you need rest too.”

you never wanted to sleep, not really.

you just wanted to watch them, watch your husband, the man who had been through hell and back, holding your daughter with so much love, so much devotion.

the games had hardened you both, made you see the world in a different way.

when you looked at seo-ah, she was proof that there was still softness left.

dae-ho told her stories while she lay in his arms, even though she was too young to understand.

“your eomma is the bravest person i know,”

he’d whisper against her tiny head.

“she saved us both. you have no idea how lucky you are to have her.”

he took pictures of you with seo-ah whenever he could, knowing you’d be too tired to think about it yourself.

“i don’t want you to forget these moments,”

he said when you caught him doing it for the tenth time.

he made sure you ate, made sure you had water, made sure you took your pain meds when you needed them. he took care of you while taking care of seo-ah.

he never let you feel like you were alone.

in the hardest moments, when the exhaustion was too much, when the fear of being a good mother weighed heavily on your shoulders, he was there.

byeol:

your pregnancy with byeol was a completely different experience from your pregnancy with seo-ah.

with seo-ah, you had been five months pregnant while fighting for your life, every day filled with stress, fear, and the uncertainty of whether you’d even make it out alive on that island.

this time, you were safe.

you were home.

you had everything you needed, and most importantly, you had dae-ho right there beside you through it all.

this pregnancy felt like a reward.

a chance to experience it the way you were supposed to.

no survival games, no debts, no trauma weighing down every thought.

just you, your growing baby, and your beautiful family.

since it was your second pregnancy, things were so much easier.

you knew what to expect, how to handle the morning sickness, the weird cravings, the exhaustion.

you weren’t as anxious this time, because you had already done it once before.

“you’re glowing,”

dae-ho would say at least five times a day, his hands resting gently on your belly, his lips pressing kisses to your forehead.

“i mean, you’re always beautiful, but pregnancy looks really good on you.”

“you just like that i get all round and soft,”

you teased, nudging him.

“i like you,”

he grinned, kissing you again.

the one major difference this time?

you had a toddler to take care of too.

seo-ah was only three when you got pregnant with byeol, which meant you and dae-ho had to balance raising a little ball of energy while preparing for a newborn.

dae-ho, being the incredible husband and father that he was, stepped up in every way possible.

“baby, sit down,”

he would tell you whenever you tried to do anything remotely tiring.

“you’re growing a whole human, let me handle it.”

he overcompensates on this pregnancy, since he felt terrible that he couldn't help you when you were pregnant during the games.

however, he would never say this out loud.

he cooked more, cleaned more, made sure seo-ah was entertained so you could rest.

he even started taking seo-ah out on little father-daughter dates just to give you some peace and quiet when you needed it.

there were times where seo-ah was obsessed with your growing belly.

dae-ho melted every time he saw seo-ah talk or gush about your belly.

“she’s going to be the best big sister,”

he whispered one night, his hand resting on top of yours as you both watched her fall asleep curled up beside you.

this pregnancy gave you a level of peace you never thought you’d have after everything you had been through.

nine months after conceiving, labor was still painful(obviously), but it wasn’t terrifying like it had been with seo-ah.

there was no underlying developing trauma this time, no lingering fear of the outside world.

dae-ho was there, holding your hand just like he had before, whispering words of encouragement, rubbing your back through every contraction.

“you’re amazing,”

he told you between kisses to your damp forehead.

“you’re so strong, baby. just a little more, you’re almost there.”

at last, byeol was born.

she was placed on your chest, and the second you looked at her, your heart stopped.

she was you.

your nose, your lips, your cheeks.

everything about her was like looking into a smaller version of yourself.

“well,”

dae-ho chuckled, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed down at her.

“guess i lost this one, huh?”

you laughed breathlessly, tears filling your eyes as you pressed your lips to byeol’s soft little head.

“she’s perfect.”

“she’s you,”

he corrected, stroking her tiny hand with his thumb.

“and that means she’s definitely perfect.”

seo-ah was beyond excited to meet her baby sister.

“she’s so small,”

she gasped when she first saw her, her big brown eyes wide with awe.

“you were this small once too, baby,”

dae-ho told her, helping her climb onto the couch to sit beside you.

“no way,”

she whispered dramatically.

daeho handled the nighttime feeds when you were too tired to move, he made sure seo-ah still felt just as loved even with a newborn in the house, and he took care of you.

“you just gave birth, baby,”

he would remind you whenever you tried to do too much.

“sit down. let me take care of things.”

he would press kisses to your temple as he held byeol against his chest, rocking her gently.

“honestly, I think i’m the luckiest man alive,”

he would say out of nowhere, watching you nurse byeol while seo-ah played with her toys.

“oh yeah?”

you smiled, exhausted but happy.

“yeah,”

he nodded.

“two beautiful daughters. the best wife in the world. i don’t need anything else.”

he is right. neither of you did.

[yanderecrazysie]

Bad Choices (Yandere Sakusa)

Requested on Quotev

Title: Bad Choices

Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, bullying, college AU

You were finally going to get away.

Away from your family, that old cramped house, your crappy school, and, best of all, him.

Sakusa was somewhat popular at your old school, at least to those who cared about sports. He was a germaphobe but, ironically, couldn’t have been more nasty of a person in your eyes. 

He had never been nice to you- outright ignoring you in your first year, even when you tried to be friendly. The second year, he started to make snide remarks and bump into you on purpose. Third year? He made your life hell.

Snide comments turned to outright insults, little bumps turned to full-out pushing you down... He stuffed you into a locker and left you there overnight. He took an upskirt photo of you without your knowledge and placed printed out copies all over the school walls. He dumped a full cafeteria trash can over your head.

He made your life miserable with his cruelty… but now, he wouldn’t be able to. You were going to a small university in a far-away city. There was no way he’d run into you there.

Or so you thought.

—---------------------------------

You were in a rush to get to your next class, head down as you ran with your books in hand. Unsurprisingly, not paying attention to where you were going was a bad idea, and you ran face first into someone, spilling books everywhere.

“I’m so sorry!” you gasped, picking the books up, “I wasn’t looking-”

You stopped when you caught sight of the person you had run into. Of course, out of everyone in the world, you had crashed into Sakusa.

“Why are you here?” you demanded to know. 

“I go to this university,” Sakusa replied. Not in a mean way, but matter-of-factly with a hint of an eagerness that left you confused and more than a little concerned.

He was undeniably Sakusa- the face mask, curly black hair, and tell-tale beauty marks- but he had a softer expression on his face, one you’d never seen before. Usually, he had a cruel look in his eyes before he started to torment you, but that expression didn’t seem to be there today.

Still, that didn’t mean you trusted him. You scrambled to pick up the last book and tried to run past, cutting the conversation short, but Sakusa grabbed ahold of your sleeve, stopping you from running off.

“What do you want?” you snapped.

“I was wondering,” Sakusa brought up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, as though he was embarrassed, “Do you want to go on a date?”

You stared blankly at him for a moment before you started to laugh. Not an amused laugh, but a hysterical “are-you-kidding-me” laugh. You couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth.

Surely, this was some kind of terrible joke he was trying to pull. Otherwise, he had to be insane to suggest such a thing.

“What’s the trick to that?” you snarled, “I show up and you dump a bucket of trash over my head?”

“Huh?” Sakusa had the audacity to look surprised, “No, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh, yeah, you would,” you snapped, “In fact, you did. Twice.”

Sakusa raised his arms in a sort of shrug, “Why don’t we put the past behind us?”

Fury surged through you, “What? You want me to forget that you were a garbage excuse for a human being and go on a date with you?”

“Listen,” Sakusa said bashfully, “I’ve liked you since our first year of high school. I just didn’t know how to show it.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” you said sharply, “Well, you dug your own grave, so lie in it. I’d rather die than go on a date with you.”

Sakusa let go of your sleeve, “You don’t mean that.”

“I meant every single word,” you told him truthfully, “Now, I have to go to class. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You stormed off to your apartment. You were already too late to go to class on time and you didn’t feel like learning about molecules anymore.

You didn’t notice Sakusa following you.

—-----------------------------

CRASH

A sudden shattering sound woke you up. You sat up straight in bed and immediately started groping for your phone. It wasn’t on the nightstand, you realized with a sinking feeling, which meant you had accidentally left it in your purse on the dresser.

You carefully got up and tried to run across your bedroom to the dresser, but you were blinded by the light from a flashlight. You grabbed your purse and swung it at the intruder, knowing it would do nothing to actually protect you. But if you could only distract them for a moment…

“Ow!” came a familiar voice after your purse connected with their face. The light flicked on and you were horrified by what you saw.

Sakusa held up a pistol, trained on your heart. His normally-perfect hair was plastered to his forehead and he looked somewhat crazed. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple, merging with the white medical mask still on his face.

“Sakusa?” your voice shook as hard as your body, “What are you doing?”

“You said you’d rather die than go on a date with me,” Sakusa replied calmly, “I want to know if that’s true…”

Sakusa took the safety off.

“Now, make your choice.”

[fudgeez]

Safe in Your Arms - NingNing x Fem reader

Synopsis: Ningning, overwhelmed by practice and self-doubt, longs for the comfort of another's embrace.

The air in the apartment crackles with silence, heavy with exhaustion and unspoken frustration. It clings to Ningning like a second skin, wrapping around her as she stumbles through the door, her body screaming in protest after another grueling practice session. The ache in her muscles is nothing compared to the weight pressing against her chest—a suffocating mix of self-doubt and relentless pressure.

She’s been pushing herself harder than ever, desperate to find that missing spark, that elusive perfection that seems just beyond her reach. With the comeback looming closer, every mistake, every misstep feels magnified, as if the whole world is watching and waiting for her to fail.

Letting out a shaky breath, she tosses her bag onto the couch with a dull thud. The impact barely registers in her mind.

She feels too drained, too consumed by the war raging inside her head to notice anything around her—not the soft glow of candlelight flickering from the dining table, not the delicate scent of fresh flowers perfuming the air, and certainly not the way Y/N has been waiting for her, carefully preparing something special.

Because today is their anniversary.

But Ningning forgets. She’s too lost in the chaos of her own thoughts, in the exhaustion gripping her limbs and the frustration tightening in her chest.

Y/N, who had spent the past hour making sure everything was perfect—their favorite takeout laid out neatly, a small bouquet nestled in the center of the table, soft music playing in the background—sees the exhaustion in Ningning’s face the moment she steps through the door. And in that instant, they know.

She doesn’t remember.

But instead of feeling hurt, Y/N only feels concern.

Ningning looks like she’s on the verge of breaking, and that matters more than any anniversary.

Silently, Y/N walks toward her, their voice gentle as they reach out.

“Hey,” they murmur, their touch feather-light against her arm. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

Ningning exhales sharply, her lips pressing together in a thin line. She nods, but words feel too heavy to form.

Y/N offers a small, understanding smile. “Come sit down,” they say softly, guiding her toward the dining table. “I made dinner. Well, ordered it. But it’s your favorite.”

For the first time since stepping inside, Ningning actually looks at the table. Her gaze flickers over the neatly arranged plates, the candles burning softly, the delicate arrangement of flowers sitting in the middle. Guilt tugs at her chest.

She should have remembered. She should have come home excited, with a gift in hand, ready to celebrate the person who had been her safe haven for so long. But right now, she feels like she barely has the energy to hold herself upright.

Still, she sits.

She picks at her food absently, her mind too tangled in frustrations to fully register the taste. But Y/N doesn’t push her to talk. They don’t ask why she’s so quiet, don’t demand that she be present in a moment she’s clearly struggling to stay in. They just sit there, a steady, grounding presence.

And it’s that quiet patience, that unwavering understanding, that finally makes the words spill out.

“It’s just…” Ningning exhales sharply, setting down her chopsticks. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m trying so hard, but something isn’t clicking. And with the comeback so close, I—I don’t want to let anyone down.”

Y/N listens, truly listens, nodding softly as she talks. When she pauses, they reach for her hand, their fingers lacing together with quiet certainty.

“You’re working so hard, Ning,” they say gently. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. But you’re incredible. You always give your best. And I promise you, that’s enough.”

Ningning’s lips press together. “But what if it’s not?”

“It is,” Y/N insists, squeezing her hand just a little tighter. “You don’t see yourself the way I do. Or the way your fans do. You light up every stage you step onto, Ning. Even when you’re struggling, you still shine.”

Ningning’s chest tightens, the emotions of the day catching up to her all at once. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to hear those words until now.

After dinner, Y/N stands, tugging her gently toward the couch.

“Come here,” they whisper.

She follows without hesitation, sinking into the cushions as Y/N carefully wraps a thick, plush blanket around her. And then Y/N is there—arms encircling her, pulling her close.

Ningning exhales shakily, letting herself melt into the embrace. The weight of the day clings to her, but Y/N’s warmth slowly begins to chip away at it.

“You know,” Y/N murmurs, their fingers trailing through her hair in slow, soothing strokes, “you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

Ningning closes her eyes. “I know… I just—I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“You never disappoint anyone,” Y/N whispers. “You give so much of yourself to everyone around you. But even if you don’t feel perfect, your best is always enough. You are enough.”

A lump forms in Ningning’s throat. Her grip tightens on Y/N’s hoodie as a quiet sniffle escapes her. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that. To feel this.

“Maybe,” Y/N continues, their voice barely above a whisper, “you just need to rest. To let yourself breathe. You’re not a machine, love. You’re human.”

The words settle deep into Ningning’s chest, warm and reassuring. She lets herself sink further into Y/N’s arms, the rhythmic strokes of their fingers through her hair slowly unraveling the tension in her body.

A few moments pass in silence, save for the soft hum of the music playing in the background. Y/N’s touch is hypnotic, their presence an anchor. The weight she’s been carrying for weeks doesn’t feel quite as unbearable anymore.

She stays like that, wrapped in Y/N’s warmth, in their quiet understanding, until exhaustion pulls her under. But before sleep claims her, she tilts her head slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you,” she murmurs, the words thick with emotion.

Y/N smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too,” they whisper back, holding her just a little tighter.

And as she drifts into sleep, safe and cherished, Ningning finally feels at peace

The Realization

The next morning, Ningning arrives at practice still groggy from exhaustion. She expects another long, grueling day, but as soon as she steps into the studio, her members greet her with mischievous smiles.

“Happy anniversary to both of you Ning!” Karina grins, nudging her playfully.

Her heart stops.

Giselle smirks. “Y/N’s so sweet. What did they do for you last night?”

And that’s when it hits her like a ton of bricks.

She forgot.

Her chest tightens. Y/N never said anything, never even hinted that they were disappointed. Instead, they had spent the entire evening comforting her, making her feel loved, even when she had completely overlooked their special day.

She feels awful.

Her members burst into laughter at the look of pure horror on her face.

“Oh my god,” she breathes. “I forgot.”

Karina pats her back. “Better make it up to her, then.”

And Ningning is already pulling out her phone, her mind racing.

She needs to fix this. And she needs to make it perfect.

The Grand Gesture

That evening, Y/N is exhausted from work, completely unaware of Ningning’s plan. They step out of the building, stretching their stiff shoulders, when suddenly—

A sleek, familiar car pulls up right in front of them.

The window rolls down, and Ningning leans out with a playful smirk.

“Need a ride?”

Y/N blinks in surprise. “Ning? What are you—”

“Just get in.”

Y/N hesitates for only a second before climbing into the passenger seat. The moment they buckle in, Ningning takes their hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice soft but filled with emotion. “I completely forgot our anniversary, and you didn’t even say anything. You just—you just took care of me. You always do.”

Y/N squeezes her hand. “You were exhausted, love. I didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

Ningning’s chest tightens. “That’s exactly why I don’t deserve you.”

Y/N frowns. “Hey—”

“But,” Ningning interrupts, flashing a small smile, “I plan to make it up to you.”

She pulls into a quiet, private restaurant, the kind of place hidden away from prying eyes. The staff greets them warmly, leading them to a secluded table with a breathtaking city view. Soft candlelight flickers around them, and the air is filled with the gentle hum of classical music.

Y/N looks around in amazement. “Ning, this is…”

“A surprise.” Ningning grins. “A way to say thank you. And to remind you how much I love you.”

Y/N feels a lump form in their throat.

As the night goes on, they talk, laugh, and reminisce about their favorite memories together. Ningning watches the way Y/N’s eyes sparkle when they smile, the way their laughter fills the space between them, and she feels so unbelievably lucky.

As dessert arrives, Ningning takes Y/N’s hands in hers, her voice turning serious.

“You’re always there for me,” she murmurs. “Even when I don’t deserve it. Even when I’m selfish and caught up in my own world, you never make me feel bad about it. You just love me.”

Y/N shakes their head, their eyes soft. “You do deserve it, Ning. And you’re never selfish. I know how much pressure you’re under.”

Ningning bites her lip, looking down at their joined hands. “Still… I don’t ever want you to feel like I take you for granted. Because I don’t. I love you. So much.”

Y/N smiles, squeezing her hands. “I know. And I love you too.”

Ningning exhales, relief washing over her.

By the time they leave, the night air is cool, but Ningning feels warm inside. She pulls Y/N into a tight hug, burying her face in their shoulder.

“Thank you for loving me,” she whispers.

Y/N kisses the top of her head. “Always.”

And as they stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the city lights, Ningning knows—this, this is what truly matters.

Their love.

Their home in each other.

And nothing else in the world comes close.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hiiii, can you please write something where both the hero and villain are extremely touch starved and they are in some forced proximity situation where they are close together and they both just cling to each other! I love your writing!

“…well?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” the villain mumbled, looking from left to right in the tiny supply closet, their back pressed against the shelf.

There was no room for movement, especially with someone like the hero right in front of them. They supposed there were downsides to being as fit as their nemesis.

“I didn’t expect us to get locked in…” The hero didn’t meet the villain’s eyes and the villain averted their eyes just as quickly. The villain didn’t want to think about it.

They didn’t want to think about the fact that they were chest to chest with their nemesis. That they basically couldn’t move in the slightest; not to the right, nor to the left. They couldn’t turn, they couldn’t switch positions - nothing.

The villain wasn’t claustrophobic and they didn’t think the hero was either. It wasn’t about the space per se, the villain assumed. It was about that one person, that one annoying person being this close. The villain took in a deep breath which pressed them even closer against the hero.

“Is this a prank?”

“Yeah, I guess. Someone must’ve seen us. Sidekicks can be a little mean. I just wanted to talk in private, I didn’t know it would be this…difficult in here.” The hero moved slightly - putting their hand on the shelf behind the villain - and the villain wanted to curse. “The door is definitely locked, I guess we’ll have to wait for now.”

They paused.

“So…uh…what exactly are you doing here?”

“I was asked to come here for negotiations,” the villain said. Their cheeks were burning. If the hero moved again like that, they’d both face a few problems within the next seconds.

“Oh, that explains the nice outfit,” the hero said. They could feel the hero’s warm breath on their neck. Christ.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” the villain asked suddenly. They couldn’t look at the hero and the hero wasn’t looking at them either.

At least they had undeniable awkwardness in common. How charming.

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the villain said. “We haven’t fought in a while.”

“Uh…We can start arguing if you want to..?” The hero moved again and the villain’s head started reeling when they realised how good the hero smelled. Had they ever been this close before? Close enough that the villain could notice that?

With the villain’s thigh basically between the hero’s thighs because of the space?

God, their hearts weren’t that much apart now, were they? What an awful thought.

“I’d like to avoid that, I just mean that I haven’t seen you around much. You’re not plotting my downfall, are you?”

“Unfortunately not, I’ve been busy in the office. Pretty tiring.” Yeah, right. As if someone as important and useful as the hero was being chained to a desk. A secret mission, maybe? “But negotiations, huh? You’re switching sides now?”

“Just some formal stuff,” the villain lied.

“Ah, cool.”

Both of them knew they were being lied to. And both were fully aware that the other was aware of it too. No escape. The villain feared they could only pray.

“I’m not avoiding you,” the hero said, whispered almost.

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know if it came across properly.” Came across properly? The villain took in a tiny breath. It would have been very easy to lean against the hero and start melting.

“It came across, don’t worry.” It would have been very easy to lean against the hero’s neck. To touch their waist. “For how long do sidekicks imprison other people?”

“Uh…like 30 minutes.”

“Dear God.”

They were freed 20 minutes later, but the villain was pretty sure they’d been closer to hell than heaven.

For the next few weeks neither the hero nor the villain could look each other in the eyes when they were supposed to be fighting.

[yourfavhasfrontfacingeyes]

out of the current systems that refuse to leave my brain, the one that I’d most recommend for what you’re looking for is Eidolon: Become Your Best Self Second Edition. It’s preeeeetty heavily inspired by JJBA and Persona in that every character has a unique power that’s a Little Guy, and each one has a madlib-esque powerline to fill in. They also tend to have some naming scheme. It’s usually songs (again, JJBA).

As for the mechanics, instead of using dice rolls for checks it instead uses draws from a deck of tarot cards; depending on what you draw, there’s a different forecast: The High Priestess is “the supernatural moves through you”, The Moon is “something unknown or unknowable interferes”, and The World is “for a single moment, the world bends to your will”. There is the same system for all of uptime/downtime, and both can shift into combat without changing the fundamentals of how play works!

In any case, if you’d like to see it in action, the creators of it run an actual play podcast to test it out while also telling some of the most interesting stories I have ever seen told on a podcast of that medium. I’d highly recommend listening to the DISCO/SKA season of Eidolon Playtest, but if you’d like a more bite-sized peek into it, try one of the miniseries: I personally think that AGAINST, MONTREAL, or ÖYSTER all work as potential starting points.

Anyway enjoy :))) I’m very normal about this system if you can’t tell. Feel free to DM me if you want to know more!! Please!!!!

i need to play an actually good ttrpg cause i was very hooked into dnd being this fun character play but it sucks at facilitating roleplay and i don't feel like a character when doing combat. like maybe i need to do a ttrpg that is just mechanically fun to play because dnd feels kind of stiff.

[honeytonedhottie]

hiii honey!!

throughout pretty much my whole childhood, i’ve been very disconnected from my femininity. and now i’m seventeen, i really do want to be “womanly”? but i really don’t know where to start. wit selfcare, makeup, hair, how to have a womanly body, clothes and how to act. with everything basically. i feel like i’m so behind from every other girl my age and i don’t know if i can ever catch up. do u have any advice ??

heyy angel, i dont want you to worry about feeling behind because femininity is not a race. so dont beat yourself up about it, give yourself grace and space to become the womanly woman that you wanna be 💞 so first and foremost lets start with the basics...

identify the woman you wanna become - how do you wanna act, be perceived, dress, look, smell ETC. be as specific as you want but you wanna have an outline so you know what u want and where to start.

self care - the basics of self care i'd say are skincare, bodycare, and being active. if u already have a skincare and bodycare routine thats great! if u already have a workout regimen thats fantastic! thats like the first layer of a cake, and the frosting would be learning how to do your hair, makeup, and doll yourself up in a way that accentuates ur beauty and makes you more confident by bringing out ur features more.

makeup - ease into it (a little concealer, blush, mascara and gloss) utilize youtube cuz they have so many tutorials and guides.

self pampering - to kinda piggy back off of my second point, a big part of femininity (at least to me) is pampering myself a LOT. beauty rituals and routines that i do for myself to show myself that i love myself. just, going the extra mile for your body and soul.

and thats all i really have to say on the topic. i didn't rly touch on the "how to act" part because thats so personal yk? you kind of have to define femininity for yourself and embody that because thats how its the most authentic. 🌟

[cosmowgyral]

"Once again, the Evil that cannot be Undone: Tonight you will fall for me"

▪︎ William and Nica

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

Even though it says William and Nica, the first chapter solely comprises of William and the second chapter that of Nica. So it's almost like any other story event but technically with two less chapters for a suitor. Cybird got us good. :/

Chapter 1

I turned off the lights and got into bed, but I just couldn’t sleep.

(….I wonder whether my anxiety is keeping me wide awake.)

Even though I knew it would be better for me to rest, I quietly slipped out of bed.

The inside of the quiet and deserted castle feels strangely comfortable.

As I walk lightly, a faint melody reaches my ears.

Drawn by the sound of piano, I arrived at the great hall.

William: You’re up late, robin.

William noticing my presence stopped playing the piano.

Kate: Yes. I couldn’t sleep for some reason.

William: I see. …..You look a bit relaxed tonight.

I realized it when he pointed out.

The reason why Crown Castle was so comfortable at night with no one around…

Kate: That might be because, well…

Kate: At night, I can be alone in the castle, so maybe that’s why I feel more at ease.

William: ……..

William neither confirmed nor denied it, just stared at me quietly, waiting for me to continue.

(….I feel like I can tell William about my feelings.)

Kate: …..Ever since I lost my memories, everyone has been so nice to me.

Kate: It’s just…I feel like you’re all seeing my lost memories through me.

Kate: So that’s why……

In the end, the feelings I couldn’t put into words were taken up by William.

William: Is it painful for you to receive kindness directed towards your ‘past self’?

It’s arrogant to think that it’s difficult to accept others’ kindness.

Moreover, it is quite outrageous to make such an opulent complaint to someone.

But even so, I could hide nothing in front of William and the words slipped out of my mouth.

Kate: …The reason why everyone is being nice to me is because they were friends with me in the past.

Kate: Now that I don’t know if I can ever regain my memories, it’s difficult for me to accept their kindness.

Kate: Even though everyone’s been so good to me, what’ll happen if I can’t get back the ‘me’ from the past?

(So...at night, when I was finally alone at Crown Castle, I could relax.)

(At this moment, I wonder if anyone will feel sad and pity me for losing my memories.)

After hearing my confession, William lowered his eyes and seemed to contemplate on something.

But that was only for a moment—and then he sat down at the piano again and placed his hands on the keys.

William: Kate, I’m going to play three songs now.

William: Once you’ve finished listening, I’ll ask you to rank them in order of your preference. So listen carefully.

---The sound of William playing the piano echoes through Crown castle at night.

Some songs are as whimsical as a cat running around in an alleyway.

And then there are songs that are graceful and slow, like a fish swimming leisurely.

Kate: Every song was amazing!

Kate: But if I had to order them….I would say the third, then the first and then second.

William: That order is the same as the one you said before.

Kate: My past self…?

William: Yes. Even if you lose your memories, the fundamental part of you doesn’t change.

William: Kate is still Kate.

William: There is no need to feel sorry or intimidated by the kindness of those around you.

William: They are all directed at one person, you.

Kate: ……Thank you, William.

It's possible that I won't be able to recollect my memories and enjoy them with you all.

But I finally feel like I’m happy to be here…..

Kate: If it’s not too much trouble, could you please play one more song?

Kate: I just wanted to hear you play the piano a little longer.

I wonder why I feel a bit strange today.

The old me would never have asked someone to play for me in the middle of the night like this.

William didn’t seem to feel offended by my selfishness.

Instead, he smiled happily and placed his hands on the keyboard.

William: What would you like to listen to?

…..

Kate: That was a wonderful performance! Thank you very much.

William: As a token of appreciation for playing, would you answer one question of mine?

Kate: ….? Of course, please go ahead.

William: Why are you here in the hall?

The reason I came here was simple-- because I heard the sound of piano.

But—just as I was about to answer that, I fell silent.

Because that answer is directly denied by the anxiety that has been consuming my thoughts up until this point.

 (I…liked the castle at night, when I could be alone.)

(So why did I come here knowing that William was playing the piano?)

(If I had wished to be alone, I should have gotten away from the sound of piano.)

After thinking about it, I came up with an answer.

Kate: You didn’t show a sad expression when you looked at me……

Kate: I came here because I thought I could easily approach you.

William: ….I see. So that’s your reason.

William: I am honoured to be a comfortable perch for the robin.

Kate: William, were you not on good terms with me before I lost my memory?

William: No, not at all. I think we were good friends.

Kate: If that’s the case, then why…….

How is it that even though I’ve lost my memory, he can still act as usual?

It seems he understood the question I had in mind.

William: The reason I don’t feel sad or sorry for you even though you have lost your memories is simple.

William: Because I’m certain.

William: If you were to make the same choice again….

Captivated by William’s powerful gaze and words, I momentarily forgot to breathe.

Although he said nothing, I felt as if I could hear a voice coming from the other side of the darkness.

‘Choose me’, William's voice said.

[Chapter 2] [Masterlist]

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

pez dispenser debris for the fic ask thing? 👀

As much as this is my “kill no darlings you will get EVERY flashback” fic, there’s overarching sociopolitical backstory explaining why Izuku and the rest of class 3A exploded in the public eye that I don’t think I’ll ever fully fit in.

It’s a combination of it being more of a meta analysis than anything and also requiring information from a perspective that I know will never appear in the fic. Like, the fic still gets the different moments that make up this analysis, but there’s no explicit connecting thread to show how they all locked together to create this sort of global cult following of class 3-A. I almost put in a little fake news article opinion piece that was meant to sort of walk the reader through why society is Like This, but I decided it was too heavy handed and deleted it.

Everything that I’m going to reference has already appeared in pez dispenser debris to some degree, and none of it will ever actually materially impact the plot. They may receive a little more detail down the line if they’re mentioned in passing in the fic, so out of an abundance of caution, I’ll stick it below the cut so people can avoid this, but I don’t personally consider any of this spoilers.

Izuku and the rest of the class are famous in pez dispenser debris in a way that’s pretty much unprecedented for students. Canonically, not even all might had a name for himself until after his graduation. Pretty much everyone from class 3A are public figures, with Izuku specifically being considered a major global figure.

In my mind, there was this perfect storm right during their second year that catapulted them into fame. The class personally has varying levels of awareness of why they got so popular, but there was this perfect cross winds of societal unrest and fear that made them household names.

There was an approximately one month span in their second year where they were just hit one after another with a major firestorms of events: The UA Sports Festival, the Sidekick Strike, and the Tartarus Prison Break/Desertion of Yokohama.

The UA Sports Festival is the one that the kids attribute this most to, because so many of the news articles that followed referenced their performance in it. But it probably gave them less mileage than what the other two events did.

What the UA Sports Festival did was showcase their skills to the world in a venue designed to show them off. The public was already on edge. All Might had retired, crime rates kept going up, and people were rapidly losing confidence in existing heroes. Class 2A made such an insane showing of skill in the second Sports Festival that it made the public rave about them for weeks after. It was extremely reassuring to Japan that they had such powerful heroes in the barrel and would soon be on the streets. But that attention probably would have died down had it not been for the Sidekick Strike and Yokohama.

The Sidekick Strike actually had nothing to do with them. But it undermined the public’s faith in heroes at just the right time.

The Sidekick Strike is just one of those things that I have no POV that would even tangentially be involved in it so we’ll get a few passing references in media clips and it’ll never be discussed in depth. Which is a shame because it’s such an interesting conflict to me.

The Sidekick Strike was heavily inspired by the 1919 Boston Police Strike. Effectively, it was the height of the labor rights movement, and police officers got together and went on strike to get the police union recognized. They had tried to negotiate and negotiations failed, and so they all walked off the job. The city descended into lawlessness, the national guard was deployed, it was a whole thing. Famously, Calvin Coolidge fired the entire police force over it on the grounds that there was no striking from public safety.

I thought it would be really interesting if there was something similar that happened with the sidekicks. The thing is that the heroics structure as it stands really incentivizes abuse towards sidekicks. We have a society where there’s a decent amount of heroes who are only in it for the fame. A not insignificant amount of money must come from marketing deals. And it’s a ranked system, so they’re all in competition with each other.

Heroes wouldn’t be incentivized to showcase their sidekicks—they’d be incentivized to take advantage of them and take credit for their work.

Like, think about the work-study experiences. Momo didn’t even officially work for the hero she studied with. She wasn’t getting paid. An adult woman used her for a shampoo ad. Who wants to bet whether Momo saw a dime from it? It’s probably very predatory because the nature of the system incentivizes predation.

I thought the underlying legal issues would be interesting and complex. Who owns a sidekick’s image—the agency or the individual? Who gets the proceeds of their brand deals? This all would be governed by their employment contracts, and sidekicks just starting out have very little leverage compared to big name heroes. And those heroes would want to keep their sidekicks names small and theirs big. The rankings are competitive, after all.

It’s a situation where I do think that like. The sidekicks would have a point in unionizing. The use of their image, appropriate compensation, and proper credit for their busts would all be like, very legitimate concerns in a normal employment context.

I see agencies like Idaten settling immediately with the union and having their sidekicks back on the street before the day is out. In my mind, idaten is considered the gold standard for sidekick jobs already, and their employees mostly did it out of solidarity with the people they worked alongside of. Like, Idaten was already doing most of the union’s demands and signed off very quickly on the remaining ones. If it was just about the Idaten sidekicks, none of them would have gone on strike, but they had a lot of colleagues who they depended on in the field who were in terrible situations. What were they gonna say, sorry, sucks to be you, I got a great gig though so condolences? These were the people keeping them alive. They went on strike because they knew Idaten would publicly settle before the day was out and set an example for the rest of the agencies. Hopefully it would help other agencies follow their lead.

But that didn’t happen. Some agencies, like Endeavor’s, fired everyone immediately. And I think a lot of agencies spent a long time picking over every line item in prolonged negotiations. It dragged out.

And that went over fucking terribly.

All Might just retired. Crime is up. And their sworn defenders are bickering over who gets what cut of the action figure line. Like I think the public would have fucking hated this in a post-All Might world. It would have seemed like the only real hero just medically and irreversibly retired and the rest of them are squabbling about whose turn it is in the spotlight.

I also think that the villains would have taken advantage of it.

The Tartarus Prison Break in pez isn’t the one that happened in canon. Here, the League of Villains attacked Tartarus and set everyone loose. In the process, they made a very clear stance: they are going to leave with All for One, and they are not going to attack any civilians. They won’t fight at all unless attacked first.

All of the horrible and sadistic villains they just let go have not made the same promise.

They chose to do this now because of the Sidekick Strike. All their heroes don’t give a fuck about protecting them, so they’re strapped for staffing. So they’re taking back their leader and going back to ground, and the heroes are free to immediately go after and contain all those bad bad villains who just escaped. And those guys are headed to the heavily populated mainland, so better be quick.

The whole world knew that was their explicit reasoning and promise. Because Himiko fucking lived tweeted the escape.

The Sidekick Strike took the hit for a lot of the blame, but I do see all the sidekicks breaking strike lines to go respond to the crisis. But response times were severely handicapped by the fact that most if not all of them were cut off from their agencies. It was just a complete systemic breakdown.

And then there became the question of what crisis do you respond to: All for One’s escape, or everyone else’s?

I mentioned in one of the little fake tumblr posts that the Tartarus Prison Break was seen as Endeavor’s greatest failure. And part of that is because he chose to sacrifice the nearby area, Yokohama, to contain All for One.

I am one of the biggest haters of Endeavor’s later arc, specifically because it required going back on the nature of the abuse he had subjected his family to that was already established in canon, but that’s a different rant. This is not canon endeavor. I hate what they did with canon endeavor.

That being said, I do think that the self doubt weighed on him once he became number one. And this was the moment of his career where it really crushed him.

All for One had escaped. So had every other villain from Tartarus. He should go after the most immediate threats. He knew this. It was basic triage.

But they would never have a better chance to stop All for One.

Prisoners in Tartarus aren’t exactly hitting all their macros and micros or training daily. They are not adherents to the Bakugou Katsuki Fitness Lifestyle. All for One was coming off spending the last few months drugged up to his eyeballs and strapped to a chair in a straitjacket with at least fifty guns pointed at him at all times. The man has not scratched his own nose in weeks. He’s weaker now than he’ll ever be again.

It was their best chance.

If he escaped, and he went back to ground, he’d have the time and space to get as strong as he wanted, and then he’d come back for real. And he’d be coming back for everything.

Stopping him the first time had cost them All Might.

And Endeavor simply was not All Might. And he still wouldn’t be All Might when the next fight came.

It really was the hardest decision of Endeavor’s life. He had to admit to himself that his own inadequacy was going to cost them countless lives. But he thought it was a hard decision he had to make. He was losing the battle for the barest chance at winning the war.

So he made the call that all heroes were to respond to All for One. They had to hit the league of villains now with their full force if they were to stand a chance. They could not afford to divide their already sparse forces. They’d respond to Yokohama when AfO was contained.

He was also the one who made the call to broadcast the warning message that we hear in the Twitter post. He thought it would give civilians their best chance. He didn’t want them to act with the expectation of the heroes being en route.

Of course, that meant that the entire city got fucking sirens going off and a message telling them that the heroes were not going to save them. Which, as you can expect, did not do a lot for public morale.

In my head, Tartarus is like, the equivalent to Gotham’s Arkham. It’s borderline an institute for the criminally insane. You don’t end up there unless you did something super fucked, are super dangerous, and have extreme violent tendencies. It’s exclusively for the most dangerous and indiscriminately violent criminals in the country.

The entire world was watching in real time while the tragedy unfolded. A lot of people were livestreaming after the emergency broadcast dropped, because they didn’t want the government to be able to handwave away how terrible their death was, or because they didn’t know what else to do, or because they just didn’t want to be alone. The full expectation was that it’d be a massacre.

But it wasn’t. Because Class 2-A responded instead.

The Class 2-A defensive efforts were discussed in one of the silly little fake tumblr posts and in the fake twitter post. In those, we find out that 1) Class 2-A, along with Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire responded to the scene; 2) the entire class rolled out of Mirio’s fucking mom van and tamaki and nejire’s cars like they were fucking clown cars; 3) the HPSC claimed it was a legitimate operation blessed and coordinated by them; and 4) a lot of people think this was a lie, in part because videos leaked of Aizawa bitching them all out in the street afterwards. We also see Izuku’s green lightning at the end of the twitter video, showing him responding to the scene just as the first villains hit the mainland.

This fight has a lot of names in the backstory that lives in my head. It’s called the Tartarus Prison Break for obvious reasons. It’s also been called in some circles the Desertion of Yokohama, because of the call Endeavor made.

But it’s also called the Battle of Yokohoma. And it’s ranked alongside the Battle of Kamino as one of the finest acts of modern day heroics. And that’s because of Class 2-A. If it hadn’t been for them showing up, it would have gone down in history as the Massacre of Yokohama.

Like. It kills me that I can’t include the full details of what happened, but there’s just too much to make in a flashback. It’s a fic in and of itself. But it really was the fight that made Class 2-A.

It was the first fight where they were really the only heroes that could be counted on. Granted, they’d had to fight for their lives alone, but this wasn’t just their lives. These were thousands of terrified civilians who all thought they were going to die.

It was the first true test of them as heroes in the world. And they actually rose to the occasion. They didn’t just fight the villains—they realized that they needed to get emergency services working throughout the city if everyone was going to make it. Momo and Tsuyu conducted a mildly hostile take over of the emergency call center so they could coordinate relief. They had fucking Tokoyami and Dark Shadow single-handedly holding the line on the hospital while Kaminari, Shoji, Jiro, and Sato all learned to drive for the Very First Time while commandeering the city’s fucking ambulances. They were fighting and containing villains, performing emergency aid, putting out literal fires, everything. It was the hardest fight of their lives.

There was a hot second where Class 2-A was The Moment. Like. The entire world was watching them during this fight, and they had no fucking idea until it was over. People lost their minds when the first footage made it out of Yokohama of a bunch of teenagers showing up and immediately throwing hands with S-Class villains.

It was global news. Think of the kind of media attention that was received by the search for the Titan, the Tham Luang Cave Rescue, the Suez Canal getting blocked by the Ever Given (rip queen you will always be famous to me), that kind of thing. Class 2-A was fighting for their fucking lives and then found out three days later while they were all still in the hospital that there was a prayer vigil going on in Portugal for them during the battle and CNN had 24 hours live coverage of the fight that had so many viewers it outnumbered the population of Finland. Like what do you even do with that information.

The world expected a massacre. They didn’t expect a bunch of footage of high schoolers kicking the shit out of superpowered murders and personally ferrying the injured to the hospitals they were also defending.

The other part about this fight that really made them permanently part of the public consciousness is that it was not lost on everyone that every single person who responded to that fight did so at the risk of their license.

All of them had provisional licenses, save Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire, all of whom went AWOL from the explicit directives ordering them to respond to the fight against All for One. The operation could not have been less authorized. They had to steal their gear and jimmy the UA fence to even get out. The explicit plan was to steal one of the UA buses and have Bakugou fucking drive them to the fight (he also did not know how to drive but he seemed the most likely of them to break literally every single motor vehicle code to get them there but still be naturally talented at it enough to not kill them) but Izuku told Mirio what bullshit they were up to and Mirio, who was with Tamaki and Nejire when the news broke, immediately decided he would be on that bullshit too and pulled up in his mom van.

In my mind, there were strict rules around provisional licenses and how they could be used, and they broke pretty much all of them to respond to Yokohama. It would have been grounds to revoke their provisionals and permanently bar them from heroics. Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire could have all lost their licenses for helping them and for going AWOL.

The HPSC fucking fell over themselves to legitimatize the entire operation. They knew they were utterly fucked if they didn’t. These kids already had murals being painted of their faces in other fucking countries. There was a little old lady in Kyoto livestreaming herself working overtime to embroider Iida’s face onto a cushion because that lovely young man saved her darling granddaughter from *checks notes* horrible and painful death directly caused by the failings of the current HPSC administration. There were multiple trending posts online agreeing to fucking riot if those kids got in trouble for this.

Every single actual hero in the immediate vicinity of this disaster had responded to fight a villain who wasn’t actually attacking anyone. And then they fucking lost. They publicly broadcast a message saying Good Luck Champs Because We’re Not Going To Save You. It was an actual PR nightmare that they had a bare chance of salvaging if they just latched onto these kids like an aggressive parasite and that is exactly what they did.

They totally knew. Actually, it was a joint operation coordinated by and between UA and and the HPSC. Why would the kids be in trouble?? They had responded because the HPSC told them to.

UA gave it a week of dead silence and then issued a short statement praising the bravery of their students in a recent HPSC approved mission, and then they never said another word about it. They didn’t have any choice but to go along with the HPSC’s story. If they contradicted them, all of class 2-a would find their licenses pulled by the end of the day, and lord knows they wouldn’t wait for the court of public opinion to work its magic and would just all go out and become fucking vigilantes, because why not. Aizawa has aged 100 years since he got this class. Every single day he thinks of how it was a 50/50 shot between him and Vlad.

No one in the class is fully aware of just how famous they were in the immediate aftermath, because the school bent over backwards to try and shield them from it as much as possible. Like, they have an idea, but none of them saw the full explosion firsthand because of just how hard the school worked to keep it from them. Aizawa confiscated the internet router and told them it was punishment for whatever the fuck they did to the buses (thank god Mirio was just as crazy as them because they were NOT GOOD at hotwiring cars) but really it was to try and insulate them from it a little bit. Like. Japan’s Imperial Family wanted to do an official visit. The White House offered to host them. They received interview requests from every major talk show on the planet. Buzzfeed wanted to do a puppy interview with them.

Right now, Aizawa’s terrified for Midoriya’s graduation, but in the aftermath of that, he was breathing into a paper bag about all of them. Society had sort of latched onto them like they were the last life raft on the titanic. All for One was back, and All Might wasn’t, and the heroes had publicly broadcast a message saying they were useless, but don’t fucking worry, fifteen year old Iida Tenya is on the case. Society will be upheld by Kaminari Denki, currently viral for driving a real life city ambulance one hundred miles per hour down the street while screaming “WEE WOO BITCH.” And don’t forget the pillar that will be Mina Ashido, who rushed over to him earlier that day to show him her extra sparkly pink nails. And if you have a major fight that needs to be won? Don’t fucking worry, just send out bone-breaking boy wonder Midoriya Izuku and his equally reckless brother Toogata Mirio, because their dumbasses managed to take down an S-Class villain team that only All Might could defeat the first time around. Don’t worry about the multi week hospitalization they needed after, because that’s an acceptable burden to put on children.

When Aizawa started this job, he promised himself he would never send a student out to die. Some of them would die. But it would be tragedy, not damnation. He’d have given them their best chance. Part of the reason why he made that promise was because he sort of felt like his teacher sent him out set up to die, and it’s only luck that he made it through his first couple of years.

He has gone to the funeral of every single student he has ever had who did not make it. He goes back to their graves every year.

He was fucking petrified after Yokohama that society would push these kids too far too soon. Every single one of his classes before them had gotten the benefit of being practically unknown their first few years. They didn’t have the world talking about them like they were already the top heroes. He was terrified they wouldn’t have the space to learn and grow when they started.

A lot of teachers would have tried to mine the notoriety of Yokohama to hard launch their students’ careers. Aizawa told Nedzu point blank that he would quit tomorrow if he did not help him quash this thing as much as possible, and nedzu agreed.

This world killed its real heroes. It sucked them dry and left them like All Might, and he just needed fucking time. He needed fucking time to let them be kids and maybe they’d survive.

Izuku ended up being the one who escaped the aftermath of everything the least. His Quirk was too much like All Might’s for the world to let go of him easily.

And then Stain got fucking dogpiled by idaten in the aftermath of the Tartarus prison break and implied he considered Izuku the only true hero in the absence of all might and everyone started asking super inconvenient questions like “how does stain even know you exist” and “no really he called you by your actual legal name how does he even know that” and it just. It didn’t help things. Izuku’s suffering.

So yeah. There was just this absolute collision of a total lack of faith in current heroes combined with a huge swell of public trust in class 2-a that led us to being in the landscape we are now. All of the currently licensed heroes said that they wouldn’t be there to save the public, and then Class 2-A immediately hit back that they would be there. Actually, they’ll risk everything to be there. They’ll die to protect the public and they’ll risk the entire future they had been trying to build and they will fucking be there to save them.

There’s a lot of people that never forgave the heroes for deserting Yokohama. And there’s even more people who have absolute faith in Izuku and his classmates because they didn’t. That’s why the world is watching them so aggressively. These kids are the most trusted heroes in Japan right now.

I wish I could fit in more about what happened, because I love this backstory so much, but 1) some of it absolutely requires POVs like Endeavors, which we won’t get in pez dispenser debris, 2) there’s no one POV that could tell the full story via flashback and 3) it’d just be too long of a divergence. Like. It really is a whole fic of its own. I’d love to write it one day but I probably won’t have the time

[phoenixblaze1412]

So glad to see a Dottore writer! Can I ask for dottore and the segments with a reader who oversleeps a lot? someone who sleeps like 12-14 hours. sleepiest guy ever.

The first time Dottore realized how much you overslept, he assumed it was a one-time occurrence. A simple exhaustion, nothing more. But as time passed, it became glaringly obvious.

You were, without a doubt, the sleepiest person in all of Snezhnaya.

Twelve to fourteen hours of sleep a day? Completely normal for you.

Nodding off mid-experiment? A weekly event.

Disappearing for "just a quick nap" and waking up the next morning? Routine.

Dottore, of course, found it both fascinating and mildly concerning. As a scientist, he initially considered analyzing your sleep patterns, wondering if some neurological anomaly was at play.

But after repeated tests revealed nothing unusual besides an innate talent for sleeping anywhere, anytime. He resigned himself to the reality that you were simply like this. The segments, however, all had their own ways of dealing with your chronic drowsiness.

Alpha: The Most Responsible (and Slightly Annoyed)

Alpha took it upon himself to try and keep you on schedule. Emphasis on try as Theta would say. He’d knock on your door in the mornings with an exasperated sigh, already expecting no response.

“Wake up. It’s nearly noon.”

Silence.

Alpha knocked again, harder. “I’m not asking.”

Still nothing.

By the third attempt, he simply resorted to dragging your blanket off the bed, knowing it was the only thing that might stir you.

It didn’t.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose before calling for the others. “We need backup.”

Theta: The Chaos Enabler

Theta found your sleepiness hilarious. Unlike Alpha, he wasn’t interested in fixing your sleep schedule—he was interested in seeing just how deep your slumber truly was.

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to wake up if I draw on their face?” he asked Zeta one morning.

Zeta, ever composed, sighed. “That’s childish.”

Theta grinned. “You’re right. We should stack things on them instead.”

Dottore eventually had to ban “experiments” involving your unconscious body when he walked in to find a precariously balanced tower of books, vials, and a very confused laboratory rat resting on your back while you continued to sleep peacefully.

Zeta: The Quiet Observer

Zeta didn’t interfere much with your sleeping habits, but he did take note of how it affected your well-being. If you had trouble focusing after waking up or if you seemed groggy for too long, he would wordlessly hand you a strong cup of tea and remind you to pace yourself.

“You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you stumbled into the lab, hair still a mess from sleep. “Just be awake enough not to mix volatile chemicals incorrectly.”

That had happened once. Just once. And no one wanted a repeat of it.

Epsilon: The Concerned One

Unlike the others, Epsilon actually worried about your excessive sleeping. “Maybe it’s a deficiency,” he suggested one day. “Or an underlying illness. We should run more tests.”

Dottore hummed in consideration before glancing at you, drooling on your desk in the middle of a meeting. “…Or they could just be lazy.”

Epsilon frowned. “I don’t think laziness explains this level of unconsciousness.”

Dottore chuckled. “No, but watching the others struggle to wake them up is entertaining.”

Dottore: The Only One Who Can Wake You Instantly

Despite all the segments’ attempts, there was only one undeniable fact: when Dottore himself called your name, you woke up immediately.

Whether it was fear, respect, or some kind of Pavlovian response, no one knew.

Theta once tested this theory by mimicking Dottore’s tone and cadence. It failed miserably.

You slept through it.

But the moment the real Dottore leaned over your bed and murmured, “If you don’t wake up in the next ten seconds, I’m increasing your workload,” your eyes snapped open instantly.

Dottore smirked. “Fascinating.”

The others groaned. “That’s not fair.”

[pascaloverx]

MINE

Summary: You are a journalist working for a modest newspaper, and for several years, you have been in a relationship with Friedrich Harding—a man of inherited wealth who is now embarking on a new venture in real estate renovations. One day, you are assigned to cover the story of a man known as Count Orlok, just as Friedrich is hired to renovate the Count's mansion.

Author's Note: This fanfic takes place in the Nosferatu universe but with several changes. First, it is set in the modern world. Second, instead of the reader being involved with Thomas Hutter, she is with Friedrich Harding. I’m not sure if I will continue the fanfic, so if you enjoy it, please interact and leave a comment. If not, my apologies.

preview

ONE

You are irritated as you struggle with your luggage. First, Count Orlok demanded a specific type of attire for your stay at his mansion. But then it got worse. Friedrich decided it would be wise to accept the condition of presenting himself as an unmarried man.

You have been together for a long time—you never wanted to force him into marriage. You are not even sure if you would want to marry at all. But now, you are about to stay in the home of a Count, where you must wear strange clothing and pretend not to know each other.

"It was a long journey; I won’t be able to endure your indifference, my fair lady," Friedrich says as you both step out of the airport, preparing to wait for Count Orlok’s driver or personal attendant.

"Forgive me, sir, but I cannot interact with a stranger," you say, making an effort not to look directly at Friedrich. How can he so easily pretend there is nothing between you?

"Is it unusual that we must pretend not to be together? Yes. But this contract with Count Orlok is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And if we are willing to wear antiquated clothing as if we had stepped into the last century, then pretending to be apart seems a small price to pay," Friedrich says, attempting to grasp your arm gently.

You turn to face him, resisting the urge to slap him. "Remember this ‘small price to pay’ when you’re lying awake in the cold German night, longing for the feeling of my body tangled with yours," you say, your voice dripping with provocation. The look he gives you is utterly sinful.

"Are you certain you’ll be able to resist me all this time?" Friedrich steps closer, nearly ignoring the luggage between you. His tongue flicks over his lips, and his piercing blue eyes seem to reach into your very soul.

You chuckle, tilting your head. "Perhaps now that I am an unclaimed woman, I might find comfort in another’s embrace," you tease, tracing your fingers lightly over his clothes. The fabric is extravagant and old-fashioned, but one of the buttons is straining, barely holding against the breadth of his chest.

"I would never allow another to take you from me," he murmurs, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. You are still wearing your regular clothes, making it easy for him to pull you into his embrace.

"Tell me you understand why I had to lie about being single. It was one of the job’s conditions, and this is a magnificent opportunity," Friedrich says, his fingers brushing through your hair, gently tucking stray strands behind your ear.

But just as you lift your gaze to meet his, ready to respond, the world shifts. It is as if you are slipping into a dream. The space around you vanishes. Friedrich dissolves before your eyes, fading like mist. Then, out of the encroaching darkness, a hand—long, clawed fingers extending toward you—emerges.

A figure approaches, vaguely human yet distinctly unnatural, draped in what seems to be a heavy, fur-lined cloak. It has no face, no discernible features, but its presence is suffocating.

"Sweet creature, come to me," it murmurs, the voice unlike any accent you have ever heard. It is not simply foreign; it is… otherworldly. And yet, you know this voice. You have heard it before—in your dreams.

"Who are you?" you cry out, your breath hitching as a thick fog coils around you, blurring your vision.

"There is time and place for introductions," the voice responds, calm and assured, as if speaking an unshakable truth. "But know this—only my touch will ever truly satisfy you."

The creature’s fingers graze your neck, pulling you closer with a grip that is both commanding and intimate. "Nothing will ever separate us, sweet creature," it whispers, and then—agony. And then is like you cannot breathe.

You scream, but the sound is swallowed by the suffocating mist. Agonizing pain sears through your skin as its claws carve into your throat, burning as though fire itself has kissed your flesh. The haze surrounds you, thick and intoxicating, dulling your senses even as terror pulses through your veins. You squeeze your eyes shut— And suddenly, you are awake. Gasping, you find yourself in Friedrich’s arms.

Your body trembles violently as you find yourself cradled in Friedrich’s arms, his warmth grounding you. "My love, you fainted for a moment," he says, his voice laced with concern. He holds you close, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and finally your lips. But the vision lingers. The pain feels real. You jerk away, startling him.

"I—I’m sorry. I just need a moment. I…" The words falter as your hands shake, the terror still fresh in your mind. Friedrich watches you carefully before reaching for your hands, enclosing them within his own. His grasp is firm yet soothing.

"I had a vision, Friedrich. It was dark… painful," you whisper, your voice nearly breaking.

He presses a kiss to your trembling fingers, his blue eyes filled with quiet determination. "My dearest, do not fear. Even if I must chase the shadows from your mind, I will protect you from whatever haunts you," he vows, holding you as if he can shield you from the unseen.

"Mr. Harding and Miss Y/L/N, am I interrupting?" A peculiar man approaches, dressed like a butler from the nineteenth century. You and Friedrich immediately pull apart, sensing that this must be the driver Count Orlok sent for you.

"No," Friedrich replies smoothly. "The young lady and I happened to be on the same flight, and when she felt unwell, I merely sought to assist her."

You roll your eyes before adding, "The lady is grateful, but hopes you understand it is quite inappropriate to approach an unaccompanied woman in such a manner." You begin gathering your luggage.

"Do not worry, I shall not report any of this to Count Orlok," the man says in a hushed, almost conspiratorial tone. "My name is Kno—" He pauses, as if his own name were a secret. His scent reaches you—strong, sterile, like cleaning products. "Knock," he finally finishes.

"Let us be off. There is much for you both to adjust to, and the young lady must change into proper attire before meeting Count Orlok," Knock states, assisting with your luggage and loading it into a vehicle that looks as though it was plucked straight from another era.

"We are meeting Count Orlok today?" Friedrich asks as he lifts some of the bags into the automobile before offering you his hand to step inside.

"And must I change my attire?" you inquire as you settle into the back seat.

"The magnanimous Count Orlok will receive only the young lady today," Knock explains as he starts the engine. "Mr. Harding will spend the day settling into the guesthouse and assembling a local team for the restoration work, with my assistance. Meanwhile, Miss Y/L/N will don appropriate attire and begin her time in the Count’s esteemed presence."

The car moves forward, the landscape unfolding before you. A strange sense of familiarity washes over you, though you cannot place why. Friedrich, seemingly enchanted by the surroundings, barely notices as you raise a hand to your neck, your fingers tracing the phantom sensation of sharp claws against your skin. Something is coming. You can feel it.