#at which point we get kicked out of that room and one person has to leave to go work on another group project

[sweet-as-kiwis]

Never before have I turned in negative peer reviews. The time has finally come.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

lavender marriage / beard for the soulmate or timeloop au

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[euthymiya]

“What’s got you so grumpy?”

Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.

He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.

“What are you talking about?” He grunts.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)

“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).

“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”

“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”

It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”

“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”

“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”

“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.

It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.

It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.

“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”

“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”

To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.

“You fucking freak,” he mutters.

Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)

You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.

Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.

But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.

But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.

“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”

Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.

You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.

But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.

“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are,” he agrees instantly.

You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”

It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.

“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.

“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”

“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.

“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.

Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.

“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.

You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”

“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”

“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.

“And if I do?”

“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.

When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.

He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.

It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.

You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.

“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I love you.”

He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”

“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”

————————

a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.

[obsesssedblerd]

Shut me up

“No, no, please, you don’t understand—we need to have a room with two beds instead of one.” 

From the middle of the bed, Satoru scoffs at the sound of your desperate pleas to the receptionist over the phone. You pace back and forth, groaning when you’re told that it was the last room. “I know that we booked last minute, but— Oh…. this is the only room available? …I see. Goodnight.” 

When you hang up, Satoru doesn’t stop his laugh, and the sound of it immensely amplifies your frustration. “You’re so pissed off,” he says as you cross your arms and glare at him. “It’s hilarious. Well, princess, looks like we’re here for the night. Get comfortable.” 

“Hell no,” you say, reaching into your bag to grab your phone. “I’m gonna ask Yaga for another place. There has to be another inn that’s close to the curse we’re tracking, and has two beds.” 

Satoru gets up from the bed and walks over to you, gently plucking your phone out of your hands and placing it on the dresser. “Yaga is asleep right now, and he worked his ass off to get this place for us at the very last minute.”

Good point. “Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“Quit being ridiculous.” The asshole smirks, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “So flustered at the idea of sharing a bed with me. We’re just sleeping. You’re not thinking about anything dirty, are you?” 

“Huh?! No,” you hiss. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

He doesn’t stop his teasing. “Hm. Sounds like you’re lying.” 

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you say, walking over to your bag and grabbing some clothes comfortable to sleep in. “And I’m not flustered. Just hate the idea of being so close to someone I can’t stand.” You head into the bathroom to shower and change before he can say anything else. “If you snore tonight, I’m kicking you.”

—

You can’t sleep. How could you? The room is quiet, and all you can think about is the man beside you. Speaking of, you hear Satoru shift, and the faint aroma of the expensive body wash he used while showering fills your nose. You hate to think it, but he does smell good. You look at the clock on the nightstand, and sigh quietly. Almost midnight. 

“Are you awake?” Satoru asks, and you pretend that you don’t hear him. 

You feel a poke in your ribs, and you shriek. “What the hell?!” 

“Pfft. Knew you were up.” He chuckles. “Ticklish?” 

“Do you need something?” 

“Nah, I just wanted to bother you.” 

You inhale sharply in an attempt to calm yourself, then turn around to face him. Though the room was mostly dark, you can still see him due to the moonlight shining through the window of the room. He’s lying on his side with his head resting against his arm, which was propped up on his pillow. 

“You’re like a child,” you say flatly as you roll your eyes. 

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. ��Mhm.” 

“And you talk too much.”

“Tell me more.” 

“Extremely annoying, I can’t stand when you show up to missions late sometimes because you want sugar, and you joke around way too much when we’re supposed to be serious. Yaga, Suguru, and Shoko think that, too.”

He chuckles again, and you ignore the way your stomach flutters at the sound of it. “Aw, come on. You tell me that almost everyday. Give me something new.” 

“And give you that satisfaction? Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you turn back around to face the wall. “I think you’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever worked with,” you conclude. 

“Well, you know what I think?” He asks, and you hum in question. You hear the bed creak as he moves, and your heart begins to pound when you sense him directly behind you. If you were to shift back even just a tiny bit, your back would be against his chest. 

“I think you’re full of shit,” he says near your ear, his voice dropping an octave lower. You feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. 

“How so?” You whisper.

His hand begins to slowly slide down your arm, goosebumps rising on your skin. “You think I’m the most ridiculous person you’ve ever worked with, but you keep working with me,” he purrs, his breath fanning the shell of your ear. “At any moment, you can tell Yaga to quit having us do missions together, but you don’t. I always end up seeing you even though you say you hate looking at me.”

You feel his hand softly drift across your hip, then rest there, his fingers lightly playing with the hem of your shirt. Then, they slip underneath, drawing light, teasing patterns on your skin. Your breath hitches. 

You feel warm. 

“Saw how you looked at me when I got out of the shower earlier,” he says, and your stomach twists. Of course he did. Nothing ever gets past Satoru Gojo. “You were practically drooling while watching me put a shirt on.” 

“I-” You clear your throat. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re such a liar.” 

His lips press a feather-light kiss to your neck—on a spot where you’re very sensitive, and you gasp, but instinctively tilt your head to give him a bit more access. When you catch yourself, you straighten, and Satoru only scoffs. “See? It’s obvious.” 

“...What’s obvious?” 

“You want me.” 

You turn around again, ready to tell him that this was the dumbest thing you’ve heard him say all night, but he puts a finger to your lips, effectively stopping your words before you can get them out. “You want me,” he says again, “but you don’t know how to deal with that. So, you pretend that you hate me when you and I both know that it’s not true.” He then smiles again, his eyes dark with want. “But I see right through it. You’re not subtle. Anyway, you have a choice. You can either continue with your lying, or you can actually do something about it.” 

It takes a lot out of you to keep your hands out of the way so you don’t strangle him and then pull him closer. “Something like what?” You ask.

“You think I talk too much.” He leans closer to you; your faces nearly touching. You swallow once, his eyes tracking the movement of your throat as you do. Then his smile grows, inviting—no, daring you to make a move. 

“So shut me up.”

[cowboybeepboop]

Omg your Tyler Owens stuff is so good! Can I request something for him please?

Where reader and tyler have been seeing each other but they haven't told the crew they are not trying to hide it just enjoying keeping it between them. After a night of "fun" reader had big hickey on her neck and collarbone and the crew teases her about it all day even a little on camera and keep asking the reader who she is seeing thinking it might be scott since she's the only one on their team that he's nice so they tease her and tyler gets jealous. That night tyler shows her who she "belongs" to and confesses his love and the crew hears them but still thinks it scott til the next morning they see tyler and her leave the room together and with his own hicky and and the crew is shocked and tyler looks at the reader and just says "busted"

Idk just a funny idea just popped in my head

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reade

Genre: Smut, romantic and fluffy

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: Possessive Tyler, jealous tyler, hickeys, a small mention of a biting kink, secret relationship

a/n: Thank you for the super fun request, it quite literally had me giggling and kicking my feet as I wrote. Also thank you so much for your compliment, my requests are always open as I love getting to build off of others ideas. I hope you enjoy and that this was all you hoped it would be although I kind of changed the last little bit on accident 😭

You and Tyler have been secretly going out for a couple months now. You’ve known him the longest out of the rest of the crew as you met in University. Honestly having feelings for him since the day you met but once you became friends you became too worried to lose him.

Your relationship started after a drunk night of confessions and has only progressed since, things just feel right with him. The pair of you have even started sharing hotel rooms in secret. Which is exactly how you ended up in this sticky situation: having a dark purple hickey on your neck.

You groan as you try to cover up the mark with concealer, he comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. Tyler grins, seeing your frustration as you try and fail at covering it up. He leans his chin on your shoulder, eyeing you in the mirror.

"Babe, why are you even trying to cover it up? You know it'll just keep appearing," he teased, nipping at your ear. You shoot him a glare, with no real heat behind it, as you lean back against his chest.

“Ty, we're so screwed.” you sigh as your fingers brush across the mark, “You know Boone isn’t going to let it go until he finds out who I’m with.”

Tyler lets out a low, amused chuckle, his hands slowly tracing your hips. "And what's wrong with that?" He teased, his lips wandering down the side of your neck.

His hands toy with the hem of your shirt, as if contemplating lifting it up. His voice is a low, heated growl in your ear. "You don't *want* everyone to know you're mine, babygirl?"

“Mm,” you let out a soft noise at his touch, “I thought we agreed to keep things quiet for a while..” your hands move on top of his as you pull them away from you slowly. You turn and give him a sweet smile while adjusting the collar of your shirt, trying to hide it.

You know he's not a big fan of keeping your relationship a secret, it’s just that you're worried about things changing within the team, or heaven forbid his teenage fangirls trying to track you down out of jealousy. You’ve always been a private person and he knows that.

Tyler frowns as you pull away, his arms dropping to his sides. He steps back with a small sigh, leaning against the counter. He's frustrated with you, but he's always been patient.

"We said that a few months ago," he points out. His thumbs hook into the belt loops of your jeans, pulling you closer against his chest. "I want to show you off, sweetheart. I'm tired of hiding you away...You're mine," he adds, his voice firm.

“I know..” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a soft kiss. “Just a little longer. Plus you have to admit, it’s a little fun sneaking around.” you gaze up at him lovingly.

"Sneaking around has its perks, I'll give you that," he agrees, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as you kiss him again.

His fingers toy with the fabric of your shirt, before his hands find their way underneath it, his touch warm against your skin. "But I'm gettin' impatient, sweetheart. This whole 'secret' thing is wearing me out..."

“You’re always impatient,” you give him another sweet smile, “We should get heading out soon…” your voice trails off as he slides his hands over your bra.

Tyler smirks at the change in your tone, his touch roaming across your bare skin underneath your shirt. He takes his time, tracing the band of your bra with his fingertips.

"Is that so?" he teased, his lips against your neck. He nips at the spot just below your ear, his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin. "What's the rush, darlin'?" you shiver at the sensation.

“Come on baby..” you reluctantly pull away from him, “We really need to get downstairs, you have a storm to find.”

Tyler watches you pull away from him with a pout, his eyes roaming over your body. He lets out a frustrated huff before he lets you go. "Fine," he grumbles. "But you're gonna pay for leaving me like *this*." He gestures down to the bulge in his jeans, giving you a cheeky smile.

You lean forward, your hands on his shoulders “I’m looking forward to that,” Tyler grins, his hands grasping your hips and pulling you closer against him. He leans in, as if to kiss you, but stops just short of your lips.

"You're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he smirks, nipping your ear, and giving your butt a firm smack through your jeans. “You head out first, I’ll follow in a few minutes.” his voice calls after you as you walk out of the bathroom.

“Don’t be too long,” you reply with a teasing tone, your eyes flicking to his jeans. Leaving the room you head down to the truck. Tyler follows shortly after, readjusting his jeans to make his arousal less prominent.

He can't help but grin at the slight bite mark on your neck, and the faint redness there too. He slides into the driver's seat, glancing over at you before he starts the truck. "Don't you look pretty with my mark on you," he teases, leaning across to buckle you in.

“Shh,” you shush him, pulling down the mirror as you move your hair over the mark. “Ty, play nice.” Boone slides into the backseat with an annoyed sigh.

“Hey, I thought it was my turn to have shotgun Y/N.” he murmurs as his arms cross over his chest.

You shoot him an apologetic look, “We can switch, if you want.” his expression softens as he relaxes into the seat.

“I’m just playing,” he smiles at you before his eyes narrow in on the hickey, noticing it through the mirror you left down. “But what's that? On your neck?” he teases with a smirk.

Tyler can't help but chuckle as Boone teases you, his own grin growing wider. He glances in the mirror, watching Boone's reaction to your neck. "What *is* that, darlin'?" he chimes in, parroting Boone's words and playing along. He gives you an innocent smile, feigning ignorance.

“It's nothing,” you stammer with a bright blush, “Just a bug bite, I must've scratched it too hard..” Lily slips into the backseat with her drone in hand.

“Lily, Y/N has a huge ‘bug bite’,” Boone leans over to her with a smirk as he points out the mark on your neck.

Lily immediately zeroes in on the mark, her eyes narrowing. She leans forward, squinting at the redness and the bruising. "That's a hell of a bug bite!" she snickers, smirking. "It looks more like someone was gnawing on your neck."

“It’s nothing,” you repeat, your blush growing brighter as Tyler starts up the engine, pulling out.

“I wonder who could have possibly left that,” Boone presses a finger to his chin as he gets lost in thought. You groan, knowing that there's no way either of them will let it go until they find the culprit.

The good news is, it's nearly impossible for them to connect the dots between you and Tyler, considering how professional and friendly you keep things.

“Maybe it was Scott,” Lily murmurs to Boone, “he does have a soft spot for Y/N, she’s like the only person he can tolerate.”

Tyler bites back a scoff, fighting the urge to react as they mention Scott. He keeps his eyes on the road, his jaw clenching.

He's trying to keep his cool, but hearing them speculate about who left the mark, and having Scott's name brought up, is getting under his skin.

Boone glances at Tyler, noticing his clenched jaw and the subtle tension in his shoulders. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

“Oh come on, just let it go already.” you purse your lips with a sigh, “I’m not gonna give anyone any names.”

“She didn't deny it.” Boone says to Lily, his tone suggestive. “So maybe we got it right, I guess that would explain why she's so close with the competitor.” he smirks, knowing he's getting on your nerves.

Tyler's hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He can feel the anger rising within him, the urge to speak up and put an end to their speculation growing stronger with each passing second.

But he keeps his lips sealed, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to stay quiet. He knows that getting involved would only lead to them suspecting something. No matter how much he hates hearing them talk about you and Scott.

“Boone, just get your camera out. We’re getting close,” you nod toward the window in front of you, arms crossing under your breasts as you try to ignore their comments

Boone rolls his eyes and grabs his camera from the seat next to him. Lily sighs disappointingly, but she too reaches for her drone.

Tyler's still trying to keep his composure, still fighting the urge to snap at them. But the way your arms cross, pushing up against your chest, momentarily distracts him. He forces his gaze back onto the road.

__________

Boone keeps filming even as the tornado sweeps into the distance, a small smirk on his lips as he films you.

“Let's take a look at our beautiful Y/N,” he walks closer to you with his sly expression, “And her huge ‘bug bite’.” Lily giggles, joining in on the teasing as you roll your eyes in response. Tyler’s grip tightens further on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. He glances at you through the rear view mirror, seeing the way you roll your eyes at their teasing. A mix of anger and possessiveness stirring within him.

Boone chuckles as he gets closer to you, camera in hand. He knows he's getting on your nerves, but can't help but tease you further. You push your hand to the lens, covering it up as you shoot him a soft glare.

“Boone, you've gotta drop it at some point.” His smirk only grows as he pulls the camera back.

“Nope,” Boone grins, his smirk only growing wider. "This is too damn good. Who could have left that on your neck, darlin'? Such a mystery.”

Lily laughs, enjoying the banter. She glances at you, her eyes studying the mark on your neck with mild interest. You let out an irritated sigh, knowing the only way to shut them up is to give an answer, the downside being that it would piss your boyfriend off.

“Well, maybe it was Scott, or maybe it was some rando from the bar.” you shrug, your gaze going to Tyler with an apologetic yet pleading expression.

Tyler tenses as you answer them, the irritation and possessiveness bubbling up within him. He keeps his eyes on the road, his expression neutral, trying not to react.

The thought of you and Scott being together, even in this hypothetical scenario, fills him with a mix of anger and jealousy. But he fights to keep his cool, knowing that he can't reveal his true feelings. Boone and Lily both perk up at your answer, their teasing grins widening.

Tyler starts the engine once again, pulling out on the road as the pair continue to speculate in the back.

“So, it was definitely Scott.” Lily says with certainty, “Y/N is not the type to hook up with some stranger she just met.” you groan in response, knowing that all this talk of Scott was going to bite you in the ass later.

Boone nods, agreeing with Lily's assessment.

"That's what I was thinking," he adds, his eyes darting to the mark on your neck. "Scott has always had a soft spot for Y/N, it wouldn't surprise me at all if he's the one who left that mark."

Tyler grits his teeth, his jaw still clenching tight. He can't help but feel a surge of jealousy and anger at the mention of Scott and your nonexistent 'relationship' with him. You send the pair an irritated glare.

“Well, the case is closed. Will you let it go now?” your annoyance finally gets them to back off.

Boone holds up his hands in surrender, a bemused smile on his lips. "Alright, alright. We'll lay off. For now anyways."

Lily grins, amused at your irritation. "Don't worry, Y/N. We're just having a little fun, that's all. But don't expect us to forget about that 'bug bite' anytime soon." Her implication is clear, and Tyler's expression hardens as he gives you a frustrated glance.

You sigh, relaxing into your seat with the newfound silence, the only thing in the background being Boones music as Tyler drives down the highway. You go over all the possible arguments you're likely to have once you get back to your room, knowing that it's your fault for not just spitting out the truth.

Tyler is stewing in silence, his grip on the steering wheel still tight. He feels frustrated and angry, both at your friends for their teasing and at you for not just telling the truth.

His mind is racing with thoughts of you and Scott together. He knows he's being irrational, that it's not true, but he can't help the possessive jealousy that's consuming him.

He glances at you from time to time, his expression still stoic, silently seething. Your nerves grow as Tyler pulls into the parking lot of the motel, killing the engine and steadying his breathing.

Boone and Lily exit the truck, their conversation resuming as they head towards the motel, none the wiser to the tension between you and Tyler.

Once the others are out of earshot, Tyler turns to you. His expression is still stern, his gaze fixated on you. "We need to talk," he says curtly, his voice low and firm.

“I know baby,” you reach over, pressing your hand to his chest softly. Tyler's expression softens slightly at your touch, but his features remain stern. He takes a moment, letting the soothing feeling of your hand on his chest settle his emotions.

"You shouldn't have let them keep speculating like that," he finally says, his voice low and controlled. "And I really didn't like hearing Scott's name brought up."

“I know and I’m sorry..” you sigh softly, “They just wouldn't let it go and I figured if I gave them their answer they would back off.” your eyes study his face.

Tyler's expression softens a bit more, the anger and jealousy slowly fading as he sees the remorse in your eyes. "I get that," he relents, the edge in his voice fading. "But you know how I feel about Scott... hearing them talk about the two of you like that, it just pisses me off."

“But he's just a friend,” your voice is quiet as he cuts you off, Tyler lets out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"You say that, but you two have this... strange, close friendship. And it bugs me. He's always making those comments, he's always hanging around you... I just don't trust him, darlin'."

Your eyebrows furrow softly, you know you don't have a reason to defend him or yourself but it doesn't stop the words from spilling out of your lips. “We don't have a strange friendship.”

Tyler's expression hardens again, the irritation creeping back in. "Y/N," he interupts, his tone firm. "He calls you 'doll'. He's constantly flirting with you. And he's *touching* you all the time. How is that not strange?"

“It's not like that.” you huff out, arms crossing under your breasts.

Tyler's eyes flicker to your chest as your arms cross, a part of him distracted by the sight. But he quickly snaps his gaze back to your face, irritation and jealousy once again taking hold.

"Then tell me what it's like," he challenges, his voice growing firmer. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you two have some kind of thing going on. I don't like it, darlin'."

Your irritation peaks as you get out of the truck, slamming the door behind you. You're just frustrated with the way everyone has been pressing you all day.

Tyler follows closely behind you, shutting the truck door with more force than necessary. He follows you into the motel, his irritation matching yours.

As soon as you reach your room, he pushes the door open and steps in after you, his expression intense and serious. "We're not done talking about this," he states firmly, closing the door behind him.

You feel more relaxed in the privacy of your room, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pull Tyler to you. “I’m sorry,” you press your face to his chest, “But it’s really not like that with him, I swear.”

Tyler's frustration eases slightly as you pull him to you, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist. The feeling of you against him soothes his irritation somewhat. He lets out a deep sigh, his grip on you firm and possessive. "I want to believe you," he admits, "But it's hard not to get jealous when I see him constantly all over you."

You giggle softly, your voice muffled by his chest. “We’ve been friends since elementary school, he’s just a little awkward around others, that's why he sticks by me so much.”

Tyler lets out a scoff, his arms clinging tighter to you. "Yeah, real 'awkward'," he mutters, the sarcasm evident in his voice. "He's always touching you, calling you cute little nicknames... that doesn't seem 'awkward' to me, that seems pretty damn intentional."

“Trust me Ty, he just sees me as a younger sister.” you gaze up at him, “Plus he’s probably going to propose to my sister the second he gets back home.” your voice is a soft murmur, as you reach up brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Tyler's expression softens more as you explain Scott and your sister's history. A mix of relief and guilt washes over him, realizing his own insecurities and jealousy have gotten the best of him.

He lets out a sigh, his voice quieter than before. "I guess I'm just feeling a little protective of you, darlin'. I don't like seeing other guys touching you like that. It pisses me off."

“I think I'm a fan of your jealous side,” you smirk up at him, your hand trailing down his chest. Tyler's eyes darken with desire, a low growl rising in his throat as your hand trails down his chest. Your comment only adds fuel to his possessiveness, stoking the flames of his jealousy.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. "Oh, are you now?" he purrs, his voice deep and gravelly.

Standing on your tippy toes you whisper into his ear, “It turns me on, seeing you all possessive..” your hand travels down to his belt buckle.

Tyler's breath hitches as you whisper into his ear, followed by your hand moving to his belt buckle. His body tenses, a mixture of anticipation and desire running through him.

"Is that so, darlin'?" he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. His hands grip your hips firmer, his thumbs gently tracing small circles against your skin.

“I like it when you get worked up like this.” you press kisses to his neck as your hands fumble with his belt, pulling it off and unbuttoning his jeans.

Tyler lets out a low moan as you press your lips to his neck. His body tenses even more, his breathing growing more ragged with each touch. Your hand fumbling with his belt, followed by the unbuttoning of his jeans, only adds to his growing arousal.

His hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him. “Are you trying to drive me crazy, babygirl?” he growls, his voice raw and husky.

“I’m trying to make things up to you,” your eyes are full of desire as you drop to the ground, pulling his jeans and boxers down with you.

Tyler's breath hitches as you drop to the ground, his gaze locked on yours as you pull his jeans and boxers down. The sight of you on your knees, your eyes full of desire, sends a jolt of anticipation through him.

He watches you intently, his hands resting on your shoulders, his expression a mixture of hunger and need. He's barely able to muster a reply, "And how exactly do you plan to do that, darlin'?"

With a wicked smile, you grasp ahold of Tyler's length, his eyes widening in surprise as you begin to suck him off. Your mouth is hot and wet, your movements slow and deliberate. You savor the feel of him in your mouth, the way he responds to your touch. His hands find their way into your hair, gripping it tightly as you tease him with your tongue, tracing the veins that run along his shaft.

His hips buck slightly as you take him deeper, your eyes never leaving his. The look in your eyes is full of challenge and defiance, as if saying 'You want to be possessive? I'll give you something to be possessive about'. Tyler's jaw clenches, his eyes hooded with desire as he watches you, his breathing growing heavier.

You feel a thrill run through you as you bring him closer to the edge, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. The sounds of his pleasure are music to your ears, his groans and gasps driving you to go further. You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, feeling him throb in your grip.

Tyler's eyes are squeezed shut, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His hands tighten in your hair, guiding you as you suck him off, the tension in his body building. His hips rock into your mouth, his movements growing more erratic as you increase your pace.

You moan around him, feeling his cock thicken and swell. You know he's close, and the power you have over him at this moment is a heady rush. His grip on your hair tightens, his breathing becoming ragged.

With a final, desperate thrust, Tyler cums into your mouth, the warm, salty liquid filling it as you swallow reflexively. His hips jerk, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. You keep your eyes locked on his, not breaking the intensity of the moment as you finish him off, your hand still working his shaft gently.

As he starts to come down from the high, he groans, pulling you to your feet. His hands roam over your body, his touch hungry and possessive. You stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your own desire spiking from the sight of him so lost in pleasure.

He wraps his arms around your waist, his mouth finding your neck as he starts to pepper it with hot, demanding kisses. His teeth graze your skin, his tongue flicking against the sensitive spots he knows drive you wild.

You gasp as he pulls your shirt over your head, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. His eyes devour your bare chest, his breathing growing ragged. He cups your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples as he sucks in a sharp breath.

Leaning down, Tyler captures one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging gently before sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, eliciting a moan from you as he rolls the other between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your knees weak.

With a sudden, yet gentle force, Tyler pushes you back against the bed, his hands firmly on your hips as you stumble slightly. You let out a surprised gasp, but the excitement in your eyes is unmistakable. He follows you, his body pressing against yours as you fall back onto the mattress.

With deft movements, he slides your pants and panties off in one swift motion. The fabric whispers against your skin as it's peeled away, leaving you bare and exposed before him. You can feel the coolness of the room air kiss your newly exposed flesh, making you shiver with anticipation.

Tyler groans, his eyes darkening as they drink in the sight of your bare body. Goosebumps rise along your skin, not from the cold, but from the raw hunger in his gaze. His hands glide up your thighs, his thumbs tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending waves of heat through your body.

He peels his own clothes away with a sense of urgency, his shirt and pants dropping to the floor in a hasty heap. His chest is bare, muscles flexing with each breath he takes, his skin warm and inviting. You can't help but reach out and run your fingers over his abs, feeling the power in each defined muscle.

He settles between your thighs, pressing warm kisses into your skin, starting at the top of your thighs and moving closer to your center. Each kiss feels like a promise of pleasure to come, sending shivers down your spine and making your legs quiver with need. His hands hold your thighs open, his gaze never leaving yours as he kisses and nips his way closer.

Your eyes widen with anticipation as he reaches the apex of your thighs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. The kisses become softer, more gentle, as if he's savoring the moment before he takes you over the edge. His tongue flicks out, tracing the crease of your thigh before delving into your folds. You moan, arching your back as he tastes you.

The room is filled with the sound of your breathy gasps and his hungry groans. His mouth works against you, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving you closer and closer to climax. You're lost in the sensation, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you begin to rock your hips against his face.

His eyes stay on yours, watching your every reaction, as his mouth works its magic. You can feel the tension building, your core tightening with each stroke of his tongue. He seems to know exactly what you need, his mouth moving in perfect rhythm with your body's desires.

Your legs start to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Tyler's eyes darken with satisfaction, his hands moving to grip your hips tighter, holding you in place as he increases his pace.

The pressure builds, your body feeling like it's going to combust from the inside out. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, he flicks your clit with his tongue, sending you spiraling over the edge.

Your body convulses with pleasure, a keening cry escaping your lips as you come apart in his arms. He doesn't stop, though, continuing to lick and kiss until you're a puddle of pleasure beneath him.

As your breathing starts to even out, Tyler pulls back, a smug smile playing on his lips. He leans over you, planting a gentle kiss on your stomach before moving up to claim your mouth with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, and the act of sharing your own arousal with him only makes your desire for him grow stronger.

He pulls away, reaching for a condom from the nightstand. His hands are shaking slightly with his own need, but he manages to sheath himself before pressing back into you. You spread your legs wider, welcoming him with a needy whine.

As he enters you, you feel a sense of rightness, of belonging. He's so much more than just a friend, more than just a lover. He's yours, and in this moment, you're his.

He moves with a fierce gentleness, his hips rocking into yours as you both chase the high of your shared passion. The friction is delicious, each thrust sending sparks through your body.

You bite down gently on his shoulder, muffling your moans as they build in your throat. Tyler's eyes darken with pleasure at the small bite of pain, his movements growing more urgent. He knows you're close, he can feel it in the way your body clenches around him.

He slows down, his hips rocking into you with a purposeful rhythm that has you on the edge of sanity. Each stroke is a declaration of his possession, a gentle reminder that you're his, and he's yours. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with the same patience and care as he does with the rest of your body.

You bite down on your lip, trying to hold in the scream that's threatening to break free. Tyler notices, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he leans in to whisper in your ear. "Let go, darlin'. I've got you."

With those words, the dam breaks, and you cum around him, your body tightening and releasing in waves of pleasure. Tyler's hips stutter for a moment, his control slipping as he's overwhelmed by the sensation of you coming apart beneath him. His eyes squeeze shut, his own climax now just seconds away.

As your orgasm subsides, Tyler's own builds, his breathing ragged and uneven. He opens his eyes, looking into yours, and you can see the desperate need in them. He wants to claim you, to make sure there's no doubt in anyone's mind who you belong to.

The idea hits you like a lightning bolt, and you act on it without a second thought. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. With your teeth, you graze the sensitive skin just below his ear, feeling his body jerk in response. He's so focused on driving into you, on reaching his peak, that he doesn't notice at first what you're doing.

But when your teeth sink into the flesh of his neck, he gasps, his eyes widening. He tries to pull back, but you hold him in place, your nails digging into his shoulders. "What the hell are you..." he starts to protest, but the words die in his throat as pleasure overwhelms him.

You suck hard, leaving a dark mark that matches the one he gave you. He groans, his hips jerking as he reaches his own climax. You can feel his warmth fill you up, and the feeling of his pulsing inside you sends you into another round of spasms.

"You little minx," he pants out, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rides out his orgasm. You giggle against his neck, your mouth still latched onto his skin. "What was that for?"

You pull away, licking your lips and smiling wickedly up at him. "Payback," you murmur, your voice still breathless from the intensity of your shared passion.

Tyler laughs, the sound deep and rich, his body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue tracing the path your teeth had just taken. "Fair is fair," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

He pulls out of you with an exhausted sigh, his chest heaving with the effort of his release. Tyler rolls over, pulling you to his chest as you both catch your breath. The scent of sex and sweat fills the air, but it's not unpleasant. It's a heady, intoxicating scent that makes you feel alive and desired. Your cheek rests against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as it slowly returns to normal.

"But you know," he says after a moment, his voice teasing, "I can't have just anyone leaving marks on my neck. That's my job."

You laugh, feeling the tension from earlier dissipate completely. "Deal," you murmur, snuggling closer to him. Tyler wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as your bodies begin to cool.

The sound of your combined breathing fills the quiet room, the only other noise is the faint hum of the air conditioner. You both lay there, lost in the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace, the earlier tension and jealousy a distant memory.

"I love you," Tyler whispers, his voice barely audible. You look up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I know," you reply, placing a gentle kiss on his chin. "And I love you too."

The two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth and light that you share between you.

__________

Tyler's eyes slowly open, a yawn escaping his lips as you plant gentle kisses against his skin, trying to rouse him from his comfortable slumber. His arms automatically wrap around you, pulling you close.

"Mornin', darlin'," he mumbles, his voice groggy from sleep.

“You better get ready for the day,” you whisper into his ear, relaxing into his body.

Tyler groans, his lips finding your neck as his hands slide up your shirt, his touch firm yet gentle as he pulls you closer. "Do I have to get up?" he grumbles, burying his face against your skin.

“Mhm, it’s almost 9 baby.” you run your fingers through his hair, fixing the wild strands.

Tyler groans again, his body reluctant to leave the warm embrace of the bedsheets. However, the mention of the time makes him reluctantly start to untangle himself from you, his eyes slowly opening to the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Fine," he mumbles, groggily propping himself up on an elbow. "But only if you go get us some coffee, darlin'."

“You’ve got it,” you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “But you better be downstairs in 20.” your tone demanding as you turn away, grabbing your keys and wallet as you step out of the room.

Tyler watches as you leave the room, a sly grin on his face. He's never seen you this authoritative before, but he finds it oddly attractive.

"Yes ma'am," he replies, his voice still groggy with sleep. He rubs a hand over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

He sits up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, revealing his bare chest. He watches the door for a moment before pushing himself up and heading towards the bathroom.

You lean against Tyler's truck watching as Boone and Lily argue over something small, your grin growing. The two cups of coffee sitting on the hood of the car.

Boone and Lily, with their usual banter, are engaged in a heated discussion over something small. You can't help but chuckle as you lean against Tyler's truck, watching them go at it.

Tyler steps outside, his hair still messy from sleep, and comes up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"What are they arguing about now?" he asks, his breath warm on your skin. Your body stiffens at his gesture noticing how Boone and Lily gaze over at you.

“I’m really not sure,” you glance over at him, feeling your stomach twist as Boone stalks over to the pair of you.

Tyler grabs his coffee, not missing the way Boone's gaze goes to the mark on his neck. Tyler suppresses a grumble, his grip on the coffee cup tightening slightly.

Boone's smirk is infuriating as he approaches the pair of you. "Looks like you had an eventful night, Tyler," he teases, his tone slightly mocking.

“Looks like we’re busted.” Tyler gazes down at you with a soft smirk as your cheeks flush.

[pomefioredove]

boop

summary: booping them + their reactions type of post: headcanons characters: third years additional info: is short, platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral author's note: this would've been good to post for the tumblr april fool's event but I missed out so you're getting it now instead!

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

hmm... okay!

trey often navigates his interactions with other students based on his interactions with his siblings

there's an order to human behavior, after all

especially with the underclassmen shenanigans (he's really seen it all at this point; don't ask)

none of his siblings, however, have walked up to him unannounced and booped his nose

not yet, at least?

it seems to make you happy though, so he just smiles

half of his job as vice housewarden is "going along with it"

he's pretty used to nonsense

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

he's editing something on his phone the first time you try and doesn't even notice it

...and the second time, and the third

it becomes a sort of routine for you

tentatively trying to see how many times you can get away with it before he finally notices and says something

and it only spirals from there, of course

you'll up to him while he's talking to someone else, boop him, and walk away

(much to the other person's confusion)

does he notice? yeah, of course

do you need to know that he notices? ...maybe not

he likes the attention, just let him have this one

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ⋆˚⸙˖°༄✩⊹

he gnaws your hand off

okay, not really. too messy for him

(and the consequences would be such a headache to deal with...)

but he is all grumpy because you woke him up for that

"What was that supposed to be? -_- Don't do that again,"

rolls over and goes back to sleep

you're lucky he reacted as nonchalantly as he did tbh, lions don't like being pet, and he could've kicked you out of his room in a heartbeat for that

(maybe you get a special pass to be annoying)

note to you: don't do that again

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊

boops you back right away

does he necessarily know what that means? no, but he'll find out soon enough anyway

and based off your body language and expression it seems like a gesture of affection

...which he's all too happy to return

(he's so excited to be touching you affectionately he could explode)

now every time you see each other you end up going back and forth for hours

"boop!" "boop!" "boop!"

that's one sure way to give Vil a headache

(you may or may not end up temporarily banned from Pomefiore for disturbing the peace)

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊

you'd assume he gets annoyed, right?

well, he's a little surprised at first (people just don't go around touching him, after all)

then he just smiles

"Remember what we said about asking before touching, hm?"

you're lucky he thinks you're cute

(if not a little strange)

like, so lucky

congratulations on being the only human on earth who gets away with casually touching his face like that

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 ₊✩‧₊˚⊹༄˚₊모‧₊

well. what do you expect

his eyes widen and his face (and hair) go pink and he internally freaks out (but externally just stands there)

"Um... What was that for?"

Idia might be a little more familiar with the conventions of a boop than anyone else

it's what you do to adorable little animals, right? like kitties and puppies?

so... why are you doing it to him?

if you say you "just felt like it" he might believe you

if you say it's because you think he's cute he will be avoiding you for the rest of the month

good luck!

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽｡°⊹

blinks.

has zero clue what you meant by that

but you seem happy with yourself so it couldn't have been a bad thing, right?

"I'm unfamiliar with that gesture. Is that a greeting from your home?"

you explain that it's a sort of affection you show towards cute things

"Oh, well... you're quite brave. I'm honored,"

he's definitely all sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the week

he's all but giggling and kicking his feet back and forth

no one really questions him

and he doesn't really explain

(if Sebek finds out you booped the heir to the throne of Briar Valley as if he were a kitty cat he will gnaw your hand off)

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽｡°⊹

pleasantly surprised, doesn't even question it

he is adorable, after all, he can't blame you for wanting to be affectionate with him

boops you back, of course

after all, aren't you just the cutest thing too?

if you try to walk away after booping him he will find you to return the favor

will somehow make it a competitive sport

waiting for you around corners, hiding in every nook and cranny so that he might catch you by surprise and boop you

(he is totally keeping count of who's ahead)

it makes the school a warzone for like a solid week before Silver's pleas to "please be normal about the prefect" finally work

(AKA Lilia gets bored of it and finds another way to be close to you)

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆⁺₊❅. “Give you...whatever you need!"⋆⁺₊❅.

synopsis: being the captains assistant ;)

tags: lots of possessiveness, manipulation (?), power dynamics, dom capitano, vulgar, explicit, fingering, facefucking, begging, degradation, penetration, creampie, you get the gist

wrd cnt: 2.5k

a/n: doja cat pls release generous ( lyrics from the song as title) and my life is YOURS… also partly inspired by the azeru audio….

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Droplets of a custom blend of his favorite drink, warm and slightly sweet hit the bottom of a porcelain cup.

It was just something you did, something you knew The Captain liked and as his assistant, routinely did.

This particular evening it was as if everyone in the nation needed you. A task, an errand, or just had to stop you in your tracks to his quarters for some idle chat.

It must have been several minutes longer than when he was expecting you, which was far too long to keep the Captain waiting; occupied against your will.

His tea was cold by now.

Finally, you ran over to his door. The runway-like carpet ending and small tiles lining the entryway to his office, guarded and sealed.

But you were a regular.

The guard knocked on the door, “Sir, your assistant has returned” he announced, waiting for an answer.

It took a few seconds, but you could hear a faint “Let her in”.

You sigh deeply and watch the giant doors open and shut behind you as you walk into the dimly lit room, only candles and small lamps lit across the table and crackling fireplace that remained behind The Captain’s seated body.

“Over and Over. I must have called you a thousand times? More or less.” He spoke, his voice clear even through the steel mask that adorned his face.

“I’m so sorry-“ You quickly respond, placing the cup on the edge of his desk and folding your hands together. “I got caught up with some others- a few harbingers as well needed my assistance.”

He straightened his legs, now standing in front of you, making you back up just slightly due to his large frame.

“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you serve.” He said, the point of his gauntlet nail scratching the edge of your jaw and trailing down to your chin.

“Who kept you so long?” He asked, quickly adding “Never mind. Don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

You have trouble knowing where to look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for yourself.

“Now that you’re here…maybe we should get started. You’ll probably need to stay overnight.” He mentioned.

You nod, agreeably to not seem like you’re eager to leave.

You sorted out all the intel Capitano had been collecting. There were piles of data, equipment, maps, and so much more. You were the only person he’d let touch them. It was common for you to stay late, as work never seems to dry out. It was also common for you to be whatever he wanted you to be. Errand runner, liaison…or his toy to let out his frustrations.

Everyone sees The Captain for what he puts on. Respectable and professional.

Most of the fatui honestly confess to enjoying working for him, as he has been much kinder than the others.

He can be, but he has his limits.

How can he be so kind to you when you’re late? You dared to keep him waiting.

“This is unlike you.” He says, noticing you yawn as you flip through the pages.

You blink your eyes a second too long, “Oh- I’m sorry I haven’t gotten much sleep, but I can keep working! Please don’t worry”. You assure.

“ I’m not worried, not for myself anyway.” He adds, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.

“Come here.” He urges you, forcing you to get off your small little table in the corner to his desk.

He flicks just one finger and you follow, taunting you to his lap.

“Yes- Captain?” You feel your throat get dry as you sit on his thigh, big enough to count as a seat.

“Is there anything…you need from me?” You ask, insinuating a more personal form of assistance.

He hikes his foot up higher on the table, creating a steep slope of his legs that drags you down and forces you into the crook of your lap, hands instinctively hitting his chest for balance.

“This isn’t for me. I think we need to wake you up.”

You felt a small shiver run up your spine when his hands landed on your hips, “How else will you finish all your work?” He adds.

You let out a small sigh as you felt his steel-clad fingers wrapping around your sides as if your ribs were now armored.

He slowly dragged them down your stomach, small points sliding down the sides of your thighs making you arch your back and grind onto his lap, earning a chuckle from him.

With swift motion, he grabs your throat; dropping his mask on the floor and letting it roll off somewhere.

Your body tenses, and you can see the most faint glimpses of his face; still hidden under the darkness of the room.

Deep and rich, he speaks to you, “Take off your clothes.”

Almost as if he’d conditioned your mind, you do so with no complaints.

He even helps, tugging up your shirt with the finger tip of his gauntlets as you pull it off. As your shirt falls to the floor, you stand before him in just your bra and skirt, your heart pounding in your chest. He doesn't waste any time, his hands moving to your back, deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down your arms, and your breasts spill free, bouncing lightly as they are finally released. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now the rest."

You slip your skirt down, letting it pool at your feet, and step out of it.

You stand there, naked and vulnerable, your breath hitching as Capitano's fingers trace the curve of your hips. His touch is firm yet deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. Shadows play across his muscular frame, making him appear even more imposing as he pulls you back onto his lap, each leg now dangling off his sides.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. The steel in his tone leaves no room for disobedience.

You hesitate for a brief moment, but the intensity in his dark blue eyes compels you to comply. You part your thighs, positioning yourself in his lap. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable, a stark contrast to the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your folds, another hand squeezing your breasts between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp, arching into his touch, your body betraying how much you crave his attention.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you.

He leans forward, his mouth closing around your nipple, suckling hard enough to make you cry out.

His teeth graze the tender flesh, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the tough material of his armor, as he moves to your other breast, repeating the process. Each pull of his lips, each scrape of his teeth, makes you shudder, your body responding eagerly to his rough ministrations.

"Captain..." you moan, your voice breaking as he continues his assault on your senses and his gentle strokes around your inner thigh, purposefully ignoring your sensitive pearl.

He pulls back, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. "Turn around," he orders, his voice firm and commanding.

You obey, swinging your leg over and turning your back to him…well, it’s more of him picking up your entire weight and shifting you into position.

As you automatically reach for the edge of the desk to steady yourself, he lifts himself off his seat, stepping close to your body, his presence looming behind you, his heat radiating against your bare skin. You feel his hands on your ass, squeezing the globes roughly, spreading them apart to expose your most intimate parts. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what's coming next.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me." He adds, flicking his arm down to release his hand from the gauntlet, thudding on the floor just as his last piece of equipment.

“Is this what you were thinking about in that little corner of yours?” He teases.

His fingers trail down, skin grazing the crease where your thighs meet your ass, dipping lower until they brush against your wet folds. You gasp, your knees buckling slightly as he slips one finger inside you, probing deeply. You clench around him, your muscles instinctively tightening, drawing him deeper.

"You're so, so wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly building up speed. "Such a good girl."

Your head falls forward, your forehead resting on the cool surface of the desk as you ride out the sensations he's unleashing on your body. His cold finger flicks against your clit, making you jerk and whimper, your hips swaying involuntarily as you try to get more friction. "Beg for it," he demands, removing his finger and resting it on your hips.

"Please... Captain, please," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "I want more... I need you..."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he says, "But soon."

You whine in protest, your body aching for release, but he grabs your hips.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You drop to your knees, your hands trembling as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. You undo his pants, pushing them down to reveal his hardened length, already glistening with pre-cum.

You lick your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

"Take me in your mouth," he orders, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "Show me how much you want it."

You obey, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock, sucking gently as you take him deep into your throat. He groans, his hands tightening in your hair as you bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him with each pass. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, his hips thrusting gently to meet your movements.

"Fuck... yes," he mutters, his voice strained with effort. "Suck it like you mean it."

You redouble your efforts, taking him deeper, your throat convulsing around him as you gag slightly.

He tastes amazing, salt and iron, the essence of his power and dominance filling your senses. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you stroke the base of his shaft with your hand, listening to the sounds of his grunts and moans above you.

"That's it," he praises, his fingers digging into your scalp. "Just like that... almost there...you’re working so hard"

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing heavy and labored. You know he's close, can feel the tension building in him, and you work harder, your jaw aching from the effort.

Suddenly, he lets out a low growl, his fingers yanking your head back as he comes, his hot seed flooding your mouth.

You swallow dutifully, licking him clean as he pulls out of your mouth, his chest heaving with exertion.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and smirks. "Up," he commands, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm.

You do as told, standing up and facing him, your legs shaky from being on your knees for so long. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards the desk, and pushes you onto it, your chest pressing against the cool wood. You gasp, your nipples rubbing against the rough surface, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh before diving between your legs once more. His fingers find your drenched entrance, slipping inside with ease, pumping in and out with increasing speed.

You moan, your head falling back as his other hand circles your clit, rubbing it furiously.

"That’s it…keep making those sounds," he whispers, "So fucking wet for me. You need more, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to form words, your body consumed by the pleasure he's giving you. His rough hands continue to pleasure you, painting your ass red with just a single slap.

“Answer me.” He says, waiting for your begging voice before pressing his hard length into your ass.

“Yes- please….please Capitano.” You whimper.

You can almost feel the smirk that’s plastered on his face behind you. He lines himself up, his tip teasing your entrance, dipping just enough to coat himself in your slick arousal. You shiver at the contact, your body tensing in anticipation. Then, without warning, he presses forward, his cock sliding partway into your tight channel before pausing.

"Relax," he commands, his voice firm. "Give yourself to me completely."

You try to relax, breathing deeply, but the stretch is overwhelming. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to push deeper, filling you inch by agonizing inch. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your muscles clenching around him as he forces his way inside.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Take it all, my little slut."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the fullness, by the sheer dominance of his presence within you. It's almost too much, but somehow, it's exactly what you need.

Capitano doesn't wait for you to adjust. With a low growl, he pulls back until only his tip remains, then thrusts forward again, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force. You cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support as he claims you over and over again. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin and your vision blur.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight, so perfect."

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. He fucks into your at a monstrous pace, your body going limp. He picks you up, holding your neck firm from behind.

“Arch your fucking back.” He growls, roughly handling you into position. You can feel the tension building in him, the same tension that's coiling inside you, tightening with every thrust, every caress. You're close, so close, but he's not done with you yet.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low rumble.

You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, filled with lust and possession. He looks at you as if you're his world, his everything, and in this moment, you believe it.

"You're mine," he whispers, “Anytime another person- another damn harbinger calls for you- shit” He groans, “…tell them to fuck off. Captain’s order?” his voice thick with emotion. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I will-!" you breathe, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His hand slides down to your clit again, his fingers rubbing in fast, desperate circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come undone, your body convulsing around his cock. He follows right behind you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave, filling you with his warmth.

You’ve never served Capitano with a cold cup of tea again.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Tim pulls a fast one on Batman for their mutual benefit. Everybody giggles. Danny goggles.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

(Additional TW: I think this counts as a panic attack ngl)

On the one hand. The room Danny’s in has a killer view of the earth from the moon.

The wall is basically just one big window. Danny is also apparently permitted to mash his face into the glass and ogle the Earth from Space for as long as he wants until the stinky dad, whoever he is, finally emerges from the depths of the building.

Diana’s the only one beside him today. She looks nice—nicer than usual, in her armor and bright clothing rather than soft scrubs and hair net. She can push his chair without getting tired—she could probably fly and carry him too, if she had to, so. Danny’s maybe counting on her liking him if this stinky dad tries to be mean.

So. Diana (nice lady) and Danny (half-dead ghost boy) are quietly seated in a dim, peaceful board room, absorbing the early morning (?) space radiation when the door hisses open across the room.

In the doorway is a long, dark, shadow of a man.

…And the green guy!!

Okay, if the stinky dad man brought a friend to this meeting the same way Diana’s meant to supervise him, Danny feels like he’s been lawyered up for the sake of some kind of court trial. This is not fair. Danny wasn’t able to review his case with his legal representation before this.

Well. Danny fumes. Whatever. His lawyer is Diana, the most powerful living being he’s seen ever in his life, and she can totally kick the green guy’s ass. Hell, Danny could probably kick the green guy’s ass.

...You know. If he wasn’t. Sick.

The stinky dad guy looks a lot like the blob his kid drew him as. That’s kind of neat—his suit is all black with little to no variation, which sort of just washes out the colors Danny might have been able to see if his eyes were still good. He’s very quiet, which is nice, and he’s very not-trying-to-read-Danny’s-mind, which is even better.

The two sit. Danny’s already in a wheelchair, so he just lets Diana wheel him to the table. The lady sits beside him in the spinny office chair.

Hello, the green guy opens with, already toying with the edges of Danny’s aura.

Danny sends back an abundance of ass-kicking emotions.

…Alright then, the green man capitulates, the barest hint of bemusement quickly stifled.

Good. Danny is mean. He’s awake enough to be mad about other people touching his aura from any end of his personal bubble.

But then the green guy…says stuff to the dad guy? And it’s very? Quiet?

Explanations, the green guy says. The image of a sign language translator at a baseball game floats over to him, and—

…Oh. He’s translating. For Danny.

That’s…nice? Nicer than Danny expected, honestly? Most of the time, people are perfectly happy to misinterpret him. It was kind of the way of the world at this point. Getting blamed for stuff, getting accused of stuff…

Man. If they turn out to be indoctrinating him for secret war purposes, at least they’re going all in. Danny might actually. You know. Like it here. A little.

He squirms in his chair, and tries not to look at anyone in particular. Diana—the lady who’s been nice to him—makes as if to straighten his hair for him, and remembers at the last second that he doesn’t like to be touched.

And sure. Danny doesn’t want to be touched. By bad guys.

…But Diana’s been really nice to him, so. Maybe. He scratches at the back of his neck, and ducks his head down—and remembers to use his words. “Yes,” he consents verbally. He can’t make eye contact. But he can…let her. Brush his hair back. A little.

Diana asks something long and complicated—and the green guy presses an image of Wonder Woman asking permission, being kind, being gentle­—up against the edges of Danny’s awareness.

Danny nods at the floor instead of at the lady. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine.

And her fingers carefully brush through the front end of his fringe, and Danny. Danny is so normal about it. He doesn’t even cry or anything. Not even in front of his friend’s stinky dad.

And she doesn’t do it like Mom did it. And she doesn’t ruffle his hair like Dad did.

But it’s. Nice. And she doesn’t pull.

…And she doesn’t hit.

Danny eventually leans back into his wheelchair. It’s a little bit embarrassing to be halfway in and halfway out, but. Whatever. The scary-looking-dad with the earsies on his helmet has his own teenager. He should understand what it feels like to get emotionally weird with your teen in a public place. If he doesn’t, well...he wouldn’t be a great dad, then, and his opinion would suck anyway.

Based on what Danny knows about the masked kid, Danny isn’t sure the guy would tolerate a bad dad. The teen seems kinda unhinged.

The man says something, and the green guy presses a number of translated feelings against Danny’s awareness: Greetings. Questions about Danny’s wellbeing. Curiosity, but not demanding.

“…Hello,” Danny says back, and. Waves.

The man waves back. He’s got little claws on his gloves.

…Like a cat? Is it to go with his ears? Danny wonders about the possibilities of the guy being cat themed. It’s possible, presumably.

So…they want to know how Danny’s doing? Danny shrugs, and he glances at Diana, since, you know, she could probably fill them in? She does speak their language. And she’s been here the whole time.

The lady leans in close to him, black hair falling out from behind her ear. “What do you want to say?” she whispers into her ear, hand covering her mouth from their watchers.

Uh. It’s up to…Danny?? Somehow??

Danny winces. “…Good?” he tries, unsure if the word he uses means okay or fine or well. “…Not…hungry?”

“Very good,” Diana agrees, a little louder. She looks proud. Being not hungry must mean a lot to her, then. It means a lot to Danny too—he can remember the sensation of his stomach rubbing against itself, friction pulling raw at his insides as acid ate at him.

It was. Bad.

It was bad.

Danny’s glad he’s not there anymore. Anyway, there’s a guy in the room who reads minds, and Danny doesn’t really want to share that memory with anyone ever; especially someone who could turn it back on him.

The stinky dad says something else, but he uses words too thick and long for Danny to understand. The green guy translates, pure conceptual recall brushing against Danny’s outer aura—Needs? Wants?

…Danny frowns.

Danny looks at Diana, who looks back at him. Wants, needs…? What?

“Do you need aniþing?” Diana whispers to him, which. You know. Mostly makes sense.

Does Danny…need anything? He has medical care, he has food, he has water, he has toys and brain teasers, even…he has people to hang out with, he has people who stretch his legs with him so that he can go back to normal…heck, he doesn’t even have to clean his own waste bag. There’s people who do that for him.

Like. What more could Danny ask for?

Danny shrugs. He just wants to heal up and run away. Maybe…maybe, if Diana is real and not just pretending to like him to keep an eye on him, she’d let him visit her later or something. Danny would do what Dani doe—did. What Dani…did. And he’d just go a bunch of places and come back when he wants to.

But. No. There’s nothing he really needs right now.

The pointy-eared guy and the green guy share a look and a couple quiet words. Danny flares his annoyance into the silence, but all he gets is a silent Apology/Apology, which isn’t answers.

Ugh. Danny leans over the arm of his wheelchair. This is kind of super boring; it’s more boring than it is frustrating, even.

The stinky dad guy says something else, and Danny feels the push and pull of something double ended tugging on the outer edge of his aura. Additional/information, giving/take?

Danny really wishes he’d brought a fidget toy or something. His nerves are ramping up but all he can do is contort his fingers together, feeling the strain in and the joints click as he pushes them together and twists them apart. They want…to ask him questions? No, they’re already asking him questions. They want Danny to…give them questions??

…Danny doesn’t really want to. Still, he probably…should.

“The…space station,” he says, using the wrong word for their big space building but not knowing the better one; “Is this…where…why is it?”

The black-caped dad grumbles something vaguely approving. A tablet pops out of the table—spooky—and the guy starts drawing on it, explaining all the way. The green guy simplifies more of the verbally complicated concepts for Danny as they go.

Anyway. So they’re in space because it’s their…job? Danny thinks? They do…fighting stuff. Which Danny knew. Because he’d seen them on the news.

But it looks like they do a lot of things—they clean up after storms, and chase regular bad guys and super-bad-guys instead of just big ones. And they stop bad aliens from hurting people on Earth.

The green guy shifts from a green-looking, pointy-headed, red-eyed form to a warm, brown, human skin tone. And even. Like. Human clothing.

Danny stares.

…And the guy immediately takes back his natural form, his body physically shifting and morphing, which, fair, but holy crap. He’s living, on Earth. He passes as normal, on Earth. No one snitches on him. No one’s selling him to the government for parts. No one’s trapping him in a cage and not feeding him.

This guy works here, and everyone lets him.

Danny shifts in his chair. He…he wants that. He wants that. He wants to pass as human and not have to worry about…about anyone getting rid of him. He wants to go back to school. He wants to hide, and never ever not ever be found by anyone or anything when he does.

“I want that,” Danny says. There’s no inflection. He feels dead. He is dead, but usually he doesn’t feel it. “What do I do for…that.”

Help/Searching/Finding? the green—alien—questions, but there’s nothing for Danny to find. He knows exactly where everyone he loves is—and unless they’re already fully formed in the ghost zone…

…Well. Danny has forever to wait and see if he’ll see his friends and sister again. Maybe he’ll find them again one day, in a world purely green and glowing.

He shakes his head.

The next question comes…softer. Gentler. The mental push feels more like a breeze than a gale. Friends…Home/family?

The question comes tinged with all sorts of sensations that Danny’s suppressed—warmth, security, happiness, oxytocin, fondness, pride and being the source thereof, warmth and love, love, love—

Danny’s sweating. He can’t stop. His hands are shaking faster than usual—he kicks the brakes off his chair with the heels of his palms, and jerks the wheels back, pulling away from the desk—

He’s halfway across the room before he hears the noise. It’s just. Noise. It’s Diana, carefully shushing the loud heartbeat churning in his ears, hands on his hand, trying not to cage him but trying to keep skin on skin contact. Her hand is on the back of his hand, and on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Diana whispers. Danny’s shaking. His whole body is shaking. “Shhh, sh sh sh. It’s alright, it’s okay.”

It’s not it’s not it’snoit’snotit’sNOT. His sister is dead. His friends are dead. His parents sold his captors the equipment to catch him and they didn’t care if he got hurt doing it and now they’re DEAD. They tore open his hometown down the middle just to catch him, they stole him—they took his dead parent’s things as tools to hurt him—they HURT HIM and there isn’t—he can’t—he can’t—

Something is holding him down, and Danny thrashes. He has arms, but they’re injured—he has legs but he needs a tail and he—and—

He cries into Diana’s arms, sobbing and wailing. It’s a miracle that the building stays together. She holds him tighter, and he cries even harder into her soft under-layers.

He wants to run away. He needs to run away. Someone is holding him, and he can’t even flicker through her the way he wants to; his core is already too strained just from talking.

Danny’s sick. He’s dying. He’s—

“Take a breath,” Diana whispers, calm and sure. She models it for him. Danny gasps in air. “Good. Lete it out slow. As bobbels in a straw.”

He tries to copy her he does and she’ll be so angry if he can’t do it right on the first try but she lets him try, over and over again, until Danny’s able to stop hiccupping and leaking tears and ectoplasm all over her and realize that she’s holding him like a baby. Like. Actually cradling him against his body armor.

…You know what. He’s too tired to even be embarrassed. Screw that. Danny leans all the way over her and goes completely limp. Someone else can deal with his him for a little bit.

She does. Diana just…holds him.

It’s nice. Mom and Dad used to do that for him, when Danny was still…more human, he supposed. More than he is right now.

Something else touches his hand. Danny looks blearily downwards.

The teenager’s dad gets to his knees and takes Danny’s hand—and he doesn’t need the translation to understand.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks sleepily. What does his friend’s stinky dad have to be sorry for? He didn’t even do anything to Danny in the first place.

Danny won’t remember, afterwards, being wheeled back to his room for a nap. They must have wheeled him back, though, because the alternative is that Diana tucked him into bed like a baby, and that’s just kind of embarrassing to even think about for too long.

[wonderjanga]

This is an Intervention

The JL have a serious concern about Marvel. This is because the man doesn’t know when to put down the bottle. Like, at a bar, he’ll just keep drinking and drinking and drinking without a care in the world. The man doesn’t show restraint in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Billy thinks nothing of this because he doesn’t actually know how much adults can drink without literally dying of alcohol poisoning. There’s also the fact that his Marvel form can’t get drunk so down and down the drinks go.

Their final straw was when they were all at a bar and Marvel was just downing shot after shot like it was nothing.

GL: “Uh… Cap? Why don’t you cool it on the shots?” *sounds nervous because how was Marvel doing that without even flinching*

Flash: “Yeah, man. Are you okay? We don’t want to have to carry you back to the Watchtower.”

Marvel: *looks genuinely confused* “Why would you have to do that?”

Speaking of which, despite being the person who drinks the most out of all of them, and that’s no joke, he out drank both Diana and Arthur, he somehow is always the person carrying drunk people back to the tower. He’s also the person who drives whenever Bruce wasn’t there, which now that they think about was extremely stupid to let Marvel do. It’s not even that he’s a bad driver or carrier. It’s just that the man drinks a lot.

Anyways, the point is, Marvel has a problem. A big one. So, as his friends, the JL wants to help in anyway possible. That includes staging an intervention for their friend.

Marvel: *walks into the meeting room, whistling a little tune*

JL: *sitting at the meeting table all looking solemn or grim*

Marvel: “Uh… Hey guys?” *awkward wave when he notices the tension*

Supes: “Marvel, could you sit down with us?”

Marvel: “…Sure?” *hesitantly sits down*

Supes: “Marvel… we called this meeting because we had something to discuss with you.”

Marvel: *looks slightly horrified because he thinks they know about Billy* “Is this you kicking me out of the league?”

Supes: “Wha- No! No, of course not! Look it’s just- Marvel, we’ve come here today because of another problem.”

Marvel: “Oh.” *relaxes slightly* “And that is?”

Aquaman: “Your drinking problem.”

Marvel: *looks extremely confused* “Drinking problem? I don’t have a drinking problem.”

GL: “Eh… Yeah you do, man. Look, there’s no need to feel ashamed or anything like that. We just want you to get help.”

Black Canary: “I can give you the number of a therapist who works in group therapy sessions specifically for alcoholics.”

Marvel: “That’s nice Canary, but I’m still not an alcoholic!”

He ended up going there anyways to appease them .

Marvel: “Well, I guess whenever I just pick up the bottle, I can’t stop. I’m a social drinker though. I only really do it around people.”

Therapist: “Yes, Mark.” (That name’s a reference to this post from a really really long time ago) “Everyone here is and or was a social drinker too. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged that you struggle to put down the bottle. That’s some good progress.” *writes in little notepad*

By progress, he means the fact that Billy adamantly denied that he was an alcoholic, which again, he wasn’t, but just decided to go along with it to get these group sessions over with.

[basementloser]

I would've loved an episode in which Danny and Dash switch bodies.

I imagine it happens because Dash is talking to Kwan about how cool Phantom is or something, and at some point he says "Man, I wish I was Danny Phantom!"

Of course Desiree hears this, she appears before him ("So you have wished it, so shall it be!"), and the next day Dash wakes up in Danny's body. Danny Fenton's body. In Danny's room.

At this point he's pretty familiar with Desiree, and he assumes she just heard him wrong, befause Fenton and Phantom do sound alike. ("Huh, how weird! How has no one noticed this before?" We hear Wes screaming in the distance as Dash makes this observation.)

But there is no way in hell that a puny little nerd like Fenton could be Dash's hero, so something must've gone wrong. He decides to find Desiree and correct his wish.

-

Meanwhile, Danny (to his horror) wakes up in Dash's body.

He assumes he overshadowed him for some reason, but when he tries to leave, he finds out he doesn't have his powers. He also doesn't feel Dash's presence in the body.

"I know i asked for a growth spurt, but not like this!"

This isn't good.

-

Dash makes his way downstairs, and is immediately greeted by Jack Fenton, who has a million chores for him.

"Come on, Danno! Those ghosts I fished out of the ghost zone with the Fenton Ghost Fisher™️ aren't gonna put themselves back!"

Before he can object he is pushed into the lab and has to fight a couple of ectopusses. This goes very badly at first, until Dash remembers the bit of ghost hunting training Danny gave him and his classmates, when they had to rescue their parents from that big pirate ship.

As soon as he's done, exhausted on the floor (Damn, Fenton really needs to work out more!), he hears Jack yelling down the stairs.

"Son, don't forget to change the ecto filtrator! You don't want Amity Park to blow up, do ya?"

More dangerous chores keep getting added for longer than Dash thought was humanly possible.

(At some point Jack gave him some fudge, which helped.)

How does Fenton live like this???

-

We switch back over to Danny, who is now looking around Dash's room. He already knew about the cute pink teddy bear collection, but he didn't expect to find what can only be described as a fan shrine to Phantom.

There are newspaper articles, pictures, merch ("Wait I have merch? How come i didn't know that? Who is selling Phantom merch?" it's Tucker), and a poster.

(the b-story of this episode is Sam & Tucker running a Phantom merch line, and trying to stop the Box Ghost from stealing all the boxes of merch.)

Danny keeps looking around Dash's room, and finding out more about him through his stuff.

At some point he finds Dash's diary. He contemplates if he should read it or not, but in the end he decides that since Dash is always such a jerk to him, he doesn't care about morals and reads it.

Reading the diary, Danny starts to feel kinda bad, because in the entries Dash actually seems human. He's insecure, and he actually struggles with a lot. He's afraid to talk about what he's going through.

His parents are very absent, and the A-listers kicked Valerie out when her life wasn't perfect anymore. He doesn't want that to happen to him.

(I personally headcanon Dash as an extremely closeted gay guy with a lot of internalised homophobia, who hasn't stopped trying to convince himself that he's straight, but his struggles could be about anything.)

After reading all that, Danny starts to feel kinda bad for him.

-

Over the course of the day ghosts keep showing up to fight or talk to Fenton, and Dash is incredibly confused by this. Also Danny must have a weird cold or something, because he's been exhaling cold air at random all day.

"I AM THE BOX GHO- Hey! Wait! Why are you running away? You never run away. You always trap me in your cylindrical contraption of doOoOoOm!" (The Box Ghost is wearing a Phantom t-shirt, and is holding a box full of other Phantom merch. After Dash runs away, Sam and Tucker appear, chasing the Box Ghost through the street, trying to get the merch back.)

Later Johnny 13 shows up to fight, because he and Kitty broke up for the 4th time this week, and he wants to let out some steam. "Shouldn't you change for our fight, kid?" Change into what? Wait he wanted to fight, right? Dash puts on his gym uniform, and boxing gloves. Johnny looks at him weird, but doesn't question it. They have a little boxing match in the backyard.

Youngblood came by to play astronauts with him, and was very disappointed that Danny didn't fly up to space with him. (Wait didn't that dead kid kidnap Dash's parents??! Also why in the hell does he think Fenton has the ability to fly?????!! And breathe(!) in space?!!!)

After finishing what seems like a billion ghost related chores (and dealing with way too many ghosts), Dash finally manages to get out of the Fenton house, and starts to look for Desiree.

-

Danny walks out of Dash's room, and runs into Dash's dad. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't seem to care about what he's going to say. "Son I am so incredibly disappointed in you." the dad starts, then continues to list all the reasons he is a huge disappointment who should try harder. "Those weird little bears in your closet!" and "Why don't you have a girlfriend yet?"

The whole interaction is horrible, and makes Danny appreciate his own parents (weird as they may be) so much.

Dash's mom also berates him about being a disappointment, because they found his Phantom collection ("He is a GHOST, Dash! He's dangerous!"), and because his grades are so low. ("What do you mean tutor? Just study harder!")

They threaten to take Pookie away if he doesn't get his shit together.

-

At some point Danny has deduced that this body situation must be some ghost bullshit, and he decides to go to Fentonworks.

Then he runs into Dash in his body, and they have a little spiderman moment

After the internal shock and "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BODY GET OUT!"s have gone around, Dash tells Danny what happened.

Danny informs Dash that most of Desiree's wishes become permanent after 24 hours. They decide to team up to get Desiree to undo this wish before that happens.

It's noted that Dash didn't say the word "puny" or any other insult, when he says "I really don't wanna stay in your body.".

We see a compilation of Danny and Dash searching Amity Park for Desiree, and other wishes she has granted. They fight off a couple of small ghost things together.

(during this compilation we see Sam and Tucker chasing the Box Ghost around. "How is he this hard to catch?? We've done this millions of times already!!!" -"Well maybe if you didn't drop the fucking thermos!")

After the fight, Dash sighs and says "Man, I had no idea how difficult your life is, Fenton. I've only been living it a day and it sucks."

they have a little heart to heart, and Dash sincerely apologises for bullying Danny so much.

"why did you want to be Phantom anyway? I assume his life isn't that easy either." Danny says.

"I dunno, man. I just thought it would be cool to be, y'know, going ghost."

White rings appear around Dash. He turns into Phantom.

they have another moment like this:

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"I"M- I- YOU- YOU'RE PHANTOM??!!!"

"NO! YES! NO TIME! FIGHT HER!!!"

Because of course, this is the moment that Desiree appears, and starts fighting them.

"I dont know how!!!"

The beginning of the fight is very awkward, with Dash not knowing how Danny's powers work, and Danny not being used to fighting Desiree without his powers.

Eventually they get the hang of it, with Danny telling Dash how to activate and use certain powers in the moment, and they defeat Desiree.

All the wishes get undone, and they suck her up into a thermos.

After that, they talk about Danny being Phantom. Danny tells Dash the story of how he died got his powers, and Dash shares some of his secrets with Danny so they're "even". (it's some stuff that wasn't in Dash's diary. Danny doesn't mention that he read that, but that can be conflict in a later episode)

They aren't friends yet, but it's a start. Now that he walked a mile in Danny's shoes, Dash feels so bad about bullying him all those years, and he starts to question his life choices. (start of a Dash redemption arc i guess). He promises to stop bullying in general, and help out Danny however he can. (He also promises to not tell anyone about Danny's secret identity.)

(The episode ends with Sam and Tucker, having finally caught the Box Ghost, only to realise that in the chase/fight all the merch got way too messed up to sell, so it was all for nothing. Tucker throws the thermos down in frustration, the Box Ghost gets free, grabs the Phantom shirt he wore earlier, yells "BEWARE!" and flies off. Sam sighs and gets ready to start chasing him again, but Tucker stops her. "I give up. Let him have the fucking shirt.")

[itendtothinkalot]

mr oh so popular (grumpy x sunshine ish)

summary: your life has always been pretty normal—nothing too exciting, just the usual. but then, bam! you walk past the campus heartthrob, yeonjun, only to find him face down on the ground, knocked out cold. and of course, your best friend insists on dragging him home to nurse him back to health. but here's the twist—why is he not as awful as you thought he'd be???

genre: flluff

characters: yeonjun x f!reader, best friend!beomgyu

words: 14k

warnings: period talk i guess, cuss words

There’s something magical about walking across campus at night. It’s quiet, the stars are out, and the looming stress of exams feels a little less crushing. Well, until your best friend opens his mouth.

“You know, if I had superpowers, I’d probably choose invisibility,” Beomgyu declared, waving a half-eaten popsicle like a scepter.

“That’s unoriginal,” you said, kicking a stray pebble across the pavement. “What’s the point of invisibility anyway?”

“Uh, everything? Sneaking into movie theaters. Skipping boring lectures. Spying on people to see what they say about me—”

You stopped walking and shot him a look. “Beomgyu, no one is talking about you. Or me. We're invisible enough.”

Beomgyu groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Speak for yourself. I am not invisible.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to prove it. Right on cue, the sounds of cheering and laughter erupted from the quad, where a small crowd had gathered.

“Case in point.” Beomgyu pointed toward the commotion. At the center of it all, like a deity holding court, was none other than Choi Yeonjun.

There he was, perched on a bench, his grin brighter than the lampposts around him. Someone had thrown a varsity jacket over his shoulders, and it only made him look more cool (which you would never admit to anyone). People hung on his every word, laughing at jokes that probably weren’t even funny. Typical.

Beomgyu sighed, pointing at the popular male. “Y’know what, I changed my answer! That’s the kind of power I’d want. Not invisibility—charisma.”

You scoffed. “Charisma isn’t a superpower.”

“Tell that to him.” Beomgyu jabbed his popsicle stick in Yeonjun’s direction, where he’d just effortlessly flipped a water bottle, earning cheers like he’d just solved world hunger.

“Ugh.” You groaned, grabbing Beomgyu’s sleeve to pull him away before he started gawking in public. “I don’t get the hype. He’s not even that hot.”

“Not even that hot?” Beomgyu scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you have to admit he’s objectively good-looking. Like, the guy could model for a skincare commercial. Dude’s poreless.”

“Sure, if you’re into guys who have a cardboard personality” you muttered.

Beomgyu snorted. “I’m just saying, there’s a reason half the campus follows him around like lost puppies. He’s got charisma or… something.”

“Well, good for him,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Meanwhile, the rest of us are just trying to survive finals week without a parade every time we turn in a paper.”

Here’s the thing about you two: You’d like to think you’re invisible to the student body, but that’s only half true. You’re invisible. Beomgyu, on the other hand, is doing just fine socially. Not popular, but just cool enough to get invited to parties and group chats. And yet, here he was, sticking to you like glue.

He calls it loyalty. You call it his inability to let go. Not that you minded. You loved him as much as he loved you.

Listen, you weren’t considered lame. You weren’t “unpopular”. You just… never stood out. Regular clothes. Regular reputation. Just… regular. It didn’t bother you most of the time. But when you stood next to Beomgyu—who, on his worst day, could still charm an entire room—it was hard not to feel like his boring sidekick.

“You know what your problem is?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm, let me guess,” you said dryly. “I don’t appreciate Yeonjun enough?”

“Well, yeah, but also, you don’t try to stand out. Like, at all. Maybe if you wore something other than jeans and that same hoodie every day—”

“It’s comfortable,” you snapped, defensively tugging at your hoodie.

“Comfortable doesn’t get you noticed,” Beomgyu countered, skipping ahead of you and turning to walk backward so he could wag his finger at you. “Look, you’re pretty but you’re always–”

“Gyu. I don’t want to be noticed,” you muttered, but your protest was drowned out by a sudden loud cheer coming from the quad.

Both of you turned instinctively. Of course, it was Yeonjun again, grinning like a celebrity as someone snapped a picture of him doing… I don’t know, something amazing. He could probably sneeze and get a standing ovation.

Beomgyu sighed dramatically. “Dude, just look at him”

You groaned and kept walking. “Let’s just get back to the apartment before you write him a fan letter.”

Beomgyu chuckled but didn’t argue.

—

“Crap.”

The word slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. Beomgyu, who had been sprawled across the couch scrolling on his phone, glanced over at you with a raised brow.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, not even bothering to sit up.

“I think…” you trailed off, your face already flushing with embarrassment. “Ugh. I think I just got my period.”

Beomgyu blinked at you for a solid three seconds before casually returning his gaze to his phone. “So? Deal with it like you always do.”

“I can’t!” you snapped, flailing your arms. “I’m out of everything. Pads. Tampons. Literally everything.”

“Okay…?” He looked at you blankly, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Okay? Beomgyu, this is an emergency. We need to go to the convenience store. Now.”

“We?” he repeated, his voice laced with protest. “Why do I have to come? You can go by yourself. You’re a fully functioning human with feet and hands.”

You shot him a glare, “Because I don’t want to walk there alone in the middle of the night, and you’re supposed to be my best friend. Remember? Loyalty and all that BS.”

He groaned dramatically, dragging his hands down his face. “This is not what I signed up for..”

“Oh, please. Like you’re doing anything important.” You gestured to his phone. “Come on, Beomgyu. You’re being useless, as always.”

“That’s Mr. Useless to you,” he grumbled, but he finally sat up, grabbing his jacket off the armrest. “Fine. Let’s go. But I’m not carrying anything embarrassing.”

“You’re carrying the basket,” you said, already grabbing your own jacket.

“What—? Hey! No way! You’re just gonna fill it up with feminine products and egh…”

The walk to the convenience store wasn’t too long, but Beomgyu made sure to complain the entire way.

“Why can’t you just stockpile this stuff like a normal person?” he whined, dragging his feet as you power-walked ahead of him.

“Why can’t you just shut up and help me?” you shot back.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store were a welcome relief. You beelined for the feminine products aisle while Beomgyu lingered by the snacks, pretending he wasn’t with you.

“CHOI BEOMGYU!” You called him over. 

He looked up as if embarrassed to be around you, “Don’t use my maiden name in public like this!”

“Hurry up!” you called over your shoulder.

He reluctantly shuffled over, standing awkwardly next to you as you scanned the shelves. “Do you really need me for this?”

“Yes, because if I faint from blood loss, someone needs to carry me out,” you said dramatically, grabbing a pack of pads and throwing it into his arms.

He caught it, holding it like it was a live grenade. “Why am I holding this?”

“Because you’re the basket now,” you said, grabbing another pack just in case.

“Oh my god, wait—why is this, like, 16 inches?” Beomgyu asked, holding up a pack of pads like it was radioactive. His eyes were wide with genuine horror. “How big is your vagina?”

You shot him a deadpan look. “I don’t see you complaining when you’re telling me stories about you and your girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend!” he corrected, practically shouting. “And I told you not to bring her up.”

“Oh, please. You’ll be calling her tomorrow, begging her to take you back. Like you always do.”

“I’ve matured since our breakup,” he insisted, puffing out his chest in mock dignity.

“You broke up yesterday.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically, letting his arms go limp, the packs of feminine products dangling helplessly. “I don’t get paid enough for this friendship.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” you reminded him, already walking toward the register.

“And that is the problem,” he muttered under his breath, trailing after you with the enthusiasm of a kid being dragged to the dentist.

At the register, the cashier barely blinked at the assortment of items Beomgyu dumped onto the counter, but he was already bracing himself for humiliation.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered to you through gritted teeth as the cashier scanned the pads.

“I wasn’t going to,” you replied innocently, though you couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu glared at you, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.

As the cashier handed over the bag, Beomgyu grabbed it like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Let’s go. Now.”

The walk back was surprisingly quiet—at least until Beomgyu couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I feel like I’ve just leveled up as a person. Like, this is a huge character development for me. I should probably put ‘Women’s Rights Activist’ on my Tinder profile.”

You snorted, shifting the bag in your arms. “Right…because you didn’t just complain the whole time we were in there.”

“I’ve changed…I am in fact the world’s best Female Supporter. Write that down.” he declared, nudging your shoulder.

“You’re not right but not wrong either,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “But don’t flatter yourself too much. You’re just barely tolerable to the female specimen.”

“Admit that I’m an amazing best friend though,” he said, flashing you a grin. “You’d be lost without me.”

“You’re right,” you conceded, smirking as you turned the corner toward your apartment complex. “Who else would I drag into my nonsense?”

He threw his arms out dramatically, like some tragic hero in a play. “Exactly. I’m basically a saint. Carrying the weight of this friendship on my—”

He froze mid-sentence, and you almost bumped into him.

“Can’t you see where you’re going, you noob?” you groaned, peeking around him—and stopped dead in your tracks.

Right there, sprawled across the pavement in front of the building like a very poorly placed mannequin, was none other than Yeonjun, the school’s King himself.

“Is… is he dead?” Beomgyu whispered, clutching your arm in a panic.

“Why would you say that?!” you hissed, smacking his hand away.

“He’s not moving! Look at him!”

And he wasn’t. Yeonjun, campus royalty and the undisputed king of cool, was lying face down in the middle of the pathway. His designer sneakers were scuffed, his shirt was wrinkled, and his golden hair was sticking up in about twenty different directions.

“We should call someone,” you muttered, reaching for your phone.

Before you could dial, Yeonjun stirred, groaning like something out of a zombie movie. Beomgyu yelped and practically jumped behind you.

“He’s alive!” Beomgyu whisper-shouted, like that made things any less terrifying.

“Barely, he’s drunk like hell.” you muttered.

And then it happened. Yeonjun pushed himself up on shaky arms, blinked at you both with bleary, unfocused eyes… and promptly threw up all over the pavement.

Both of you screamed.

—

You knew Choi Beomgyu was going to be the death of you one day. He was too kind for his own good, and you were convinced that if an armed robber ever needed help, Beomgyu would probably assist them without realizing the situation. He was nice. Too nice.

“I still don’t see why we had to help him,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the kitchen doorway.

“He was lying on the ground in the middle of the night,” Beomgyu said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“And?” you countered. “Maybe his friends ditched him for a reason. Ever think about that? What if it’s some kind of prank?”

“It’s 12 AM, not exactly prank o’clock,” Beomgyu replied, filling the glass with water. “I’ll grab him some painkillers. Just keep an eye on him, okay?”

“Why do I have to stay with him? What if he wakes up and murders me?” you protested.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Beomgyu said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s barely conscious. Relax.”

And with that, Beomgyu disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with the stranger.

You turned your gaze to Yeonjun, sprawled out on the couch like some tragic hero from a drama. His disheveled hair framed a face that was undeniably handsome, even with the faint scent of alcohol still lingering in the air. At least Beomgyu had cleaned him up and changed him out of his puke-soaked clothes into something fresh.

With hesitant steps, you approached him, unable to resist examining his face more closely. He looked peaceful like this, his breathing steady.

Then his eyes fluttered open.

You screamed, stumbling back.

“Whoa, whoa!” Yeonjun groaned, holding up a hand as if to shield himself from your outburst. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” you snapped, heart racing. “You’re the one who just woke up like a zombie in the middle of the night!”

Yeonjun winced, pressing a hand to his temple. “Can you not yell? Feels like my head’s splitting in two.”

You froze, unsure of what to do. Beomgyu had left you alone with this stranger, and now he was awake and talking. Great. 

“Where… am I?” Yeonjun croaked, his voice hoarse.

“Our apartment,” you replied curtly, motioning to the space around him. “You passed out on the street like an idiot. Beomgyu thought it’d be fun to drag you here instead of letting you rot out there like a normal person would.”

Yeonjun blinked, the name striking a faint chord in his alcohol-muddled mind. “Beomgyu?” he repeated, the syllables sluggish on his tongue.

“That’s me!” Beomgyu chimed as he entered the room, balancing a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of painkillers in the other. He grinned at Yeonjun, his usual sunny demeanor unbothered by the tension. “Hey, glad you’re awake! Here, drink this.”

Yeonjun looked between the two of you, his confusion deepening. “Wait… you both found me on the floor of…where?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu replied cheerfully, handing over the water and pills. “You were passed out outside the convenience store. We couldn’t just leave you there.”

“We could’ve,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu ignored you and focused on Yeonjun. “You didn’t look like you were in any shape to get home on your own, so we brought you here.”

Yeonjun hesitated, taking the glass of water with an awkward nod. “Thanks, I guess… but, uh, do I know you guys?”

“I’m Beomgyu,” Beomgyu answered, flashing a smile. He gestured toward you, introducing you. “Pretty sure we share a few classes.”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, clearly unimpressed.

Yeonjun squinted, his mind struggling to place you both. “Yeah, you do look kind of familiar…”

“Kind of?” you scoffed. “Unbelievable. You pass out drunk, and now you can’t even remember who dragged you off the sidewalk. Typical.”

“Don’t mind her,” Beomgyu said, brushing off your snarky tone. “She’s just cranky because it’s past her bedtime.”

You shot him a glare. “Cranky because you invited a total stranger into our apartment without asking. Much less one that reeks of alcohol.”

Yeonjun, still processing everything, shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “So… this is your apartment? Like, you two live together?”

“Obviously,” you replied. “Welcome to our apartment. We’re kind of like Good Samaritans. Except I’m not.”

Yeonjun let out a weak laugh, unsure if he should be offended or amused. “Well, uh… thanks, I guess. I owe you one?”

“You owe me nothing,” you said with a smirk. “But you owe Beomgyu. Big time.”

Beomgyu chuckled, waving off the comment. “Just rest for now. Drink the water and take the painkillers. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Yeonjun nodded, sipping the water slowly. He couldn’t help but notice the way Beomgyu’s easy-going warmth contrasted sharply with your sharp tongue. Despite the headache and the awkward situation, a strange comfort crept into his chest.

“I’ll try to remember this,” Yeonjun muttered with a faint smile.

“You better,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Because if this happens again, I’m leaving you on the sidewalk next time.”

Beomgyu just laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to her. She acts tough, but she’s nice deep down.”

“Deep, deep down,” you corrected.

Yeonjun chuckled despite himself. He had no idea how he ended up here, but something told him this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw the two of you.

You had gone to bed, hoping the night would pass quickly so you could finally deal with the unexpected guest in your living room. Helping people wasn’t the issue—you just hated helping those who didn’t seem to need it. Besides the fact he was piss drunk in the middle of the night after what seems like a frat party…seems like a life choice. 

But sleep wouldn’t come. You’d been tossing and turning for over an hour, and Beomgyu’s loud snores echoed through the paper-thin walls of your apartment. With a groan of frustration, you gave up and decided to warm some milk, an old remedy that usually worked.

As you shuffled toward the kitchen, you noticed Yeonjun sitting on the couch, hunched over his phone, scrolling aimlessly. You hesitated, torn between retreating to avoid interaction or saying something. Socializing wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and starting a conversation felt like scaling a mountain.

Before you could decide, Yeonjun broke the silence.

“What do girls mean when they say they want a break?” he asked, turning to look at you.

Caught off guard, you paused mid-step, clutching the mug in your hand. For a moment, you considered ignoring the question entirely. But the earnest look in his eyes made it hard to brush him off.

You sighed, setting your mug on the counter as you leaned against the kitchen doorway. "That’s... a loaded question," you replied cautiously, eyeing him. "Depends on the girl, I guess. What’s the context?"

Yeonjun let out a soft, bitter laugh and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in messy tufts. "My girlfriend said she needed a break. No explanation, no real reason. Just… ‘I think we should take a break.’ What’s that even supposed to mean?"

You tilted your head, considering his words. "Could mean a lot of things," you said, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge. "Maybe she’s overwhelmed. Maybe she’s bored. Or maybe she wants to break up but doesn’t want to say it outright."

His face fell, and you immediately regretted the bluntness.

"Sorry," you added quickly, pouring the milk into your mug. "I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just… it’s better to be honest about what it could mean, right?"

Yeonjun leaned back against the couch, his phone forgotten in his lap. "Yeah, I guess. But I don’t get it. I thought everything was fine between us. We didn’t even fight. It came out of nowhere."

You turned on the stove, the faint hum of the burner filling the silence as you stirred the milk absently. "Sometimes it’s not about fighting," you said after a pause. "Sometimes people just… drift. Or they need time to figure things out. Doesn’t mean it’s your fault."

He stared at the ceiling, his jaw tightening. "It feels like it is, though. Like maybe I wasn’t enough."

You frowned, feeling an unfamiliar pang of sympathy. This wasn’t your usual realm of expertise, but seeing him so dejected tugged at something in you.

"You know," you started, glancing at him, "if she really cares about you, she’ll come back. And if she doesn’t, well… maybe she wasn’t the right person anyway."

Yeonjun turned his head to look at you, a faint, almost sad smile playing on his lips. "You sound like you’ve been through this before."

You snorted, turning back to your milk. "Not at all. I’m just good at reading people. Comes with the territory of being socially inept."

That earned you a soft chuckle, and the sound surprised you. It was the first time he’d laughed all night.

"Thanks," he said after a moment, his voice quieter. "For not sugarcoating it."

You shrugged, pulling the mug off the burner and pouring the warm milk into your cup. "Anytime. But don’t expect me to turn into a therapist or anything."

He nodded, his smile growing a little stronger. "Got it. No therapy sessions… just unsolicited midnight wisdom."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at your lips.

“You want some?” you asked, pouring another glass of warm milk.

Yeonjun nodded, leaning back against the couch. “If you’d let me.”

“I asked, didn’t I?” You slid the glass toward him, the faint clink breaking the quiet.

He smiled as he took it. “Thanks. You know, now that I’m more sober, you’re actually a lot less scary than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Scary? You thought I was scary?”

“Well,” he began, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, “I was drunk, passed out, and your initial idea was to leave me on the street.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “The drunk thing seems to be on your own accord, so… not really my problem if you ended up like that, now is it?”

Yeonjun chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re brutally honest, aren’t you?”

“Only to people who can take it.”

“And you think I can?”

“People are probably telling you every day how much they love you or want to be with you,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact. “I figure you can handle a couple of reality checks once in a while.”

Yeonjun blinked, then smirked. “Oh, so you pay attention to me?”

“It’s literally hard not to,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You’ve got a whole posse everyone looks up to on campus. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee. “Huh. And here I thought I was invisible to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not invisible, just… irrelevant. Until now.”

He laughed at that, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Wow. You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“Why would I? You asked.” You sipped your milk nonchalantly, but you couldn’t help noticing the glimmer of genuine amusement in his gaze.

“Well,” he said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here’s to being ‘less irrelevant.’”

You huffed out a quiet laugh despite yourself. “Don’t push your luck.”

“And if it counts for something,” Yeonjun added, his tone softening, “I really liked your speech last term. The one at the student rally—about climate change?”

You froze mid-sip, staring at him. “What?”

“It was you, right?” he pressed, tilting his head slightly. “You organized the whole thing?”

Your mind raced. No one had ever given you credit for the rally before. Most people either didn’t notice or assumed someone else was behind it. It wasn’t that you did it for recognition, but hearing Yeonjun bring it up left you momentarily speechless.

“Yeah,” you said finally, setting your mug down. “That was me.”

Yeonjun nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I thought so. It was really good. You had everyone paying attention, and I don’t just mean your speech. The whole event—it felt… important. You made it feel important.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Compliments, especially about something you’d poured so much effort into, weren’t exactly something you were used to.

“Well,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, “it’s not like I did it alone. There was a team.”

“Sure,” he said, his smile widening slightly, “but teams still need someone to lead them. And that was you, wasn’t it?”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, the usual sarcasm you armed yourself with felt unnecessary.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “That means… something.”

Yeonjun studied you for a moment before his smirk returned. “See? You’re not as scary as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, the gesture felt lighter. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he teased, raising his glass to take another sip of the milk. “I think I might be warming up to you.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you turned back toward the kitchen. “Good luck with that.”

—

The next morning, when you woke up, Yeonjun was already gone. On the coffee table, he’d left a note and, for some reason, a $10 bill. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face. You weren’t running a hostel, that was for sure.

Beomgyu wandered into the living room, rubbing his eyes, and picked up the note. “Ten bucks?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Does he think we’re a bed and breakfast for broke drunk kids? Also, why couldn’t it be a twenty?”

“What a switch-up from the ass-kisser last night,” you teased, grabbing the note from his hand.

“I couldn’t taint my image in front of campus royalty himself,” Beomgyu shot back, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, already heading toward the bathroom. “We’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass ready.”

As Beomgyu disappeared to get dressed, you glanced at the note again.

Thanks for the milk and the reality check. Maybe see you both on campus sometime?

It was signed with a small doodle of a smiley face, and you couldn’t help but shake your head. 

Later that day, as you rushed through the crowded hallways of campus, you spotted Yeonjun. He was surrounded by his usual group, his laugh ringing out above the chatter. For a moment, his eyes met yours across the sea of students. He nodded before turning away.

Typical. 

You knew nothing would be different. One night and a single conversation didn’t change anything, especially with someone like Yeonjun. It wasn’t as if his whole life hinged on that brief interaction. You and Beomgyu took your usual seats in the corner of the campus café, bantering like you always did.

You were mid-laugh at one of Beomgyu’s dramatic impressions when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with Yeonjun.

“Hey!” he said, his smile easy and confident, like he’d done this a hundred times before.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh, hey?”

Beomgyu arched an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. “Royalty graces us with his presence,” he quipped under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear.

Yeonjun chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Mind if I join you guys for a bit?”

“Sure,” you said before Beomgyu could say something snarky. You gestured to the empty chair across from you.

Yeonjun slid into the seat, setting down his bag. “So, I’ve been thinking about last night.”

“Oh no,” Beomgyu muttered dramatically, earning a light kick under the table from you.

Yeonjun grinned but stayed focused on you. “You were right.”

“About what?” you asked, genuinely puzzled.

“About the reality check,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You said people tell me what I want to hear all the time, and... yeah, you weren’t wrong. It’s refreshing to hear someone call me out instead of sugarcoating everything.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I wasn’t trying to give you some big epiphany. Just speaking the truth.”

“And I appreciated it,” Yeonjun said. “I’m not here to make it weird or anything. I just... wanted to say thanks. Also, you guys were a lot cooler about the whole drunk mess thing than most people would’ve been.”

“See?” Beomgyu piped up, smirking. “I am cool.”

Yeonjun laughed, and for a moment, the usual air of aloofness that seemed to follow him was gone.

“Well, if you want to thank us,” you said, crossing your arms, “you could’ve at least left twenty bucks instead of ten.”

Yeonjun raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted for next time.”

“Next time?” Beomgyu echoed, feigning horror.

Yeonjun shrugged, his grin widening. “What can I say? You guys might be growing on me.” Although his eyes were lingering on yours when he said the latter.

You rolled your eyes, but even you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe, just maybe, one night could change more than you thought.

“Well, I’ll catch up with you later!” Yeonjun said with a wave before getting up and walking off.

You watched him go, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Beomgyu leaned over and poked your cheek with a mischievous grin.

“Ooooh, someone’s got a crush,” he teased.

“No, I don’t,” you shot back, swatting his hand away.

“Your ears are all red just from looking at him,” Beomgyu continued, undeterred.

“Oh, shut up. I just think he’s an okay person, that’s all,” you muttered, feeling the heat on your cheeks.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure, okay. Whatever you say.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying you with a playful smirk. “So what the hell happened last night while I was asleep anyway?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “We just talked. That’s it. Besides, he has a girlfriend or whatever.”

Beomgyu’s grin widened. “So you’re one of those kiss-and-don’t-tell types of people?”

“For the love of god, shut up,” you groaned, shoving a donut into his mouth to stop him from saying more.

He chewed, still grinning, but thankfully kept his comments to himself. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit of relief. The whole situation felt like a weird blur, but it wasn’t like you owed anyone explanations—least of all Beomgyu, who always had something to say.

“I’m just saying,” Beomgyu mumbled around the donut, “You’re not fooling anyone.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “If I say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

Beomgyu grinned, clearly not convinced, but dropped the subject for now. "Whatever, you're still blushing."

“Shut up, Beomgyu,” you muttered again, but this time, you couldn’t quite stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

Beomgyu stood up, giving you a playful nudge. “You know, if you wanted to talk more about Yeonjun, I’m all ears. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

You shot him a look, then grabbed your bag, shoving it over your shoulder. “I’m not talking about him. Ever. End of story.”

Beomgyu chuckled, following you out of the café. “Sure, sure. We’ll see about that.”

—

It was one of those rare times when Beomgyu wasn’t glued to your side. Usually, he was either at band practice, you were holed up in the library, or both. So, here you were, typing away at your thesis, getting lost in your thoughts, when you felt the chair next to you squeak as someone sat down. Not that you cared; the library was always packed on a Friday evening.

“Hey!”

You looked up to find Yeonjun grinning at you, his smile nearly infectious.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I saw Beomgyu, and he told me you’d be here. Looks like he knows you super well!”

You blinked in surprise, not quite sure how to react. The last time you saw him, things were casual, but this felt a bit more… personal? You adjusted in your seat, offering a small, polite smile.

“Oh, uh, yeah. He knows me better than I’d like to admit,” you said, feeling a bit awkward.

Yeonjun chuckled, his eyes still sparkling. “He said you’d be buried in work. You really take your studies seriously, huh?”

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I mean, I have to. It’s due soon.”

“I get that,” Yeonjun said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. “I’m actually impressed you’re still here. I would’ve bailed a while ago.”

“I’m just used to it,” you replied, glancing back at your screen. “I’ve got to finish this.”

The conversation lapsed into a quiet hum until you looked up at him, confused. “W... why were you looking for me? Do you need something?”

“Oh, I just… had fun talking to you the other night,” Yeonjun said casually, as if asking you out wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner after this.”

He smiled, that damn perfect smile that made your heart skip a beat. You were caught off guard. You’d thought what happened the other night was just a one-time thing. You didn’t expect an actual friendship—or more—to come out of it.

“You want to have dinner with me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alone?”

Yeonjun leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you gonna murder me?”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “No, I’m not gonna murder you.”

He cracked a smile. “Then yeah. I do. I think dinner with you sounds pretty good.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to read the situation. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company; it was more the suddenness of it all. But something about the way he asked—like it was a simple, natural thing—made you pause. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Alright,” you said with a shrug, trying to sound casual. “I just have a couple of pages left. You can just…do something else first while you wait. I don’t want to bore you.”

“No, I’ll wait.” He smiled, resting his head in his arms on the table, turning to face you with a bright grin on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “You’re just gonna stare at me for the next hour or so?”

“Yeonjun smirked, his gaze never leaving you. “I don’t mind. You’re much more interesting than any textbook.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm slightly, but you kept your cool. “Is that so?”

He nodded.

You ignored him, focusing on your work, trying to push back the heat creeping up on your cheeks. You hoped he couldn't tell just how nervous you were with him sitting right next to you.

How were you even supposed to react? The only guy you ever hung out with was Beomgyu, and the two of you couldn’t be more platonic if you tried.

“Hey, so like, are the two of you dating?” Yeonjun asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up from your paper, staring at Yeonjun for a moment before bursting out laughing. “Me and Beomgyu? No? No. That’s gross. No. No. Never.”

“That’s a mildly offensive reaction that I will not tell Beomgyu about.”

“Oh, trust me, he’d give you the same response if you asked him.”

Yeonjun chuckled. “You two just seem attached at the hip.”

“Well, he’s my only friend, and somehow he’s clingier to me than I am to him. I don’t know why.”

“It could be because you’re really great company.”

“Oh, who else would think that?”

“Me?”

“We’ve had one conversation—”

“Two,” he corrected, grinning.

“Two conversations,” you repeated, rolling your eyes.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly closer. “I don’t know… I think we’re off to a solid start. Besides, it’s rare I actually enjoy talking to someone this much.”

You glanced at him, then smirked. “You seem to have the whole school at your feet. I’m pretty sure you could find someone if you just threw a fish hook out there.”

“Well… they’re not as blunt as you.”

“Do you not have anyone telling you the truth to your face?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do. My best friends. Soobin, I don’t know if you know him.”

“The tall one who does girl group dances on TikTok?” You chuckled, remembering the viral clips.

Yeonjun laughed, nodding. “Yeah. He’s great, but sometimes, you know, I don’t want him to worry too much. He treats me like his own child sometimes. It’s weird, especially since I’m older.”

You laughed softly at that. “I mean, I get it. Sometimes, friends can be overprotective, even when they don’t need to be.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone a little more serious now. “But I guess it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.” He paused, giving you a sidelong glance. “Even if it gets a little annoying.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes people just want the best for you, even if it’s a little over the top.”

“Like you and Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said with a teasing grin.

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t a thing?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Positive.”

“Really?” Yeonjun sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He’s just the only person who gets me.”

The conversation lingered in the air for a moment, and you returned to your work, but this time it felt a little less overwhelming, the atmosphere more relaxed. Maybe this wasn’t so weird after all.

—

At dinner, the atmosphere was calm at first, with you both eating in relative silence. Then, suddenly, Yeonjun slammed his chopsticks down on the napkin, causing you to jump, wide-eyed, and look up at him.

“I want what you and Beomgyu have!” he declared, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few nearby tables.

You blinked in confusion. “We have nothing.”

“Precisely,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat. He looked both frustrated and thoughtful. “You remember the girl I told you about? My girlfriend—well, ex, I guess.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“We’ve been together for two years,” Yeonjun continued, running a hand through his hair. “And lately, I’ve started to realize... maybe I’ve just been keeping her around for comfort.”

You paused, taking in his words. The sincerity in his voice was clear, and it made you reflect on what he was saying. "What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

Yeonjun sighed again, the weight of his thoughts showing. “I don’t think I’m in love with her anymore. At least, not the way I should be. It’s like I’ve been holding on because it’s easy, because it’s familiar. And now... I don’t even know if that’s enough anymore.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was admitting. “That sounds tough. But... maybe it’s better to face that now, rather than later.”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t know what to do about it,” he said, his tone mixed with frustration and uncertainty.

“Sometimes you don’t have to have everything figured out right away. It’s okay to take a step back and think about what you really want. You can’t just keep holding on to something for the sake of comfort.” You spoke slowly, feeling the weight of your own words as they fell between you two.

Yeonjun nodded, though his expression remained conflicted. "I don’t want to hurt her, but I also don’t want to keep pretending. I don't want to be stuck in something out of habit."

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. "But didn’t she ask for a break?”

“She usually does that to get my attention.” 

“That sounds not at all toxic.” you laughed.

Yeonjun let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, it’s not healthy. But every time she does that, I feel like I’m losing her. It’s like I’m always on the edge of something—whether it’s fixing things or making them worse.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a bit. “So, it’s the constant cycle of drama keeping you in the relationship? Feels like a never-ending loop.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, pretty much. It's exhausting. But when it’s good, it’s really good, and I guess I keep thinking maybe we’ll get back to that.”

“But that’s the problem, right?” you said softly, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re holding onto the highs because you're afraid of letting go of the lows. But in the end, it’s the pattern that’s unhealthy, not just the relationship itself.”

Yeonjun nodded, the weight of your words sinking in. “I’ve been trying to avoid facing that. It's easier to stay in something familiar than to face the unknown, even if it means staying in a cycle that doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, giving him a knowing look. “It’s scary to let go, especially when you’ve been holding onto something for so long. But sometimes, letting go is the only way forward.”

The conversation lulled once again. You kept your eyes firmly on your plate, despite feeling his gaze on you. His persistence was relentless, especially with that sweet, almost oblivious smile he kept throwing your way.

Geez, it’s like he doesn’t know how cutehe is, you thought, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Hey,” Yeonjun’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft yet curious. “Did you mean it when you said you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

You nodded nonchalantly, shoving some rice into your mouth. “Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How so? I thought it was pretty obvious.” You chuckled, brushing it off with another bite.

“Well, it’s just...you’re so pretty.”

His words hit like a rogue wave. You inhaled sharply, immediately regretting it as the rice caught in your throat. You choked and coughed violently, tears springing to your eyes. Yeonjun froze, wide-eyed.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?!” He reached out, panicking as you thumped your chest, struggling to breathe.

“Water—” you croaked, pointing desperately.

He fumbled for the glass in front of you, but in his haste, managed to knock it over, sending the liquid cascading across the table. Both of you stared at the spreading mess before he scrambled for napkins.

“Seriously?!” you managed to rasp, still half-choking.

“I panicked!” he shot back, dabbing at the table like his life depended on it.

Finally catching your breath, you glared at him, tears streaming down your cheeks from the ordeal. “This—this is your fault!”

He raised his hands defensively, his expression guilt-ridden, before breaking into a sheepish grin. “How is this my fault?!”

You shook your head, not wanting to admit that his words had thrown you completely off guard.

“What? Has no one called you pretty before?” he joked, his tone light and teasing.

You froze, the teasing suddenly landing in a spot you weren’t ready to acknowledge. You looked at him quietly, lips pressing together in a thin line, before turning your gaze away.

His grin faltered, replaced by a soft curiosity. “You’ve…never been called that before?”

“And why would anyone ever call me that?” you said, rolling your eyes in an attempt to deflect, but the slight edge in your voice betrayed you.

“Because you are,” he said simply, his tone devoid of the usual playfulness. “I’ve always thought so.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “You’ve always thought so?” you echoed, skeptical.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Since the first time I saw you. You just don’t seem to realize it, which is kind of insane.”

Your face warmed, and you tried to mask it with a sarcastic laugh. “Right, and I suppose this is the part where I swoon over you and your grand compliments? Oh great Yeonjun, do sprinkle me with some more compliments!”

Yeonjun chuckled, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You can swoon later. For now, I’ll just take the victory of seeing you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” you retorted, pushing your plate away dramatically.

“Sure, sure,” he said, smirking as he sat back. “Let’s just say you win this argument because I’ve won something else tonight.”

You stared at him, incredulous, before bursting into laughter. “And what is that?”

“An image of you choking on rice.,” he quipped, his grin widening.

“You’re an idiot.” You shook your head, unable to fight the smile tugging at your lips. 

—

Days passed, and before you knew it, Yeonjun started showing up during lunch, casually plopping himself down next to you and Beomgyu like it was the most natural thing in the world. At first, Beomgyu gave him suspicious side-eyes, but Yeonjun’s easy charm wore him down.

Soon enough, Yeonjun began bringing his friend Soobin along. Quiet at first, Soobin would sit awkwardly beside Yeonjun, nibbling on his food while the rest of you chatted. But it didn’t take long for Beomgyu to drag Soobin into his whirlwind of jokes and antics, and suddenly the four of you were a group.

Once or twice a week, the four of you would find yourselves huddled together during lunch or after school, trading stories, cracking jokes, or, in Beomgyu’s case, plotting unnecessarily dramatic ways to prank unsuspecting classmates.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but the dynamic had shifted. What was once just you and Beomgyu had expanded into something bigger—and, maybe, better.

“I can’t believe it’s not just the two of us anymore,” you muttered to Beomgyu one afternoon as you watched Yeonjun and Soobin argue over who was better at Mario Kart.

Beomgyu smirked, leaning back against the cafeteria bench. “Oh, come on, you’re having fun. Just admit it.”

“I was perfectly content with it being just us,” you said, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “But… it doesn’t suck having them around too.”

“Yeah, it’s the first time I’ve seen a duo as chaotic as us,” Beomgyu said, motioning toward Yeonjun, who was dramatically accusing Soobin of cheating.

Soobin, clearly exasperated, shoved Yeonjun lightly. “How do you even cheat at Mario Kart? It’s literally luck!”

“You took all the item boxes!” Yeonjun shot back, crossing his arms in mock betrayal.

“Wow,” Beomgyu said, shaking his head with feigned seriousness. “And I thought we were immature.”

“Y’know we can hear you two, right?” Soobin rolled his eyes.

“Kinda counting on it,” you replied with a shrug, sliding onto the bench between Soobin and Yeonjun. “Now, enough. I don’t need the two of you to end up throwing popcorn around like last night.”

“We picked it up straight after,” Soobin defended himself.

“I found two stray kernels behind the couch yesterday,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you, giving Soobin a playful shove on the arm. "Two. Stray. Popcorn pieces. I rest my case."

Soobin groaned dramatically, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’m guilty. But next time, I’ll make sure Yeonjun eats all the evidence.”

“Me?” Yeonjun exclaimed, looking offended. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who knocked the bowl over in the first place!”

As the three of you bickered, Yeonjun’s gaze shifted for a moment. He noticed the way you laughed at Soobin’s retort, your head tilted slightly as you leaned closer to him. And when Soobin smirked and flicked your shoulder in retaliation, Yeonjun caught the glimmer of fondness in your eyes.

A thought crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome: Do they like each other?

He shook his head slightly, trying to push it away. But the more he observed, the harder it was to ignore. Your casual ease around Soobin, the way you teased him without hesitation, and the soft way Soobin seemed to glance at you when he thought no one else was looking—it all painted a picture Yeonjun couldn’t ignore.

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Yeonjun blinked, realizing everyone was now staring at him.

“You’ve been spacing out for a solid minute,” Beomgyu teased, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing,” Yeonjun said quickly, plastering on a smile. “I was just thinking about… Mario Kart strategies.”

Soobin snorted. “Sure you were.”

Yeonjun’s smile faltered slightly, but he forced himself to focus on the moment instead of the nagging thoughts in his head. If there was something between you and Soobin, he’d figure it out eventually—or, at the very least, stop thinking about it so much. Or so he hoped. In fact, he didn’t even know why that thought bothered him.

—

You glanced at your watch, then scanned the area for your friends, who were now ten minutes late. Weird, you thought. Sure, they were always late, but for lunch? Never. You were just about to call Beomgyu when his text came through: Gonna be a bit late, sorry! Not long after, Soobin messaged the same thing.

You sighed, already bracing for a solo lunch when a pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders from behind.

“Boo!”

You screamed out of reflex, jerking forward and nearly tripping, only for Yeonjun to catch you by the arms. For a moment, you were staring directly into his eyes, close enough to see the tiny flecks of brown in them. Your face heated up as you pushed him away.

“You—you little shit!” you shouted, your voice louder than you intended. “You scared me!”

Yeonjun burst into laughter, throwing his head back. “Oh, come on, that was barely a scare!”

“Don’t do that!” You smacked his chest lightly, half-annoyed, half-flustered.

Still grinning, Yeonjun checked his phone. “Looks like it’s just the two of us for lunch today.”

“Oh dear god, save me,” you groaned dramatically.

He laughed again, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the canteen. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It'll be fun. Let’s go!”

To be honest, you still felt a little awkward hanging out with Yeonjun alone. You couldn’t stand the attention the two of you seemed to attract. With Soobin and Beomgyu around, there was always someone to deflect the focus, but being alone with someone as popular as Yeonjun was... exhausting.

Every few minutes, a girl would walk up to make a casual pass at him, twirling her hair or giggling at whatever he said, while Yeonjun just smiled politely. If it wasn’t a girl, it was some frat bro bounding over with a fist bump and a loud, “Dude, it’s been forever!”

It was tiring.

You sat across from Yeonjun, trying to focus on your lunch while he chatted casually, seemingly unbothered by the interruptions. When yet another girl sidled up to your table with a too-sweet smile and a “Hi, Yeonjun~,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

When she finally left, you leaned forward and deadpanned, “Is this what your life is like every day? Because I think I’d rather die.”

Yeonjun chuckled, resting his chin in his hand. “Pretty much. Jealous?”

“Not in the slightest,” you shot back, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork. “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Well,” he said, smirking, “having lunch with you is definitely the highlight. You don’t try to flirt with me.”

You choked on your water at his words, coughing violently.

“Are you okay?!” Yeonjun asked, wide-eyed as he handed you a napkin.

“I’m fine,” you wheezed, glaring at him through teary eyes. “Stop saying things like that. You’re gonna kill me.”

Yeonjun just laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leaned back in his chair. “See? Lunch with me is fun.”

“Sure. If it means being interrupted like a million times,” you sighed softly, taking another bite of your food.

“Though…” He paused, his gaze shifting toward you.

You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Though what?”

“I did wish you would,” he said, his voice quieter now.

You tilted your head, confused. “Would what?”

“Never mind.” He waved it off quickly, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.”

“Dude…” You narrowed your eyes, now fully intrigued.

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a nervous chuckle. “I wish you would…flirt with me.”

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him, stunned.

“Y’know,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I get it all the time from other people, but I don’t get it from the one girl who I think would actually be good at it.” He chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “It’s stupid, forget I said anything.”

“Why on earth would you think I’d be good at flirting?” you asked, baffled. “I’ve never done that in my entire life.”

Yeonjun smiled, soft and genuine. “Honestly? I think I’d like anything you said to me.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t form a reply.

“Oh crap, I forgot ketchup,” he said suddenly, standing up. “I’ll be back.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you sitting there in stunned silence. His words replayed in your mind—“I think I’d like anything you said to me.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he just joking, or was there something more to it?

You picked at your food absentmindedly, your thoughts spinning. When Yeonjun returned with his ketchup, he was back to his usual cheerful self, as if he hadn’t just casually dropped that bombshell.

“So, what did I miss?” he asked, settling back into his seat.

“Absolutely nothing,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze. But deep down, you knew this lunch had changed something between you—and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

–

Yeonjun paced his room, running a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t stop. His thoughts had been circling like a storm, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t find a way to calm the chaos.

What was this feeling?

He’d never felt like this before—this unrelenting, all-encompassing focus on someone. On you.

When he slept, he dreamed of you. When he woke up, you were the first thing on his mind. In class, during every lecture, every fleeting second, he found ways to connect everything back to you. A joke you’d made, the way you furrowed your brow when you were deep in thought, the way you smiled.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Was it your smile? Or maybe it was your silliness—the way you could laugh at yourself and make him laugh, too. Or perhaps it was your honesty. The way you didn’t sugarcoat things. You were real with him in a way no one else ever dared to be.

But then his chest tightened as another thought crept in. The idea of Soobin liking you—of you liking Soobin—it hurt.

It hurt more than it should.

And Beomgyu—Beomgyu knew you better than anyone else. That bond, that closeness. It twisted something in Yeonjun’s chest, a feeling he hated acknowledging.

The idea of anyone liking you, of anyone else being the person you chose, was unbearable.

He groaned, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over his face. What the hell was he supposed to do with these feelings?

He had to get rid of these feelings fast especially since he knew you didn’t feel a single thing for him. 

—

The bass of the music pulsed through Yeonjun’s body as he walked into the crowded house, a drink already being shoved into his hand by a friend he barely recognized. The room was alive with laughter, chatter, and the occasional shrill cheer as someone won at beer pong.

He should feel at home here. Normally, he thrived in this chaos, weaving his way through groups with a charming grin and a quick joke. Tonight, though, the party felt... off. But this was what he needed, right? To get over you.

Yeonjun scanned the room and spotted a girl standing by the bar, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She caught his eye and smiled, and for a moment, he let himself fall into autopilot.

“Hey,” he greeted smoothly, leaning casually against the counter. “Can I get you a drink?”

She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Sure. What are you having?”

They exchanged playful banter as he poured her a drink, his usual charm kicking in effortlessly. She laughed at his jokes, leaning closer, and for a second, Yeonjun thought he was doing it—distracting himself, drowning out his thoughts of you.

But then she said something—he didn’t even register what—and her laugh didn’t sound like yours. Her smile didn’t light up her face the way yours did. Her words didn’t carry that teasing edge you always had when you talked to him.

And suddenly, it hit him.

He didn’t want her.

He wanted you.

His hand froze mid-air, the glass he was holding tipping slightly. The girl furrowed her brow, confused. “Are you okay?”

Yeonjun blinked, snapping back to the moment. “Yeah, uh, sorry,” he said quickly, setting the glass down and stepping back. “I just—I need to go.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned and pushed through the crowd, his chest tightening with every step. What the hell was he doing here?

He didn’t want some random girl at a party. He didn’t want to distract himself or pretend his feelings didn’t exist.

He wanted you.

And for the first time, he realized just how badly.

—

The four of you were gathered around your usual table at lunch, the cafeteria alive with chatter and clinking cutlery. You were in the middle of an impassioned rant about how your student rally had antis, your hands animatedly emphasizing every point.

“I mean, can you believe some people still think it’s not real? Like, the science is right there!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Yeonjun leaned forward slightly, his chin propped on his hand as he watched you with an almost dreamy expression. He wasn’t really hearing the details of what you were saying—he was too busy soaking in the way your eyes lit up, the determination in your voice, the little wrinkle between your brows when you were especially frustrated.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow as he noticed Yeonjun’s expression but stayed silent for the moment.

“And don’t even get me started on corporations acting like individual recycling efforts are enough to fix the problem,” you continued, your voice filled with passion. “We need systemic change, not just—ugh, whatever.” You sighed, leaning back and crossing your arms, visibly exasperated.

“You’re so right,” Yeonjun said suddenly, his voice softer than usual, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Thank you?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you said a moment later, standing and grabbing your bag. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, Beomgyu leaned across the table, pointing a fry at Yeonjun. “Okay, what’s your deal?”

“What?” Yeonjun asked, startled, though the tips of his ears turned pink.

“You’ve been staring at her like she hung the moon,” Soobin chimed in, smirking as he sipped his drink. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Yeonjun tried to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know,” Beomgyu said, leaning closer, his grin mischievous. “You’re whipped. Admit it.”

Yeonjun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Can you two not?”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Soobin said, laughing. “Just tell her already. This whole lovesick puppy thing is kind of embarrassing.”

Yeonjun peeked through his fingers, glaring at him. “She doesn’t feel that way about me, okay? So just drop it.”

Beomgyu and Soobin exchanged a look, their teasing smiles softening slightly.

“Well, she’s not going to know if you don’t tell her,” Beomgyu said after a moment, his voice unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Soobin added. “And honestly, she’d be lucky to have you.”

Yeonjun looked down at the table, his heart racing as he replayed the way you’d smiled while talking about something you cared so much about.

Maybe they were right. But the thought of risking your friendship still terrified him. Especially a friendship like yours.

—

The library was unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon, save for the occasional rustle of papers or the soft murmur of students whispering to one another. You and Yeonjun had claimed a table in the far corner, textbooks sprawled out in front of you as you both attempted to study. Well, you were attempting; Yeonjun was too busy doodling cartoonish faces on the corner of his notebook and cracking terrible jokes that somehow still managed to make you smile.

“Okay, but seriously, why do you write your notes like this?” he asked, pointing at your color-coded bullet points. “It’s like an art exhibit for highlighters.”

“Because it works,” you replied, swatting his hand away before he could smudge your meticulously written notes. “Maybe if you stopped doodling and actually read the material, you wouldn’t need to borrow my notes every time.”

“I’m a visual learner,” he said with a smirk. “I need diagrams, not words.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. Just as you were about to nudge him for his lack of effort, a shadow fell over your table.

“Hey, Yeonjun,” a girl said, her voice dripping with a mixture of shyness and flirtation. She held a notebook to her chest, her gaze flicking briefly to you before focusing solely on him. “I was wondering if you could help me with something from class.”

Yeonjun blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I’m the last person you should be asking.”

The girl leaned in a little too close, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, c’mon, it’d be fun~”

Your hand froze mid-note. You tried not to react, keeping your gaze fixed on your textbook, but the awkward tension was palpable. Yeonjun, to his credit, just laughed nervously and said, “You could always e-mail your professor,” before the girl finally left, albeit reluctantly.

You barely had time to process the encounter before another girl appeared five minutes later, giggling as she asked him to sign her notebook because it was “a good-luck charm.” Then came another, offering him a snack and batting her eyelashes so furiously you were surprised she could still see.

By the third interruption, you’d had enough. Not because you were angry, but because it was clear you couldn’t get any studying done with 100 girls coming up to get their way to him. You quietly stood, gathering your things. “I’ll give you some space,” you said lightly, trying to sound nonchalant. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Yeonjun’s head snapped up. “What? No, wait—” He grabbed your wrist before you could step away, his grip firm but gentle. His voice was louder this time, drawing the attention of the girls hovering nearby. “Actually, girls y’know what, I’d really appreciate it if everyone understood that I already have a girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened in shock as he turned to look at the group, a confident grin spreading across his face. 

One of the girls frowned. “Who?”

He pointed directly at you. “Her.”

You stared at him, absolutely floored. “Excuse me?” you whispered harshly.

Yeonjun only shrugged, leaning back in his chair like it was the most natural thing in the world. “What? It’s true. Well, kinda,” he muttered under his breath, low enough that only you could hear.

The girls exchanged looks, clearly skeptical but unwilling to press further. One by one, they walked away, their disappointed expressions oddly satisfying. Once they were gone, you yanked your arm free, glaring at him.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed, your cheeks burning.

Yeonjun grinned, completely unapologetic. “What? You were gonna leave me to fend for myself. I had to do something.”

“You couldn’t just say you weren’t interested like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

You groaned, sinking back into your chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still here,” he pointed out, smirking.

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

—

The cafeteria was buzzing with its usual chaos—trays clattering, voices rising, and the occasional shriek of someone almost spilling their drink. You were balancing your lunch tray, trying to make your way to the table where Beomgyu and Soobin were already seated, but as soon as they spotted you and Yeonjun walking in together, their heads whipped toward you like they’d just uncovered the scandal of the century.

The grins on their faces were impossible to ignore.

“So,” Beomgyu began as soon as you sat down, his tone dripping with faux disappointment. “You confessed to my best friend without even telling me?” He sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d personally betrayed him. “I thought we were closer than this.”

You froze mid-bite of your sandwich. “What?”

“Don’t act innocent,” Soobin added, his usually calm demeanor betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He tilted his head toward Yeonjun, who had taken the seat next to you with the utmost confidence. “We heard about the library incident.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, glaring at Yeonjun. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Yeonjun raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin only widening. “All I did was save you from leaving me alone with those girls.”

“Save me?” you repeated, incredulous. “You told everyone we’re dating!”

“Well,” Beomgyu chimed in, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised, “if you’re not dating, you two sure are doing a great job pretending otherwise. You literally walked in here together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because we were coming from the same place. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Soobin said, his tone suspiciously neutral. “And sitting next to each other? Laughing like you’re in your own little world? Totally platonic, right?”

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Nothing is going on. Yeonjun made up the girlfriend thing to get those girls off his back, and somehow, everyone else decided to turn it into a school-wide announcement.”

Beomgyu gasped theatrically. “So you’re fake-dating? This is even better.” He clapped his hands together like he’d just won the lottery. “This is straight out of a drama. What’s next? A contract?”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” you groaned, glancing at Yeonjun, who was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I mean, it’s not the worst idea,” Yeonjun said, casually leaning back in his chair. “You get fewer annoying questions, I get fewer confessions to deal with—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off. “This is not happening.”

“Why not?” Beomgyu said, clearly loving every second of this. “Think about it. You’d make the perfect fake couple. The ‘grumpy and sunshine’ dynamic is a classic.”

“I am not grumpy!” you snapped, and Beomgyu cackled like he’d just proven his point.

Soobin, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “You know, for something fake, you both seem awfully comfortable around each other.”

You stared at him, your brain struggling to form a coherent response. Yeonjun, on the other hand, just smirked.

“See? Even Soobin agrees,” Yeonjun said, shooting you a smug look. “Maybe there’s a reason everyone’s buying it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “The only reason everyone’s buying it is because you’re too convincing for your own good.”

“Or,” Beomgyu teased, resting his chin on his hands, “because you’re secretly in love with him.”

You choked on your drink. “I—absolutely not!”

Yeonjun just grinned, leaning closer. “You sure about that?”

—

The café was buzzing with lunchtime chatter as you and Yeonjun settled into your seats. It was supposed to be a group lunch, but Beomgyu and Soobin had bailed last minute, claiming an urgent League of Legends match that couldn’t wait. Typical.

“Well, their loss,” Yeonjun said, popping a fry into his mouth. “More food for us.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “Do you ever get tired of eating fries?”

“Never,” he replied with a grin. “Fries are the love of my life. No offense.”

“And why would that be offensive?” you said dryly, sipping your drink.

Midway through your conversation, Yeonjun stood up. “Gotta use the restroom. Don’t eat all the fries while I’m gone.” He shot you a playful wink before walking off, leaving you to roll your eyes again.

As you sat there scrolling through your phone, a girl approached your table, her perfectly styled hair and designer bag making her stand out. She stopped right in front of you, arms crossed, her gaze sharp.

“Hey,” she started, her tone clipped. “I’ve heard the rumors, and I just have to ask—are you really dating Yeonjun?”

You looked up, mildly surprised by the confrontation. “Uh, I guess. Why?”

Her lips twisted into a skeptical smile. “It’s just... you don’t really seem like his type, you know? No offense.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “None taken,” you said with a shrug, matching her energy. “But what’s his type, exactly?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting you to stand your ground. “Well... someone more... polished, I guess. Someone who matches his vibe. I’m just saying, you don’t seem like the kind of girl he’d go for.”

You set your drink down and met her gaze directly. “Cool. Thanks for your opinion. Anything else?”

Before she could respond, Yeonjun reappeared, his steps light but his expression sharp as he overheard the conversation. “What’s not to like about her?” he asked casually, sliding back into his seat beside you. His sudden presence made the girl stiffen.

“She’s smart, funny, and gorgeous,” Yeonjun continued, his tone unwavering as he gestured toward you. “And for the record, she’s perfect for me.”

The girl’s mouth opened and closed like she was searching for a response. Finally, she managed to say, “It’s just…You could do so much better.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “There’s no such thing as better,” he said, his voice firm. “She’s already the best.”

Without breaking eye contact with the girl, he leaned toward you, his hand resting lightly on your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Which…well, caught you off guard.

When he pulled back, the girl looked utterly flustered, “I-I...hope the two of you are happy together then. I’m sorry.” she muttered before spinning on her heel and walking away.

Yeonjun turned to you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “That wasn’t too much, was it?”

You blinked, still processing what had just happened. “Uh... no?” Your cheeks heated up from the sudden intimacy.

“Good,” he said, grabbing another fry like nothing had happened. “Now, where were we?”

—

The cool night breeze swept over the two of you as you walked side by side down the dimly lit street. The sound of your footsteps filled the comfortable silence between you, the faint glow of streetlights illuminating Yeonjun’s sharp features. You stole a glance at him, your heart oddly heavy as you mulled over your thoughts.

“Uh, y’know…” you said softly, your voice barely cutting through the quiet.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head slightly to look at you, his hands stuffed casually in his jacket pockets.

You hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “You… you kinda stole my first kiss, you know.”

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in alarm. “Wait, that was your first kiss?” he asked, voice rising with panic. “Oh my God, I didn’t—I didn’t know! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeonjun,” you interrupted, laughing softly at his frantic apologies. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I just kissed you to get that girl to leave, and I didn’t even think—”

“Yeonjun,” you said more firmly, cutting him off again. “I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

That seemed to stop him in his tracks. He blinked, staring at you withcuriosity. “Really?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You looked away, your cheeks warming despite the cool breeze. “Honestly, I felt like I’d never lose my first kiss anyway,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “I’ve always thought it’d never happen.”

Yeonjun frowned, stepping closer. “What? Why would you think that?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile and attempting to wave it off. “It’s nothing. Let’s not—”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “Why are you so afraid of liking someone? Or being with someone?”

You bit your lip, looking away. “I just…” You hesitated, unsure if you could even put it into words. Finally, you sighed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I just feel like I wouldn’t be good enough for anyone.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and when you finally looked up, Yeonjun’s expression frustrated.

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice tight. “You’re the best person I know. Anyone would be lucky—so lucky—to even have you like them.”

You blinked, startled by the intensity of his words. “Yeonjun—”

“No,” he said, his tone firm. “You don’t get to say things like that about yourself. It’s not true, and it’s… it’s so frustrating that you don’t see what I see.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting like before—it was soft.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breathing uneven. “It’s just crazy how you don’t see how fucking amazing you are. You’re smart, you’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen and honestly I don’t understand why you’re so cute. You’re the only person I’ve ever liked this much and it’s killing me.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, your eyes still wide, your heart thudding against your chest.

“I’m stupid,” Yeonjun muttered, stepping back slightly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you—I shouldn’t have just blurted that out like that—”

“No!” you interrupted quickly, your voice firmer than you expected. “I’m not scared at all. I just…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“You just what?” he asked, his tone softening as he leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks warming. “I don’t really know how to deal with this,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve never... I’ve never had anyone say something like that to me before.”

Yeonjun’s brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You deserve it,” he said firmly, stepping closer again. “You deserve to hear it a hundred times. Every single day. You deserve to feel loved and appreciated and—and wanted.” His voice softened as he added, “Because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in. “Yeonjun…” you started, but you couldn’t find the right words to respond. Your mind was a blur of emotions, too overwhelmed to sort through them.

He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours before curling gently around them. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said quietly. “I just… I need you to know how I feel. And I need you to stop doubting yourself because you’re everything to me.” He paused, then added with a small, almost shy smile, “Even if I totally botched this confession and stole your first kiss”

A laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, breaking the tension. “You didn’t botch it,” you said, shaking your head. “It was... really sweet.”

He grinned, his confidence returning just a little. “Yeah? Sweet enough to get you to go on an actual date with me?”

Your heart fluttered, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? Ouch,” he said dramatically, swinging your joined hands slightly, his teasing smile lighting up his face.

You chuckled, looking at him through your lashes. “I don’t know. You did kinda steal my first kiss.”

Yeonjun stopped walking for a moment, tilting his head as if deep in thought. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he said, “You can have it back.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours again, softer this time, as if savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, you were laughing, your cheeks warm and heart racing. “Actually, I think I’d rather you keep it,” you said, your laughter spilling over as you leaned forward to kiss him again, this time initiating it yourself. “Here,” you murmured against his lips.

Yeonjun smirked as you pulled back, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Two can play at this game, y’know.”

“Oh, can they?” you teased, arching a brow as you started to walk again, pulling him along by the hand.

He followed easily, still grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Oh, they can,” he said confidently. “But fair warning, I’m really good at this game.”

“Guess I’ll just have to keep up,” you replied, smiling. “Though, I’d appreciate it if we kept this a little secret for now. I don’t really need Beomgyu asking me for every detail.”

“Right…” Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully, though his grin didn’t falter. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. We’re friends! In fact, haven’t we gotten closer?”

You gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “He’ll probably want to interrogate you. Or worse…”

“But we’re friends…?” he repeated, as if that would shield him from the chaos to come.

“You don’t understand,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head. “He might be Beomgyu, but he’s insanely—and I mean insanely—protective.”

Yeonjun blinked at you for a moment before laughing. “Protective? Beomgyu? Are we talking about the same Beomgyu who steals fries off everyone’s plates and pretends to faint when he’s asked to help with anything?”

“Yes, that Beomgyu,” you replied with a deadpan expression. “The same one who ‘accidentally’ tripped a guy in middle school because he thought he was flirting with me. Protective doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Yeonjun let out a low whistle, his laughter fading as a hint of nervousness crept into his smile. “Okay, maybe I underestimated him. So what’s the plan? Do I avoid eye contact? Pretend I don’t exist?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “No, just… don’t give him a reason to go full interrogator mode, and we’ll be fine.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Yeonjun muttered. He glanced at you, his playful smirk returning. “But you’re worth it. If I have to face Beomgyu’s wrath, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “He hasn’t even started yet.”

Yeonjun chuckled, but there was an undertone of determination in his voice as he said, “Let him. I’ll handle it. I like you too much to let Beomgyu scare me off.”

His words caught you off guard, your steps faltering for a moment. “Yeah, youre saying this now.”

He stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression sincere. “Of course I do. Beomgyu might be protective, but he’s also your friend. If he sees how serious I am about you, he’ll come around.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you smiled softly. “You’re being too cute right now. It’s really bothering me.”

Yeonjun grinned, leaning in just slightly. “The one time I don’t mind bothering you.”

–

The two of you were great at hiding your relationship—for a solid four days.

Beomgyu stood in front of you and Yeonjun, arms crossed, an exaggeratedly serious look on his face. “So,” he started, narrowing his eyes at Yeonjun, “you’re really dating my best friend?”

Yeonjun nodded, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably as a grin tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I am.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened dramatically. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? Huh? Was I supposed to find out at your wedding? Were you even going to send me a save-the-date card?!”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Beomgyu, it hasn’t even been a week—”

“Don’t interrupt me!” he snapped, pointing at you with mock seriousness before turning his attention back to Yeonjun. “You. You toad looking son of a bitch. Answer the question.”

Yeonjun shrugged, clearly amused. “Toad looking– Honestly, Gyu? I was hoping you’d just figure it out and not make a big deal.”

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been personally betrayed. “Gyu? You lost your Gyu privileges when you didn’t tell me about the two of you dating! And…not make a big deal?! I’m her best friend! It’s my job to make this a big deal! What kind of boyfriend are you if you don’t respect that?”

“Okay, okay, I respect it,” Yeonjun said, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you’re being a little dramatic—”

“Dramatic?” Beomgyu cut him off, pacing in front of you both like a detective in a crime drama. “Dramatic is when I trip a guy for flirting with her. This? This is serious. I need answers. What are your intentions with my little girl?”

“Little girl?” You scoffed.

“My intentions?” Yeonjun repeated, clearly holding back laughter. “I like her. A lot. I want to make her happy.”

Beomgyu squinted at him like he was trying to read Yeonjun’s soul. “Hmm…lame answer but okay. But what about—”

“Beomgyu, stop,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not my dad and Yeonjun’s not on trial.”

Beomgyu ignored you, snapping his fingers at Yeonjun. “What’s her favorite color?”

“Uh… blue?” Yeonjun said, glancing at you for confirmation.

“Wrong. It’s green,” Beomgyu said confidently, even though he was completely wrong.

“It’s actually yellow,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “Even I don’t know where you got green from.”

Beomgyu gasped again, this time looking personally offended. “How dare you keep secrets from me?”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s her favorite food?”

“Spaghetti!” Yeonjun answered quickly, as if it was obvious.

Beomgyu sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Lucky guess, nimrod.”

“Nimrod? Really?” Yeonjun shot him an exasperated side-eye. “You’re pulling these nicknames out of nowhere now, huh?”

“Talking back to your father-in-law?” Beomgyu glared, clearly annoyed. “Strike one, Choi Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun blinked, flustered. “My father-in-law is younger than me by two years. This is ridiculous.”

“More back talk, huh? Strike two, fuckface,” Beomgyu snapped, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Yeonjun threw his hands up in frustration, leaning back in his seat. “What the hell, man? Why are you so worked up? I’m literally just trying to answer your questions.”

Beomgyu’s glare intensified. “It’s not about the answer, Yeonjun. It’s the respect you should have for me, as her best friend, I am literally obligated–”

“No, you’re not.”

Beomgyu ignored you, “OBLIGATED to earn my respect and you’re just making it harder for me to give you my approval.”

You watched the exchange with an amused expression but also a growing sense of secondhand frustration on Yeonjun’s behalf. Beomgyu’s intensity wasn’t helping the situation.

Yeonjun finally sighed, slumping in his seat. “I’m not even trying to be difficult, Beomgyu. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to respect the fact that you’re dating my best friend,” Beomgyu muttered, arms still crossed. “I’m watching you, Yeonjun. You mess this up, I swear—”

“Alright, alright,” Yeonjun groaned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I get it. Strike three is coming, right?”

Beomgyu shot him a look, his eyes narrow with annoyance. “You better believe it, dumbass.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face. “Are we finally done?”

But Beomgyu wasn’t finished. He turned to Yeonjun with a dramatic flourish, holding his shoulders. “Listen up. When you’re holding her, you need to know you’re holding my whole world.”

“You got that off Pinterest, didn’t you?” you deadpanned.

Beomgyu waved you off, completely ignoring the comment.

But before Beomgyu could continue his interrogation, he suddenly stopped, his expression shifting into something softer. “Wait, I just realised…” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re really dating now. Like, for real. You’re all grown up…”

And then, out of nowhere, Beomgyu lunged forward and wrapped you in a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice muffled and suspiciously emotional. “I’ve watched you grow up, and now you’re dating this idiot! I can’t believe it!”

You froze for a moment, torn between laughing and tearing up yourself. “Beomgyu, are you… crying?”

“No!” he said, his voice cracking. “Shut up. It’s allergies.”

Yeonjun snorted, leaning against the wall. “Wow. Didn’t realize I was dating into such an emotional family.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare, though he didn’t let go of you. “And I cannot stress this enough, you better take good care of her, Yeonjun, or so help me I will cut your balls off when you’re sleep—”

“I will,” Yeonjun said sincerely, cutting him off. “I promise.”

Beomgyu sniffed dramatically before pulling back, giving you one last look. “Fine,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I approve. But only because I like you, Yeonjun. Don’t ruin it.”

Yeonjun saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you turned this into a whole event.”

Beomgyu grinned, his usual mischievousness returning. “What can I say? I live for the drama.”

[winwintea]

dreamies as your flight seatmate + ratings

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, crack, established relationship, haechans is the worst someone drop him out of the plane please

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸inspired by an insta post i saw for 127 and thought the dreamies deserved their own version.

Mark Lee

mark and you have 3 hours on this flight, so get ready for 3 hours of straight yapping from mark lee himself. he’s gonna show you pictures he has saved on his phone and goes into every single detail about the photo. you honestly just want to chill and listen to music, but if it seems like he’s given up, 5 minutes later he’ll bring up another subject. even if you’re gonna try to fall asleep he’ll wake you up, “yo, did you hear what i just said?” and you can’t get mad at him, who wants to see him sad? (4/10 seatmate, sometimes cooks, most of the time idk what he’s talking about)

Huang Renjun

renjun is probably one of those insane people on planes. he can get through the whole flight not talking to a single person, not listening to any music at all, not even looking out the window, just staring straight forward, lost in his own thoughts. if the flight map is available he’ll watch it for fun, otherwise he can pretty much entertain himself for however long the flight is. renjun would even read the safety manual for fun??? however if you needed him for anything, or if you wanted to watch a movie he’d be down you just need to ask, otherwise he’s gonna be in his own zone. (6/10 seatmate since he’s insane, but points only bc he’ll do anything if you ask him too)

Lee Jeno

jeno would be in your personal space, BUT IT’S NOT HIS FAULT DON’T BLAME HIM. he’d take up the armrests too but that’s because his arms are so big… and you wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable. and lowkey you’re fine with the personal space invasion thing too cause he smells good. (you’re coping) and maybe during the middle of the flight he’ll put the armrest up and hold you in a big hug, just so you can feel more comfortable cause he feels bad for taking up so much room. “i hope this is comfortable enough for you, it’s just a few more hours, you can take a nap on my shoulder or legs if you want” (7/10 seatmate, he feels bad and i would feel guilty if i gave him anything under a 6)

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is an armrest hogger… and he doesn’t even need to. instead of talking to you though, he’ll be on his phone the whole entire trip, watching tiktoks OUT LOUD on his phone. you honestly wanted to watch a movie with him, but you aren't even going to consider it now. and when you catch him peeking over your shoulder trying to watch whatever tv show you’re watching, you give him an annoyed look, and turn the device so you can’t see him. (-127/10 seatmate, just wait until he takes off his shoes cause then you’re both getting kicked off by the stewardess)

Na Jaemin

jaemin is the embodiment of the BEST seatmate ever. he’s always checking in on you, making sure you have ample leg room, let’s you use the armrests even if you don’t want to. he brought a whole bunch of snacks to for you two to share and snack on. downloaded a bunch of movies and tv shows for the ride, but if you don’t want to watch a movie, that’s fine. want to sleep? he brought a neck pillow. want to just talk? he can do that. (10/10 seatmate this is why i have high standards in men)

Zhong Chenle

chenle’s company could either go one or two ways. one, he could spend the whole entire flight watching the basketball game with the third person in your row that somehow was also a golden state warriors fan? to which… fuck him cause how tf did you become a third wheel? or two, he and you spend the whole entire flight just shit talking the other passengers on the plane with each other. chenle and you would probably be whispering to each other and giggling away. (3/10 cause the first outcome is more likely. we know even if there’s no other person to watch it with, as long as there’s a game on he’s watching.)

Park Jisung

jisung… it’s a little too quiet… and a little too tense. the mood is almost way too awkward? “jisung… you can talk to me you know?” you turn towards him, and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “oh i wasn’t sure if you… wanted to talk or… maybe you were gonna sleep-“ you shush him with your finger, and lay your head upon his shoulder. His whole body begins to relax and he no longer feels cooped up in the seat like he was at first, “Whatever we do, let’s do it together alright?” (8/10 seatmate, very awkward, originally it’s way too close for his comfort but he gets into it and will do anything you want <3)

[mindfulstudyquest]

here's the reason you procrastinate

based on Fuschia Sirois' research

everyone procrastinate at some point. research suggests that almost 1 in 4 people procrastinate on a fairly regular basis, and the rates are even higher among college and university students ( 50% of them procrastinate regularly and about 85-90% do so occasionally ).

because procrastination is so common we tend not to put too much thought into it, in the end what is the problem? it's just delay.

well, it's not. actually procrastination is harmful delay ( so defined by the researchers ); it is a form of delay which is:

voluntary

unnecessary

involves important tasks which you intended to do

people often underestimate the consequences of procrastination and how debilitating and harmful it can be. if you delay dealing with ( for example ) your academic works, of course you can expect some negative results in that area, but what about the collateral consequences of it?

research has shown that people who have problems with procrastination have low physical and mental health and practice less healthy behaviors. they deal with depression, stress and anxiety.

just think about the enormous amount of stress that procrastination brings: first of all, constantly chasing deadlines. deadlines can nag anyone, even those who don't struggle with delaying, but then it ends, the job is turned in, and everything goes back to normal. for procastinators this is not the case, they will keep putting off important things and will constantly end up with an imminent deadline.

so, if it's so harmful for your health, why do people do it? some people think it's about laziness or poor time managment, but actually:

laziness isn't procrastination. if you're lazy you don't have the energy to do anything, instead procrastinators are always busy with a thousand non-essential tasks to do, in fact they avoid doing one specific task, not every task ( for example if i need to study, but i'm procrastinating it, i end up cleaning my room )

poor time managment it's actually a symptom of procrastination, not a cause.

from a psychological perspective the origins of procrastination are rooted in negative emotions and the urge to cope with them through avoidance. so actually procrastination is about poor mood managment, not poor time managment.

procrastination starts when we have a task that's unpleasant, but we have to do it. and we use procrastination then as a way to get relief from those negative emotions associated with the task, so basically it's not even about avoiding the task, but it's about avoid the negative emotions that we associate with the task.

we need to avoid stress and aversive feeling that come with the task, especially when we don't feel like we can manage those negative emotions at the moment. so we take the task, we put it aside, and it's instant relief. it's fast, it's easy and it works for a little while, then that sense of shame, guilt and self-blame starts to kick in.

so why do we keep procrastinating? for that sense of relief, because that made us feel rewarded and we tend to repeat behaviors that rewarded us. this can easily lead to a cycle of procrastination.

however, the negative thoughts that we have ( "why didn't i start earlier?", "i'm letting myself down" etc. ) don't actually make us take action. they just add layers of layers on pre-existing negativity.

so how do you get out of the procastination cycle?

go back to valuing your task, if it's so important that you do it, remind yourself why you are doing it

remember that we tend to overestimate the discomfort that a given challenge will bring us. probably your task isn't even that time-consuming, unpleasant and frustrating

be compassionate and and forgive yourself, it's an effective strategy to reduce the negative emotions associated with the task. you are not the first nor the last person to procrastinate, we are all human and we all make mistakes. research has shown that doing so reduces the risk of procastination.

hope you enjoyed this little explanation, here's my sources: https://youtu.be/xTEPNxx0MsA

[sparklyskies0]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

‘No, I wanna see you undress now

I wanna hear you confess now, ’

( 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 ) y/n and chris have hated each other for as long as they can remember. Never minding the lingering tension that fills up the room whenever they’re together. When chris and y/n get into a heated argument about her new boyfriend that he quite obviously doesn’t seem to approve of, there’s nothing more left to say and everything becomes a blur.

warnings : poc!reader, angry drunk unprotected sex, fem receiving(oral sex!), dom!chris, glass breaking, scratching/blood, cursing, etc..

It was friday night, rainy and humid. Nothing but wet trees and fog filled the hot air. Y/n spent the night sneaking into clubs with her friends and drinking. Not all her friends, if you include chris sturniolo. Her worst enemy. For as long as she can remember, she’s always hated him, she doesn’t quite remember why or when it started. Possibly sometime during high school, she just recalls chris hating her so it’s only fair to hate him back, right?. Point is─ if it weren’t for them sharing the same friend group y/n would never be seen in the same room as chris sturniolo.

Y/n was drunk out of her mind, Every step she took almost resulted in her face first on the wet concrete floor. She can usually handle her liquor, but tonight was a complete different story. As fun as a night out with friends was for y/n, things got cut short when her new boyfriend troy decided to pick a fight. Causing a mild scene at the club getting her and all that came with, kicked out. In her defense, it was her first night out with him. Their relationship is fresh and the getting-to-know stage is still in effect, she had no idea he was a reckless drunk that hates when his partner is enjoying herself. And just as if her night couldn’t get any worse, her friends all piled up in two cars leaving y/n, alone with hers. Considering she was under the influence her friends leave her favorite person in the whole world to drive her home, chris.

The car ride was silent, the sound of the car air conditioner, filling it. Y/n sighed as she sat in the passenger seat of her own car , looking out of the window. The view was blurry as drops of rain and steam covered the glass. y/n glanced at the boy to her left, his one hand on the steering wheel while the other is rested beside him. Chris feels her eyes on him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He comes to a stop at a red light, still feeling the girls eyes pierce into him. He double takes, “what?” his voice toned with clear annoyance. y/n shook her head, shrugging off her thoughts. “just can’t believe you’re driving my car.” the girl spoke with a sigh.

“yea, well you’re too wasted to drive”

“you’re boyfriend could’ve drove you if he wasn’t such a bitch and left”

y/n groans, here he goes

she rested her head on her hands, leaning closer to the window. she rolled her eyes in annoyance at the boy in the drivers seat.

“fuck off, we got kicked out” she defended

“because of him.” he protested. The light turned green, he glanced at the girl, the most irritated expression ever on his face and he resumed driving.

“all im saying is, you’re dating a piece of shit” he adds. This, is when y/n began to take offense.

“chris you don’t even know him.” she sits up

“neither do you!” chris announced

“isn’t this like you’re—what, second date?!”

y/n grew irritated, tired of the boy trying to tell her who she does and doesn’t know, no matter if he’s right.

“ he has to be the biggest asshole I have ever seen” he provokes. “clearly you haven’t seen yourself” y/n speaks, frustration in her voice

chris’s rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to her for a split second. “oh really?” he scoffs “god, you’re the worst asshole on the planet, chris!” y/n says, now enraged

“oh fuck you” chris curses

“no, chris—fuck you”

After those last words, nothing else was said. Y/n quietly took pride in having the last word, which she usually does. chris approaches her driveway and stops. y/n opens her car door immediately getting out. sighing of instant relief of being released from the tight space that she shared with chris sturniolo. the drive couldn’t have been longer.

due to lack of standing on her feet, y/n almost feels herself fall. stumbling but catching herself, she cursed. chris, exited the car shortly after. closing the door, he glanced up sighing to himself at the girl carefully walking to her front door.

he caught up to her, stepping to the side as she takes out her keys from her clutch, opening her door. Walking in she lets out a small sigh. Switching the light on revealing her living room. Chris closed the door behind him. “you didn’t have to walk me inside” y/n turned around, almost forgetting the boy was with her.

“do you not see yourself? you can barely walk” chris says smartly “god can you not be an asshole for one second” y/n spats

“i’m not a fucking kid, you don’t need to watch me or follow me around”

chris lets out a scoff, “no, but you’re someone who makes stupid fucking decisions like a kid” he responds “exhibit A” he points to the nightstand in her living room , a framed picture of y/n and troy on their first date, a gift he gave her.

“oh my fucking god chris! what is your problem” y/n exclaimed, “ever since i started seeing him you’ve been even more of a dick than you usually are and i’ve been trying to go with it but it’s just annoying now!”

“I just thought you were smarter, you know”

“if there was anyone I expected you to be with it would not be someone like him” he exclaimed back

“why the fuck do you care? why is that any of your business?!” she shouted out. The living room filled with silence . “who i date is absolutely none of your concern. so you can take your fuck ass opinion and shove it up you─” her words were cut off by chris slamming his lips into hers .

it happened too fast for her to process it. Chris pulled away, his face hot and almost, greedy. y/n looked into his eyes. She didn’t know what was happening, or why he just did that. She doesn’t know why she wants more. Grabbing the back of his head she pulls him back in. The kiss was hot, their mouths moving along each other, chris’s tongue demanding entry against her lips. y/n opened, letting him in. Muffled moans filled the room. Their tongues fighting for dominance.

chris removed his lips from hers allowing them both to catch a breath. He traced kisses along her jaw. They unknowingly ended up backed up against the wall in her living room, by her front door. Y/n lifted her head up, giving him full access to her neck. her eyes closed shut, biting her lip. she grabbed the sides of his face guiding him back up to her face, wanting more of his lips on hers. Chris bit her lip, his right arm stretched over her head, keeping himself supported as her back placed against the cold wall.

he pulled her leather jacket off throwing it to the ground, revealing her red lace top. His hands snaked down to her ass hoisting her up and on the nightstand beside them. After setting her down, his free hand grabbed something pushing it off leaving more room on the stand. As the object hit the ground, glass shattered. The two broke the kiss at the sound, looking down. “chris…” y/n says looking down at the picture frame with the glass the protected it, shattered. Chris looked back up, making eye contact with the girl. He shrugged and pressed his lips back on hers.

As he trailed kisses along her lips and neck. he grabbed the straps of her red top pulling them down slowly. From y/n’s pov, he looked majestic. As he stood in between her legs , lips between his teeth sexily undressing her upper half. Her breast were set free. The cool light in the room reflected beautifully on her now bare, caramel skin.

“fuck” he breathed, his face low

he did not hesitate to take all of her left boob in his mouth, his tounge swirled around her now hard nipples. The right not being left out for too long, and he sucked it hungrily, gripping the other.

y/n moaned out, the vibrations and pleasure as he stimulates her breasts with his mouth and hands taking over. she could cum just like this if he keeps it up.

“fuck, chris”

chris then trailed kisses all over her body. when he made his way down her stomach, her back arched.

chris stopped at the hem of her skirt. Who knew wearing a skirt despite the horrible weather will come in handy for y/n?

he looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. y/n looked down at him. moaning at the sight.

his eyes are so pretty and blue, why hasn’t she noticed this before?

not letting another second pass, chris slipped her skirt off throwing it down. Her black lace underwear now in clear view. Y/n’s breath hitched. Feeling her juices soak the fabric guarding what chris wanted most. she wonders if he can tell how wet she is.

chris grazed his fingers along her wet pussy. her underwear practically drenched. “look how wet you are for me” he speaks, kind of like a whisper

he traces his fingers along her folds threw her panties. her eyes fighting roll to the back of her head at the sensation.

it was as if something took ahold of chris, because his once slow and sensual acts became merely greedy and harsh. He ripped the fabric off and dove his face into her cunt.

this took y/n by surprise as she shoots up and gasps. the feeling of his tongue on her pussy sending vibrations and shivers down her spine. her now rosy cheeks, flushed.

his hands grabbed the sides of her waist. The girl a moaning mess in front of him. “shit, chris—fuck” she moaned, her fingers ran throw his brunette silky hair

Chris flickered his tounge up and down her pussy, moaning against it. The girls moans got louder. He sucked and circled around her sensitive clit.

“fuck, you taste so good” he came up for air. the girl practically whimpered. how the fuck did she get here? home late on a friday night drunk as chris sturniolo eats her out..

Chris worked his tongue some more as y/n got closer and closer “chris im gonna—” the girl moaned out, her breathing got heavy as she felt the tight pit in her stomach grow. Those words were affirmations of encouragement for chris, making him go faster. The girls moaning stopped for a split second, her mouth gaping open into an ‘0’ shape as her climax took over

she groaned biting her lip, chris stood down there assisting her through her high. she pants massaging the top of his head as that’s all that she can see of him right now. he lifts his head up, feeling accomplished. his mouth area glossy with her juices. He stands up slamming his lips into hers. she tastes herself on his lips moaning into the kiss. chris hands placed on both sides of her face. as the kiss grew more, he hand made its way to the back of her head, running his hands through her curly black hair.

y/n looked at him. her doe eyes, needing him. her hands trailed his body. she reached the bottom of his t-shirt lifting it over him. she kissed his collar bones and neck. her free hands snaking into his pants, grabbing ahold of his bulge in his boxers. he winces and moans. “fuck me..” she whispers looking him in the eye. chris, tempted but shook his head “you’re drunk” he states.

“that didn’t stop you before” she moaned to him. their faces inches apart, every time they speak, their mouths brush one another. chris looked down at her lips. biting his “what?.. you scared?” she taunts , a hum leaving her lips as she bit them

chris took that as a challenge. even when intimate they can’t seem to not tease each other.

chris immediately unbuckled his belt bringing down his pants, leaving his underwear, y/n grabbed a handful of his cock once again stroking it through his underwear. Chris moaned, burying his head down into her neck, his warm breath on her shoulders. he placed light bites along them. y/n slipped off his boxers as his cock sprung out. She moaned at the sight, he’s bigger than she imagined─hold up . she imagined the size of chris sturniolo’s cock?

she continued to stroke his dick, using his precum and some spit as lube.

she bit her lip harshly as she aligned him up with her entrance. he slid into her, slowly at first, then he slid back out. And slammed back in.

He thrusted in and out of her roughly. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck for support. Sounds of skin clapping together and moans filled the home. Chris growled, removing her hands from around him pinning them above her head. the look on his face seeming familiar. like hate

this man was hate fucking her. and she loved every minute of it

chris let go of one of her hands as he wraps his tightly around her neck. he pulls her closer to him, chests pressed against each other. His left arm still pinning her right arm over her, while his right hand grips her neck. she threw her right leg over his shoulder as her left remained wrapped around him, her left remaining arm keeping her supported. she moaned loudly “holy shit chris fuck fuck fuck!”

her eyes rolled back. chris never shifted his gaze even a little bit, taking in every facial expression she makes. not wanting to miss the proof of how he’s making her feel.

“you like that, huh?” chris moans out

“like when im fucking you”

they held eye contact the whole time, y/n practically feeling her climax approaching just by his words.

chris let’s go of her neck , grabbing her legs returning them back around his waist. Y/n’s arms reached for his back. pulling him closer. Chris moaned into her ear “fuck, you feel so good. so.fucking.tight” he groans. He doesn’t know if he can hold on any longer. He speeds up, the clapping sounds intensify.

drowning in pleasure, y/n digs her nails into chris’s back. Chris winces, but found pleasure in the pain. biting his lip. “fuck, chris! just like that don’t stop”

“don’t stop” she repeats. digging her nails deeper. covering his back with scratches

chris goes faster, he can feel her juices building up.

y/n can feel chris’s cock twitching inside of her signaling how close he is.

“look at me, look at me while you cum on my cock baby” chris presses his forehead against hers. his hair dripping with sweat. Y/n obeys, staring deep into his eyes. she no longer sees the guy that she hates, she sees someone who is making her feel like she’s never felt before.

the room got quiet, nothing but the sound of chris’s thrusts getting sloppier.

chris gasps , groaning loudly as his cock twitches. releasing his warm load inside of her. While at the same time, y/n’s eyebrows raised as her mouth gaped open, an inaudible moan leaving her mouth. her eyes rolled back. she gained her voice back in pants. “oh my god” she breaths out. out of breath. her legs tremble in sensitivity as chris thrusts slowly through her high. Chris brought his face to hers attaching their lips. This kiss was sloppy, tired and full of hatred?.

Y/n moaned into it. Chris pulled away, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of her, his cum dripping down her thigh. They both look down, watching it.

Both a sweaty, sticky , hot mess.

They don’t know where they’ll go from this, they don’t even know if y/n will remember this the next day. But what is known, is that chris sturniolo is the last person on earth that she hates right now.

ᥫ᭡ Authors Note

I can’t tell if i like this or not lmfao

anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this as my first official post/imagine.

sorry if the arguing was bad, I just wanted to get to the damn smut already

be sure to request anything ! i love you💟

xoxo paris