#because now the tactic worked once he is very likely to do it again!

[megpricephotography]

Ha, this dog is too clever & too bossy by half! Earlier today, Flynn apparently decided it was past time to go out for a walk (& being let in the garden just wasn't good enough). When I didn't immediately drop everything in response to him whining at me, Flynn wandered off... but he was back a moment later... carrying my shoe! He shoved it directly into my hands & then marched off & got the other shoe & gave me that one too.

Subtle? No!

Effective? Yes!

10 minutes later, we were off on Flynn's walk.

[arcanefeelings]

SUCKER ! | kamo choso

words: 1k

description & tw: virgin!choso - you give him head for the first time (oral - m!receiving), overstimulation(?), cum eating

notes: he's just so babygirl I can't help myself

masterlist

okay but imagine giving virgin!choso head for the very first time.

he's all flustered and blushing, pupils dark and dilated, gaze fixed on your face as you sink to your knees at his feet. your fingers are hooked into his belt loops as you go down, pulling him down to sit on the sofa behind him as soon as the back of his knees hit the cushion.

a soft huff of air leaves his bitten, swollen lips, when he sits with a small bounce. soft breaths leave his parted lips as your hands move to the hem of his shirt, fingers pushing one corner of the fabric up, up, up, till it's caught between his lips. his torso is exposed for you to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses all over, hands moving back to his pants, nimble fingers undoing his button, then the zipper, as you tap his hips to lift them while you tug them down his thighs.

you're kneeling between his legs, hands caressing his soft hips, lips tracing his v-line, till you move down, down, down. you press your parted lips over the tent in his boxers, kissing in gentle teases and drawing soft whimpers from his lips. choso's hands grip the cushion of the sofa, knuckles turning white while he screws his eyes shut for a moment.

when they open again, theres a plea written in them, something so desperate and needy you can't help but indulge him.

your hands tug his boxers down, freeing his swollen, red cock. there was no way you could have really known before, but he was big. his tip was flushed, red from your teasing and wet with precum, dribbling from his slit. his cock was girthy, and long. god, was his cock long.

you don't realise how you look right now, but choso does. he sees the way your pupils dilate to match his when his cock slaps against his abdomen as you tug his boxers down. he sees the way you nearly salivate at the sight of it, at the sight of him.

and it's all he can do not to whimper when you finally wrap a hand around him, fingers gently squeezing at the base of his cock, wrist turning and tugging experimentally. his teeth clench against his shirt, his hands tightening on the couch cushion.

his gaze is fixed on your hand and your gaze is fixed on his face.

you're taking in every reaction you can, every change in his expression, to see what makes him tick. what makes his dick twitch in your grip? what makes his hips buck harder into your hand? what makes him leak even more? because, as you learn soon, choso is very leaky. he's so aroused by the sight and the feel of you, that his tip is constantly glistening with precum.

that's when you tug slowly, moving your hand up, along with the twisting motions from earlier. you repeat the movement. once. twice. his eyes shut again, tight. its like he's denying himself from making any sounds, his teeth sinking deeper into his shirt. and that's when you change it up again.

you bring your grip higher along his cock again, thumb swiping over his slit and then working your hand back down. and he whimpers.

it's soft, but oh so sweet. and oh, the things you'd do to hear them again.

so you try again, this time, with yet another tactic. your free hand rests on his pelvis, thumb circling over the bone. and then you lean closer, eyes locked on his face through your lashes as your tongue darts out, licking the fresh pre from his slit, and his eyes snap open, a saccharine-sweet moan leaving his lips. the hem of his shirt falls from his lips and you miss the sight of his bare torso for a moment.

"cho," you whisper, lashes fluttering up at him, and he nearly comes right there, "you can hold my hair." your hand on his pelvis moves to one of his hands on the couch, gently prying his fingers from the cushion and guiding them to your hair. they thread through the locks, gripping them tight as he groans softly.

"you look so pretty like this," you whisper, hand going back to his hip, thumb once again tracing circles. you hear the way his breath hitches, see the way his eyes widen fractionally.

and then your lips wrap around him, suckling the mushroom tip, and his head falls back with a whine, hips bucking into your mouth as he cums down your throat. whispered apologies leave his lips, a few drops of hot cum seeping past yours as he holds you in place by your hair, whimpering as he rides out his orgasm.

"'m sorry - hah - baby," he chokes out, "nngh - sorry-"

but you moan, swallowing every drop you can, gagging around his length as your eyes roll back, watery and hazy, but trying to focus on his. his cock twitches at the sight, the wet, clumped lashes sending another rush of blood straight to his cock as he spurts the last of his cum down your throat, panting.

he whimpers under his breath as he collects himself, apologetic and embarrassed for cumming so soon, and you can't help the way you find it all so utterly cute.

because, truth be told, you had been surprised. but you were not put off, by it, quite the opposite. it was pretty attractive. not to mention, he came a lot - it was a rather hefty ego boost.

he gently loosens his grip on your hair, muttering softly, and while he may be done, but you aren't. you'd never given anyone head before, but you were sure that him cumming in your mouth the second you took him in wasn't the 'full experience'. and you were oh so willing to help him get that - a little too willing, in fact.

so you pull away from his cock with a string of saliva mixed cum attaching your lower lip from his tip, licking your lips and then cleaning him up, ignoring his whines of surprise and overstimulation when you move from his trimmed base to his ruddy tip.

only to wrap your lips around him again while he grips your hair tighter, at war with himself about whether he should make you stop, or let you go ahead.

but he was powerless under your mouth - this time you were determined to suck him off properly and then drink his cum. or keep trying till he let you.

[graveyard-galaxy]

This might have been said before, but…

Interesting to note that Andrew eludes to the fact that smoking, which he supposedly takes up for stress relief, was something that started for him during the year he and Ashley weren’t really talking…

Transcript:

Ashley: “Why did you even pick up smoking in the first place?”

Andrew: “For stress relief.”

Ashley: “That’s it..? If something was bothering you, you should’ve come to me.”

Andrew: “……..It didn’t seem like you wanted me near you back then.”

We see this play out in the cliffhanger route, of course, and…

Ashley: “Goodnight, Andrew.”

Yep, on that first night, after Andrew shoves her away, it certainly does seem as though Ashley doesn’t want to be near him… But we know Ashley’s tactics, with regards to this. She’s perfectly capable of giving Andrew the silent treatment, or just refusing to engage with him, until he apologises. (We see in the drive to their parents in episode 2, of course, and whilst she’s not even sure what exactly she’s mad at him for, no less…)

I think this interaction had a massive impact on Ashley, and could have very easily cemented her ideas that she is unlovable, and that if she is to keep Andrew, she has to force it, because even when it seems like he really wants her, and she tries to play his game, he shoves her off. Many have said it before, but it’s not hard to read that Ashley might have been subconsciously taught that, yes, the only way to get her way is to do things her way, here.

But once again, we do know Ashley’s behaviour patterns. Because of that terrible self-worth, it’s actually shockingly easy to win her right back over. Winning her back over will cause her to demand greater and greater things, and does seem to have taught her that crying and acting up will lead to her getting her way, no matter what for, in the long run, but… From just examples from the cliffhanger route, Ashley forgives Andrew for not being honest with Julia after he buys her chocolate and some stuffed animals, and forgives him for being distant for her for an entire year when he writes her a fake cheque for the amount she demands.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s this easy only because Ashley fundamentally needs Andrew, and because it’s all meant to show how she’s refused to grow up. She is, quite literally, won back over just as easily as a child.

But I am getting a little off track. My point in all of this was that, should Andrew have really wanted to, he could have won Ashley back over quite quickly after this, if he engaged with her games, and offered her a proper apology. But the thing is, this time, he really doesn’t want to play her game, because he really, really doesn’t want to explain himself. He’s quite deep into his “I love Julia, and being in a relationship with her will surely mean I’ll stop wanting to get with my sister” insistence phase at this point, and well, he tells himself:

Andrew: “(……….I have to address this, don’t I? Arrghh!!! I don’t want to!! I seriously don’t want to!!)”

Now, as a disclaimer to not be misleading, he does still go to check on Ashley after this, leading to both the above scene of her telling him goodnight, and also the scene in front of the TV the next morning where she refuses to sit next to him or joke with him. The main difference between these scenes and their other fights, is that Andrew kind of just gives up after the surface level observation that she doesn’t want to talk to him.

Because Ashley has always so much been his responsibility, he usually always, and after this year, will still continue to, work quite hard to cheer Ashley up after he upsets her. As a child, Renee did not take him fighting with Ashley at all well, because if Ashley was upset with him, then she would actually have to parent her daughter, and she would much rather Andy do that for her. And then later on, he doesn’t want to upset Ashley because he genuinely loves her, even if she hurts him over and over again, and he often wants to hurt her right back.

But this time is different because this time, Andrew’s avoidance of the issue is the whole reason there’s even a rift forming. Do I necessarily blame him for shoving off Ashley’s forwardness after a dream that clearly upset him, even if it was more meant to address what he really wants? No. But the fact of the matter is, he shoved Ashley off because he’s uncomfortable with his own desires, and his refusal to engage with having to address them as soon as he’s given the smallest excuse not to (So Ashley being unwilling to talk without an apology) led to a rift that had them the most disconnected they’d been since Ashley was born.

And the whole reason I bring this up, is that we see Andrew be sheepish about it, when he explains that he thought Ashley didn’t want him around, and that it was apparently bad enough that he takes up smoking to cope, even when as a child, he could only think about the dangers of it.

Andy: “What the hell, Leyley? Smoking is bad for you.”

And obviously people’s opinions on things are going to change s they grow up, especially on things perceived as ‘grown-up’, but I don’t think Nemlei would just show us Andrew saying smoking is dangerous if she wanted to establish that young Andy was careful and scared of consequences. We already know that, and it’s very evidently obvious in most scenes with young Andy, actually. The choice of smoking as the vice Andy argues against is clearly deliberate dramatic irony, since Andrew’s lighter is one of the most passed around items in the game, and him smoking is far from a secret. (Perhaps also worth noting that the lighter he finds in the basement here later might be his current one? Not sure on that, though.)

All this goes to show that Andrew taking up smoking anyway whilst separated from Ashley definitely goes leaps and bounds to show the kind of mental effects that was really having… And yeah, he does literally kill himself in episode 3 after killing Ashley because he can’t live without her, but that doesn’t make the subtler ways in which that’s backed up not still interesting.

And just finally, Andrew also claims that smoking doesn’t actually help with stress, but that it takes his mind of off things first a bit.

Andrew: “All it does is preoccupy your mind for a minute. Though sometimes, that pause is all you need.”

Hmm…

Andrew: “(Bet there’s distance now because she’s creeped out by me… She kind of already admitted she’s not even into that sort of thing to begin with… God, I’m sick… Why am I still even thinking about this?)”

Hmm…

Even whilst he’s out with Julia after fighting with Ashley, as ever, he can’t stop thinking about her, and that seems to be his real problem. So he smokes, just for a chance to get his mind off of her for a minute, where that pause it sometimes all he needs to reset and get right back to acting and not addressing the underlying issue.

And funny, how Ashley insisted that she’s never not wanted to be around him during the conversation about why he took up smoking, and that still makes perfect sense because in her mind, he never approached her, to express that he still wanted to be around her. He ignored the problem, and then it warped to seemingly like Ashley genuinely didn’t want him near. Not to even mention how his takeaway is that she’s probably not interested full stop, and thus that’s why even after she kisses him in return for the shotgunning, he views it as a mistake and tells her not to think anything about it.

[kannouo]

Voice of an Angel

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers x gn!reader warnings: none summary: the demon brothers react to an mc with a soothing voice. prompt by anon: I have lost my voice and it has sucked 😔 I shall never take the ability to talk for granted ever again. So can I request the demon brothers with a MC with a very soothing voice? Thank you in advance!!! I’m coping. A/N: i hope you feel better by the time this is out anon :( and tysm for this adorable request!

LUCIFER

• Lucifer was taken with your voice from the moment he first heard it.

• As a fan of classical music and a romantic at heart, he often drew comparisons from your voice to his favourite vinyl records — how harmonic and melodious it was, and how even as you bare your rawest and ugliest emotions, your voice still retains that soothing quality, sounding almost like a song. He never put any of this to words, though. At least not at first.

• He had an image to keep up when you first arrived. As the Avatar of Pride, the first-born, and Diavolo's right hand, he needed you to fear and respect him lest you think it safe to stick your nose where it doesn't belong. So, any thoughts that may imply a sense of vulnerability would just have to stay in his head.

• ...Despite his efforts, his tactics of intimidation clearly didn't work on you, so...

• Wounded pride aside, once the two of you get closer, he's a lot more comfortable with expressing his love for your voice. He'll mostly make passing comments about it, leaving you flustered as he proceeds to move on from it right away, pretending to be oblivious as to what he did.

"MC," You tilt your head up at the sound of your name being called and look on over at Lucifer, who lets an uncharacteristically easy smile creep on his face as he approaches you. "I wanted to congratulate you on the speech you delivered today. I'm glad you went through on it after all. A voice as lovely as yours deserves to be heard." "Thanks... I was—" You sputter, his words only now registering as you feel your cheeks burn hot. "—What? What'd you say?" You aren't sure if it's truly clarification you're seeking, or if you simply want him to repeat those oh-so-rare words of praise. His lips quirk into a smirk and he begins to walk away without another word. "Lucifer!"

• Would definitely invite you to his room using the excuse of needing you to lend a hand with his paperwork when literally all you're doing is sitting there and reading some mail out loud to him. He's not that busy, and he's not too terribly interested in what the letters say either, but your voice can make even the most boring subjects engaging.

• Also... Lucifer is stressed. Perpetually. It would definitely do wonders for him if you managed to coax him into laying on your lap and simply talking to him about anything and everything, or even singing a song if that's preferable. He'll act as if he's only doing it to humour you, and it's honestly better to just let him have that one, even though you know he needs it more than anyone.

• He won't admit this, but he absolutely has trouble saying "no" to you at times. You just always ask him in the sweetest voice, he can't help it...

MAMMON

• He thinks he's slick. He isn't.

• Even in the very beginning, he would pull "tricks" in an attempt to make you talk more. Things like pretending he couldn't hear what you were saying so you'd repeat yourself... but you got sick of having to repeat yourself 5 times every time you said anything pretty quickly, so he had to switch it up.

• He starts asking for your extremely detailed opinions on random subjects — honestly, you're not sure how much more he expects you to elaborate on your thoughts on kiwis — or will interrupt ongoing conversations because he's "pretty sure you want to say something". You have to ask him to stop that one eventually. It's incredibly awkward.

• You and everyone else know very well why he acts like this with you, but he'd deny thinking anything was special about your voice to the grave. In front of others, at least.

• If you catch him on a day when he's willing to be vulnerable, he'll be more open about it. No matter what, he's always going to be a little shy about openly complimenting you, but depending on his mood, he might be willing to admit he wants to hear you talk. The subject doesn't matter — you could be saying literally anything, it's all the same to him. He just wants to listen to your voice.

"What's that show you were watchin' earlier about?" An innocuous and, under any other circumstances, innocent question. You had begrudgingly given in to Asmo's pleading to watch The Bachelorette with him, and braced yourself for a long ride when he insisted on starting this journey from the beginning. Mammon must have walked in on you two watching it, but... you have to admit, you're a little sceptical that Mammon gives two shits about The Bachelorette. "...I thought you didn't care about reality TV?" Mammon looks a little stumped at your response. No way is he giving you an honest answer, but... the longer he goes without hearing your voice, the more he feels like the energy is being drained out of him. "...I'm... warmin' up to it?"

• Praise and general words of affection and kindness mean more coming from you anyway, but that coupled with your voice sounding so peaceful and relaxing as you compliment him makes him melt.

• He's also just a smidge more okay with you giving him commands using the pact you two share. Something about it being your soft voice telling him what to do softens the blow to his ego a little.

LEVIATHAN

• I'll give in to being cliché here and say yes, your voice does absolutely remind him of a few anime characters.

• In most anime with a diverse cast, there always tend to be at least one character, feminine or masculine, with a signature calming and gentle voice. He's bound to know at least one or two that sound exactly like you.

• Even if you didn't sound like any characters he knew of, it wouldn't matter. It'd take him a little longer to make the connection, but he'd still think your voice is adorable enough to be in an anime, and to "prove it" will persuade you into reciting a few lines from his favourite shows.

"Beware, evil demons, for I'll plant your rears in the..." You sceptically read through the lines of dialogue Levi handed you and hold up the script. "Isn't this a little...?" "It's fine, the 'demons' in Ruri-Hana are way different from us," Levi shakes his head and waves his hand in front of him in dismissal, looking at you with stars in his eyes. "Anyway, this is Ruri-chan's most famous catchphrase! You need to say it with the excitement it deserves!" You sigh and close your eyes, bracing yourself to get into character. Even if it was embarrassing, you suppose you can at least let him have this... "Beware, evil demons, for I'll plant your rears in the dirt! Ruri-Hana! ☆" "WOOOOAAAHHH!"

• Levi is very prone to falling asleep to your voice too. Not because he's uninterested in anything you're saying, but because it's just so relaxing. He'll get embarrassed and vehemently deny having ever done this if you confront him about it.

• Lowkey wishes he had a recording of your voice to use as an alarm to motivate him to get up in the mornings, but he's way too shy to ask for one. It makes him feel like a creep.

SATAN

• Another romantic here, but not a very subtle one.

• He made a few passing comments about your voice at first — but like most everything he said when you were first getting to know him, it was superficial. It's only when you two grow closer does he truly realise how much he adores your voice and becomes more genuine about it.

• He'll openly compliment your voice and, like Mammon, asks for your your opinion on literally everything. He is slightly less obnoxious about it though. If you're a naturally quiet or shy person, he'll do his best to boost your confidence so he can hear you speak up more.

"Hm? Oh, you're done with it?" Satan asks and turns his body to face you, taking the book from your outstretched hands. He had been kind enough to lend you one of his many, many books after an extremely extensive conversation about your preferred genres. It had taken a while to finish — but you'd finally done it, and it was time to return the book. "Thank you. How did you like it?" "I enjoyed it." You see a pleased smile form on his face. "That's good," he places the novel on top of a messy pile of books that looks as if it's going to topple over at any moment. "Would you like to discuss it with me? I want to know what you liked most about it... and your opinions on the ending."

• Likes to hear you read aloud. He listens to audiobooks quite often, and most of them include people with naturally soothing ASMR-type voices. You remind him a lot of his audiobooks for that reason.

• Hears your voice as his internal monologue when he's reading something with a character that reminds him of you.

• You possess the very rare and valuable ability to calm the Avatar of Wrath's rage with your voice alone. When he's close to entering a fit of fury, in that stage right before he breaks into his demon form, just talking to and reassuring him with that soft voice of yours has the power to ground him. He'll still be angry of course, but at least you can avoid any potential property damage and just have him vent to you instead.

• Another brother who would love to lay his head down on your lap as you thread your fingers through his hair and talk about literally anything at all. He especially likes when you hum or sing softly. He's unlikely to ask for this, but the lack of complaint and the blush on his face as you persuade him into lying down for you tells you everything you need to know.

ASMODEUS

• His voice is similarly pleasing to the ears.

• Of the many, many things he gets complimented for, his voice is absolutely among them. So when he hears you speak for the first time, expect a comment along the lines of "oh, your voice is almost as cute as mine!"

• And as your relationship develops, your voice of course isn't the only thing he praises you for. However, it does make him all the more eager to hear his praises come from your lips.

• He gets showered in attention and compliments from his adoring fans every single day, but when it's you, it's special for two reasons. One: it's you. The one person he deems truly equal to himself and who he willingly shares that pedestal with. Two: that voice does things to him. I'm trying HARD to keep it SFW

"Baby! Oooh, look, look, look!" Your doom-scrolling on your phone is suddenly interrupted by Asmo's excited chanting as he shoves a magazine in your face, nearly hitting you with it. As your eyes focus on what he was trying to show you, you see the fruit of his latest photoshoot; him, in a cropped top and leather skirt, posing elegantly for the camera. "Don't I look adorable? Beautiful? Sexy?" He eggs you on, leaning his face in close. "Go on, tell me how fabulous I look! I want to hear from your mouth what a good job I did~"

• Another one who likes to hear you sing. He's a fan of karaoke himself and has a habit of trying to drag you into singing duets with him whenever there's an opportunity. Even if you aren't a singer at all, he insists your singing voice is naturally lovely, just like his!

BEELZEBUB

• I doubt Beelzebub would particularly care what your voice sounds like.

• Obviously, he notices. Maybe even compliments you about it. But you could have a super calming voice, an extremely high-pitched or nasally voice, or even not talk at all... It wouldn't change that your presence itself is what he finds soothing, not just your voice.

• Most things I have to say about his reaction here would still happen no matter what your voice actually sounded like. Him liking to hear you ramble, him falling asleep to one of your stories, even the compliments he gives, they're all reliant on the fact that it's you, not that your voice actually sounds a certain way.

• That's not to say he's being disingenuous. Quite the opposite. Because it's you, he means all the things he says.

• However I can see him being another one who would just kind of assumes that you're a singer, or have a nice singing voice. He states it like a known fact. You're at an event, karaoke comes on, and he's like "oh, you should go up there." Do you remember that one lesson in the OG game where everyone gets trapped in a karaoke room that'll only let you out if you get a perfect score? Beel asks you if you're willing to participate because "you're a good singer, right?" even if he's literally never heard you sing before.

• I can also see him, like Satan, being easily calmed down from going on a rampage by you just, talking to him.

"Beel..." You begin, your tone much like how one would talk to a scared animal. And for good reason, too. When you joined Beelzebub for a quick midnight snack, this was the worst possible outcome, a day you prayed you would never witness... The fridge was empty. "Beel, it's OK." "There's nothing left," he says, tone so low it sounds almost like a growl. "I'm hungry." "Just close the fridge." You guide his hand away from gripping the fridge door so tightly you're afraid he might leave a permanent indent. "There's snacks left in the drawers. The fridge isn't our only option."

BELPHEGOR

• I hope you enjoy being used as a walking ASMR audio.

• Seriously though, similar to Beel, your presence is what he finds soothing, not just your voice. But, your voice is definitely a plus.

• I imagine Belphie as the type to get annoyed when people are talking while he's trying to sleep, or if they're making too much noise. He isn't a light sleeper by any means so such things won't wake him up necessarily, but they will annoy him if he's still awake and he isn't above brashly telling people to shut up. You are an exception, however.

• He doesn't just not mind when you talk while he's trying to go to sleep, he encourages it. He'll lay down on your lap and tell you to read him a bedtime story, sing him a lullaby, or even just talk about your day. There's no need to worry about him not hearing all you have to say, either. He picks up information in his sleep, so don't leave out any details; he'll remember all of it when he wakes.

You grunt a little as the sudden weight of an entire grown man on your legs pulls you away from your 'me time'. You look down and see Belphie, now snuggled into your thighs with his eyes already half-shut. "What'd you do today?" He asks, and you know he just wants you to talk. "You won't even be awake to hear what I did." Belphie peeked open an eye and grinned impishly up at you. "Yeah I will," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "I heard when you started whispering how much you loved me when I fell asleep last night." "You heard that??"

• He hears your voice in his dreams. Frequently. Then he wakes up missing you. Expect a morning text that is fuckboy levels of needy. "U up?" lookin ass.

[pneumaticshift]

Ok, idea if you’re interested:

Established batlantern; Bruce’s kids actually upset Bruce (hurt feelings kind of way, not angry kind of way) enough that he leaves the room and suddenly the normally super chill hands off pseudo step dad is MAD and that military background is really shining through.

Love your work, hope you’re having a good day❤️

Oh gosh, this was actually really hard to write. Serious things aren't my forte, but I tried my best. It might have ended up a bit more introspective than I intended, but I had fun writing it. Thanks for the prompt. 💚💚

———

It had taken Damian his entire life to come and claim the place that had always been his by blood. Ten years of training, of discipline, of proving himself worthy. Ten years of waiting for the moment when he could finally step up and take what was his. Not by chance or circumstance, but by design. 

Mother had sent him for her own reasons, but Damian was not merely an envoy of her will. He had not come to Gotham as a child to be battered between warlords, but as a son. The son. 

His father had accepted him, as Damian knew he would. How could he not? Damian was an excellent warrior, after all, and now doubt he would be the perfect addition to this war on crime Father seemed so insistent upon waging. It would have been an insult to logic itself for him to be denied his rightful place.

So Damian had come to Gotham. It had not been long since Mother delivered him, but after a few weeks of being granted entry into the world Batman built, Damian was beginning to understand something that perhaps unsettled him far more than it should have. 

There was a hierarchy here, and he was not at the top. 

It was a strange, tangled thing, this household. A collection of contradictions stitched together by duty, the weakness of grief, and something a little more that Damian had not yet found a name for. 

Father was not unlike Grandfather in that way. He amassed his own warriors and loyalists. He trained them and shaped them and bound them to his cause. Damian would have respected his methods, if not for the fact that where Grandfather’s forces were an army, sharpened and efficient, Father’s were something else. Soldiers, certainly, but also something messier. Something weaker.  

Grayson and Drake called themselves sons not of Batman, but of Bruce Wayne. They wore the title like it belonged to them, like they had earned it. But they were both missing the blood ties Damian could boast. He was set apart from the others in that regard, which should have given him Father’s favour. 

Blood was supposed to mean more. 

It wasn’t much of a problem. Damian had proven himself once before and could do so again. Father just had different standards that he’d have to learn. 

Which would have been a straightforward task if he had any idea of what Father’s standards were. 

He knew he would doubtlessly expect perfection in the field. Precision, control, efficiency. Those were things Damian had been honed for. The mission had rules he understood. The Manor did not. 

Father was making plans to send him to school next year — after he had ‘adjusted’ to the…family. The word itself felt foreign, like a uniform he had yet to be fitted for. He had expected battle strategy, tactical drills, rigorous assessments of his skill set. Instead, Father spoke of integration.

Pretenders to the mantle weren’t the only thing Damian had to contend with, because Father had a paramour. 

It wasn’t something Damian had expected. He was not naïve, he had known that Father must have taken lovers at some point, but it had come as a surprise somehow. It was…undesirable, he realised. A complication he hadn’t accounted for. 

He had carried, perhaps foolishly, the assumption that Father would eventually return to Mother. That once Damian had proven himself, once he had secured his rightful place at Father’s side, the distractions would fall away. That they would be whole, as they were meant to be.

A very childish notion. He brushed it aside. 

Regardless of his feelings on the matter, it didn’t change the fact that Father’s lover was a fool. 

Harold ‘Hal’ Jordan was reckless and undisciplined. He carried himself flippantly, like he had never needed to face true consequences in his life. He spoke in quips, in irreverent asides, as if nothing in the world was serious enough to warrant any kind of gravity. 

Damian had researched this Jordan person, of course, but the intelligence he received was unsatisfactory.

Oh, there were accolades. Too many accolades. The Greatest Green Lantern, a war hero, a strategist, a leader. There were classified files, buried records of missions that should have ended in disaster but, somehow, did not. 

It was all information verified by Father’s sources, but Damian struggled to reconcile it. The man in those reports — the disciplined officer, the fearless tactician, the warrior — was not the man Damian saw lounging in the Batcave, making idle conversation with Alfred, daring to tease Father.

It was a test, Damian decided. Just like dealing with his new so-called siblings. 

Of these siblings, there had been three. Damian had only met two.

The memorial erected in the Batcave was a stain on the legacy. It was a mark of failure. A Robin who was incompetent enough to die. Damian had thought it absurd when he first saw it, this shrine to incompetence. It was the suit encased in class, preserved as if it were a revered artefact instead of a mortal reminder of deficiency.

The League did not honor the weak. It made no sense that the Batman would do so. 

“Damian, are you alright?”

Instinctively, Damian straightened up at the sound of his father’s voice. He had been taking advantage of the cave’s training facilities while Grayson was elsewhere, sparing himself the strange attempts at bonding. He had already cycled through multiple regimens, and had allowed himself a moment of respite. Which he spent staring at Jason Todd’s memorial. 

“I am fine, Father,” he answered, controlling his breath despite the exertion. He would not show even the slightest sign of fatigue as Father approached. 

“What are you—” Father cut himself off as he realised what Damian had been appraising. 

He watched as his father’s expression shifted. It wasn’t dramatic. Father was not the kind of man who wore his heart so easily on his sleeve — save for the very sappy looks he would sometimes send towards Jordan (which, Damian found particularly disgusting). In the weeks he’d been a resident in Gotham, he learnt to decipher the subtleties of his father’s expression. There was a slight tightening around his mouth and his shoulders drew up as if he was suddenly bracing himself for weight. A reaction, however small. 

Behind them, Jordan was loitering by the Batcomputer. Casual, far too bright and completely out of place in Father’s domain. He, like Father, was not in uniform. That meant this was a social visit, which likely meant Lantern was staying the night. Damian contained his grimace and focussed on Father instead. 

“It’s an odd thing,” he remarked. He felt Father’s attention sharpen onto him, but neither of them looked away from the glass case. “You have no memorials for the many others who have fallen in this city, but you would give this failure a place of honour.”

Father drew in a sharp breath, and that puzzled Damian. The logic was sound. This Jason Todd, the second so-called son, had taken up the mantle and had died for his efforts. That was proof of incompetence. It was proof that he had not been worthy. Damian would never be so inadequate. 

When Father spoke, his voice was quiet. “Jason wasn’t a failure,” he said.”

“He was weak enough to be killed,” Damian replied evenly. “That is his failure."

He realised too late that the air between them had thickened. It was not rage. If it had been, perhaps he would have understood it better. No, no. This was something colder. Deeper. Something uncomfortable that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. 

Father did not look at him, and for the first time since Damian arrived in Gotham, he had the distinct feeling that he had truly misstepped. “It wasn’t Jason’s failure,” Father said. And, without turning or saying anything more, he turned to leave the cave. 

Another test, maybe. One that Damian had just failed, and failure was unacceptable. He watched Father leave, a little surprised and a little taken aback, but he would not be so sentimental as to follow him out to try and beg for a redo. He would do better next time, he resolved. If only he knew what Father wanted from him. 

“Alright, fall in.”

The order from behind came so abruptly and so sharply that Damian’s whole body reacted before his mind could catch up. His spine straightened, his shoulders locked into place, and he instinctively awaited his next command. It was only after he had obeyed that he realised what happened. His head snapped around with a scowl. 

Jordan.

The Lantern was no longer lounging by the Batcomputer. He stood rigid, shoulder squared, and all of the playfully irreverence Damian had come to expect from him was now completely absent. His expression was unreadable. Not cold, but firm in a way Damian had never seen from him before.  

“I don’t take orders from you,” Damian said. 

“Right now, you do. So stand up straight and listen up.”

Damian bristled and curled his hands into fists at his sides. He could not accept such an insult from someone so beneath him. He had faced down masters of the craft, warriors bred for battle, men who would have slit his throat for the smallest error. Harold Jordan was none of those things. He was an undisciplined, reckless, fool of a man who laughed in the face of rules.

But, inexplicably, when he commanded, Damian listened. 

He hadn’t realised how tall Jordan was until he was directly in front of him. “You think you get it, don’t you?” Jordan said sharply. “You think because you’ve been trained by your murder-death cult, because you can kill a man twice your size, because you’ve survived your own war, that you understand what loss means.”

“I do underst—”

“I didn’t say you could speak yet.” Damian automatically shut his mouth. “You don’t understand loss. You understand death. There’s a difference.”

There was no levity there. Just something brutally steady. Damian was not used to this version of Jordan. 

“I’m gonna cut you some slack because you don’t know any better, but I’m not gonna let you run your mouth. So you’re going to stand there, and you’re going to listen to me, got it?”

“...Yes.” It was a very near thing, Damian realised in horror, not to tag ‘sir’ on the end of it. 

“You’re so trapped in your way of thinking that you think loss is about failing to stay alive,” Jordan went on. “You really think survival is the only thing that matters? That the dead don’t mean anything just because they’re gone?”

Damian’s lips parted, but he didn’t get a word out.

“Let me tell you something, Junior.” Jordan’s voice was quieter now, but no softer. “The dead don’t go away. They don’t just disappear because you weren’t strong enough to hold onto them. They stay. Right here.” He tapped his fingers against Damian’s chest, and Damian didn’t quite understand why he allowed the insult to go unpunished. 

Jordan continued. “They sit with you. They follow you. You carry them in the things you could have done differently, in the things you didn’t do at all.” His eyes flicked toward the glass case, just for a second, before settling back on Damian. “That’s what happens when someone you love dies. You get it?”

Damian did not get it and Jordan seemed to notice that. 

“You think Jason was weak ‘cause he died, right?”

“Survival dictates strength,” Damian said, but even as he said it, it sounded like a regurgitation. 

“No, survival is happenstance. You can be the best fighter in the world and it still won’t be enough. Sometimes, you don’t even get the chance to be enough. Sometimes you don’t get to fight your way out. Jason wasn’t weak. He was just a kid, just like you.”

“He is nothing like me.”

“There aren’t many kids like you,” Jordan said, his voice falling back to his usual state for just a moment before he snapped it back to the firm, uncomfortable cadence. “Jason didn’t die because he wasn’t good enough. He died because someone stronger decided he should.” He looked at Damian seriously. “Now, what do you think that did to someone who loved him?”

Damian didn’t know the answer. 

Or, rather, he knew what he was supposed to say. There was some saccharine answer that would have stopped the conversation here and now. Something about empathy and feelings and all that terrifying weakness he had been trained against. 

But the moment he opened his mouth, nothing came out. 

Jordan’s gaze didn’t wave. It didn’t soften, but there was no gloating or arrogance in it either. Just something unforgivingly steady, like a commander delivering a briefing nobody wanted to hear. 

“I fail to see the relevance of this line of questioning,” Damian said finally. 

Jordan let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

He took a step back then, some of the weight in his stance easing, but the atmosphere in the cave didn’t change. It was still heavy, still pressing down on Damian’s chest, still lingering like something unfinished.

Jordan sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face before looking at him again, less like an adversary, more like — Damian wasn’t sure. He was…unsettled by this turn of events. 

“I don’t expect you to get it,” he admitted. “Not yet. You will, though. But I want you to understand something, Damian. Are you listening to me?”

Damian nodded stiffly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to listen, but he did so instinctively anyway — just as he would listen to Grandfather or Mother when it came to instruction. Jorgan had a way of commanding attention that Damian was only just now beginning to recognise. 

“Your old man is one of the toughest, strongest bastards I’ve ever met,” Jordan said. Despite the dressing down, Damian couldn’t help the burst of instinctive pride. “And he still wakes up every goddamn day carrying that kid’s death on his shoulders.”

“But—”

“Do you think your dad is a failure?”

“No. I think—”

“So you think he’s strong?”

“Of course. He is the Batman.”

“Yeah, well, all that strength didn’t mean shit when he lost Jason.” 

“That was different.”

“How?” Jordan shot back immediately. “Explain it to me.”

Damian forced himself not to shuffle uncomfortably where he stood. “From what I know of the situation, it was Todd who put himself in that position. Father was obviously not to blame for his mistakes.”

“Do you think Bruce sees it that way?” Jordan asked. “He trained Jason, he was responsible for him. Do you think he doesn’t blame himself for what happened?”

“That isn’t rational.”

“No. It’s not. But grief isn’t rational.” He gestured toward the glass case, toward the preserved emblem of loss that stood at the heart of the cave like a wound that refused to close. “You look at that and see failure. Your old man looks at it and sees the kid he didn’t bring home.”

“I…” Damian hesitated. He hated the feeling of hesitation, but it was there. Surprised at himself, he looked towards Todd’s memorial. And wondered. 

“Now,” Jordan said flippantly, “if you ever say anything like that again, I’m gonna whoop your tiny assassin ass, you get me?”

Damian blinked and snapped his head towards Jordan, whose entire posture had turned back to the lax, infuriating ease of a man who had no problems in the world. It was like a switch had flipped back into the off position, like the soldier had vanished and replaced once more by a man who put his dirty feet on the Batcomputer console and called Father Spooky, just to get a reaction. 

The sheer audacity of this cretin. 

Indignant, Damian opened his mouth, outrage crawling up his throat, but Jordan just grinned easily. “I could cut you down before you are even aware I have moved,” he hissed. 

“Yeah, but you’re about three inches tall and I’ve got a Lantern ring, so I really wouldn’t test me on this.” Jordan had the nerve to clap Damian on the shoulder, as if he was allowed to do such things. “I mean it though, kiddo. You run your mouth like that again, and I’m gonna put you in a ball and send you to space for a time out.”

“Father would never allow such nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense, it’s character building.”

Damian grit his teeth. “You are—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you’re about to say I’ve probably heard a million times before. Probably from your dad, too,” Jordan said. “Speaking of, I better go check on him. Because I, like, care about him, or something like that.” He gestured around the cave. “Now, you sit here and think about what you’ve done. That’s what adults are supposed to say, right?”

“Go away, Lantern.”

“God, you’re just like him, it’s so weird.” Jordan waved and headed upstairs, leaving Damian once again alone in the cave. 

He hated that Jordan managed to get in the last word. Hated even more that he intruded in on this conversation that should have been between Damian and Father. Hated most of all that, despite his contemptuous existence, something about what Jordan had said was starting to stick. 

He looked back at the glass case. 

And for the first time, he was so sure of what he saw anymore.

[ja3yun]

The Sun that Always Burns | S.JY

chapter 2: it falls apart

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), protected sex, oral (f.rec), fingering, petnames (baby, princess), slight exhibitionism, the end of this chapter hurts (sorry), angst/fluff, not really proofread, anything else please lmk! w.c: 17.4k synopsis: high school is ending, jaeyun has your future all planned out, but when life throws you a curveball and you make a rash decision to protect you and jaeyun...it falls apart a/n: hi! chapter 2 is here <33 a massive thank you for all the lovely comments and feedback with chapter one, it means so much to me. this chapter is a little sore if you love ynjake but it i also preparing you for much worse so!! enjoy!

chapter 1 | masterlist | chapter 3

As the end of high school loomed over you like sleep paralysis, you found yourself in a nightmarish swamp of college brochures, scrolling through endless websites in search of something - literally anything - that might ignite a spark of interest. That was the big problem, though. You weren’t passionate about anything that could translate into a career. Your teen brain only sought after one end goal and that was Jaeyun. He was all you could think about; the only future you’re certain of.

Jaeyun, on the other hand, has always known what he wants. Apollo College in Busan. It has been his dream for as long as he can remember. He spoke about it even way back when you two were mearley best friends. He was born to study mathematical physics, his mind a labyrinth of theories and equations you could barely wrap your head around - which isn’t saying much, you barely know your times tables. 

But, yet, you listen to him go on about it over and over again because you loved nothing more than the way his eyes lit up whenever he spoke about quantum mechanics, the way his enthusiasm turned the most mundane concepts into something alive. Even though physics itself bored you to tears, listening to him talk about it made it feel like poetry. 

Sometimes, you even make him read out the study material to you just so you actually consume some knowledge. His accent mixed with his drive to help you actually did positively impact your grades even if only slightly.

You, however, had nothing of passion like that. No grand ambitions, no clear direction. And Jaeyun, despite being your greatest love, was not exactly a viable career option. As much as you’d love to be his full-time trophy wife, reality wasn’t so forgiving. 

“What about Apollo, though?” Jaeyun asked, his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls through yet another website on your bedroom floor. “They offer some ND-level courses. You could do one of those.”

You scoff, tossing a balled-up piece of paper at him from your bed. “Baby, be serious. I am not applying to a college for geniuses.”

Jaeyun catches the paper with ease, smirking as he sets his phone aside, full undivided attention on you. He gets up slowly, moving to sit next to you on your flower-patterned bedding. “You could totally pull it off. Imagine it - my girl, a woman in STEM.” He gives you a slow once-over, his smirk deepening. “It’s kinda hot, actually. Very hot.”

Rolling your eyes, you snatch his glasses off his face and slide them onto your own. Peering at him over the rims, you let your voice dip into something sultry. “Oh? Like this?”

Something dark flickers in his gaze. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you don’t miss the way his jaw tenses, nostrils flaring slightly in arousal. He’s never outright admitted it, but you know he has a thing for you in glasses. You’re not above teasing him about it either. Times when you want him to focus on you rather than his work, you’ll put on a pair of his specs, biting your lip and cradle his lap between your thighs. It’s a sure win tactic.

Now, if only you put as much effort into school and your future as you did seducing your boyfriend into bed.- you could make it to Harvard with top honors.

“My girl looks good all the time,” he murmurs, shifting closer, “but you in STEM? That’s marriage material, baby. I’ll wife you up right now.”

Heat creeps up your neck, his eyes eating you whole as he tries to trap you between him and the bed, ready to fuck a ‘yes’ out of you and get your acceptance to apply for a University you know you don’t stand a chance in. 

So instead of giving in, you finally gain your bones back, prying your eyes away from his love-drunk gaze. You place a finger against his forehead and push him back before he can close the distance. 

“Jaeyun, this is serious.” 

Jaeyun groans dramatically, flopping onto his back and staring blankly at the ceiling, his cock sighing at your rejection. “I am serious. You need a college and - okay, if not Apollo - Busan has loads. One of them has to have something you like. Something you can apply for so we can be close.”

You bite your lip, fingers drumming against the laptop keyboard. “What if I don’t find anything? What if I get stuck here, living with my parents forever, only seeing you once a month or something?”

That gets his attention. 

He sits up straighter, his expression sobering in an instant. “Y/N, if you can’t find something here, I’ll look somewhere else. My grades are good enough to get in anywhere.” It’s a subtle brag but you know he’s right. 

But that doesn’t mean he can just give up his dream school that he has spent countless nights dreaming and studying to get in to. You refuse to watch him throw it all away for you. It’s a ridiculous notion, one you can’t sit and watch him contemplate for more than a second.

“No,” you say immediately, shaking your head. “I am not letting you give up your dream school because I’m too thick to get into a single college.”

“But you’re my dream, Y/N. I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go. I’d give up anything for you, you know that.” His serious expression makes you a little uncomfortable. “I’ll get an apprenticeship or just a job if there isn’t a course for me.”

There is something about hearing him say he’ll throw his aspirations out the window for you that hurts your heart and you don't know why. It’s romantic, most girls would kill for a boy so understanding. But that’s not how you see it.

“Jaeyun don’t say that,” discarding your laptop and shuffling towards him, hoping the closer you are, the further deep your words will reach him, convince him. “I didn’t watch you need an IV drip from studying so hard just for you to not go.”

Something unreadable flickers across his face before he exhales, dropping his gaze. “I might not even get in, y’know.”

Immediately, your hands come up to cradle his face. “Baby, you’re a shoe-in. You’re the smartest person I know.” 

You always wondered why your boyfriend has such a hard time believing in his own abilities. He knows he’s smart, and he knows that colleges are falling at his feet to get his brains and athleticism on their roster. But something about when Jaeyun truly wants something, like this college, like you, he just lacks the self belief that he is even good enough for it. 

You run your thumbs over his cheekbones, watching as he leans into your touch. “I just wish you could see yourself the way I do. You’re born to do amazing things, and one of them is attend Apollo.” 

His lips curl into a small, sad smile, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrists. “You always say stuff like that.”

“Because it’s true,” you whisper. 

He holds your gaze for a long moment studying you, like he’s signing a final document in his mind. A declaration of some sorts. He looks a little nervous, haunted by the prospect of something that he won’t say. 

“Baby?” You nudge him. “What’s wrong?”

Jaeyun hesitates before speaking, kissing your palms slowly before letting go. “I mean it, Y/N. I’ll go anywhere you go. I don’t care where. I just - I can’t do long-distance. I know what happens in long-distance relationships.” His fingers curl into the blanket beneath him, hurting at even the prospect of this reality. “At first, we’ll talk all the time. Then life gets in the way, and suddenly we’re only FaceTiming once a week. Then it’s just texting because that’s easier, and before we know it, we barely talk at all. And then you’ll meet someone else - someone less clingy, more attractive, someone who can actually be there. And we’ll break up.”

His voice is thick as he barely manages to push out the final words. 

Your heart aches to see him like this, so doubtful. “Jaeyun,” you murmur, waiting until he meets your eyes. His are glossy, filled with a fear he doesn’t want to voice but can’t hide. “I’m not going anywhere. I will find a school in Busan. I will be right beside you for as long as you’ll have me. And we will never break up. Okay?”

Deep down you feel his concerns too. Of course you do. Long distance isn’t for the faint hearted; there’s more chance to misinterpret words and texts, less chance to keep the bonded knot sturdy between you. And with him saying all this, talking about how long distance wouldn’t work for you both, it make you start to really question the what ifs. 

But right now you have to convince Jaeyun that everything will be fine, all while trying to convince yourself in the process. Doubts that weren’t on your mind now are, but you push them down as far as you can - stamping on them like you’re trying to fit one more piece of trash in the can.

Jaeyun searches your face for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. Slowly, he nods.

A breath of relief escapes you, and you lean in, pressing a faint kiss to his lips. “I love you, you idiot. Nothing will break us apart, okay?”

Jaeyun chuckles against your mouth, kissing you again, lingering this time. “I love you too.”

When you pull away, you shoot him a teasing grin. “Now come on, use that big sexy brain of yours to help me get into college.”

Jaeyun’s laughter fills the room, and just like that, the weight in his chest lightens. You spend the rest of the night filling out applications, finding comfort in the promise that, no matter what, you will find a way to stay together.

________

Rejection. Rejection. Rejection.

You open the next email, already bracing yourself. Another rejection - your seventh, to be exact. 

With a sigh, you lock your phone and rub at your temples. Time is slipping through your fingers. It has been two months since you sat in your bedroom, applying to a million and one colleges, and now, with just six weeks left, your options are very quickly dwindling. 

He’s moving to Busan. You’re supposed to be moving with him. But if nowhere accepts you…then what?

Your mind drifts back to the moment Jaeyun’s future was set in stone, the day he got his acceptance letter from Apollo.

There’s a frantic knock at the door, so insistent it makes your dad yank it open with a scowl. "Who the fuc—Oh, Jake. What’s the big rush?" he grumbles, irritation fading as he takes in Jaeyun’s breathless excitement.

"Is Y/N here? I need to see her," Jaeyun pants, his eyes already darting past your dad, ready to bolt up the stairs.

Your dad barely has time to nod before Jaeyun is kicking off his shoes and taking the steps two at a time.

"I think Jaeyun got into college," your dad remarks to your mum, who peeks around the corner, watching the whirlwind with a mixture of amusement and wonder.

In your room, you’re hunched over your desk, drowning in revision, completely unaware of the storm about to hit you. Your hair is a mess in a sloppy bun, your baggy sweatpants are the same ones you slept in, and Jaeyun’s old football jersey - the one he gave you after his first high school championship win - hangs loosely from your frame. You look like a typical stressed teenager.

When he reaches your doorway, he stops, his chest heaving, eyes drinking you in like he’s seeing you for the first time. "Beautiful…" he murmurs under his breath.

You look up, blinking at him in confusion. "Jaeyun? What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting you later."

He strides over, thrusting an envelope towards you, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation, mouth too dry to speak. You take it cautiously, eyes flicking to his face before unfolding the letter.

"Dear Mr. Sim," you read aloud, heart pounding. "We have received an overwhelming number of applications for the Mathematical Physics BSc Honours programme. However, we are delighted to offer you a place-"

Your breath catches. The words blur as they register in your mind.

"Jaeyun," you whisper. "You got in?"

He nods, disbelief still written across his face despite the confirmation in black and white. A squeal erupts from your throat before you can stop it, and in the next moment, you launch yourself at him. He catches you with ease, arms locking tightly around your waist as he spins you slightly, laughter bubbling from his lips.

Joy and pride flood the room, washing away the quiet rejection that has lived here for too long. At least once, this space gets to witness a letter that doesn’t end in an apology.

"This is amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you!" The words spill from you, breathless but nonetheless filled with exhilaration. You pull back just enough to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over the warmth of his cheeks. "You fucking did it."

His grin is blinding, eyes crinkled with elation. In this moment, Jaeyun is the picture of someone whose dreams are finally within reach. And God, you love him. You’re proud of him. But deep down, in a place you don’t dare voice, you envy him.

That memory snaps like a rubber band in your mind as you force yourself back to reality. You mutter a quiet, ‘fuck’ stuffing your phone into your pocket before heading to class, the weight of failure dragging behind you. 

Nowhere wants you. Not Busan, not Yangsan-Si, not even Gimhae.

You picked courses regarding subjects you enjoy in school, or rather, got decent enough grades in to hopefully scrape a pity acceptance. But it wasn’t enough. You aren’t enough.

Only two options remain.

One is a short twenty-minute commute from Jaeyun’s future campus. The other? Four hours away, tucked on the outskirts of Pyeongchang. You never mentioned that one to him. You didn’t really think you needed to. It was your ‘just in case’ choice - the one you assumed you’d never have to consider.

Now, it remains as possibly one of your only options.

Your feet feel heavier as you step into class, suddenly feeling the weight of having to tell your boyfriend that one of the only colleges you have left as a viable future is in fact going to induce his worst fear - long distance.

Jaeyun’s face lights up the second he spots you cross the threshold, waving you over with that easy, boyish grin of his. His chair is turned away from his desk as he chats with Jay and Heeseung, completely at ease.

"Baby, come here!" he calls out to you, unbothered by the eyes that shift toward him with his echoing accent. Jaeyun has never been quiet about his affection for you. The class, especially the girls, hate it, but he doesn’t care - could not give a single fuck.

You smile fondly at his gesture, letting the warmth of his presence chase away your spiraling thoughts as best as they can. He has a way of taking everything dark and making them disappear. 

As you move to sit beside Jay, Jaeyun tugs you onto his lap instead, his arms looping around your waist effortlessly, snuggling you into him like a puzzle piece. Jaeyun presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder in response, his smile smug, utterly unashamed. 

"You guys are disgusting." Jay, Jaeyun’s friend, groans, pretending to vomit.

"It’s a good thing you two are going to college together," Heeseung teases, leaning back in his chair as he pats Jaeyun’s arm. "I think my man here might actually die if he’s away from you for more than three minutes."

That sinking feeling starts to rise again, quick and overwhelming.

"Yeah, he wouldn’t last a day long distance," Jay adds, nudging Jaeyun’s knee.

The words dig under your skin, settling like lead in your stomach.

There is one more chance.

Feigning nonchalance, you slip from Jaeyun’s grasp, prying his hands from your waist. "As much as I love being the source of your collective disgust," you joke lightly, "I need to pee before class starts."

Jaeyun pouts slightly, his hand hovering at yours in a weak attempt to hold you captive, but lets you go, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you escape. “Don’t take too long, baby.”

Plastering on a fake smile, you nudge your nose with his as a promise before walking out briskly, weaving through the throngs of students in the hallway until you reach the bathroom. The second you’re alone, you exhale sharply, pressing your hands against the sink, gripping tight at the edges as you try to find some balance in this chaotic mess. 

The doubt creeps in again, insidious and unwelcome.

It’s not that you don’t believe long distance can work. It’s that you know it won’t work for him. He said it himself, he can’t do it. He can’t imagine you not by his side, to hold you every morning, to kiss and cuddle you when he’s stressed or just needing to feel you. He is willing to give up everything to be with you.

A familiar ping echoes through the empty bathroom. Your fingers scramble to unlock your phone, heart hammering as you read the notification.

Mail: Offer Update – Kyungsung University.

Your pulse thunders. This is it. Your last chance. Last chance to make this right and start your life with him in Busan.

With a deep breath and shaky heart, you open the email.

Rejection.

Your breath catches. The world tilts.

There are no more chances.

Shit.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back at you is unrecognisable - eyes red, lips trembling, the weight of disappointment heavy in her gaze. A choked sob escapes your throat before you can stop it.

You’re going to lose him.

Jaeyun’s voice echoes in your mind. I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go. I’d give up anything for you.

He meant it. He would give it all up. But the thought of letting him do that? Of being the reason he threw away his dreams? That’s a burden too heavy to bear.

Another ping comes from your phone and you squeeze your eyes shut to get rid of the tears that blur your vision. 

Mail: Offer Update: Avanti College

Dear Miss L/N,

We have received your application. After much consideration, we would be delighted to offer you a place at Avanti College for the study of Film and Media. As you may be aware, our school terms begin earlier than others. We will send you by post appropriate packages for you to start in July. For now, we have attached a link to our module selection system. Please choose your classes as soon as possible, as spaces are filling quickly.

We look forward to welcoming you next month.

Yours sincerely,Mr Suh Kyung MinHead of Recruitment. 

You read it once. Then again. Then a third time.

Your vision sharpens, the crushing weight in your chest momentarily lifting. You got in.

Somewhere wants you.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes your lips as you clutch the phone tighter. Against all odds, someone out there believes you're good enough. You have a future. The rejection after rejection, the sinking dread, the hopelessness - it’s all gone in an instant, replaced by the undeniable proof staring back at you.

But then that spark of joy fades as the rain of your situation comes pouring down. It’s four hours away from Busan. Four hours away from the love of your life. It would oddly be easier to accept that you just weren’t meant to go to college at all, but to know that your future is here in this email makes you wonder if it’s a sign.

A sign that Jaeyun is meant to flourish without you, or vice verca. 

So what do you do?

Tell Jaeyun the truth - that you didn’t get into any of the colleges near him. That the only offer you received is one that will take you miles away. But you already know what he’ll do. He’ll throw everything away for you without hesitation. He’ll give up his dream university, his future, everything, just to stay by your side.

Or.

Don’t tell him. Accept the offer, pack your bags, and disappear. Leave behind your friends, your family - everyone who might cave and tell Jaeyun where you’ve gone. If you vanish without a word, he’ll have no choice but to continue on the path he worked so hard for.

The second option feels right - a little drastic. But right. There is no way you are going to be the one to leave Jaeyun’s future desolate, you couldn’t offer him a future better than the one he had already set out for himself. 

So you just won’t tell him. Disappear forever and delude yourself that he’ll move on easily.

Does his happiness and future mean more to you than your own? Absolutely. And for him to propel the way you know he can, you need to let him follow his path, even if that means sacrificing your own joy.

Looking back in the mirror, your reflection is hollow. Distant. The girl staring back at you is already grieving something she hasn’t even lost yet. 

Now, you have another choice; make this the best few weeks with Jaeyun, or slowly break away to make the situation easier on you both. Deep down you knew even if you tried to distance yourself, he would find a way to see you. He would move heaven and earth to get into your heart and eventually rip the truth from the chest you’re keeping locked away in there.

So, you can only do one thing - give your undivided attention to him just as you have all these years. Give him all the love you have, enough to fill the rest of his years with.

You have roughly five weeks. Five weeks before you’re away to live a completely new life. You’ll have to remind yourself why you’re doing this, why you’re hurting yourself by leaving your only love. 

But it’s for him. All of it. 

_______

Two weeks have passed and two weeks remain until you leave for Pyeongchang, and you’ve mastered the art of concealing your hurt. Jaeyun keeps asking if you’ve heard back from colleges, his curiosity growing sharper each time, but you just shrug and steer the conversation elsewhere. He’s getting suspicious, his gaze lingering a little too long when you deflect, but you reassure him with the same excuse - there’s still time. Most of your applications were for clearance spots, and they tend to respond last minute. 

He buys it. For now.

With exams over and school finally behind you, the only logical way for your entire year to celebrate is a party - a big one; one that could rival any American movie you’ve seen. Now that all of you can legally drink, there’s no limit to how much alcohol will be passed around - tequila, Sourz, Sambuca, Jager, all of the above is being checked in. And because the chances of seeing any of these people again are practically nonexistent, you want to let loose. 

No, you need to. 

For weeks, worry and dread have gnawed at you, and tonight, you crave the kind of recklessness that will drown it all out. You want to get fucked up in the most unpolitest way possible. That does run the risk of blurting out your secret to Jaeyun, however, you plan to pass the blabbermouth stage of drunk and go right to blottered.

Ryujin and Yeji are on their way to pick you and Jaeyun up from his house. Yeji, having lost a brutal game of rock, paper, scissors, is stuck as the designated driver and won’t shut up about how unfair it is. Meanwhile, Jaeyun is already dressed, effortlessly stunning in a blue double-denim outfit layered over a white graphic tee. Silver chains glint against his chest, hanging from his black D&G belt, and the rings you’ve felt on your throat more times than you can count adorn his fingers. A pearl necklace - Heeseung’s gift - rests against his collarbones, catching the light as he scrolls through his phone. His hair, styled the way he likes it, is perfectly parted, his forehead on display.

Jaeyun is the most gorgeous boy you have ever seen, and somehow, you find something new to admire about him every single day.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you catch sight of his reflection and pause, noticing the subtle change in his frame. You see him every day but something about the way his clothes are sitting on him places your view on him differently. He’s broader, taller, more…handsome. Some of his teenage features lost from the long nights of studying and passing time.

“Have you been going to the gym?” you ask, adjusting your earrings, your tone casual but your curiosity piqued.

He shrugs with his eyes still glued to his screen as he scrolls mindlessly. “Dunno. Must be all the extra lifting at work. Shit’s heavy, y’know?”

Don’t you know it. You work in a shitty convenience store too, and you know how heavy boxes can be. But you aren’t exactly walking around like Beth Pheonix.

Jaeyun still sits there, attention averted to some weird TikTok video that only he could get on his fyp. You huff, watching him intently, waiting - willing - him to notice the effort you put into your appearance. The white two-piece you bought for tonight leaves little to the imagination, hugging you in all the right places. You feel powerful, sexy. But he doesn’t even glance up.

Dragging your tongue over your teeth, you step behind him, your hands gliding over his shoulders, fingers pressing gently into his muscles. “You have gotten bigger,” you purr, letting your touch linger.

Jaeyun hums in response, still distracted, and that simply won’t do. If he won’t pay attention on his own, you’ll make him.

With slow, calculated movements, you step around to his front, one knee pressing onto the chair as you straddle his lap. His body tenses as you come closer into proximity, but his eyes remain trained on his phone. Not for long. You settle your weight against him, tilting your head as you wait for him to look at you.

And then he does.

His mouth parts slightly, eyes dragging over your moisturised body, darkening with each passing second. The phone is forgotten, locked and tossed aside without a second thought.

“Fuck, baby.”

You smirk vitoriously, lips curving as you bite down on the corner of your lip. “Do I look good?” Your fingers skim up his chest, curling around his neck as you shift your hips, pressing against him just enough to tease.

Jaeyun’s hands find your waist instinctively, gripping you tight. His voice is lower, rougher when he speaks. “Shit, Princess, you look ethereal.” His fingers flex against your exposed skin to make sure you’re really there. “Do we have to go? I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest but is cut off as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a lingering kiss. His thumbs brush over the fabric of your outfit, possessive, debating whether to peel it off or let you wear it just so he can show you off. He’ll be the envy of everyone in that house, he knows that for sure.

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, pulling back just enough to see the frustration flicker across his face. “I wanna get drunk and dance.” You slide off his lap, tugging at his hand. “And you get to tell everyone that this” - you gesture to yourself, “is all yours.”

Jaeyun rolls his eyes, but the smirk playing at his lips betrays him. “Baby, don’t tempt me. I’ll go into that party and put on a show so they know who you belong to.”

A quiet moan slips past your lips when his hands beging to kneed your ass, fingers pulsing enough to bruise. His brow quirks at your reaction to his words. “Oh? Do you like that idea?” His grip tightens. “Should I just bend you over in the middle of the party and fu-”

Your hand flies over his mouth, cutting him off as you dissolve into laughter. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

Jaeyun just grins, shrugging as he pulls your hand from his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm before intertwining your fingers with his. “We should head downstairs and say goodbye to my parents.”

He turns to leave, but you yank him back, stealing another kiss. It’s deep, slow, filled with a desperation you can’t name. You love having him here, so accessible, so tangible. 

Jaeyun groans against your lips, tasting the familiar cherry lip oil that has lingered on his tongue for three years. His fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he can’t get enough.

And honestly, he doesn’t think he ever will.

“Jaeyun,” you murmur against his lips, but he only deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth so he can steal the words straight from your breath. His grip tightens around your waist, and you feel the way he presses closer, as if sheer proximity could fuse you together. “Baby, we need to go,” you try again, but your voice is weak, betraying how much you don’t really want to stop either.

“No,” he whines, lifting you effortlessly, his hands firm under your thighs as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. “If we don’t go then I won’t start swinging at guys for looking at you too long.” His voice is a low rasp between kisses, playful yet dark with promise. You throw your head back in laughter, his words of possessivness making you giddy, loved.

But Jaeyun sees an opportunity in your exposed throat. Quickly, his lips latch onto the delicate skin just above your freckle, the one spot he knows makes you quiver with need. The first kiss is featherlight, but then he sucks, a slow, deliberate pull that makes warmth pool low in your stomach. His teeth scrape against you before he soothes the bite with his tongue.

A gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Jaeyun,” you warn, but your voice is breathy, and he knows it’s not real resistance.

He hums in satisfaction, his mouth not relenting, lavishing the same spot with nips and licks until heat prickles under your skin. When he finally pulls away, he inspects his work, and a smirk curls his lips.

“There.” He presses one final, chaste kiss to the fresh mark before looking at you with innocent eyes, as if he hadn’t just branded you in the middle of his bedroom. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

You scramble to the mirror, fingers brushing over the forming hickey - deep red and already threatening to turn purple. You sigh, caught between amusement and mild exasperation. “What are you? Thirteen?”

A low chuckle rumbles from behind you. “Just possessive,” he says so simply to his actions claiming to you like a territorial wolf. Then his voice drops into something quieter, something laced with an emotion that knots your stomach. Vulnerability. “Can’t have another Sunghoon situation, now can I?”

The mention of that birthday night makes your chest tighten. You never bring it up. You try to forget it ever happened. A stupid drunken mess that makes your stomach curdle if you give it more than a second thought. But Jaeyun never truly let it go.

His gaze softens as he looks at you though the mirror, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I can’t lose you. Not for anything.”

His words turn over like acid in your belly. You think about what’s coming in two weeks. About the choice you’ve already made. About how he’ll wake up one day, reach for you, and find nothing but an empty space.

You have to tell him.

But you can’t.

So you do the only thing you can - you plaster on a fake-ass smile, slip your arms around his neck, press a lingering kiss to his nose, and lie through your teeth “That won’t happen, babe.” 

A car honk from outside saves you from lingering too long in the moment, from staring too deep into his eyes and spilling your darkest secret. 

You hear Ryujin’s voice faintly through the window, impatient as ever and Jaeyun takes your hand, fingers lacing through yours like it’s second nature. Together, you rush downstairs, slipping into the night, into the reckless distraction of the party that awaits.

—

By the time you arrive, the place is already alive. Music pulses around the walls, bass vibrating under your feet. Crowds spill onto the lawn, half-drunk students laughing too loud, some already absolutely out of their face, others tucked away into dark corners with frisky hands wandering. The dim lights and shifting strobes give the illusion of being in some underground club rather than a house party.

A bit extreme but who are you to complain? You get a night of free alcohol and a few hours to forget everything plaguing your mind.

“Whose house is this?” you ask absently, eyes flicking over unfamiliar faces. 

“Kobayashi Daigo,” Yeji answers, turning toward you with an amused shake of her head. “He was in your class for, like, two years. You don’t remember?”

You blink. The name rings the faintest bell, but you have no memory of ever speaking to him. Which, honestly, isn’t surprising. You were never the type to branch out much beyond your friends. Beyond Jaeyun.

A warm breath ghosts against your ear as Jaeyun leans in. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you a drink.”

His voice is low, teasing. When his tone drops an octave like this, it makes you want to pounce on him instantly. But he doesn’t give you time to respond let alone star in your very own party-porno - his hands find your hips, guiding you through the sea of bodies toward the kitchen. His grip is tight, making sure you don’t slip away.

Ironic.

And maybe it’s reckless, maybe it’s selfish to let him believe you’ll be here forever - but for now, you let yourself melt into his touch, let yourself pretend you’re not counting down the days until you disappear.

The kitchen is warm, hazy with the scent of alcohol and something faintly sweet. Amongst the scattered bottles and half-empty cups, your eyes land on a familiar pink liquid - the unmistakable blush of Tequila Rose. Your favourite drink in the entire world. Like fate, it sits on the counter waiting just for you. But just as your fingers curl around the neck of the bottle, another hand - larger, stronger - grips it, stopping you in place.

“Princess, you want a double?” Jaeyun’s voice is smooth, teasing as he tilts the bottle in his hand, already pouring his own. His eyes flick to yours, awaiting confirmation to the answer he already knows. 

You hum, pretending to consider it, before flashing him a knowing smile. “Double.”

Jaeyun grins, pouring the shot to the very brim of the tall glass. The pale pink liquid swirls under the kitchen lights as you lift it to your lips, never once breaking eye contact.

“Cheers,” you say softly.

“Cheers, baby girl.” He knocks his own shot back with ease, slamming the glass onto the worktop with a satisfied exhale ripping from his chest. You watch, mesmerised, as his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow, the tendons in his neck flexing ever so slightly. His tongue darts out to catch the last lingering drop at the corner of his mouth, and suddenly, the room feels too warm, your own shot burning its way down with more intensity than you expected. It’s not usually this nippy - the milky shot normally a breeze.

“You’re so hot,” you say before you can think twice, the words tumbling from your lips unfiltered.

Jaeyun’s chest rumbles with laughter, his hand already reaching for the bottle again. “I will say the exact same thing about you.” He pours two more shots. “To us, to Busan, to forever.”

The words settle deep in your chest, too heavy for a moment meant to be light. You force a smile and clink your glass against his, swallowing the second shot. The burn is sharper now, the aftertaste bitter in a way it wasn’t before.

You’ll need at least fifteen more to forget that the man in front of you is the one you’re leaving.

—

Three hours later, and the world tilts just slightly.

You aren’t wasted - not yet - but you’re perched on that fragile edge where every movement feels like floating and every sound is cushioned by the pleasant buzz in your veins. The air is heavy with laughter, with the clinking of glasses and the bass of some pop song shaking the walls. Bodies move around you, some swaying, some stumbling, all drowning in the euphoria of the night.

Jaeyun presses in close, his warmth wrapping around you as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Baby, dance with me.”

A shiver snakes down your body as he licks along the shell of your ear before guiding you toward the makeshift dance floor - formerly a living room, now an unholy mess of spilled drinks and swaying bodies. The bass thrums beneath your feet, some pop song pulsing through the speakers, though you hardly register it. Not when Jaeyun presses himself against you, his body molding to yours like second nature.

You move together effortlessly, your hips rolling against him, back arching so that your arse is flush against his front. A moan nearly escapes when you feel him harden beneath you, the heat of it seeping through his jeans. One of your hands reaches back, fingers tangling in his hair as you let yourself get lost in the feeling.

But then something shifts.

Jaeyun’s body goes rigid, his hold on you tightening - not in desire, but in something else entirely.

Curious, you glance up at him, only to find his gaze locked elsewhere, sharp and unrelenting. Following his line of sight, your stomach twists.

Sunghoon.

He’s across the room, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, his dark eyes fixed on you. He’s not being obvious, but it’s clear enough for Jaeyun to notice, and that’s all it takes.

An uncomfy tension crackles in the air

It’s been over a year since that night - since Sunghoon made it clear he wanted you, since Jaeyun made it clear he wasn’t going to lose you. And while Sunghoon has been nothing but respectful since then, keeping his distance, Jaeyun never truly let it go. He never stopped seeing him as a threat. And now, even after all this time, Sunghoon’s gaze lingers too long, his expression unreadable.

Jaeyun’s tipsy instincts take over as his hand slides lower on your sides, the tips of his fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“Jaeyun,” you warn, voice barely audible over the music. You know where this is going.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his fingers slip up the material covering the one place Sunghoon wants. That makes his blood boil. He bypasses your underwear with ease. The first brush of his fingertips against your clit has your breath catching in your throat.

“Jaeyun, there are too many people. Let’s just go some-” Your words die as he presses down, a slow, torturous circle. He doesn’t want to go somewhere private, he wants the dark haired boy across the room to see the way you crumble under your boyfriend’s touch.

Your body betrays you, melting against him as heat blooms low in your belly. The music fades into nothing, the chatter of the party a distant hum. It’s just his touch, his breath against your skin, the steady drag of his fingers as they dip lower to your entrance.

“I’m serious, Yunnie,” you manage to whisper, though it’s weak, barely a plea. “There are bedroom’s upstairs-”

He cuts you off again with a sharp press of his thumb, and your words dissolve into a soft, choked whimper. He knew exactly how to get you to see his way, and drunk you is a little less anxious about getting caught because this would not be happening if you weren’t six shots and three double vodka cranberries down.

Jaeyun smirks against your skin, his lips brushing over the mark he left on your neck earlier, tracing it lazily with his tongue. That fire you felt before leaving suddenly rises back to the hickey as it begs to be nipped and soothed. 

And he is giving it to you. His tongue over exaggeratedly flicks over the mark as he rolls his eyes back, thumb rubbing a bit more roughly on your clit. He isn’t touching you for your pleasure alone. He’s making a point. A very, very public one.

His eyes stay locked on Sunghoon’s bewildered ones. 

You don’t know that this isn’t the first time Jaeyun has asserted his dominance over the tall, slim boy. He usually does it subtly; a hot kiss, playing with your hair, or even pulling you into his side as you roam the hallways. Some instances were simply because he wanted too, others were because Sunghoon’s beady eyes were trailing on your figure.

But now he’s stamping the statement into Sunghoon’s mind forever. You are his and no one elses. 

Your knees nearly buckle when he pushes two fingers inside you, curling just right, hitting that spot that has you gripping onto his arms for support, nails digging into his veins as you gasp.

He chuckles lowly, his mouth grazing your ear. “You want me to stop, baby?” His tone is mocking, knowing full well you can’t answer, and even if you did, your answer would definitely not be yes. Not when his fingers are moving faster, his thumb rubbing you raw.

You toss your head back against his shoulder, mouth falling open in a silent moan. Jaeyun buries his face in your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your heated skin. You barely process anything beyond the rush of pleasure building, the coil tightening, your body completely at his mercy.

“Good girl,” he breathes, voice thick with satisfaction.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not with the entire party swirling around you, bodies just inches away. But no one notices. No one but Sunghoon, whose jaw is tight, eyes dark with a cocktail mix of envy, disgust, and defeat.

And Jaeyun sees it, eliciting a smirk smothered with satisfaction.

“Cum for me, princess,” he murmurs, fingers relentless as he works you over the edge. “Show them it’s me that makes you feel this good.”

His wrist flicks as he sets a steady rhythm that will have you leaking over his digits in a matter of seconds. The tip of his fingers massage your sweet spot, coaxing every atom in your body to let go, to give him everything. 

And just like that. the coil snaps.

Your orgasm crashes over you, and it takes everything in you not to moan like a desperate little thing in the middle of the party and alert everyone to you and your boyfriend’s exhibitionism. Your nails dig into Jaeyun’s arms harsh enough to leave dents as you ride out your high, body trembling against him as you clamp his hand with your thighs.

Across the room, Sunghoon coughs awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably before turning away, jaw tight, expression unreadable. 

Jaeyun, victorious, only chuckles behind your ear, pulling his fingers from you before turning you to face him.

“Good?” he asks, voice still tinged with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, still lightheaded from the intensity of it all. “Fantastic.”

His grin widens, something almost predatory glinting in his gaze. The without warning, he brings his hand up and slips his fingers into your mouth. You gasp, but your lips close around them instinctively. He watches you, utterly transfixed, as you lap your tongue over his digits, tasting yourself, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he pulls his fingers free.

Your heart pounds as you stare into his eyes, love and guilt journey through your heart - both long staying passengers.

The night is still young, the drinks still flowing, and the music still loud. 

This party was exactly what you needed.

________

Two days. That’s all the time you have left before you leave everything behind. The weight of it sits heavy in your chest, pressing down with every breath, an ache that refuses to leave you alone. It has all went in too quickly, this past month filled with so many memories that you will never ever forget.

It makes you wonder if you made the right choice by not breaking up with Jaeyun once you found out you wouldn’t be going to Busan. 

You try to push your thoughts aside as you doddle about the convenience store for your last shift. It’s a shitty job but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it in some strange, sentimental way. The regulars, your boss, the co-workers you spent mindless hours with. Even the tedious restocking and the beep of the register have become part of a routine you weren’t quite ready to let go of.

You won’t miss the bright blue uniform, though.

The memory of when you first got the job sneaks up on you, unbidden. You can still hear Jaeyun’s excitement, see the way his eyes lit up as if you’d just been appointed CEO of a million pound company. “My beautiful, hardworking girl. I can’t even begin to describe the pride in my heart,” he had gushed, lifting you up effortlessly, spinning you around in his arms before preppering kisses all over your face. That grin of his, so wide and earnest, the sheer adoration in his gaze - it still floods your senses now, making your stomach turn in happiness and grievance. He had even suggested celebratory sex, because of course he would. Any excuse to have you bouncing on his cock.

The thought is cut short when a pair of familiar arms snake around your waist, strong and certain, pulling you back against a firm chest. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. The warmth of his body, the way he fits against you so perfectly - it’s a feeling you know too well.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jaeyun murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck as he places featherlight kisses along the skin. His scent washes over you - citrus with a woody undertone, grounding and intoxicating. You sink into him for just a second before forcing yourself to stand firm. You can’t get lost in him now. Not with just over 48-hours left.

“Miss me?” he teases, his breath warm against your ear.

You sigh, but there’s no real exasperation in it, a playful annoyance almost. “Jaeyun, I’m working.”

Turning in his arms, you meet his gaze, and instantly, regret coils tight in your chest. He looks at you with so much love, so much trust, so much unguarded sincerity that it makes everything you’ve been doing - everything you’ve been hiding - feel like a slow, cruel betrayal.

He doesn’t deserve any of this.

Jaeyun smiles obliviously as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, then another, and another. Each one is soft and sweet, savouring the simple moment, like he never wants to stop. You can feel his grin against your mouth, the way he breathes you in.

“You get off soon,” he murmurs. “Just bail early.”

His lips trail down your jaw, pressing against the sensitive skin just below your ear. It’s so easy to give in, to let yourself melt into him and forget that you’re meant to be working.

“Baby,” you whine, pouting as you try to focus on stacking the cans on the shelf. “Let me finish.”

Jaeyun’s grip on your waist tightens slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “I can make you finish if you want.”

His voice is low, teasing, sinful. His teeth nip at your earlobe, and you swear you can feel the smirk forming on his lips. Your breath hitches, and Jaeyun chuckles, because he knows. He knows exactly what he does to you. He can hear your heart pounding, can feel the way your body tenses ever so slightly in response to his touch. And in his mind, that’s proof enough that you were made for him.

You shake your head, trying - and failing - to suppress a smile. “I will attend to your every need when my shift is over, but for the next twenty minutes, these cans of butter beans have my full attention.”

He groans dramatically. “Oh…butter beans. I love it when you talk dirty.” He snaps his teeth together, biting the air mischievously. 

You swat at his chest playfully, laughter spilling from your lips before you can stop it. You’ll miss this. God, you’ll miss this. Maybe you should just tell him. Maybe you should change your plans. You could find a job in Busan, surely. Stay here, with him. 

The thought lingers for a moment, dangerous and tempting, but you push it away, tucking it deep into the back of your mind. If you do that, you’ll be reliant on him, causing unnecessary stress and endangering his future. 

Instead, you reach up, wrapping your arms around Jaeyun’s neck, holding him close. “Sim Jaeyun, you are the most infuriating person I have ever met,” you say, shaking your head fondly.

Sunlight filters through the store windows, casting a soft glow on his face. His golden skin practically gleams in the light, his dark eyes glinting with mischief as he beams down at you.

“You love me, though,” he says confidently.

You swallow, your chest tightening. “So much.” 

Too much.

Jaeyun grins like a lovesick puppy, dropping a quick kiss to your lips. “Good. Then hurry up and get this shift out of the way so I can have you all to myself.”

With that, he pecks you one last time before pulling away, leaving the store in a hurry. His movements are eager, excited. He has plans.

And you? You have no idea what’s coming.

___

Jaeyun taps his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel as he dials Heeseung’s number. The call connects after two rings.

“Yes, Jake, for the millionth time, everything is set up,” Heeseung sighs, exasperated but amused at his best friends constant calls for reassurance. “I followed your strict, to-the-point plan exactly as instructed.”

Jaeyun exhales, running a hand through his hair, a bit of relief swirling in his chest despite the nerves still sitting in his stomach. “Thanks, mate. I owe you one. And the r-”

“In the glove compartment. I told you, everything is sorted.”

Jaeyun checks quickly, flipping the compartment open. There it is - a small, neatly wrapped white box, tied with a pink satin ribbon, the edges dusted in silver glitter. He stares at it for a long moment, fear creeping in despite himself.

“She’s gonna love it,” Heeseung reassures him. “You know she loves anything if it has to do with you.”

Jaeyun’s throat tightens slightly, but he smiles. If there was one person who believes in this relationship almost as much as he does, it’s Heeseung. He has been here through everything - every late-night phone call where Jaeyun rambled about how perfect you were, every moment of insecurity, every little update about your favourite songs or perfumes. Jaeyun is obsessed, and Heeseung has certainly suffered the consequences of it.

“Jake, stop overthinking it,” Heeseung laughs. “You guys are meant to be. If this doesn’t work out, then I don’t believe in love.” His best friend isn’t lying either, he has never seen a couple so destined to be with one another, not even his parents who are sickeningly in love.

High school sweethearts come together and fall apart as they grow into new people, the pieces that used to meld with one another growing and shrinking too much to fit together anymore. But you and Jaeyun? Anyone can see - especially Heeseung - that your relationship is not a puzzle but the tree the cardboard is made from, each just developing branches to fill out your love rather than break it. In the winter nights when the leaves fall and darkness looms, you grow ringlets in the trunk of your love, never snapping under the wind.

That’s exactly how Heeseung sees you both. Destined. Molded. Forever.

Jaeyun chuckles, shaking his head. He doesn’t even entertain the possibility of not being with you. Of course, you’re meant to be. That’s not a question. It’s a fact.

A glimpse of you walking out of the store catches his attention. “Shit, she’s coming. Thanks again, mate.”

He shoves the box into the side pocket of the car door just as you open the passenger side, sliding in. You’ve changed into a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but to Jaeyun, you might as well be wearing a Vivienne Westwood dress with the way you look like the most beautiful person on earth.

“Hey,” he greets softly, his voice airy.

“I wish you would’ve told me we were doing something. I would’ve brought nicer clothes to change into,” you pout, suddenly feeling stifled in the simple mum jeans despite their comfort.

Jaeyun scoffs playfully, his eyes flicking toward you as he starts the car. “You say that like Aphrodite herself doesn’t worship the ground you walk on, even in jeans.”

Your stomach flips. He always had a way with words, a gift for making you feel like the most breathtaking thing to ever grace the earth - and to him you are. Beautiful and gorgeous were never enough for him - those words are too ordinary, too overused. Jaeyun needs something grander, something worthy of you. Even when words fail him, he still tries, determined to make you feel as exquisite as he saw you.

Still, you can only roll your eyes, cheeks warm in a rose blush as you buckle your seatbelt. He busies himself with the music, fingers expertly flicking through cassette tapes in the centre console. His car - an ancient black 1998 Honda Civic he bought for pennies from a distant uncle - came equipped with a cassette player instead of an aux, something Jaeyun delighted in. 

It gave him the perfect excuse to make mixtapes, just like in those early 2000s films. He even made one for your Christmas road trip, packed with songs that reminded him of you. Most of them were love songs, but one track - Hotel Room Service by Pitbull to be exact — had snuck in by accident, and he’d never figured out how to remove it. It became your song after that, something that made you both dissolve into laughter whenever it played yet still held sentimental value.

“I think I’ve created the best mixtape of all time,” Jaeyun boasts, wagging a cassette between his fingers before sliding it in. “You’re gonna love it.”

The first song hums through the speakers, the familiar melody of Love is All Around by Wetter filling the car.

Your heart clenches with joy. “My favourite song.”

Jaeyun’s lips curl into a triumphant smile as his hand finds yours, bringing it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “It’s slowly becoming my favourite, too.” His eyes linger on you, and the warmth in them nearly undoes you. “You know, they’re playing a show in Busan this autumn. If you want, I’ll grab us tickets since we’ll be up there anyway.”

Your breath catches. The sickness rising from your stomach, a tight, suffocating thing that robs the colour from your face. He’s already planning for the future, your supposed future where you live happily ever after. 

Tell him. Just tell him.

“Jaeyun, I-”

“I’ll get them next payday,” he cuts in easily, like it’s already decided. “They’ve had tickets available for ages, so I don’t think they’ll sell out in the next couple of weeks.” He squeezes your hand, focused on the road, thumb tracing soft circles into your skin.

You swallow the lump in your throat, force a smile, and thank him. Then, you turn to the window, staring out as the world blurs past. You mentally curse yourself, hating yourself for giving him another nugget of hope. All these tiny threads of future that he’s weaving into your lives are about to be cut loose, and that will only make it harder for him.

Jaeyun isn’t dumb though, he notices the shift in you - the way you clam up, the way your fingers twitch slightly in his grasp - but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet. He knows you well enough to wait. 

The drive takes exactly thirty-two minutes, and for thirty-one of them, Jaeyun holds your hand, squeezing it intermittently. The other minute, he spends drinking water to ease the dryness in his throat, a nervous habit when he’s overthinking. He’s been rehearsing everything in his head, making sure every detail is perfect. You deserve perfection.

When the car finally rolls to a stop, he turns to you, smiling. “We’re here, princess.”

Lost in your mind, you unbuckle your seatbelt, not registering exactly where you are. As he steps out of the car, he swiftly rushes around and opens your door for you. One hand gestures grandly toward the grassy hill before you, the other extended to help you out.

“Right this way.”

You side-eye him as you step out, wary of the incline. “Making me walk after a six-hour shift should be illegal, you know that?”

Jaeyun beams, like he was waiting for you to say that, always predicting your next move. Although, there seems to be one he is oblivious too. “Ah, see, I knew you’d complain about that.” He turns his back to you, kneeling slightly. “That’s why I’m going to carry you.”

Your eyes widen. “You cannot be serious.”

He twists his head to look at you, scandalised. “Does my girlfriend not have faith in her very strong, very capable boyfriend?” He raises a brow, scoffing when he sees the doubt written all over your face. “Trust me. Get on and have some faith in your man, please.”

A genuine laugh escapes you as you see him puff out his chest. He’s impossible sometimes, but still, you oblige, climbing onto his back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hands secure your thighs. He hoists you up with surprising ease, and you gape at him. “Have you been working out, be honest this time?”

Jaeyun grins, flexing one arm dramatically as he starts walking. “Babygirl, I’ve been packing these guns since birth. John Cena is jealous.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder, giggling. “Oh yeah? That so?”

“Mmhm. He looks up reference pictures of me when he’s trying to achieve his goals. A bit of motivation for him.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek as you giggle at his ridiculous notion. “Now, hold on tight. We’re heading to the top.”

“To the top!” you echo, laughing, as he takes the first step up the hill.

Surprisingly, Jaeyun reaches the top without stopping once, and although his breathing is heavier, his grip on you is unwavering. When he finally sets you down, his arms tense, veins pronounced from the strain of holding you up. They stand out boldly beneath his skin, and you can’t help but stare. God, they’re perfect.

It’s the one thing you’ve never been able to get over about your boyfriend. Those forearms have haunted one too many wet dreams of yours - and he knows it. 

At school, he’d make a habit of rolling up his sleeves when you shared a class, his smirk barely concealed as he caught you ogling him. He took pride in it, in the way you practically drooled. Before coming over to yours one night, he’d even spent time flexing, clenching and unclenching his fists to make sure his veins were as defined as possible. His efforts had paid off - the night had ended with you riding his fingers, nails digging into his forearms, desperate to feel them beneath your touch.

“Baby?” Jaeyun’s voice pulls you back to the present. He’s bent forward slightly, head tilted as he waves a hand in front of your face, his grin lopsided. “You in there?”

Blinking, you shake off the haze of memory. “Hmm?”

“I said - ta-da!” 

He hops on the balls of his feet, throwing his arms out as if presenting the grand finale of a magic trick, sort of like the Will Smith meme but less ridgid, more comical despite his obvious nerves.

Your gaze follows the sweep of his hands, and suddenly, your breath catches in your throat, pulse thumping as you get overwhelmed with the sight.

A pair of trees stands before you, their trunks wrapped - no, tangled - in strings of fairy lights, their golden glow casting a soft halo over the picnic laid out beneath them. A bouquet of flowers sits in the centre, spare petals scattered across the blanket like fallen stars. Two woven baskets accompany the arrangement, lids slightly ajar, revealing glimpses of the feast inside. A trail of rose petals leads up to the setup, their deep red hues stark against the grass.

For a moment, you can’t speak. How can you when you’re facing one of the most romantic settings you have ever witnessed.

Jaeyun shifts his weight, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual confidence wavering at your silence. “I know it’s cheesy and cliché,” he says with an axnious chuckle, “but I remember you reading about this in one of your books and saying you loved the idea of a midnight picnic.” He exhales through his nose, sheepish. “I know it’s not midnight, but-”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, your lips press against his, cutting off his rambling explanation, hoping that even a slither of your gratitude can be passed through the movement of your lips. Jaeyun exhales into the kiss, tension melting from his shoulders as his hands settle on your side. His relief is palpable. You like it. That’s all that matters.

When you finally pull away, he’s grinning, fingers lacing through yours. “Come on,” he murmurs, guiding you forward.

The rose petals crunch softly beneath your feet, but you barely notice. Your eyes remain fixed on him - on the way his dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, shorter than when you first met; on the way his side-parted bangs frame his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw. He’s grown into himself over the years, but he’s still your Jaeyun. Still the boy who whispers puppy love nothings in your ear any chance he gets. Still the boy who looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

He’s yours.

At least for now.

“I got you all your favourites,” Jaeyun continues, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in your chest. “Kimchi pancakes, tteokbokki, some chicken and spinach samosas-”

His voice fades into the background. Your heart is so full - but a filled heart means there is more to break. And yours is just about being demolished.

“I love you, Jaeyun.” The words escape before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered. It’s the only thing you can say at the moment, scared that if you attempt another word you’ll blubber.

Jaeyun has heard you say it a thousand times before, but something about this time feels different. The weight behind it is heavier, more deliberate. So beautifully raw but…sad.

His body stills for half a second before his hands slide to your hips, grounding you in place. His gaze flickers over your face, searching, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he lets out a soft breath, voice steady.

“I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much.”

His heart swells, so big he thinks it might rupture.

It’s incredible how two people can have a heart so full yet while his structure is solid, determined, yours is being chipped away at with each passing second of the ticking clock. This will end soon, and you can’t tell who will have a harder time building back the pieces. 

The kiss he gives you next has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. It’s slow but filled with a confession of its own. He kisses you like he’s memorising the way you taste, like he’s trying to etch this moment into his bones. It’s amatory yet pure, a love so deep it defies any logical explanation. It’s not something that can be theorised or dissected.

It’s yours. It’s his.

And in two days, you’re giving it up.

Jaeyun pulls you down onto the blanket, settling beside you as he begins unpacking the baskets. The scent of the food fills the air, and your stomach rumbles in response. Everything looks perfect.

Jaeyun watches the way your eyes light up at the sight of the spread, and he makes a mental note to thank Jay when he sees him next. “Here, take a bite, baby girl.” He lifts a piece of tteokbokki with his chopsticks, holding it out for you.

You oblige, opening wide and letting the flavours burst on your tongue. 

And that’s when you know he didn’t make this.

Jaeyun can barely cook a frozen lasagne without setting off the fire alarm, let alone pull off a meal like this.

Suddenly, laughter bubbles up from your chest, causing Jaeyun to cock his head in wonder. “What’s so funny?”

You wave a hand dismissively, memories flashing through your mind - It had been your 100-day anniversary, and he’d wanted to cook for you. It ended with Jaeyun, flailing a green and yellow dish towel under the fire alarm, a burnt pizza in the oven, and his dad standing nearby, arms crossed, delivering a very long-winded lecture on the importance of life skills. 

“It’s nothing,” you say, grinning. “I’m just happy.”

Jaeyun beams at that, your happiness of the upmost importance to him.

The rest of the evening unfolds in golden hues and easy laughter. The fairy lights flicker softly, casting a glow over everything, making the moment feel almost unreal. You pretend, just for a little while, that nothing is wrong. That there’s no expiration date on this love.

But while you’re pushing down your anxiety, Jaeyun’s is flared with each moment ticking by. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time.

As the last remnants of food disappear, his heartbeat grows louder, pounding against his ribs. He grips the edge of the blanket, trying to steady himself.

“Um, Y/N?” His voice is hesitant, uncertain. You immediately set down your plate, your full attention on him as you begin to notice the tiny shake in his hands.

“Yeah?”

Sweat beads along his forehead. He swallows thickly, his fingers flexing against the fabric beneath him.

Your stomach knots instantly at his apprehensive stature. Does he know? Is he about to tell you that he’s known your plan all along? That he’s doing all of this to convince you to stay? Is he giving up everything for you?

Or…is it simply too warm this evening?

“Hoo, okay, so-” Jaeyun exhales sharply, shifting his entire body to face you. His hands tremble as they clasp yours; they’re smaller, delicate in comparison, yet still manage to steady him in a way nothing else can. “I love you so much,” he begins, then falters, sucking in a breath. “And, uh, okay, um-”

He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times. Sat on Heeseung’s bedroom floor, the elder pretending to be you - going as far as threatening to put on a wig and eyeliner for authenticity and immersion.Heeseung takes his roles very seriously.

“I need to get into character!” Heeseung had proclaimed dramatically, sending Jaeyun into a fit of laughter, the boys barely making it through one runthrough.

Now, though, standing before you, his mind is blank. The words he’d carefully strung together dissolve the second he looks at you - obviously this was much easier with Heeseung and a bad lipstick job. 

No you are much more intimidating. The golden hour sun kisses your skin, turning you ethereal, unreal. He has no choice but to take another deep breath, shaking off the nerves, or attempting to at least..

“I love you,” he tries again, steadier this time. “I have ever since that first day at school.” His gaze drops to the sun necklace resting between you collarbones - the one he bought you for your birthday - before flicking back to your eyes. “You took the breath from my lungs, and honestly? Every time I look at you, I still forget how to breathe.”

A wry smile tugs at his lips as he continues.

“I don’t know if soulmates are real, or twin flames, or matches made in heaven…but, baby, you’re all of them to me, I know it. I curse the stars every night because people admire them for being beautiful, when you are the brightest thing in the universe. You’re my sun, my moon, all my stars.”

He inhales shakily, as if steadying himself, his hands running so cold that he feels pins and needles starting to tingle the tips of his fingers.

“You deserve all the admiration they get. And if I can spend the rest of my life looking at you, studying you, loving you like some devoted astronomer -  then I’ll know I’ve lived my life well.”

A beat. Two hearts, thundering against ribcages. The love between you, palpable, enough to heal nations - enough to ruin you.

Jaeyun reaches into his pocket, retrieving a small box. His fingers shake violently as he hands it to you. “I want you to know,” he murmurs, voice nearly cracking with emotion, “I’m so serious about us, Y/N.”

The weight of the box settles into your palm, and suddenly it feels like the entire world is sitting there, waiting to be opened. His words mixed with the unexpected gift saw at your heart, guilt overwhelming your bloodstream.

“Open it,” he huffs, exhaling like he’s spent months holding his breath.

You peel away the soft pink ribbon, lifting the lid to reveal two delicate silver rings rest side by side. Small, simple bands with a single heart at the centre - nothing extravagant, yet everything that matters. Beside them, two identical silver keys.

Jaeyun shifts, scooting closer, his fingers brushing against yours as he lifts one of the rings.

“Before you freak out—I’m not proposing,” he chuckles weakly, though his laugh barely makes it past his lips. His thumb smooths over the band as he stares at it, his mind lost somewhere between the past and the future.

“This is my promise to you,” he continues, voice quieter now. “That from now until forever, I am yours.”

He lifts your left hand, taking your pinky between his fingers before slowly, deliberately, sliding the ring on. “A pinky ring,” he murmurs gently, “until I can get you a real wedding ring.”

The tears welling in your eyes spill over, laughter bubbling from your lips despite yourself. You recognise the lyrics embedded in his words, his love language tucked between the sentiment. The ring fits perfectly. Of course, it does.

You don’t even have to ask to know - he saved up for these. Every penny from his part-time job, every late-night shift worked with you in mind. They are not designer rings. They are not diamond-encrusted. But they are everything. Because they are his. Because they are yours. And his devotion to you is priceless.

Jaeyun hesitates for a moment before picking up one of the keys, rolling it between his fingers. “This,” he says, his voice a tiny bit more confident now that you’re wearing the ring, “is the key to our flat in Busan.”

Your breath stutters.

“I know we should be living in dorms,” he continues, his eyes flickering between the key and your face, gauging your reaction. “But I struck a really good deal with the landlady—she’s sweet, she likes me. And I just-”  His voice dips as the truth sits on the edge of his tongue, being pushed forward by raw emotion. “I don’t think I could go a day in this life without seeing you. And if we live together, I won’t have to.”

He places the key in your open palm, his own curling over yours, holding it there with promise.

The tears streaking down your cheeks, once born of joy, are suddenly unbearable with sorrow.

He doesn’t know you’re leaving.

You have told yourself it’s for the best. That leaving now, cutting ties cleanly, would hurt less than watching him drift away piece by piece. That letting him go would save you both.

But staring at the key, at the boy in front of you…your resolve crumbles and your heart splinters.

Jaeyun shifts, sensing your hesitation. Panic flickers in his eyes. “Baby, if this is too fast, we can-”

You don’t let him finish.

Your lips crash against his, swallowing whatever reassurance he was about to offer. You don’t know what to do. You feel remorseful and devastated but his hopeful smile and readily beating heart are calling out to you to just melt into the moment. Even if it’s selfish, even if it’s cruel to lead him on like this, your heart yearns for him.

His breath stutters, but he melts into you instantly, fingers threading through your hair, each strand wrapping around his fingers like an anchoring rope. Your hands slide over his shoulders, gripping, grounding. His skin is warm beneath your fingertips, familiar and safe.

Jaeyun doesn’t need words. This - your touch, your kiss, your hands clutching him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this world - this is enough to know you feel the same way he does.

But while his heart and mind are at ease, his body needs more.

Jaeyun scoops you up in one swift motion, carrying you down the hill and to his car, leaving the evidence of your love behind in the branches. He wonder if Heeseung’s help extends to a clean-up job.

“I need to make love to you so bad,” he grumbles, his voice thick with longing as his lips smooch at yours messily. “But not in this car.”

____ 

The drive to his house is a blur of desperate touches, your fingers trailing over his wrist, his palm resting on your thigh. He speeds recklessly, tunnel-visioned, the pinky ring on your hand glinting in the dim light.

You are his. He is yours.

By the time he parks, Jaeyun is already reaching for you, his hands making way to your hips as he all but pushes you up the stairs. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, he’s pressing you against it, his lips urgent, messy, needing.

“Princess,” he groans when your hand presses against his growing arousal. “You’re dangerous.”

You laugh - genuinely, fully. The last real laugh you’ll have for a long time.

Jaeyun doesn’t notice. He’s too focused on yanking his T-shirt over his head, the fabric slipping off in a single, fluid motion. His bare chest is in front of you now, the fading hickeys from last week still scattered over his skin.

He doesn’t waste another second.

Bending slightly, he grips your thighs, lifting you with ease. His lips find your jaw, your cheeks, your temple - whispering against your skin in a voice filled with reverence. “So beautiful. All mine.” 

Your heart aches. You wish you could tell him. But instead, you let him love you for one of the last times.

Jaeyun groans against your skin, his breath warm as he presses you onto the bed, his chest never leaving yours. His hands explore your body with deliberate intent, fingertips mapping out every inch of your exposed skin as though memorising it. A soft hum vibrates through him, an unspoken appreciation of the heat radiating from your body.

“I know, Princess,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, his voice thick with amusement. “But you’re gonna be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?” The smirk laced in his words only makes you ache more. 

You whimper, desperation evident in the way your body arches toward him, and he chuckles, his voice husky with satisfaction. With deft hands, he unbuttons your jeans, dragging both them and your underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving you bare beneath him.

His dark eyes devour the sight of you, hunger etched all over his features as his fingers trace feather-light patterns over your skin. “All mine,” he whispers, the words more reverent than possessive, a quiet declaration of something deeper than lust. His lips follow the path of his fingertips, pressing slow, lingering kisses up your inner thigh, his pace torturously unhurried. He thinks he has all the time in the world.

You’re drenched, your body trembling with need. He exhales sharply with an undercurrent of amusement peaking through. His fingers ghost over your slick folds, spreading them open for a better look. “So wet, baby. I don’t even think you need me to prep you.” The teasing lilt in his voice makes you whimper, and the featherlight press of his lips against your clit sends a jolt through your body.

“No, Yunie, please.” The nickname slips from your lips in your desperation, your voice breathless, utterly undone. You love his cock and the need to get fucked is actually unbearable, but honestly, you love how he plays with you. His laughter is warm against your skin, the vibration making your toes curl. He’s so close but so out of reach that it’s almost painful.

His hand tightens on your thigh, spreading you wider for him as he trails deliberate kisses across your core. The heat of his tongue dragging over you makes your breath stutter, and your hands fly to his hair, fingers weaving through the soft strands, tugging, pulling him closer. He groans at the sensation, the sound sending a fresh pulse of arousal through you.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N,” he coaxes, his voice low, husky, vibrating against you as his tongue continues its agonisingly slow exploration, like a tourist with weeks left of their holiday.

“F-fingers,” you gasp, shame abandoned in favour of pure desire. “I want your fingers.”

He hums in mock contemplation, dragging the pads of his fingers along your entrance. “These fingers?” The playful edge to his voice is maddening but before you can protest, he pushes two fingers inside you, slow but insistent. Your mouth falls open, head tilting back as pleasure washes over you. He watches you intently, his gaze dark and fixed on the way your body reacts to him.

Watching you wriggle and writhe gets him hard, his cock swelling with lust and pride. You’re so responsive to his touches that it’s addicting, it makes him want to just play with your pretty pussy forever. And honestly? If his cock wasn’t so greedy, he would.

As his fingers curl, finding that perfect spot, a shudder wracks through you. You grip his sheets as you arch, simultaneously trying to escape while seeking more. Your body erupts with excitement as it feels Jaeyun’s lips back on your cunt, making out with it gently, working in tandem with his fingers to coax an orgasm from you.

“You taste amazing, baby,” he compliments sincerely, lapping you up like a thirsty pup. “So fucking sweet.”

You’ve never believed him when he says that, but the way he groans into your pussy and slurps at you like you’re the last remnants of a Capri Sun, you’re inclined to believe him. You boyfriend worships you, adores everything about you and that includes your pretty slick.

Jaeyun’s biggest fear is drowning but if he was to be sucked under into an ocean of your essence, he will happily let his lungs fill with liquid. 

Groaning, Jaeyun huffs into your pussy, his fingers curling as if he’s calling you forward - or rather, you orgasm. The tip of his fingers scrape along the soft part of your walls and you squeal out, trying to run away, the sensation too much to handle.

“Shhh, baby,” he soothes, kissing softly to your clit, a tender gesture compared to the grip one of his hands has on you to keep you in place. “Was it too much?”

He peers up at you through his lashes and sees you nodding desperately, chest heaving and eyes rolling in a daze. He has you exactly where he wants you; on the brink. He just needs to push your buttons once more to get you soaking his features with your juices.

Picking up his pace, he laughs into your folds as he jackhammers it home and you thighs instantly clamp him into place. He’s in heaven. This is what being a saint gets people - not an eternity in paradise but the opportunity to suffocate between their lover’s legs.

“Gonna cum for me already, Princess? So soon?” His muffled voice drips with satisfaction, but he doesn’t relent. He adds another finger, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tongue flicking against your clit in perfect synchronisation with his thrusts.

Your walls tighten, your body teetering on the precipice. “Let go, angel,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. That’s all it takes - his fingers thrusting, his tongue teasing, the sheer dominance in his voice. Your orgasm crashes over you, a broken cry of his name spilling from your lips as pleasure floods through you.

He doesn’t stop until your body begins to tremble with overstimulation, his movements slowing, easing you through the aftershocks. You’re lost in the labyrinth of euphoria and you need him to help you out, to guide you back to reality as he gently pulls out his fingers. His mouth still showers your core with gentle kisses, though. 

He’s not so cruel to rip everything away from you just yet.

After a few moments of panting and gasping for oxygen, you push yourself up on your elbows, eyes locking onto him. His lips glisten with you, his expression dark and unreadable, pride evident in the way he studies you. The image sears itself into your memory, something to cling to when he’s not by your side.

“You’re so fucking hot when you cum like that,” he murmurs, kissing his way up your body, each press of his lips softer than the last. “Like I’m the only one who can do that to you.”

You let out a breathy laugh, fingers threading through his hair, pushing the damp strands from his face. “Jaeyun, you are the only one I’ve ever had sex with so yes, you are the only one who can do that to me.”

He chuckles, his forehead pressing to your stomach, but his next words make your heart clench. “And I’ll always be the only one. You’re mine forever, Y/N.”

The heaviness of his words sits uncomfortably on your chest. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

Before he can notice the shift in your expression, you push it down, forcing a sultry smirk. “Then fuck me. Show me exactly what you can do.”

His pupils darken and expand, melting into unrestrained desire. He reaches for the drawer, retrieving an ultra-thin condom, slipping it on with impatient ease. He won’t lie, he’s desperate to be engulfed by you, so in a flash, the head of his cock drags along your folds before pressing against your entrance, teasing. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, need pooling low in your stomach.

“Say please, and I’ll think about it,” he taunts you, his voice smug, but you know he’s just as needy -  if not more.

“Please,” you whisper, “Please fuck me, Jaeyun.” The plea is barely past your lips before he captures them in a searing kiss, pushing into you with a deep, slow stroke, his hips rolling beautifully flush against you.

A ragged breath leaves him as he bottoms out, your walls squeezing around him in a way that makes his jaw slacken and eyes scrunch shut. His pace is slow at first, allowing you to adjust to him for at least a few minutes before restraint gives way to need. His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and his left hand finds yours, fingers intertwining, a silent tether that brings you even closer together.

His lips brush against your pinky, a soft kiss against the silver ring he gave you, a promise to always be yours embedded in the gesture. And before you know it, it’s all too much and you begin to cry feel the tears before you realise you’re crying. 

All your emotions come out at once due to his sweet actions because suddenly it’s too hard to bottle everything up. The love, the fear, the disappointment, the guilt, the anguish. It’s all flooding from your eyes as your heart bursts with ache.

Jaeyun notices how your chest begins to vibrate, and not in the gasping for air because he’s fucking you so good kind of way. No. It’s shaking through sobs and he immediately pauses his ministrations.

“Hey,” he kisses your tears, his voice laced with concern. “Princess, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you try and rid yourself of the abundance of emotion. “No, baby,” your voice wobbles, raw and filled with everything you can’t say. “I just love you so much, that’s all.”

Jaeyun has his doubts for a second, your eyes glinting in sadness - it’s so fast he almost doesn’t catch it. But concern is washed away as you lean up to kiss him, soft and gentle. The love in your lips conveying enough to put his mind at ease. 

Drawing back and brushing the tears from your cheeks, Jaeyun smiles down at you. “You had me worried, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. Till my last dying breath, okay?”

Your heart twists painfully, but his slow thrusts pull you back to the moment, grounding you in the way he moves, in the way he makes you feel.

And right now, that’s all that matters.

He groans against your ear, his pace growing rougher, more desperate now that he knows your okay. The heat between you is overwhelming, bodies moving in sync, chasing that inevitable bliss. His hand slips between you, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing tight, pressuered circles.

“You’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” His voice is thick, strained with pleasure. “I can feel it. Let me have it, baby.”

The pressure builds, overwhelming, the pleasure winding so tightly it feels like you might snap apart. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, his thrusts driving deeper, hitting all the right places. And then it happens again - the coil within you shatters, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your entire body trembling beneath him.

He groans loudly as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, your release pulling him over the edge with you. His thrusts turning erratic as his control frays and he follows you into bliss. His body stills, buried deep inside you, his breath coming in ragged pants against you, spilling into the condom.

For a moment, neither of you move, caught in the haze of each other. Then, with a shaky laugh, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips. “Perfect,” he murmurs, still breathless. “You’re perfect.”

You curl into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you, not one of you bothering to part just yet - enjoying the intimacy of just being connected to one another like this.

If only you could stay like this forever.

________

The morning sun spills through Jaeyun’s window, casting a dawning glow over the room. Your boyfriend’s body is draped over yours, the warmth of his bare skin pressed against you like a safety you know you can no longer allow yourself to have. His breath is slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest soothing as he sleeps peacefully, a contrast to how you are feeling right now. 

The silver ring on his pinky glints in the sunlight, catching your eye like a cruel reminder of what you are about to do. Why the fuck didn’t you tell him last night?

You now have one more day with him - one more chance to hold onto this love - but after last night, you know you can’t risk another second in his presence.

Every inch of you screams that this is a mistake. If you love him this much, surely you can make long distance work. But it’s just not that simple. You’ve already made your choice, and now you have to live with it. 

Jaeyun will be fine. Busan is full of beautiful girls - girls who are interesting, spectacular, and everything he will need in a partner. He won’t need you anymore. He will find someone else, someone who won’t run. 

Deep down, you know this will hurt him, but he’s strong. He’ll get over it.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slip out from under his arm as gently as possible, heart clenching in panic when he stirs - luckily for you doesn’t wake up. You keep your movements careful, as if the universe might give you more time if you just move slowly enough. Every glance at him - his tousled hair, his puffy lips that you love to kiss so much parted slightly in sleep - makes it harder to breathe. 

You are so stupid for this. Leaving him because you are terrified of losing him later on. It’s ridiculous and you’re being selfish.

I can’t do long distance. His voice echoes in your brain, pushing down your apprehensions regarding your next decision.

Your fingers tremble as you slide the ring off your pinky. Despite only having it for a few hours, it feels wrong that it’s gone. You hesitate, just for a second, before placing it on his dresser. The thought of leaving a note crosses your mind, but as Jaeyun shifts in his sleep, you realise there’s no time. You need to go before you lose your last bit of resolve.

Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, you hold back tears. He looks so innocent and unaware…you can’t imagine what he’ll be like once he wakes up. You can’t be here for that. 

So you get dressed quickly, shuffling down his stairs and out the front door. You’re met with the sharp bite of the morning air. The sun is dulling and the wind carries an unforgiving chill that cuts through you. You already know it’s going to pour later. As if the universe is mourning your decision before you can.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, hands still shaking, scared that he’s noticed already. But surprisingly, it’s from Avanti.

Mail: From: Avanti College RE: Housing Enquiry.

Dear Y/N L/N,

I am responding to your inquiry regarding accommodation. The room is available as of today, however, there is no concierge available to give you your keys as there has been a slight altercation in housing arrangements. Your assigned roommate has been made aware of your occupancy and will let you in once you arrive. Your key should be ready for you next week. Sorry about the miscommunication as I know you are eager to get settled.

Kind Regards,Cho Min WooHead of Accommodation and Living.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. It’s done. You have somewhere to go. No turning back now. 

You start running. You need to grab your bag, book the bus, and go before your heart betrays you. No hesitation. No overthinking. Just leave.

Thankfully, you had packed days ago, anticipating that you might need to flee at a moment’s notice, feelings overwhelming causing you to overthink and overpack. But you can’t just disappear. If you vanish without a trace, your parents will panic, call the cops or do something drastic. But if you tell them where you’re going, they will for sure tell Jaeyun your whereabouts. The last thing you need is him chasing after you, sacrificing everything to run to you.

Once you’re home, you grab a notepad and scribble a rushed message to your parents. You don’t explain, don’t justify. Just the bare minimum: you need a fresh start in a new city. You need space, everything too overwhelming. It’s not much, but it’s enough for them to know you’ll be safe.

You sign your name with a shaking hand, placing hugs and kisses as if that will ease the blow.

This is it. No more seeing your room. No more home-cooked meals. No more Jaeyun.

You’ve fucked up so badly, but you have to see this through. You made your bed, now it’s time to lie in it.

___

The bus jam packed. You were lucky to get one of the last two seats on the coach bound for Pyeongchang. The hum of conversation surrounds you but you don’t earwig on any of it. Your hands won’t stop shaking as you stare at your phone, scrolling through the endless missed calls and messages.

Incoming Call: my love <3

You watch it ring until it stops. Then you scroll through the notifications.

Missed Call (67) my love <3Missed Call (34) dadMissed Call (23) mum

Your chest tightens as you finally open Jaeyun’s messages.

07:30am princess, where are you? 07:30am are you coming back to bed? xx 07:49am Y/N, i’m getting worried. 07:52am pick up your phone, baby. please talk to me. 07:52am if i pushed you too far yesterday, i’m sorry… 08:16am why are your parents saying you’ve left? 08:16am baby, don’t do this. 08:17 m what does your letter mean? ‘I need a fresh start from everyone and everything’?? 08:17am you aren’t leaving, right? you’re not leaving me, are you? 08:23am please, please, please.

The messages go on and on, each one more desperate than the last. Your vision blurs with tears as you scroll down. The latest ones, sent only minutes ago, send a shiver down your spine.

10:32 am i ill search every part of this country until i find you.10:32 am you can’t expect me to just forget about you. 

10:35 am: will you please answer your fucking phone!10:47 am Y/N…i can’t make you answer me, or love me, but please just know i love you and i’m sorry for whatever i did. i’m leaving for Busan in two weeks so you should come home then. you won’t hear from me again but don’t leave your parents like this, baby. they can’t lose you.10:48 am I can’t lose you either to be honest but if it’s what you want…I’ll go.

Another message appears just as the tears spill over onto your cheeks.

10:51 am i love you so fucking much, Y/N. i won’t ever stop. my heart is yours, always. until the sun stops burning.

A sob rips from your throat, loud and raw. The sound fills the bus, drawing the attention of every passenger. You slap a hand over your mouth, bowing in silent apology as the embarrassment burns hot in your chest. Then, without another thought, you block his number.

You will get a new phone when you reach Pyeongchang. A fresh start. No more attachments. No more looking back.

But as the bus pulls away from the station, leaving your past behind, you press your forehead against the window and let the tears fall.

Jaeyun will be fine.

Eventually, he will be fine.

You just have to keep telling yourself that.

_______

Jaeyun’s heart has not stopped breaking since you’ve left, the pieces crumbling in a silence so loud it nearly suffocates him. He believed, with every fibre of his being, that the future you painted together was real - that your love is something solid, something unbreakable. To learn that you have already planned a life without him, that you are gone without a word, tears through him like a blade. 

It fucking hurts - not just in his chest, but deep, right down to his bones. He can’t find the strength to confront it, can’t make sense of what’s happening. 

Had he misunderstood? Had he pushed you into a life you didn’t want? Had his love, his promises, meant nothing to you? He can’t reconcile the girl he has spent so many nights dreaming of a future with, the girl who smiled at him through late-night talks about forever, with the one who has left him behind without a trace.

When he pulls into the driveway of his home after spending hours searching for you, he sees Heeseung’s car is there, an unwelcome reminder that the world has unfortunately keeps moving while his has shattered. He doesn’t have the energy to face his friend, not now, not when every thought in his head is tangled up in confusion and heartbreak. 

He loves Heeseung, of course he does, but right now, he needs to be alone. He needs to think and process, try and make sense of the wreckage of the morning. But he trudges up the stairs regardless, ignoring his parents’ concerned questions, ‘Where have you been?’, ‘Are you okay?’. He doesn’t know anything other than the fact that he has a hole in his chest.

Pushing his bedroom door open, Heeseung’s voice meets him with a bitter cheerfulness - clear he hasn’t noticed the way Jaeyun’s eyes are still swollen from the tears. “Jake, my man! How did it go? You went radio silent last night, so I’m assuming that means things went well,” Heeseung wiggles his brows as he waits for the fairytale update from his best friend.

But that’s the last thing he’ll receive today. The fairytale quickly turned into a Brothers Grimm nightmare.

Jaeyun’s gaze is fixed on the floor, his head hung low to hide the evidence of his heartache - not that it does much good. His throat is tight, his words caught behind a wall of emotion he can’t seem to break through. This makes Heeseung perk to attention, finally seeing the distress.

“Jake?” Heeseung’s voice softens, concern lining it now. “You okay?”

Jaeyun can’t answer, his eyes fixated on the silver ring. The one that belongs to you. The one meant to seal your futures together. It sits on his bedside table taunting and bitter. A new wave of sadness floods him and he tilts his head back in an attempt to stifle the tears, but they come anyway, hot and relentless. 

The sight of it is too much and Jaeyun’s remaining composure cracks. The sobs are impossible to control now, and Heeseung, without hesitation, pulls him into a tight embrace, squeezing him tightly. He holds him as if he could absorb some of the hurt, but nothing will ease this ache.

“She…left,” Jaeyun manages to choke out, the words hardly forming in his mouth before the tears take over.

Heeseung freezes, a stunned silence hanging between them. His hands grip Jaeyun’s shoulders, pulling him back to look at him with disbelief. “What do you mean, she left?”

Jaeyun’s voice breaks, his chest heaving with each ragged, uncontrollable sobs. “She left everything. Me, us...her family…she left it all behind.”

The words seem to cut deeper than the pain itself. Heeseung’s face twists in confusion, his jaw tightening. This is not like you. You wouldn’t go anywhere without Jaeyun let alone leave him without even so much as a goodbye. She’s been kidnapped is Heeseung’s first thought but thats ludicrous. This isn’t a Liam Neeson film.

“Let me call her,” he offers, reaching for his phone, though he knows it’s futile.

“No use,” Jaeyun replies, his voice hollow, devoid of any emotion other than pure agony. “She won’t answer. It’s gone straight to voicemail. Not even her mum can reach her.”

With shaky hands, Jaeyun pulls the note you wrote for your parents from his jeans pocket, handing it to Heeseung in silence. As his friend reads it, Jaeyun turns towards the ring on the table, staring at it as though it were a foreign object. His fingers tremble as he picks it up, turning it over and over in his hands. Every promise he made to you - each word, each moment spent dreaming of a shared future - feels like a cruel joke now. 

The ring should have been reassurance. Hadn’t it been? 

Why would you fucking leave?

Heeseung’s voice breaks through his thoughts, sharp and angry. “What the fuck?” The elder is pacing now, holding the letter like it’s something foul. “What the fuck is she thinking?”

His quetsion is met with a shrug from the heartbroken boy.

“So she didn’t accept the ring and decided to just fuck off?”

Jaeyun shakes his head, the tears flowing freely now, blurring his vision. “She accepted it. Last night was perfect. It was this morning that she left.” He meets Heeseung’s gaze, a tear slipping down his cheek. “What did I do wrong, Hee?”

Nothing. Heeseung knows he did absolutely nothing wrong. He can see the pain in Jaeyun’s eyes, he can feel the weight of his friend’s heartache pressing in on him. It’s suffocating and clinging to every fibre of the room.

With a frustrated sigh, Heeseung pulls Jaeyun into another hug, holding him tighter this time, trying to ground him. Jaeyun has always been the one with the softer heart, and right now, that heart is breaking in a way that even Heeseung can’t fix.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jake. I don’t get what’s going on in her head, but you didn’t mess up. She’s just-”

But Jaeyun pushes back, his voice low and protective as he cuts his best friend off from saying something he’ll regret. “Don’t. Don’t talk about her like that. You don’t know her. She wouldn’t do this without a reason.”

“And what? She couldn’t tell you what the reason was and instead pussied out and left?” Heeseung is seeing red. “She should have told you she was leaving last night before she got your hopes up and accepted that ring, no? That’s fucked up.” 

Jaeyun knows somewhere in his heart that Heeseung is right, but his love for you is still as strong as ever and his instincts kick in to defend you. He pushes Heeseung away, his voice dangerously quiet. “Fuck you. You don’t get to speak about her like that. I might not understand it now, but I don’t doubt in my mind she did it for a reason she thought was valid. She wouldn’t have told me last night to protect my feelings.” 

Heeseung’s eyes flare with frustration, and for a moment, it seems like he might say something else. But instead, he scoffs, his words bitter. “Yeah? Well, how does it feel now? Do your feelings feel protected?” Silence. The whole house is still as he scoffs and sticks his tongue in his cheek, landing the final blow. “Think about that and tell me she did this out of love for you.” 

Jaeyun stands in stunned silence as Heeseung storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jaeyun’s fists clench at his sides. How can Heeseung speak like that, when he doesn’t know the real reason behind your departure? Jaeyun is furious, but there’s something else - something even more painful. He’s envious of Heeseung’s anger. He wishes he could just let it all out like that, wishes he could scream and rage, but instead, he just lets the pain sit, lets it fester. He needs a few more days of this hurt, of this confusion, before he can face what’s coming.

And what’s coming…is a life without you in it.

taglist: @yzzyhee @dollyyun @sunpov @dreamy-carat

@ioveseong @katarinamae @viagumi @jakeswifez

@shuichi-sama @m1kkso @no1likeneo @pshfan0812

@fancypeacepersona @hoonieyun @jaepen @lovingvoidgoatee

@parksunghoonsgf @capri-cuntz @yvnempire @mei3425

@enhastolemyheart @ikeulove @riribelle @nshmrarki

@firstclassjaylee @ikeuwoniee @ang0308 @jaykesgirl @addictedtohobi

@jayeoniee @jakessrealwife @zyvlxqht

[radioactiverats]

Curious question, (First, I love your mentor Starscream x seeker reader fics) what would it be like if Thundercracker and Skywarp were around? Because I keep imagining them as those weird uncles who decided to annoy Starscream by pulling reader into their shenanigans.

Hello, first of all thank you so much for reading! I absolutely love the idea of elite uncles. Starscream moaning that Skywarp has led you astray (shitty flying habits. Taking you out for your first drink of engex and trying to hide the fact that ur shitfaced before Starscream comes to skin you both. Oooh there's an idea). For now my brain vomited this out but thank u for the prompt I will prob return to it again!!

------

You’ve never formally met Starscream’s trine. The first reason being that he is fiercely protective of you, even if he’ll never admit it. Despite the bond he shares with his trine, he wants to keep outsider interference to a minimum - he gets one chance at keeping you safe, and if even one of Skywarp’s pranks go awry… in the privacy of his own processor, Starscream has never dared to finish that thought.

However, things have changed. As Megatron’s bloodthirstiness grows by the day, Starscream, like any good tactician, knows that the current strategy won’t work for much longer. With only him standing between you and Megatron’s idle and violent whims, he is regrettably forced to admit that he needs help to guarantee your survival. So what if a teensy part of him doesn’t want to share your attention? If you offline, he won’t have any of your attention at all.

As SIC, any overt moves will attract Megatron’s attention - so Starscream finds a tactical excuse. Your first group mission, he proposes under the guise of ‘training’ - to tag along with the Elite Trine.

Starscream is incredibly stiff when he informs you of the meeting - he’s usually forthcoming with details in your presence as he rants freely about something or other. But this time, he remains oddly tight-lipped, refusing to tell you who you’re about to see.

“As long as it’s not Megatron, I think it’ll be fine,” You finally mutter when you grow exasperated with his evasiveness. It seems to ease the mood a little because Starscream pauses, and you watch some of the tension bleed from his wings.

“It’s not,” He says at last. “Thank Primus for that.”

With that out of the way, you assure yourself it can't be that bad, beginning to grow curious as you follow Starscream to the open, grassy plain that has now become very familiar to you. Would it be someone you already knew? Or someone you’ve never met before?

Starscream stops when you reach the scuffed circle of earth that has more or less been forcibly converted into a landing pad. A sudden gust of wind ruffles the dry grass and Starscream nods curtly, although the expression on his faceplate seems slightly pinched. “Here they come.”

The distant roar of jet engines reach your audials and you squint as you spy to rapidly approaching blurs from the horizon. Blue and… was that… purple? There’s only two jets with this colour scheme that you know of. Your helm whips up to stare at Starscream in disbelief, but he stubbornly continues to stare straight ahead, optics tracking the approaching jets.

The clicking and whirring of transformation replaces the screech of fiery thrusters - with an impact that shakes the very earth, Skywarp and Thundercracker are standing before you. It's your first time being face to face with them - you're instantly struck by how similar they look to Starscream, all at once familiar and unfamiliar. It's uncanny, and you shrink back a little, choosing instead to study the freshly turned dirt circle around you. At least your landing pad is much bigger now.

“Screamer!”

“You call that a landing?” Screamer snaps. “I’ve seen sparklings do better than that.”

“Aw, lay off,” Thundercracker mutters. “It’s been ages since we last met.”

He turns to Skywarp. “But he’s right, you know.”

“Hey!”

The Elite Trine. To ordinary seekers, they were the stuff of legend - that aside though, you were busy drinking in this side of Starscream. Arms crossed, trading banter with Thundercracker - more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. Distracted, you don’t notice Skywarp sidling closer to you, and you yelp when his voice comes right next to your audial.

“This the ‘sparkling’?”

Starscream whips around so fast that you can’t help but flinch at the further damage done to your landing pad.

"Hello," you greet awkwardly. Should you be going for formality? You may have the privilege of being familiar with Starscream, but these are still your superiors, after all. Skywarp, however, has no such qualms, a smirk on his faceplate as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “So you’re the one Screamer won’t stop talking about, huh?” You blink, and the words are out before you can stop them. “He talks about me?”

You both look over at Starscream, who’s looking more and more constipated by the nanoklik, an undeniable flush of energon on his faceplate dampening the might of his scowl - you looking with an expression of puppy-eyed wonder and Skywarp with a shit-eating grin.

“Sure he does. He tells us tons of stuff - okay, okay - stop glaring at me like that. Does he talk about us? You know who I am?”

“Um,” You say. Of course you know who he is. But Starscream has… not talked about them, for reasons that he has deliberately kept from you. You’re not sure where you stand in this, but before you really begin to flounder, Thundercracker mercifully comes to your rescue.

“Let go, Skywarp,” He scolds. “You’re throttling the poor thing.” You gratefully stagger towards Starscream, who’d already taken a step forwards when Skywarp sulkily releases you - his enthusiasm had been rapidly turning into a very friendly headlock. Thundercracker sighs, finally turning to you.

“My designation is Thundercracker. We are a trine - you don’t need to worry about formalities. Your trust in Starscream can be extended to us, too.”

You know his designation as well, of course, but find yourself nodding along to the gentle cadence of his tone. It seemed that Thundercracker had a way of making others feel at ease. Even Starscream, whose wings had been twitchy all week in preparation to tell you of the meeting - was looking calm. Well, calmer. He’d nodded at you as Thundercracker spoke, looking relieved that someone more well-versed in emotions had translated his intentions into words before he had to do it himself.

Tentatively, you decide that you like them - independent of their relationship to Starscream. The more time you spend with them, the more distinct they're becoming, in personality, in the details of their frames and faceplates.

“What he said,” Skywarp added, serious for a nanoklik before promptly growing bored of the conversation. All three of you watch with trepidation as his expression grows mischievous.

“Hey, kid. You like me best, right?”

Starscream’s wings promptly flare, EM field prickly as the cacti in the Terran desert. This escapes absolutely nobody’s notice, and Skywarp cackles as Thundercracker buries his faceplate in a servo to emit a long-suffering sigh. You shuffle closer to Starscream as Thundercracker wearily goes to haul Skywarp up from where he’d collapsed in howling laughter on the ground.

“You’ll always be my favourite,” You mumble.

The pulse of his EM field reaches you even if he’s drawn it tightly against his plating.

“Yes, well,” He splutters, suddenly caught off guard. “I… I should hope so.”

Feelings are neither of your strong suits, but the silence that falls on you both is companionable and you allow yourself to enjoy Skywarp’s antics, Thundercracker’s exasperated attempts to get him to behave.

“Okay! Okay,” Skywarp wheezes. “I’m done. You should have seen the look on your faceplate, Screamer-”

“Why don’t we get down to business?” Thundercracker interrupts quickly.

“Thank you,” Starscream growls. He sighs dramatically, but his wings remain relaxed, hip cocked. You glance over at Thundercracker and Skywarp. Thundercracker shakes his head fondly, and Skywarp winks at you. There’s a strange sense of unity, a comfort in knowing that you’re all familiar enough with Starscream to know that the irritation is merely an act. Like you've been let in on a precious secret.

Starscream strides leisurely over to his trine, the three of them standing in front of you. It’s a takeoff formation - Starscream in the lead, flanked by Thundercracker and Skywarp. It’s the most common flight formation for trines, but it seems that they’ve purposely left an open space towards the back. A flash of recognition overtakes your processor - you’d studied this one night in the academy, holed up in the library. Trine formations were designed to be flexible, and one of the adaptations allowed the inclusion of a fourth when necessary.

There’s a glint in Starscream’s optics as he addresses you, a hand on his cocked hip.

“Your mission,” He drawls, “Is to keep up.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond

♡♡♡

Benedict joined his sister, Eloise, out in the garden again long after the other had gone to bed. She was smoking on the swing like last time.

As Benedict takes a seat on the opposite swing, she passes him the cigarette. He takes it.

"I found bits of your sketchbook in the fireplace," Eloise says.

"Are you spying on me now?"

"You'd actually have to be interesting for me to bother spying on you," she chuckles.

"The drawings in that sketchbook were abominable," he says firmly. "I could not stand to look at them."

"I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." Eloise looks at them. "I write in my diary, which is not the same as wiring in my novel."

Benedict chuckles.

"It must be very difficult to want something and not be able to get it."

"Eloise..."

"If you enjoy drawing but need practise, then practise," she goes on. "Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed."

You cross his mind. However, he doesn't want you to act impressed. He wants you to be impressed by his work. Genuinely so.

"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky. Some of us cannot.

"Look no further than Lady Whistledown. She possesses a huge talent for writing, and yet she must hide away and publish under a false name."

"Yes, because if anyone knew who Whistledown truly was, she'd be strung up for what she said," Benedict states.

"That is not my point. Whistledown is a woman, therefore she has nothing, and still she writes. You're a man, therefore you have everything. You are able to do whatever you want. So do it. Be bold."

Eloise envies her brothers.

"At least that way I can live vicariously through you." She rises to leave.

"Eloise... are you Lady Whistledown?" Benedict asks.

Eloise laughs.

"You're an accomplished writer, always scribbling in that diary of yours. You certainly know everyone else's business. You have more opinions than anyone else I know in London. You would have my full support and admiration either way, sister."

Elosie laughs again.

"So... is it you?"

"No." She looks at him. "Though if it were... do you honestly think that I'd admit it?"

Elosie heads back inside.

Benedict is left with his thoughts.

♡♡♡

The ballroom was elegantly designed. Soft shades to light up the room. You find yourself without a dance partner, however.

Prince Friedrich was in the middle of a dance with Cressida Cowper.

The duke was standing sternly off to the side with Lady Danbury. They appeared to be talking quietly, though judging by the stern faces, it was not a pleasant conversation.

You find yourself gently, and you admire the room. Benedict wasn't here. You couldn't see him at all.

That is not to say you had gone unnoticed. You glance to your left and find a perfectly suitable gentleman looking your way. You smile softly and turn your gaze away.

Tactics of flirtation were not completely out of your power.

Before anyone could make a move, however, the doors at the top of the stairs opened. It wasn't so much the doors that caught everyones attention, more like who had come through them.

You swear you all breath left you when your eyes landed on Daphne coming down the stairs with her mother. She was wearing the most beautiful silver gown you had ever seen, and her hair was beautifully done. She looked like, well, a princess.

In her hand was a feather fan. It went beautifully with her attire. She began to descend the stairs.

All eyes were on her.

Prince Friedrich was at the bottom of the stairs. Not once did he look away. You watch with interest as Daphne gets closer, closer, and closer to him.

The prince leaves Cressida's side to meet Daphne at the bottom stair.

The duke does not move.

Daphne stops.

"Miss Bridgerton, I simply musylt have your first dance." He speaks to her softly.

"It would be an honour, your highness." She curtsies.

A moment passes between them, and then you watch as Daphne drops her fan. Just like that, the prince kneels down to pick it up.

The prince kneeled.

You don't even realise the soft gasp you let out as you watch.

Prince Friedrich offers her the fan, and she takes it. She smiles at him and then gives the fun to her mother as she takes the prince hand.

They dance.

The duke leaves. Though he turns back to look at Daphne before he goes.

In the words of Lady Whistledown, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?

♡♡♡

The invitation to attend the boxing match came from Anthony Bridgerton. You were rather pleasantly surprised by his invitation.

Anthony apparently needed some help to keep his mother quiet about finding a wife for himself.

You laughed.

You follow the siblings until they reach the prince. He approaches Daphne, but greets you, also. You curtsy.

Anthony then offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You chuckle and take it, allowing him to lead you over to some seats. As you settle, you turn to the eldest Bridgerton.

"Where are you brothers?" You ask.

"My brothers? Currently talking to one of the fighters." He gestures to the edge of the ring where you spot Colin and Benedict.

You don't even notice you're smiling.

"You and my brother seem to have grown rather close." Anthony points out, looking at you.

"I can assure you there is nothing untoward. Your brother is my friend, as are you all now." You smile at him.

Anthony chuckles.

"Benedict seems to have a lot on his mind at the moment. I am not one to get in the way of someone's business."

"Smart woman," Anthony chuckles.

You nudge his arm lightly and wait for the fight to begin.

As the match is announced to begin, the other brothers find their way to you and Anthony. Benedict looks rather surprised to see you. "I had no idea you were attending."

"Your brother invited me to keep your mother off his back. It seems that is all I'm good for." You chuckle.

"No true, but appreciated none the less," Benedict comments.

You smile, and he takes the empty seat beside you. It does not go unnoticed that you keep your arm looped with Anthony's. He doesn't comment on it.

The fight is intense. You gasp with every hard punch. The men around you cheer on their victor.

You had never witnessed such a match before, and you would be lying if you said you were not somewhat into it.

As the crowd stands, you stand with them and cheer along with the Bridgerton brothers. William Mondrich was their friend, and he was putting up hell of a good fight.

Benedict finds it amusing how excited you seem to be.

Mondrich wins!

You cheer along with the brothers. You laugh at the excitement. It was a thrilling match, indeed.

Anthony helps you down from your seat and speaks close to your ear so you can hear him. "We're off to collect our winnings. I shall see to it you get home right after."

You nod and thank him. As he leaves to fetch his earrings, Benedict turns to you.

"Did you enjoy that?"

You chuckle. "I did. Surprisingly."

"I must say, I did not expect to see you in attendance."

"I am full of surprises."

Benedict looks at you quietly for a moment. "Yes. You are."

You smile and look away. However, his gaze lingers on you for a bit.

Later, the Bridgertons see to it that you get home safely before they head off to the club. A place for the gentlemen only.

Anthony helps you up into the carriage and thanks you for humouring him today. Yo return the gesture and wave as the carriage leaves.

Colin has to nudge Benedict out of his thoughts.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

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@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff -

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.

He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.

It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.

With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”

He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”

“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”

He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.

“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”

“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”

“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”

‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”

“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”

Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”

They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”

“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”

He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.

“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”

They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”

He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.

[theturtlelovers]

Hi! May I request, for the sentence prompts, number 5: “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” For a female reader with Donnie who are bf and gf, and the reader is saying it to Don?

₽Φ₭€ ƒΦ₹ A₮₮€₪₮¡Φ₪

Pairing: Donnie/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: The reader is implied to be female in request but can be interpreted otherwise, Donnie licks icing off of pop tarts Warnings: None Wordcount: 666

Notes: Hehe, getting back to knocking those requests down! It'll be a while before I even consider reopening requests, though.

What you were doing wasn't particularly new. It had become a routine to lovingly annoy your boyfriend until he had no choice but to turn his attention to you. Because miraculously, the moment he did, he would see you fluttering your lashes and sending him a sickeningly sweet smile dripping with feigned innocence. If it were his brothers, Donnie would be ready to scold them to the point they'd regret even being in the same proximity as him. Yet, because of that victory grin you would flash when you got him to look at you, he couldn't bring himself to do so.

And it was very interesting because you'd always find new ways to grab his attention.

One time, you texted him that you needed assistance at your apartment. Being the helpful lover he is, he came over ready to lend a hand, only to find that you had lied and just wanted to have dinner with him. Although annoyed as his mind was already recalling his list of tasks, he realized how hungry he was and how much he yearned for your touch. So, he ate the home-cooked food you made and then stayed even longer for movies. 

Another time was when he hadn't emerged from his lab for nearly an entire week. While you absolutely respected the effort and dedication he put into his work, you missed him, and he seriously needed to take care of himself. So you sat next to him and started reading. Out loud. Very monotonously. And it was the Bible! "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," you began, your voice droning on in a blank tone. "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”

Donnie didn’t register it at first, but then he looked at you in absolute confusion.

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light," you continued, not missing a beat.

“What are you doing?” If he had eyebrows, they’d definitely be raised right now. In his confusion, he was trying to fight a smile creeping up.

You looked up from the overly thin pages of the scripture, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “What do you think? I’m reading till you love me again.”

The self-taught scientist rolled his eyes, his annoyed confusion forgotten. “Okay, okay, come here.” Then there was that smile.

This time, you decided to employ the most annoying yet basic tactic to garner his attention: poking him repeatedly. Leo had once again clumsily broken the toaster, and it was out of commission. Donnie wanted to be able to toast his Pop-Tarts before licking the icing off later, so repairing the toaster was an absolute must.

It was hard to do that, though, when you slid in like a worm (he’d still love you as a worm; you’d be beneficial in different ways) and started poking him.

The first few pokes didn’t bother him at first. They were so fleeting and feathery he didn’t really care that you were touching him. They weren’t impeding his work.

But then they got a bit harder. And longer. And it was actually affecting his ability to think since you were choosing to poke random spots.

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

Donnie took a deep breath and slowly turned to you. You blinked at him blankly. God, he was so lucky was madly in love and your cute face and pretty lips- Donnie’s eyes closed for a moment. He took another deep breath and released it with a small shake of his head.

“Well, you certainly have it now.”

You did your little weird giggle as if you were some sort of gremlin. “Hehe! What’d the toaster do to Leo this time?”

While he recalled Leo’s version of the grand battle he had against the appliance, Donnie couldn’t help grinning when he saw the same smile you always have. Victory once again.

Tagging: @mrghostings, @whygz, @supershiny-raven Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!

Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!

[videogamelover99]

Uhh I'm sure this is a hot hot take in this fandom, but I personally don't find the whole moon!Varian theory/idea very interesting in terms of narrative or character.

Varian's always worked best as this scrappy kid who used his intellect to solve problems but whose emotions got in the way of that. He's so desperate to impress Raps and the gang that he neglects his giant boiling water tank and almost blows up the village. His emotions towards Cass are what get him running around helping her until the last minute, making his science presentation a disaster. His need to please his father and later his hurt/distrust towards him is what leads him to recklessly experiment with the rocks behind Quirin's back.

This is also probably why he's drastically more competent as a villain, up until the end. He puts aside his emotions in favor of cold, ruthless tactics, and it's only when his emotions once again get the best of him that he's defeated. Varian's intellect has always been his strength, but his emotional immaturity and volatility is what got him to fail.

So then you give a character like that magic power that has all to do with emotions, it doesn't work. There's no reason to show off his intelligence or persevearance, because the rocks are a physical manifestation of power. And while he goes on this journey of growing up and gaining emotional maturity in season 3, he's never in a struggle with his emotions, if anything, he lets them have control more often than not.

Now compare that to Cass, who a) solves problems physically, so the rocks are a perfect extension of that power and b) fucking sucks at emotions. While Varian acts on his emotions constantly, she stuffs them in a box and relies on her anger instead.

Moon!Cass works because the power set it gives her works for her character. It doesn't work for every character, and especially not Varian.

[syneilesis]

Can I hop on 29 with Sylus? I'm not a huge angst person and prefer fluff but if that doesn't strike your muse I'm ok with that 🥰

Helloooo!!!!! Thank you for your patience! This ficlet is a little silly and fluffy -- more silly than fluffy 😅 but it's all good vibes! I hope that's all right for you 🙏😊

rise and shine You decide to play a prank on Sylus. It doesn’t work.

Walking along the halls of the Onychinus base has become so familiar that you can navigate your way with your eyes closed. All the better: you can't see your front because of the item that you're carrying. When you passed by Luke and Kieran with Mephisto looking on, they offered you assistance but you refused, because this is a mission that you must accomplish alone.

When you left Linkon the sun was still in the sky, hints of red bleeding from the horizon. Once you arrived at the N109 Zone, any sign of skylight disappeared; only the harsh lights of buildings remained.

In front of Sylus's bedroom door, a dim glow emanates. With all the stealth skills you can muster in spite of the bulky cargo on your arms, you sneak inside his chamber.

Just as you've anticipated, Sylus lies on the bed, still asleep. He won't wake up till later, which is why this is the best moment to attack.

With one knee on the bed, you loom over his prone, oblivious form. You take a brief moment to admire his features—a perfectly sculpted man, if you do say so yourself���before you shift the giant Grumpy Crow plushie you're holding and launch a tactical assault.

“Wake up, Sylus!” you announce, drilling on his side using Grumpy Crow's beak. “Your archnemesis is here!”

He doesn't stir—not even a twitch. What a formidable opponent.

So you switch gears and target his underjaw instead. Alternating between drill peck and rubbing the plushie along the expanse of his exposed skin, you continue on your offense, intent on succeeding in your attempt to tickle him awake.

Still he sleeps with nary a movement. No such luck.

“Tch, I see that you're not the Onychinus's boss for nothing.” You circle around the bed, and strike from the other side. Raising Grumpy Crow above your head to prepare for another bout of enthusiastic pecking, you glance down to find Sylus with his eyes open. And those opened, unimpressed eyes are trained on you.

You pause; awkward silence ensues.

And then, cheerfully you tell him, “You're making a very accurate impression of Grumpy Crow right now.”

“Might I have the pleasure of knowing why you're smothering me with a giant plushie?” he says, voice still rough from sleep.

“I am not smothering you!” You bring down the plushie back into your arms again, reassuring the inanimate object with a squeeze. “I am waking you up. And I succeeded.”

Sylus huffs out a laugh. Then he burrows further into the bed—which negates your victory and you are not allowing that.

But then a hand wraps around your wrist and the world spins and you're suddenly enclosed in a tangle of limbs and sheets, Grumpy Crow tumbling onto the floor with a soft plop.

“Sylus—”

“Shh,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. A hand cradles your nape and you're confronted with the crook of his neck. You can feel his pulse jumping from where you're held. “We'll have your awaited duel later. Right now, I'm enjoying my newly won pillow.”

You could have protested—and you know Sylus will indulge you. But entwined and comfortable like this, you let Sylus sleep in a little more. Maybe you can even catch a quick nap yourself.

After all, you still have plenty of opportunities to continue your plan—you still have a giant Smiley Dino to dispatch.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"IT'S JUST YOU AND ME HERE, DOLL"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH BUCKY

I hope you like it! 💚😊☝

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THUNDERBOLTS*

Bucky couldn't forget you.

Ever since he saw you at one of Valentina's galas, his mind hadn't stopped reminiscing about how good you looked in that red cocktail dress, and how your eyes sparkled in the dim yellow light from the ballroom lamps.

All of that was until he realized you were Valentina's secretary, and he was… well, Congressman James Buchanan Barnes, whom no one was betting on.

From what he'd heard, people said he wouldn't last a week in office.

He'd been a congressman for a year now, and so far, no one had tried to kill him, so Bucky took that as a victory.

He'd heard that several of Valentina's thugs were conducting some supposedly confidential investigations at various strategic points in the city that only his team knew about.

His duty as a congressman was to stay abreast of the goings-on among his close associates, so he reviewed in his mind the people who made up Valentina's closest circle.

De Fontaine spoke to many people throughout the day, but in the end, the one he always turned to was you.

So, one way or another, he had to talk to you and try to convince you to join him in his fight to uncover what your boss was up to.

No one could deny that Barnes had plenty of weapons at his fingertips that he could use to make you see reason.

And no, we're not talking about his metal arm.

It was a fact that Bucky hated attending those kinds of events.

He'd rather stay home with a bottle of beer in his hands watching a black and white silent movie than be there in that tuxedo that was also tight in places he wasn't about to mention out loud, surrounded by people whose clothes cost so much money that if they were sold, the proceeds could feed an entire country for a year.

He leaned distractedly against one of the columns, his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

He didn't have to do much, as he found you right away. That night, you were wearing a champagne-colored dress paired with low-heeled black pumps.

You were chatting animatedly with a couple of older women, whom he recognized as one of Valentina's main benefactors.

The women moved away with a friendly wave, and you were left alone, accompanied only by the glass of champagne in your hands.

Barnes leaned a little further against the column, his gaze resting on your back and the way your chocolate-colored hair fell in soft waves behind you.

He couldn't help but smile when your gaze met his, causing you to choke. He moved to a spot a little further away from the rest of the crowd, and you followed at a safe distance.

You had to be very discreet, because if Valentina caught you talking behind her back, you could get into serious trouble, and the last thing Bucky wanted was for you to have any unwanted mishaps because of her, so this was the only way.

When you stood beside him, the soft scent of leather and shaving foam that always accompanied him wafted into your nostrils. He turned to you with a friendly smile on his face.

"Y/N"

"Congressman Barnes," you nodded politely. "I didn't expect to see you today. I thought you'd have more important things to do."

"I can't think of anything better to do than sit here talking to you." He smiled, causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head.

"Don't even try it," you warned. "Other people might lose their minds whenever you say that kind of thing, but it doesn't work with me."

"Then I'll have to find another tactic," he murmured more to himself than to you, his gaze gently running down your dress before looking into yours again. "That dress is new." It wasn't a question; somehow he knew it was.

"It is," you stated, raising an eyebrow. "Have you been watching me?" "I'm not the only one, doll. More than one person has stopped to give you a good once-over."

"Including yourself, I imagine," you blurted out casually, making him smile again.

"We're supposed to be political enemies. They can't catch me looking at you like that," he murmured, "although I'd be lying if I said I hadn't."

"How?" you whispered, dreading the answer.

Bucky's blue eyes slowly darkened before he answered you.

"Like he wants to take your dress off with his teeth," he almost growled, making you gasp softly.

"And you want to?" "You pointed out, feeling your cheeks redden.

"With every fiber of my being," he assured you, "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the first time I saw you in that red dress."

He murmured, walking toward you. You took several steps back.

"Bucky… we can't… not here…" You stammered as he continued to approach. "Am I not 'Congressman Barnes' anymore?" He laughed. "Am I 'Bucky' now?"

"You've always been Bucky, I just called you Congressman to keep up appearances."

"You don't have to do that with me, doll," he smiled. "It's just you and me here."

He gently took your hand and led you to an empty room.

He let you go in first and closed the door behind you before approaching again, pressing you against it.

You didn't need to say anything; the look you gave him next was enough of an answer for him.

He placed his lips on yours with need, as if he'd wanted this to happen for a long time.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you by your hips and leaned you against the wall.

“We… can’t… take… a long time… to get back,” he panted between kisses, “so… it has to… be… quick.”

“Whatever you want, Bucky, but please…” you moaned as he quickly began to unbutton his pants.

“Doll, you’re going to drive me crazy,” he growled, dropping his underwear, which tumbled haphazardly down his legs along with his pants. “This is what you want, right?”

“Yes, Bucky… please,” you panted, bucking your hips toward him.

As much as he wanted it to happen, he was forced to pull away, earning a curse from you.

“First, tell me what Valentina’s planning,” he ordered, his gaze boring into yours.

“That’s blackmail, Barnes,” you complained, your breath hitching.

“You know whatever she’s doing isn’t right,” he explained, “and I can help you stop her,” he whispered. “You just have to tell me what it is.”

“If I tell you, will you fuck me?”

"If you tell me, I'll do more than just fuck you," he growled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I'll personally take care of presenting your resignation to Valentina." He winked at you. "You'll work for me, so you'll never have to live in fear again," he whispered, holding your face in his hands. "I'll protect you."

"That's more than Valentina has done for me in the three years I've been her secretary." You took a deep breath. "Okay, here's what I know."

You told him everything: about the labs, the human experiments, how most of the subjects had died but they believed there was one who had. EVERYTHING.

When you finished your explanation, he kept his end of the deal.

When you returned to the gala, no one had noticed your absence, and if it weren't for the subtle trace of your lipstick on Bucky's cheek, anyone would say that Bucky and you were still bitter enemies.

[inmyheaddd]

hey!! Can you do a Grayson Hawthorne x reader, where the reader’s ex won’t stop bothering her or Eve won’t stop bothering Grayson? Thanks!

i once believed love would be black and white - grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: hii thank u sm for the request!! 💗 i did the readers ex because i simply cannot and will not have ev* in any of my fics warnings: mild language, ex calls you a ‘bitch’ wc: 1.3k masterlist

you practically skipped to the door after you heard it ring, with a smile on your face as you thought about unboxing the new clothes you had ordered, and giving your routine haul to grayson. 

that same smile faded the second you opened the door. instead of seeing your package, your ex was at the door, with that stupid smug grin on his face.  

your breath caught in your throat. for a second you felt frozen, but you regained your senses quick, slamming the door on his face. 

unfortunately, he was faster, pulling the door back and blocking you from closing it with his foot. “you’re not happy to see me?” he said with a fake pout, tilting his head to the side. 

you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, not that you had to try very hard for it to appear anyway. “go to hell.” 

he smirked at you, “already have, honey.” he stood a step closer to you, “i know you want me back, don’t be like that.” 

“you should leave, now.” you deadpanned. his tactics were not going to work on you anymore. 

“what, are you forgetting all the good times we had?” he smiled at you, narrowing his eyes, “you need a reminder?” 

you felt like throwing up, he was delusional if he thought you had any good times together. for a split second, his confident demeanor and cocky grin wavered as he looked past you.

then he puffed up his chest, standing taller and pushing his chin out as if he would look more threatening— you almost burst out laughing at the sight.

the reason for his switch became more apparent as you heard a silky, low and controlled voice come from behind you. 

“do we have a problem here?” you turned, to see grayson standing beside you, adjusting his sleeve cuffs before smoothly placing a hand on your lower back. 

the cold, deadly look he gave your ex, and the way his icy eyes looked like they shot to kill,  was something you had never seen coming from him before. 

“and who the fuck is this guy?” he sputtered out, trying to come off as unbothered as he nodded towards grayson.

“somebody who doesn’t make requests twice.” grayson didn’t put any emphasis on any particular words, but they still cut through like a knife. he didn’t make threats, he didn’t have to. 

“now,” he continued. “i believe she asked you to leave.” 

“this isn’t any of your business, pal. this is between me and her.” he chuckled once again, trying to act condescending. “you don’t even know half the history we have.”

grayson used his silence like a weapon, eyeing the shorter man infront of you up and down, before speaking again. 

“i know enough.” 

you had told grayson about your past relationships and confided in him like you had with no one else. 

clearly, your ex didn’t expect you to have, based on the girl you once were when you were with him, but he didn’t know the person you had become now. 

your ex let out a harsh chuckle, his eyes flicking back to yours with that same sneer he used to use so very often at you. “fucking bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

the scoff escaped your lips before you could even think, “excuse me?” you gave him an look of disgust, mixed in sheer shock.

grayson’s hand left your back in an instant, taking a single controlled step towards your ex and you watched as he stepped back almost instantly. 

your gut clenched at the words your ex said, that kind of hurt never fully faded, no matter what. but a sense of relief washed over you as grayson moved towards him — focusing on the love you felt for him, rather than the residual hurt from your ex.

grayson didn’t need to puff up his chest to practically tower over him, jut his chin out to be taken more seriously, or resort to theatrics to prove anything. he just was. 

your ex didn’t say anything as tried to look menacing, but the fear he exuded was palpable in the air.  

“if i see you on my property again, if i ever see you again, i can assure you i wont be as civil as i am being now.” 

your eyes flickered between the two of them as you swallowed, directing a glare full of hatred at your ex. “you need to leave.”

he stayed staring at grayson, who arched an infamous blonde brow up at him and tilted his head. “you heard her.” 

your ex scoffed and shook his head, muttering random words like, “just wait ‘till she comes running back,” as he walked off, and out of your sight.

grayson didn’t spend a second looking at him longer, his attention was immediately all focused on you. 

“are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked you as he closed the door behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

you took a deep breath and shook your head, “yeah,” you sighed, “it’s whatever, i’m fine.”

grayson stayed silent, now giving you one of his questioning brow arches. 

you laughed out loud, “alright, yeah, i fucking hate him.” 

grayson smiled at your answer, more so smiling at the fact that you were laughing — able to make light out of the situation. 

“i know. i’m sorry i didn’t do more — i should’ve. i know that with every bone in my body. i should’ve done something.”

“what?” you said, genuinely befuddled that grayson was apologizing. “grayson, you did way more than enough. it’s not your fault he doesn’t know how to take a hint.”

he didn’t say anything as his hand moved down from your shoulder, interlinking his fingers with yours and running circles on the back of your hand. “besides,” you continued, “it was more my parents decision to be with him than it ever was mine.”

grayson’s head tilted to the side slightly, brows slightly knitted before he spoke, “you know, its on the rare occasions like these, where i start to believe, perhaps violence is the answer.” 

your jaw dropped playfully as you let out a laugh, “grayson!” you exclaimed, the empty, hollow feeling in your gut long gone as grayson made you laugh. 

he somehow always knew how to make you feel better, even in the worst situations.

he smiled at the sound of your laughter, and at the sight of your smile. “it’s simply the truth, my love.” 

your laughter faded, a faint smile still on your lips as you hummed before speaking. “can i tell you a little truth of my own then?”

“i’m listening.”

“protectiveness is a really good look on you.” you said, before he wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

his voice was quiter and lower now, “is that so?” he murmured. 

you nodded, feeling a little breathless with your cheeks slightly flushed even when you’ve been with him for ages. “yeah, it is.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, then.” he said as he leaned in towards you and pressed his lips to yours. 

one of his hands moved to lightly hold your jaw, and the other stayed on the small of your back. 

your arms moved to wrap around his neck and you pulled back with a small smile, resting your forehead on his.

“thankyou, grayson. for everything.” you said into the space between you both, your voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes found yours, softening around the edges before talking. “you don’t need to thank me. you shouldn’t thank me.”

you laughed softly before you pressed another kiss to his lips, “i knew you’d say something like that.” 

grayson let out a breath of a laugh, his hand that was on your jaw now moving to your waist as well. “then why’d you bother?”

“because you need to hear it. even if you won’t admit it.”

he shook his head slightly, but there was a gleam in his eyes before he kissed you again, this time slower, as if trying to prove he didn’t need words to respond.

in that moment, you felt like you and grayson were the only two people in the world. 

“just wait ‘till she comes running back,” your ex said earlier.

no fucking chance.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @sweetlikeanangel

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee

[pineconepie]

bratty reader and the dads? I can already imagine Vincent feeding into it as a joke and then being annoyed when it bites him in the ass lol

I got a few similar asks to this one haha. Oh, and you're 100% correct about Vincent LOL

.

Octavian would find it amusing and cute, but not enough to indulge your behaviors, at least not most of the time. You should expect the "calm dad voice" laced with poison, like "I'm sorry?" "Are you sure you wanted to say that?" etc. etc.

He'd give you many chances before he either tells you to go to your room or sit in the corner to think about what you've done.

Worst case scenario, he'll make you write a formal letter of apology.

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Vincent thinks its cute and will humor it at first, even egging you on by teasing you, but it does wear thin after a certain point and he'll give you a warning.

If you still continue acting out, he'll drag you to your room and make you stay there for an hour or so to think about what you did.

Worst case scenario he'll wash your mouth out with soap and ask for an apology after. Then he'd be cooing and babying you once again, especially if you're crying.

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Indigo is confused. Merfolk don't typically have such attitudes, but even more strange to him, he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Do you hate Papa now?? What did I do wrong??" "Don't look at me like that, please... you're breaking my heart, little one, just tell me what I did wrong..."

He'd start crying if it continues, but he'd try to appease you by bringing you extra gifts and cuddles, even if you push him away. He hates the idea of punishing you, so at most he'll just drag you to the nest for snuggles, thinking its the only way to make you calm down. Personal space is not his strong suit.

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Magnus won't tolerate any sort of disobedience from his hatchling. You will behave, that is simply the law. He will scold you in a very stern voice, and if that doesn't work, worse case scenario is he'll pick you up by the hem of your shirt and place you somewhere scary, like a high branch or close to a wolves den.

He'd be watching to make sure you don't actually get hurt, but he hopes the fear will make you realize you need him because he is your father.

What do you mean this is a bad parenting tactic?? All dragonkind used it on their little ones!

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Seradiel adores a bratty reader <3 he wants you to act up, because he wants you to act like the baby he remembers and throw tantrums. That means you've fully embraced him as your parent, right??

And obviously throwing a tantrum means you need his guidance.

He would do a good job hiding the adoration he feels from you acting bratty, and he'll scold you accordingly, putting you in time out or taking away your electronics so you have to spend more time with Papa.

[liilacpeach]

Vice Dorm Leaders Relationship Headcanons

✧...

It's fluff time (again)

GN reader

Jade

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Entertainment is one of Jade's biggest goals, above even the money he usually uses his efforts for, so from the moment he realized that you would be able to bring that to him, it becomes noticeable to you from time to time two pairs of heterochromatic eyes standing out in the shadows. Definitely as far away from a romantic beginning as possible, it also lacks romance in the way your conversations revolve around him trying to get a reaction from you. This starts to change when his hobby becomes the subject of one of your "debates", unlike his usual calmer temperament, he ends up becoming a little more expressive when it comes to his tastes, however questionable they may be, so when you pay attention to what he says, not giving the disgusted reaction he wanted, his interest goes from what you could bring to him, to you as a person. You become company instead of a way for him to pass his time, even if that doesn't mean he'll stop teasing you, but you can see a warmth in his eyes as he does it, different from before.

He finds himself wanting to know more about you, not just to facilitate future negotiations or fun, instead of just discovering your weaknesses he also wonders about your tastes, thoughts, how you feel. He doesn't care what people think of him, that's a fact, but sometimes he has doubts about how you see him, even though he knows that he may be asking himself that because he likes you, to protect his own emotions, he prefers to occupy himself with making you admit what you really think of him, whether his feelings would be reciprocated, instead of thinking about his own feelings for you, even if he likes you, he already has the habit of trying to be one step ahead of everyone in terms of knowledge. It's hard to say if he confessed to you or if he made you confess without even realizing what happened. Also because of his focus on controlling information, for a long time you will only be able to see what he wants to show, when he opens up more it wouldn't be anything so direct either, but he would leave some clues here and there about how he feels.

Although questionable, one of the ways that Jade lets you see how much he cares is by studying you, your different reactions and what causes them, it was his goals to learn these from the beginning, but now with a more romantic touch. He can't hide a seemingly evil smile from onlookers point of view when he realizes how much his range of options has increased. This study usually results in him learning your preferences to know what tactics he could use to make his gestures more meaningful to you. He tests each theory, then suddenly your hand and forehead are kissed by him one day, in the next one, you receive an invitation to a meal at Mostro Lounge, once again he does you a favor. He tries to pretend it's just out of curiosity, but for anyone who knows him, also knows that these actions have a meaning beyond that.

Because he doesn't care about other people's opinions, it's very difficult to see Jade show any embarrassed reaction, no matter how small, it's not entirely impossible, despite it being subtle. For him who takes pride in knowing your next moves before you can do anything, if you manage to surprise him, his normally colder heart warms up a little. Taking initiative and being the person who initiates any physical touch also works, although rarely, but generally the most efficient method is the one that involves his hobby. From you offering to accompany him on mountain hiking, to you mentioning to him a species of mushrooms that you believe he has never seen before, or remembering what he said about this subject when others normally don't pay attention. It's possible, even if it's hard to see, that he would show his happiness with a genuine smile instead of a scary one, telling you what he really likes about you, not just to try to make you embarrassed as a result or squeezing your hand a little tighter if he was holding it.

Ruggie

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Maybe he would have already tried to give you a birthday present to get something in return or offered help so he could negotiate with you in the future, but if you want to offer help without any conditions, he will deny it. For you to provide support, it would have to be more discreet, asking for super simple favours in return that don't involve money, pretending that these are important to you, or helping him from behind the scenes. He is very intelligent, so he would eventually realize your true intentions at one time or another, but even after he finds out, he is confused about why he doesn't want you to stop, even though he is worried that one day he will have to return the favors if you charge him for it, he really doesn't want it to stop, both for the help and also because he knows how much he enjoys talking to you.

He would try to do more things for you as you got closer and his feelings became more romantic in nature, but that doesn't mean it would happen in a direct way, at least at first. Because of how he hides his emotions to protect himself, as he deals with several different students, but also because of his inferiority complex about being a hyena beastmen, he doesn't know if he would "offend" you if he showed any interest, even if he would never admit it was for that reason. He ends up using the same tactics as you at the beginning, subtly helping you, trying to keep you from noticing or asking for ridiculously simple favors in return. It takes time for him to confess his feelings for you, but it happens at one time or another, even if he maintains his mischievous attitude, it is visible how he becomes more shy around you, noticeable even to his laziest senior, who gives the last necessary push, so indirectly that not even Ruggie realized it. From the moment you two are together, he tells you everything with ease, since you are now part of his group of people that are important to him, trusting you completely.

In addition to supporting you in whatever you need, another way Ruggie shows affection is through physical touch. All of his actions are practically calculated so as not to owe anyone a favor, in a scenario like this it's hard to believe that he is used to showing vulnerability, except to a smaller group of people, so as he starts to trust you more, he also shows that he wants a greater physical proximity to you, even letting you touch one of his insecurities, his ears, as it is proof of his hyena-like physical features, it shows how much he considers you. After a while you wouldn't even need to take initiative anymore, since it would be obvious when he wants that special attention, because he surrounds you and stares at you all day, even if he tries to avoid being noticed, normally he can't hide it.

Ruggie takes a long time to trust someone, so when he finally ends up allowing someone he doesn't consider family to join this group of his special people, after being very selective, he is completely lost. Used to not letting real emotions show, it's difficult to notice when he's embarrassed about something, but it happens more often than you might think, especially when you help him or during the most innocent physical touch. Even if your cooking skills can't reach even Lilia's (as difficult as that is to happen) he would eat with a huge smile, he would try to hide it for the rest of the day, but some happy laughs escape when he remembers the meal you prepared for him, especially if they were donuts. Even the privilege of touching his ears, he pretends to be a reward for you, but his red face and smile say otherwise.

Jamil

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It's meaningful to him that he met you organically and without any influence from Kalim, even if it was a strong bump as he walked quickly, worried as always. For Jamil, that all daily activities, from hobbies to even acquaintances, happened because of the space that Kalim takes in his life, meeting you spontaneously one day, despite it being uncomfortable for someone who plans and loves to have control in any situation , it was also somewhat satisfying for him, yet his presentation was short and calculated, as he immediately had to go back to what he was doing before talking to you. He continues to wear the mask while interacting with you, but he can't deny that he has fun, as he finally has a place where he doesn't have to remember who he is and the responsibilities that come with it.

For a long time he keeps his feelings to himself, even though he knows he feels something more for you because of how much he daydreams thinking about what he would do if he could say what he really thinks. He ends up confessing after you mention that he received an invitation to go to a party from Kalim. Just like the rest of emotions, he keeps to himself as much as he can until it all comes out at once, this wasn't much different, it was in the botanical garden that the words started to come out due to the shock of perhaps losing your company out of pure fear of doing something, not an ounce of regret after it happens, since even with his efforts to do otherwise, you saw who he really is and the title he was forced to carry, to his surprise, you accepted him, even before he achieved the freedom he so desires. You would have to be perceptive and try to think beyond what he says, since he tries to disguise even the things he likes, with the trust he acquires for you and the time you spend together, it naturally becomes easier to see what he really thinks about everything.

He knows what it's like to not have the time and freedom to do everything he likes because of the obligations he has, so he subconsciously tries to lighten your responsibilities, but not because he thinks you're incapable or irresponsible, he does it because he wants to ease the weight on your shoulders, he understands what it's like to not have time for yourself, so he doesn't want you to go through the same situation. Besides trying to fit you into his busy schedule, another way to see how much he cares is by paying attention to how he plans everything just to have a moment alone with you, instead of saving that time to spend alone as he would prefer before, now when he thinks about a relaxing time, you are automatically included in what he would consider calming, so he ends up calling you. He also tries to demonstrate his skills more while you are around, rather than holding back.

Jamil feels embarrassed easily, even if he tries not to show it, but prominent among the options of what to do to please him is reinforcing his independence. Throughout his life he has had to repress his own desires, so when you make it clear that you value his thoughts and emotions and want to listen to them before any decision involving him, even if he didn't take the initiative to tell you if you asked him, it would be an important moment for him, regardless of how many times it happened. Another way to make him more shy is to praise his skills honestly, he is already used to having to give fake praise, so he easily recognizes when someone is being genuine, in seconds you would no longer be able to see his face, which would be being covered with his hood.

Trey

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Because of his role, he ends up meeting a lot of new people frequently, including you, but you stand out because you offer help instead of just asking for it, despite the students habit of questioning whether each action has ulterior motives, no one is made of steel, and even though he tries to diminish it to outsiders, the weight of his responsibilities is huge, so along with his down-to-earth personality, his tiredness also influences his temptation to accept the extra help. He gets used to your presence, to the point that if you're absent, even if it's just a few minutes late, it's enough for him to feel more worried. As the days go by, your name is practically replaced by the title of cook's assistant in the conversations of other students, who begin to wonder if the relationship between the two of you is not so platonic, due to the way he looks at you and the amount of time you two spend together.

For Trey, who avoids conflicts and negative emotions to the point of reaching catastrophic results, this habit is also perpetuated in positive emotions. Because he is reserved and patient, he justifies his actions to himself by stating that just spending time with you is already enough for him, that he has a long way to go before he decides to care about these things. He insists on holding back even when it is visible in his eyes that he is capable of having ambition, wanting something more, or the hint of jealousy that he feels every time your attention shifts from him to your friends while you two are together, since secretly he puts a lot of effort into having that free space in his schedule to see you. Regardless of whether his emotions started slowly overflowing, or if you had to take control of the situation, already in the relationship it is easy to see his effort to express himself more, even if the negative side still appears less than the others in your conversations as you get to know each other better.

As expected, one of the ways Trey shows affection is like a grandmother, feeding those he loves, but beyond that he tries to be romantic in other more conventional ways, even if it ends up being super awkward, because he gets totally lost. Despite his dedication, it's hilarious how his attitudes are more romantic when he's not trying, from making you breakfast, offering to help carry whatever you're holding, opening doors for you, giving your hands a massage at the end of classes while holding them, even planning the dates he could have with you every time he visits a new place that he imagines to your liking. Practically the opposite of when he tries to do something, mainly because the results involve him getting stuck, not getting a decent compliment out of his mouth, almost falling over himself, and the list goes on from bad to worse. Because of his failed attempts, he tries to show how much he cares when he shows you anything other than the image of a normal person that he normally tries to maintain, from pranks, to showing how tired his responsibilities make him.

Trey doesn't show his emotions so easily, even when he's embarrassed in a lot of different situations, by spending more time with him you realize the meaning behind his hand on the back of his head or the way he smiles differently than usual. He underestimates himself and hides the areas in which he stands out to be an ordinary student, so much so that he left it to be misunderstood by others that his magic could only change the flavor of things, despite what he could actually do. Trey is another one who becomes more shy when others see through his intentions and praise the skills he has, drawing attention to what he would like to hide for convenience or because he finds it shameful. But what could be more meaningful for him would be receiving any care from you, since a large part of his responsibilities involve taking care of others, so that he has an easier school life, even when he starts giving you this special attention, but now for other purposes, helping you because he really cares about your well-being, it is still surprising for him to receive any small percentage of those efforts back, your efforts to help him could have been happening from the beginning, but it is much more meaningful to him now that he's sure it's genuine.

Lilia

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Being as friendly and spontaneous as he is, it doesn't take long for you to end up talking, even if it's more one-sided pranks than you talking to each other at first. Because he has to protect someone as his duty and objective, he pays attention to every detail, and by chance you became one of his favorites, he stops to pay attention more, trying to interact with you daily because it's fun for him. At first it's more superficial, because despite being outgoing, he keeps his feelings private to himself, but the closer you get, the more he lets you see not only the teasing and jokes, but also the thinking behind them. Even though he's old, he's been busy taking care of practically three children, so it takes a while to realize his own emotions, when you realize the pranks went from him just appearing out of nowhere for a rose to appear in your hand, or how the scares he tries to give to you went from two magenta eyes suddenly appearing in front of you, to your favorite food appearing in your hand (since this is fluff and not angst, he bought it rather than preparing it, so your survival is guaranteed). He doesn't even realize that he is increasingly using what he has learned about you to take better care of you, nor does he see how this is different from how he treats others.

He thinks and feels much more than he lets on, even if he is attracted to you romantically, he may try to hide it, whether due to the responsibilities he carries, such as raising his children, but also his concern about not letting his position harm you. His focus goes from avoiding possible problems and heartbreaks to enjoying the time he has with you as much as he can, it's not the first time he's had to feel the concept of one living less time than the other, but it takes longer for him to change his mind about not getting so close to you, not only because of past experiences, but also because of the impression that with you he has the option of not showing the depth of his emotions, unlike while raising a child. He is completely capable of never saying how he really feels about you beyond pranks to protect you, so he would need you to take initiative to change that. Any negative emotions and experiences are kept secret from you by Lilia for a long time even though you are already in a relationship, as he feels pressured to make the time you two have together as perfect as possible, because it is shorter and he values it a lot, but it's nothing that your dedication to know more about him can't overcome, because even if he tries to avoid it, his weakness is to give in to your wishes, because deep down he would like to show more of himself to you, but also because he cares about what you want.

With his special combination of archaic and present knowledge, any attempt at romance coming from him ends up being this mix of an elderly couple's marriage and a common teenage couple. You receive flowers and letters, but you are also invited to play video games with him or spontaneously go out at night with him, to visit different places that are impossible to believe they exist since they are so beautiful, the places of which you two visit the most are the ones that have a great view of the sky, especially to see the moon at night. Even pranks have gained even more adorable factors, now being not just the surprise itself but also the kisses on the cheek that come with it.

Having lived such a long life, it is harder to bring up new things or tricks to make him more shy, but it is still possible through a little study. Researching the way people in his homeland express affection and putting some of it into practice with him, seeing the way he acts and trying to copy some of his pranks to scare him, even if they don't work, and trying to find out what he likes by asking others, brings the element of surprise necessary for you to see another side of him. Also when you try to cook something healthy, or offer to help him cook so you can spend more time with him, it makes him smile more every second that passes by on the clock, his face a little pinker thinking about the memories he has created with you.

Rook

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Why he started talking to you is unknown, not only to the other students, but also to yourself. Was it beauty? Personality? Any specific talents? It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what created the first drops of curiosity that would later become a great interest in you, even he didn't really understand why, but it was probably the combination of all your traits that was responsible for leaving him intrigued. Even if he is curious, he keeps his distance for a while with only an idealized version of you in his mind, due to his tendency to admire people from afar, but as he gets to know you better instead of being disappointed, he is surprised at how much he finds reality even better than he imagined.

Even though he talks a lot, Rook doesn't reveal much about himself, even to those close to him. Admiration for you is easy for him to admit, but opening up and explaining how his emotions from idolizing you ended up moving towards a more romantic side as the two of you started interacting more, is much harder to come by. In theory, he would do well with romance because of the poetic way he sees love, but revealing other sides of himself is crucial in a relationship and he is very hesitant about it. As much as he usually doesn't hold back words, whether good or bad, those that reveal something more don't come out so easily, they just reverberate in his thoughts while his eyes follow you more and more. Even after reaching the point where his feelings are practically completely visible, it still takes a lot of patience and persistence to hear anything more personal than beautiful words, over time they become more expository of what is behind them, even if they keep being really poetic.

Him telling you his feelings is already a great romantic gesture in itself, due to his desire to keep almost everything private, but for Rook who is so devoted to those he admires, other ways of expressing the affection he has for you end being even more dramatic than expected. From taking you out on a boat at night under an ocean of stars, offering to do a painting with you as a model, telling you everything he liked about you almost daily, even what you didn't like about yourself. Of all the ways he could be romantic, the way he uses the most is words, so even if you were already doing something special, like an outdoor picnic, he would still say words that were more beautiful than the flowers around you both.

When Rook finds it necessary or gets emotional, just like when he saw Neige, he ends up revealing more about himself, so seeing a slight blush on his cheeks is difficult because of how alert he is, but not impossible. To achieve this feat there are two ways available, one is to distract him using the help of someone he admires to surprise him if you wanted to prepare something bigger, or another efficient method is to simply act in a way he is not used to seeing. Since he tries to memorize your mannerisms, when he sees an unexpected side of you, completely out of what would be expected out of your personality, it would get a reaction out of him, even though he normally doesn't sound like that, he is honest, even though he tries to control how much this affected him, he won't try so hard to hide from you.