#i need to practice different genres anyway
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steelycunt · 7 months ago
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bites thumb..im quite enjoying beautiful world where are you so far in a fun and silly way..
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jakesimfromstatefarm · 1 month ago
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the art & science of parenting 101 ─ p. js
↳ summary ── the art & science of parenting 101 (PSY1009): in this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child'. late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal.   what you didn't expect to be part of the deal? getting paired with jay park—the last person you'd trust to raise, well, anything. you’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  warning: sleep deprivation is guaranteed. and maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. good luck! 
↳ pairing ── jay park x y/n [ft. enha members!]
↳ genre ── e2l!au, college!au, (fake)parenting!au, he-fell-first, she-fell-harder type beat lolz || fluff, crack
↳ ✎ᝰ. 20.5k [ONCE AGAIN -- this was not intentional..if you know me i just have too much fun writing sometimes & get too attached to the characters...]
↳ contains ── mentions of parenting & parental neglect (sorta, only a smidge of like five words), crack! bc if you know me i self indulge in crack whoops, jay & y/n being opposites & school rivals, jay's annoying smirk like a million times, reader & jay are psych majors, jay's also a photographer, cheesy ass kisses, jay & reader are awkward! so awkward! there’s SO much tension . but in a cute awkward crush way
↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── omg it’s finally done. tell me why it took me so long to finish, i promise i didn’t mean to but life’s been busier lately :’) aNyways! ugh i luv writing e2l!jay for some reason,,,he fits the trope so well in my eyes heh but i hope you all like him & the characters as much as i enjoyed writing them !!! as busy as i am i love indulging in my crack x enha writes :P hope u enjoy & tell me what you think <333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
Welcome to PSY1009, The Art & Science of Parenting 101! Throughout the next 12 weeks, we’re going to dive deep into the wondrous world of parenting—dirty diapers and all. To kick off our course, we’re starting with our campus-famous project: raising your very own robot baby for the first half of the semester (with the help of your assigned partner, of course). Before our first class, we ask that you complete this pre-project questionnaire on your current views and opinions about parenting. No pressure—there are no right or wrong answers (maybe only judgements from your future robot offspring)!
Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What theories and methods do you believe are important to parenting? 
Y/N's Submission [8:25AM, September 18th]:
"I strongly believe that effective parenting revolves around a strict routine, which can be reinforced through the principles of operant conditioning, as developed by B.F. Skinner. Proper feeding schedules, consistent nap times, and regular development check-ins are essential—I think a structured timetable would ensure a baby's needs are met efficiently and consistently. With a set schedule and a focus on developmental milestones, I believe we can maximize a child's growth potential, even if it's just a robot baby.”
Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain out of this co-parenting experience?  
Y/N's Submission [8:29AM, September 18th]:  
"I expect to confirm that a well-organized system is the key to successful parenting. I want to test my hypothesis that if you follow a set structure, yes, even with a robot baby, things will run smoothly. I am hoping that this experience runs smoothly with no unnecessary surprises.” 
✭・.・✫
Satisfied with your answers, you click 'submit' and close your laptop, feeling a wave of satisfaction as you settle into your seat—center of the second row—as you wait for the 9AM lecture to start.  
It's 8:30AM.  
You're the only one in the room.  
Yeah, you're a little early. So what? One can never be too prepared. You've waited for this course forever, and you're determined to not only ace it (like you do with every class) but to dominate. So yes, coming early is characteristic of you, as you want to ensure you get the best seat in the classroom: center of the second row—center to get the best view of the professor's podium, and second row to be close enough to show you're engaged, but not close enough that it screams, Look at me, I'm a tryhard!  
It's clear you've come prepared. Plus, this class isn't just any ordinary elective—it's the elective to take. Only the top students majoring in psychology get in, available only through direct invite by the professor. If you were invited to PSY1009, it meant you were the crème de la crème of psychology students. The best of the best. The elite. The— 
Your train of thought is derailed when an all-too-familiar figure strolls into the room with that signature smirk. Backpack slung lazily over one (1) shoulder (as if two straps are too much effort), hair clearly still bedhead status, wearing whatever clothes he fished off The Chair (you know, the one—where all questionable, semi-clean laundry lives). 
He strolls past you—of course—and plops down right in front of you.
Front row.  
Try-hard. 
"Y/N, fancy seeing you here," Jay Park spins around, a knowing look plastered on his face, eyes gleaming. "I missed seeing that frown of yours all summer." 
"What are you doing here, Jay?" You roll your eyes and scoff at his comment. "Don't tell me you got into this class. It's for serious students."  
Jay's grin only widens to your despair. "Contrary to your deeply misinformed opinion, Professor Kim actually loves me. I'm a great student."  
“I don’t believe it,” you deadpan back. “You never turn your assignments in on time, and quite frankly, I'm surprised you were even able to find this classroom."  
Jay shrugs, unfazed. "What can I say? Professor Kim doesn't just look at deadlines, she looks at talent. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?"  
You mumble something under your breath about ‘talent for procrastination’ but before he can fire back, Professor Kim walks into the room, cuing the silence of all the students who've filled up the class.  
"Good morning, class! I'm so happy to see so many familiar faces."  
Jay turns his head back towards the front of the room, as you instantly straighten up, flashing your favorite professor a smile. This is officially the fifth course you've taken with Professor Kim. It's no secret you’re one of her biggest fans—the countless early mornings you've spent waiting at your computer, finger hovering over the ‘enroll’ button the second registration opens so you can be one of the first students to sign up for her classes have proven that. Challenging but rewarding, her classes are always worth the effort.
And yet, for reasons beyond your comprehension, Jay Park—Jay Freaking Park—somehow always ends up in the same classes. Every. Single. Time. It’s like a curse.  
A loud, messy, procrastinating curse…
…that just so happens to have a side profile almost as annoyingly good that it only pisses you off more. 
You wonder if he’s actually here to learn or if he’s just here to spite you. Because, honestly, the amount of classes you’ve shared with him is no longer a coincidence. Five semesters in a row? Suspicious. 
But realistically, and unfortunately, Jay does study the same major as you, which means those last five semesters? Oh, those were five long semesters of endless debates on discussion boards, in-class duels over psychological theories, and the infamous showdown for the TA position in Professor Kim's Intro to Psychology course. And the worst part? Neither of you got the job because Professor Kim—in a diplomatic twist that made zero sense to you—deemed you both 'equally qualified.' So, the job went to the third best candidate instead. Tough luck.  
You open up your laptop again, opening a perfectly organized Google Doc, ready to take notes on whatever pearls of wisdom Professor Kim is currently bestowing about your upcoming project—which, in hindsight, you should really be paying attention to. You should be. But something so ridiculous, so blood-boiling, pulls your attention elsewhere.  
Jay's desk is completely...empty. 
No laptop. No notebook. Not even a measly little pencil. Did he bring an empty backpack? Or did he just walk in here like he's casually waiting for someone to present him his grade on a silver platter? He's just sitting there like this is a casual hangout—probably expecting his robot baby to parent itself while he simply supervises.  
Before your self-induced inner monologue spirals into complete rage, you suddenly hear your professor's voice cut through the class, breaking you out of your mental rant.  
"Y/N and Jay." 
Wait. What?
Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.
You blink. You must have misheard.
"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  
The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow (and unfortunately) still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  
And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 
"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  
You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  
But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  
"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you, puppy dog eyes on display. "You don't want to play house with me?"  
You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. 
"I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 
Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 
"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction.
You bring your voice down to a whisper, leaning towards him. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 
"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life.
And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he has the audacity to breathe in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.
Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  
Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  
While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  
Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two. And you?  
You're screwed.
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Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What are your current theories and methods that you believe are important to parenting? 
Jay’s Submission [10:09AM, September 18th]: 
"I think babies need more freedom to explore and make their own choices, even if that just means grabbing random things. Bowlby's attachment theory leans towards a secure attachment, but I don't think that means hovering over them 24/7. It's about being there when they really need you, not scheduling every second of the day. I also believe letting babies learn through their own experiences is key. Strict behaviorism, such as Skinner's, sounds exhausting and I don't think a rigid system is what makes a good parent. Babies are messy, and that's okay." 
Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain from this experience? 
Jay's Submission [10:12AM, September 18th]:  
"I'm hoping to learn how to be a responsive, yet flexible parent without overcomplicating it. The goal is to find balance between being hands-on without hovering. And, I think this whole robot baby thing will teach me how to handle unpredictable situations—because no matter how much you plan, life is going to surprise you. And also, being able to say I know how to change a diaper under 30 seconds sounds pretty cool :)" 
✭・.・✫
Jay's screwed.  
Like, completely, utterly, hopelessly screwed. 
He was already kinda skeptical he’d make it past his 40s if he kept living the way he does, but now? Now, he’s not even sure he’ll survive the next 24 hours. Why? Well, today’s the first official meeting with you—as co-parents—at the campus coffee shop at 12PM sharp. 
It's 12:17PM.  
He's late.  
Seventeen whole minutes late. To your meeting. And you're basically the human embodiment of an atomic clock. You’re probably sitting there, checking your watch every few seconds, calculating his absence down to the millisecond. Jay can practically feel the murderous vibes you’re radiating from halfway across campus.  
And while Jay sometimes finds your need for punctuality weirdly endearing (but don't tell anyone that), he also values not getting scolded on a Saturday morning (12PM is still morning to him, don't judge), especially when he could be sleeping in.   
As the café comes into view, Jay considers just throwing the towel in. Maybe he could fake a sudden illness, or better yet, skip town and maybe fake his own death or something. 
There's no point. Knowing you, you'd probably hunt him down for sport.  
With a sigh, Jay pushes open the door to the café, bracing himself for impact.  
And there you are. Exactly how he imagined.  
Seated at a small table by the window, papers perfectly aligned, laptop open, and two different colored highlighters placed meticulously side by side. Your foot taps in perfect sync with the café's background music, your eyebrows knitted together in focus, and your teeth chewing your bottom lip as if you're about to crack the Krabby Patty secret formula. The window next to you allows the afternoon sunlight to spill through and reflect off of you, making you look...dare he say it...almost pretty.
If Jay wasn't fearing for his life, he might have actually stopped to admire the view. Might have.  
When Jay finally reaches your table—17 minutes and 46 seconds late (but who's counting)—you look up, meeting his gaze with a look that's somewhere between not surprised but definitely not impressed. 
"Well, well," you say, quirking your mouth up ever so slightly that Jay thinks he might see you smile for the first time in, like, ever. "Look who finally decided to join us! Must be nice living on Jay Standard Time."  
Jay flashes his usual, unbothered smile as he pulls out the chair across from you.
"Oh, c'mon, Y/N. Seventeen minutes is nothing in the grand scheme of life."  
"Yeah? Tell that to our future robot baby when you're seventeen minutes late to feed it and its batteries die."  
"Yikes. That got dark quick," Jay's mutters, grin wavering. "But hey, glad to see you're finally accepting the fact that it's our future baby!"  
"Future robot baby," you peer your eyes at him from above your laptop. "Anyways, did you read the guidelines?"  
Jay rubs the back of his neck as he leans back into his chair. "Uh, define 'read'."  
Without missing a beat, you slap a packet of papers down on the table.
"Here's the breakdown. Feeding schedules, emotional development tracker, diaper changes, mood swings—the whole shebang. We're going to have to approach this strategically."  
"Woah, okay," Jay's eyebrows shoot up, his brain trying to catch up with the words you just spewed at him. "First, how the heck is a robot going to develop emotionally—that's a little scary if you ask me. Like, dystopian, Black Mirror, scary. And second, since when is parenting just following a spreadsheet? Isn't part of it, you know, winging it?"  
At the words 'winging it', your eye twitches so violently, Jay half-expects you to reach across the table and strangle him with his own hoodie strings. 
"Winging it?" You shut your laptop and lean forward. "Winging it is exactly how we end up with a malfunctioning robot baby that starts a fire and fails us. Parenting is all about structure, consistency—"  
"—and having a little fun," Jay cuts in, mouth quirked with mischief. "I mean, what's parenting without some chaos?"  
"Chaos," you mutter, narrowing your eyes at him, "is what you bring into my life on a daily basis."  
"Yeah, and yet you secretly love it," Jay shoots back, leaning in to meet you, as if daring you to disagree.  
You stare at him, unblinking. It's either you're plotting his slow and painful demise or seriously considering what he just said. No in-between.  
And yet, somehow, Jay almost finds it endearing how you can look like the world's most innocent golden retriever while also simultaneously sending him six feet under with just one agonizing glare. Almost.  
Finally, you sigh, "This isn't a joke, Jay. This is 40% of our grade."  
"And I'm 100% ready!" Jay shoots back with a wink, to which you respond with a full-body eye roll.  
"Oh yeah? Alright, Mr. Ready-for-Anything, what's your brilliant plan?"
"Hmm," Jay leans back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head as if he's got it all figured out (he doesn't). "Well, for one, I was thinking maybe...shifts. We split responsibilities based on our schedules. I'll take the baby on certain hours, you take it other hours, and we'll spend our free days together. And if we're not together and there's a baby crisis, we stay on call." 
In complete honesty, that came from out of nowhere. Jay didn't even know any ideas were subconsciously cooking up within him until the words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized it. But there's no way he was going to tell you that, not when you don't immediately tear his idea to shreds. In fact, you actually look...impressed? 
Or so he thinks. Jay definitely needs to get better at this whole 'reading your expressions' thing.  
"Huh," you murmur to yourself, fingers tapping against the table. "That's...not the worst idea you've ever had."  
Jay feels elated. Validation? From you? Phew, this means his life is spared. Thank god.  
Jay flashes you a satisfied smile and while you don't return it, he hopes you're secretly softening. Just a little. Behind that straight face, you're probably low-key impressed, but no way are you letting him see that.  
"Don't get too excited," you say, as if you've got some sixth sense for whenever Jay throws a mental victory parade. "This is only day one. Of, like, 42. We've got a long way to go."  
"Okay, okay," Jay raises his hands in surrender, though there's no hiding the smirk on his face as he still mentally takes the win. "Message received. Let's just figure out our schedules?"  
You nod, pushing your laptop aside to make space for a sheet of paper you've already prepared—because of course you're prepared. It's like you're about to whip up some elaborate high-stakes legal contract that probably involves blood signatures.
"Okay," you say, clicking your pen, picking a bright blue that basically stabs Jay's eyes by simply existing, but whatever makes you happy, I guess.
You write 'Jay's Schedule' at the top, neatly highlighting it with a pink highlighter that somehow hurts even more. Jay wonders if this is a secret ploy to blind him into submission. He wouldn't put it past you.  
"What's your typical weekly schedule like?"  
Jay squints, clearly thinking hard, as he tries to remember what a 'typical' week looks like for him. Mostly it's a mix of spontaneous decisions, power naps, and gym sessions sprinkled between classes.  
"Uh...well," Jay rubs the back of his neck. "I usually sleep in until like 11...sometimes noon, depends on the vibe, you know? Classes after that, gym a couple times a week, maybe? And, um, naps are non-negotiable. Make sure you pencil those in too."  
Your pen freezes mid-air, hovering like you're considering whether to throw it at his face or not.  
"Naps? Non-negotiable? For someone who wakes up at 11AM? We're raising a child, Jay, this requires commitment!"  
Jay raises a calm eyebrow. "Hey, sleep is very important for brain function! You wouldn't want me underperforming as a parent, right?"  
Your eye twitches. "No, Jay. That's already my biggest fear."  
But instead of escalating the snark, you bite your lip, clearly restraining yourself from unleashing a full lecture on time management. Jay struggles to stifle his own laugh at your reaction. If looks could kill, you'd have him buried under six feet of color-coded charts and to-do lists by now.  
Finally, you sigh, accepting your fate and jotting down ‘Jay’s naps: apparently crucial for survival’ in your notes with a frown drawn next to it, while Jay gives you an approving nod from across the table. 
"Alright, my turn," you flip the page over with dramatic flair, carefully writing 'Y/N's Schedule' in the same stab-your-eyes-blue and pink highlight combo as Jay mentally braces himself for what's to come.  
"So," you continue, starting with that no-nonsense tone that's clearly meant to be serious—but to Jay, there's something almost charming about how strict you are. "I wake up at 6."  
Jay's brain immediately short-circuits. Forget charming.
You’re downright crazy. 
"6? As in AM? On purpose?"  
You blink back at him, as if he's the one saying something ridiculous.
"Yes, Jay. On purpose."  
His mind reels, purely amazed, yet utterly horrified at the thought. 6AM? Who does that? He's seen 6AM before, sure, but only when he's stayed up all night, probably cramming for an exam. His mornings start at 10AM at best, and that's very, very rarely. There are birds chirping at 6AM. Who wants to live in a world where birds chirp you awake?  
When he doesn't respond—still in pure shock—you keep going, undeterred by his obvious existential crisis.
"I usually have class at 8AM until 1PM, then I try to pick up a shift here," you gesture around the very café you two are in, "and then—"  
"Wait, wait," Jay holds up a hand, needing a mental pause button. "You work here?"  
"Yeah," you nod, like it's the most casual thing ever. "Why, is that surprising?"  
Jay squints at you. He's never considered the idea of you pulling espresso shots and dealing with caffeine-deprived college students—he's always pegged you more as a 'quiet math tutor for third-graders' type. Or maybe someone who sells cute stationery at the campus bookstore, organizing pens in rainbow order or something. But now that he's picturing it, yeah, it kind of makes sense. Maybe that's why you're so uptight all the time—too much exposure to coffee fumes. Or, more likely (and evidently), you're just an insanely busy person.  
He likes the coffee fumes theory better.  
"I guess not," he admits, then surprises even himself by adding, "that's kind of impressive, though."  
He gives you a genuine smile, and you blink back, as if searching for the hidden jab that's usually lurking beneath his words. But it's not there this time...oddly. Slowly, your expression softens, and you give him the tiniest of smiles.
"Thanks? It's alright, I guess."  
It's nothing big—no, not at all—but Jay feels a weird sense of accomplishment at your reaction. Better than nothing. 
He leans in over the table, all faux-innocence—eyebrows raises, large puppy eyes and all.
"Does this mean you can get me a free coffee?"  
You lean in too, mirroring him, and he's not sure why his heart skips a beat at the close proximity. 
"Yeah...no. Nice try."  
Jay groans, throwing himself back in his chair dramatically. Worth a shot.  
"Anyway," you continue, totally unfazed, "I usually work here until 5, then Mondays I have a study group for Econ 301, and club meetings scattered throughout the week."  
Jay's head spins for maybe the nth time since he's sat down. Honestly, you lost him way back at 'class until 1PM.' Your schedule is like some kind of twisted Sudoku puzzle, except much more intimidating.  
"So...you're, like, busy...all the time?" he asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as his brain tries to process how anyone can function like this.  
You give him a look that almost convinces Jay himself that he's the crazy one here.
"Yes, Jay. I am."  
"Wow, okay. So why did you even take this class? What happened to being committed? You don't even have time to breathe."  
You narrow your eyes, and he swears you're about to launch into some motivational TedTalk.
"It's called efficiency, Jay. Also, I like to challenge myself. That's what parenthood is about, after all."
Jay stares at you like you've just self-declared yourself a cyborg.
"Oookayyy," he drawls, dragging out the word because, honestly, he's 99% sure you've completely lost it. The remaining 1%?  
It's slightly impressed by your sheer, terrifying level of commitment. He's over here winging life, including this conversation, while you've practically mapped out the rest of your entire existence. 
"Do you even, like, sleep? Or is that optional for you?"  
"Sleep is for the weak," you shoot him an amused glance, half-joking, half-serious.
Jay raises an eyebrow. "Good to know I'm weak, then."  
You stifle a laugh, but Jay catches the brief twitch of your lips before you quickly compose yourself. He’s known you for so long, and yet, this might be the first time he’s seen even a hint of your guard slipping. It’s subtle, barely there, but he notices. And for some reason, it makes him smile. You’re always so put together, so serious—but this small crack in your armor? Jay can’t help but appreciate it.  
Maybe, just maybe, he could get you to soften up more if he tried hard enough.
And yeah, he’s definitely going to try. 
But before he can try to tease you more, you snap back into business mode, instantly scribbling down more notes.
"Alright, so let’s just split the baby's care based on my work schedule and your...nap schedule, apparently."  
Jay leans back in his chair, catching that flicker of amusement in your voice—despite the serious look on your face—and he fights the urge to push a little more. There's something about that side of you—not the one behind the cold wall you've built of color-coded schedules and deadlines—that he wants to see more of. Somehow.  
"Works for me,” he shrugs and grins at you, “but if the baby's anything like me, it'll nap a lot. You might have it easy."
"And if it’s anything like me,” you mutter, barely pausing, “then it’ll easily get annoyed by you.”
Jay catches the ghost of a smile on your face, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it—which he definitely is. It’s enough to keep him intrigued. He leans forward, resting his chin in his hand like he’s watching some fascinating show. 
You don’t notice him staring—or maybe you do, but you’re too busy pretending you don’t. Either way, there’s a small, almost imperceptible shift in your body language that Jay senses. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and you don’t look like you’re mentally calculating how many minutes you have left before you can escape this meeting.
Jay decides to take advantage of the moment. “So…do you think our robot baby is also going to be a superhuman genius? Like in a you way?” 
You finally let out a laugh, to his surprise, and he feels so satisfied he has to bite his lip to hold back a smile. “Definitely, but also part crazy. Like in a you way.” 
Jay chuckles, mentally declaring this conversation a victory. Your laugh fades but for a split second, he catches you studying his face like you’re trying to figure out what his deal is. And he doesn’t mind it at all—because, for once, you’re not giving him the usual death glare that sometimes seems permanently reserved for him.
Then, just as he starts to settle into this very rare, almost… pleasant vibe between you two, you suddenly snap back to reality, capping your pen and standing up. 
Jay frowns as he watches as you turn towards the coffee bar, not ready for this conversation to end just yet.  
"Wait, where are you going?" he blurts out, sounding more tragic than intended. 
You pause, turning back with a look that sends his pulse tripping.
"Do you want a free coffee or not?"  
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The following Monday, at exactly 9:55AM, you and Jay are handed your robot baby—Jisoo, as Jay somehow convinces you to name it after his favorite celebrity—at the end of your class.  
You didn't even try to put up a fight. The moment Jay's eyes lit up at the idea, you knew you'd already lost. After three whole minutes of bickering and one PowerPoint titled 'Why Our Baby Deserves to be Named After Star Quality,' you realized there was no saving it. He had arguments. He had fan chants memorized. For a robot baby. Your robot baby. 
"Admit it, Jisoo has star quality," Jay beams, proudly looking down at the robotic baby in the baby carrier that came with her.  
You look from Jisoo to Jay, then back to Jisoo, unimpressed. "It's a robot, Jay. Not your bias."  
"Bias or not, she deserves only the best," Jay just shrugs, unbothered.
He glances down at the robot, which blinks its eyes open and closed with a soft whirring noise, its chubby plastic arms flopping lifelessly by its sides.  
There's a beat of silence as you both stare down at it, unsure of what to do next.  
"It's kind of creepy, right?" you finally mutter, breaking the knowing silence between you two.  
Jay snorts. "Not even 'kind of.' A lot."
He leans in to inspect it, his brows furrowed, "So, does it just…sit there?”  
"No, it's on schedule. It says here it won't eat for another three hours and it has a clean diaper, so everything should be fine. Babies are predictable once you understand their needs, Jay," you huff, already pulling out the meticulously detailed notes you took during class.
Jay lifts an eyebrow as he turns to face you, "Right...because in real life, babies are totally like robots and are totally predictable. Got it."  
You open your mouth to respond, probably with something unnecessarily snarky (you don't know what yet though, you haven't gotten to that part yet), when a loud, high-pitched wail shatters the air, cutting through the now-empty classroom you two are in. The robot baby's face contorts into an exaggerated crying expression, its mechanical arms flailing (which you didn't even know was possible) like it's preparing for takeoff. 
"What the—" Jay instinctively jumps back like Jisoo is a grenade on her last few seconds.
"Why's it doing that? What did you do?"  
"I didn’t do anything!" You snap, panic slowly rising as you flip through your notes quickly. "It's not supposed to be crying! It shouldn't be hungry, and it's definitely not tired yet!"  
The wailing intensifies, vibrating through the room as the cries echo louder and louder, Jisoo clearly not caring about your carefully crafted timeline. You glance down at your schedule. Why is it crying?  
You groan and snatch Jisoo out of the carrier, awkwardly holding her in a way that's probably not safe for any life form, real or otherwise. The wailing doesn't stop. In fact, it gets louder, as if Jisoo's personally offended by your existence.  
"Hold her!" You quickly thrust her into Jay's arms, a horrified expression written all over his face. "You deal with it."  
"Deal with what? It's a robot!" Jay stares at the baby in his arms like it's going to explode. "Oh god, are we even sure this is safe?"  
"Yes, Jay! It's a baby!"
You're sure you're borderline going insane from the combination of the screeching baby and Jay's apparent lack of brain cells.  
Jay's eyes widen as Jisoo practically vibrates with the force of its cries. He tries to mimic the way you were holding her, cradling her against his chest like she's made of glass. It doesn't help. Jisoo keeps wailing, and now Jay looks genuinely distressed. 
"Uh, shh, little buddy, it's okay...Should I, like, burp it? Sing to it?"  
“Sing?” You give him a look like he’s completely lost it, but Jay’s already humming off-key under his breath. 
The baby, predictably, continues screeching. 
You both just stand there, staring at the baby, then at each other, the panic palpable in the room. Jay continues bouncing it lightly, as if this will magically solve everything.
“Does it have an off switch?” he asks, glancing at you like you've parented a robot baby before. 
You continue to frantically flip through your notes, pages rustling in a blur. “No, Jay! We can’t just turn off our baby!” 
“Well, I don’t know, Y/N, but I’m pretty sure babies aren’t supposed to sound like they’re summoning a demon!” Jay retorts, his tone climbing the ladder of panic. "Maybe she's hungry or something."  
“It can’t be hungry, it's not supposed to be!" You’re still too busy scanning your notes as you shake your head in disagreement.
Jay just shakes his head, gently cradling the baby even though he's sure it's about to lift off into space from how much it was shaking right now. 
“Sometimes you can’t schedule everything, Y/N. Maybe it just needs a bottle, like, right now.” 
The idea frustrates you. “But it’s not time yet. If we feed it off-schedule, it’ll mess everything up for the day.” 
The baby’s cries reach a shrill pitch, like it’s protesting your protest. Jay looks at you, then back at the crying baby, then back at you again. 
“I think it’s already messed up, so maybe we just... feed it?” he says, half-grinning, half-exasperated. 
You hesitate. It feels wrong. Babies are supposed to follow patterns, stick to a routine...or so you thought. You let out a frustrated sigh, your brain bleeding from the sheer sound of the glass-breaking screams.  
“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing the bottle from the supply bag. “But if this throws off the whole schedule, it’s your fault.” 
Jay grins, but there’s something softer in his expression behind it as he watches you struggle with the bottle...and your need for control.
“Deal.” 
You hand the bottle to him, and he places the nipple into the baby’s mouth. The wailing stops almost instantly. The sudden silence is deafening, and both of you are stunned for a moment, looking down at the baby who’s now peacefully drinking. 
You let out a small gasp of relief and turn your head up to look at Jay, who's widened eyes meet yours.  
Jay lets out a held breath. “Well. That was traumatic.” 
You roll your eyes, though there’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips as you mutter, “I think I just lost three years of my life."  
Jay watches as you carefully take Jisoo from his arms and place her back into the carrier, making sure everything is in order. He’s still catching his breath, but he glances at you—relaxed, for once, after the panic—and it makes him feel something weird. He almost laughs. 
“I dunno,” he says, a little teasingly. “I think we handled that pretty well.” 
“Great, now just five weeks and six days of this left." You give him a look, but there’s a tiny, fleeting smile this time. "I just don't understand why it was crying. It's not supposed to need food until—"  
Jay cuts you off with a chuckle. “Y/N, it’s a baby. Real ones don’t run on algorithms. They just... cry when they need something. Like this little gal. I mean, you can't exactly schedule crying, right?” 
The silence stretches for a moment as you watch him, realization dawning a little slower than you’d like to admit. “I guess,” you mutter reluctantly, earning yourself a content-looking Jay.  
"Look at us—team effort," Jay says, as he beams a smile to you before glancing at Jisoo. "We're naturals at this whole parenting thing."  
"Yeah, okay," you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face says differently as you reach out to unnecessarily fuss with the small blanket in Jisoo's carrier.  
Jay's eyes light up at your response.
"A smile? The Y/N gave me a smile? Admit it, we make a great team, huh?"  
You scoff, but the look on your face proves there's no bite to it—Jay knows there's no bite to it.  
Maybe, just maybe, he has a point.  
You'd never admit it to him, though. 
Not yet.  
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To your pleasant surprise, the past two weeks have been...weirdly smooth. Like, suspiciously smooth. You and Jay have somehow managed to fall into an actual routine—dropping off and picking up Jisoo like two semi-functional adults who almost know what they’re doing. You still wouldn’t call it 'seamless', as Jay himself struggled with having a consistent schedule for once in his life, but at least you’ve gotten through the weeks without major incidents or spontaneous combustion. So far.
That doesn't mean you'll admit to anyone—least of all yourself—that you and Jay might actually make a decent team. His parenting methods are still objectively abysmal...to you, at least. I mean, just the other day, he almost put Jisoo's diaper on upside down. Upside down. You didn't even know that was possible, but leave it to Jay to surprise you more and more.  
Despite his questionable approach to baby care, Jisoo's still alive (you think), and somehow you've managed not to explode at him yet (key word: yet). So, that's...something, I guess.  
Today, though. Today is a different beast entirely.  
It's Sunday, and miraculously, you've managed to give yourself the evening off. No café shift, no emergency club meetings. The stars have aligned, and for once, you have free time. And what did you decide to do with this rare gift from the universe?  
Spend it with Jay. Parenting. Together. In his apartment.  
You blame Professor Kim for this cruel twist of fate. Something about submitting photographic evidence of co-parenting. After all, this is a partner project.  
Teamwork, she called it.  
You like to call it pure suffering.  
Which brings you here, standing outside Jay's apartment with a tote bag of baby supplies on one shoulder, Jisoo's carrier on the other, and a silent prayer on your lips. If this apartment is even half the disaster you're imagining—frat house, landfill, or some unholy combination of both—you're fully prepared to turn around and run for the hills.  
You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever horrors await behind the door, and knock three times.  
Precisely five seconds later, the door swings open, and...yep, there's Jay. His hair is a mess, his clothes are rumpled, and you can't tell if he's been a) napping, b) playing video games, or c) all of the above.  
"Hey," he greets you with a lazy grin, eyes half-lidded like he's still half-asleep.  
It's 6PM.  
You stare at him, deadpan.
"You look like you've been hit by a truck."  
Jay snorts as he raises an eyebrow.
"You should see the truck."  
Before you can fire back with something equally sarcastic, you catch a glimpse of his apartment over his shoulder, and—you blink, confused. Wait. Wait.  
Well this can't be right.  
You were expecting a disaster. Maybe a few pizza boxes, a stray sock on the floor, some suspicious stains on the couch. But no.
Instead...it's clean. Like, really clean.  
The floors are spotless, there's a shelf with neatly stacked books, and are those...framed photos on the walls? Like, actual art? Your own apartment doesn't even have actual art, just print outs from Walgreens of photos you thought were cute on Pinterest and your Justin Bieber posters you got from a magazine back in high-school. Now you're starting to feel ashamed.  
You do a double-take, your brain struggling to process what's happening, as Jay still stands in front of you, confused at your gawking.
"Y/N? You good?"  
You snap your mouth shut, as you spot a vacuum neatly tucked in the corner of the living room.
"I...I'm just surprised you even know what a vacuum is." 
"You'll learn I'm full of surprises, Miss Y/N," he says, casually leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you, his gaze making you shift in your stance in front of him. "Come on in."  
You step inside cautiously, like you're waiting for something to jump out at you—maybe a camera with someone saying 'You've been pranked, this isn't Jay's actual apartment!'  
But nope. His apartment is just...nice. It smells like eucalyptus and citrus, for crying out loud.  
You set Jisoo's carrier down on the couch, the robot itself still fast asleep, as your eyes scan the room, still half-expecting to find a hidden mess somewhere. But instead, something else catches your attention.  
On the wall, next to his kitchen, there's a collection of professional-looking photographs, all framed neatly. This is what caught your eye earlier from the doorway. You find yourself slowly walking closer to get a closer look: landscapes, city stresses, a few candid shots of people—all in the same style, same camera quality, same angles. You tilt your head, intrigued.
Jay comes up behind you to see what you're looking at and you turn to him, "Are these...yours?" 
"Oh," he scratches the back of his neck, looking almost shy. "Yeah. I do some photography sometimes. Just a hobby."  
You blink up at him. Jay Park? A photographer? This was not on your Jay Park Bingo card. 
"Huh," you say, before realizing how dumb you sound. "I didn't know you were into that."  
"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Y/N. Full of surprises, remember?" Jay replies, his head tilting to match yours with a cocky smile, which—ugh, okay fine—makes you feel just the tiniest bit flustered. Not that you'll admit it.  
"Oh, really?" You raise an eyebrow. "And here I thought your only hobbies were napping and showing up late." 
"That's just the surface level," he says with a wink, walking over to his coffee table and grabbing his laptop. "I was actually editing photos before you showed up." 
Intrigued, you follow him to the couch and sit beside him as he flips open the laptop. You squint at the editing software on the screen—full of layers, sliders, and all sorts of professional-looking tools that immediately make your head hurt. Jay scrolls through the images, and honestly?
They’re good. Really good. Like, if you didn’t know better, you’d think some of them could be in a magazine. And not the kind of magazine you got your Bieber Fever posters in.  
"Wow," you say, nodding, genuinely impressed. "That’s… actually really cool." 
Jay freezes, his head snapping toward you with a look of disbelief. He stares at you, eyes narrowing like you’ve just broken some unspoken rule.
"It's been ten seconds...you just gave me an actual compliment without a sarcastic follow-up."  
You let out a small giggle, "Geez, you always make me sound like some soulless witch or something."  
"I mean… soulless witch might be a bit much. But, like… emotionally unavailable overlord? Hmm, maybe," Jay grins, leaning back in mock thought.
You burst out laughing before you can stop yourself, the sound catching Jay off guard. He looks at you, wide-eyed, like he’s just witnessed a rare phenomenon. And maybe he has—because even you can’t remember the last time you laughed this freely.
"Wow. I should annoy you more often," Jay smirks, clearly way too satisfied with himself. You’re not entirely sure if he meant it to sound that smooth, but your brain certainly processed it that way. Heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, and you quickly clear your throat, a small, flustered smile playing at your lips. 
You try to gather yourself, praying your voice doesn’t betray you.
"Don’t push your luck, Park," you manage, but the teasing edge in your voice is softer than usual—way softer. And, of course, Jay knows it. You know it. You’re still smiling, and—unfortunately for you—so is he. 
Jay suddenly clears his throat as he shifts in his seat, "So...should we order like a pizza or something? Are you hungry?"  
And because lately the universe apparently has a personal vendetta against you, your stomach chooses that exact moment to let out a sound—one that resembles between a whale’s mating call and a frog being strangled. 
Jay stifles a laugh, trying to act casual but failing miserably, "Okay… pizza it is." 
“Shut up,” you mutter, giving him a playful shove that’s just enough to make him fall back into the couch cushions. 
"No, you tell your stomach to shut up," Jay snickers, grabbing his phone to place the order. 
You’re about to fire back with something—anything—but a soft wail interrupts you from the baby carrier. 
"Someone needs attention," you say, scooping Jisoo up and cradling her in your arms. “It’s about time for her to eat anyway.” 
As you juggle Jisoo with one hand and dig through the baby bag for her fake bottle of milk with the other, Jay watches you from his spot on the couch, a curious look in his eyes.
“While you feed her, I’ll take care of the pizza. I’m guessing you’re more of a plain cheese type, huh?” 
You freeze for a second, then whip your head around to give him a mock-offended look.
“First, you think I’m a soulless witch, and now boring? I at least add pepperoni and sausage. Give me some credit.” 
"Okay, okay, noted," Jay lifts his hands up in surrender, "So adventurous. I'll remember that next time you call me irresponsible."  
You roll your eyes at him as you adjust Jisoo in your arms, holding the bottle steady at her mouth. It’s quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being the soft hum of your fake baby and Jay tapping on his phone. 
Suddenly Jay puts his phone down, turning to you with an unreadable expression. “You’re really serious about this whole parenting thing, huh?” 
You blink, still rocking Jisoo in your arms.  You're thrown off by the sudden shift and sincerity in his tone.  
“Well… yeah. I think it’s important, you know? Responsibility, structure… that’s what makes people feel safe. Especially kids. They need to know they’re taken care of.” 
Jay’s expression shifts as he listens, a more thoughtful look settling on his face.
“You're a strong believer of that, aren't you? Structure and schedules and all that?"  
His voice is a lot quieter now, lower, and you realize you've never really had a serious conversation (that wasn't a class debate) with him before—at least not long enough to hear this version of Jay. The serious Jay. And if you're being honest, it's making you a bit flustered. You hesitate, hoping your voice doesn't crack or something equally embarrassing.  
“I mean… I guess so. I was raised that way. My parents always had everything planned out. It was like...nothing ever went wrong because there was always a system, a backup plan.” 
Jay raises an eyebrow, leaning forward a little in his seat.
“But didn’t that feel, I don’t know... suffocating? Like, what if things don’t go according to plan? You can’t control everything.” 
Your first instinct is to scoff, but something stops you. It's a valid question, and for some reason, you don’t feel the need to throw up your usual defenses for once. That's new.  
“Maybe sometimes,” you admit. “But I don’t know any other way. It just feels like if you’re not prepared, things fall apart. And that’s the worst feeling—like watching everything crumble because you weren’t ready for it.” 
Jay is quiet, studying you with an intensity that feels new. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced with something more serious.
“Yeah, I get that. I didn’t have a lot of structure growing up. Parents were kinda… there, but not really. I think that’s why I don’t plan much. Life happens whether you’re ready or not.” 
You blink as you sit back in your seat, absorbing his words. It’s the first time you’ve really thought about Jay outside of his 'laid-back' image of him you've had in your head, and honestly, you’re surprised by how heavy his words feel. 
“But…you’re actually good with Jisoo,” you say, almost cautiously, unsure if you’re diving into uncharted territory. “You’ve been handling this project better than I thought you would.” 
Jay laughs softly, shaking his head as he looks at Jisoo in your arms.
“It’s just a robot baby, Y/N. No big deal if I mess up.” 
"It’s not just about the robot baby,” you counter, realizing you're saying more than you intended. “You actually care. You’re not graded on how well you change diapers or keep her entertained, but you’re still putting in effort. You’re trying. And that matters.” 
There's a beat of silence as you see Jay pause. For once, he doesn't have a comeback. Instead, he's just looking at you—really looking at you—like he's trying to figure something out, and you feel the heat slowly creeping back onto your face. You're sure you're turning an unflattering shade of red under his gaze on you, and part of you, no, all of you, is begging for him to say something immediately before you combust.  
Then, with a suddenness that almost makes you jump, he leans over and nudges your arm lightly.
“Okay, Dr. Phil. Don't go getting all soft on me now."  
You let out a playful scoff to mask your relief, thankful for the release of tension in the air. But something about the conversation lingers in the air, hanging like a question neither of you is ready to ask. And despite the teasing, your mind can’t help but circle back to how Jay had looked at you—serious, curious… something else. 
Before you can dwell on it too long, the doorbell rings. Saved by the pizza gods. Jay springs up from the couch to answer the door, and you gently place the now-snoozing Jisoo back in her carrier. The conversation still swirls in your head as you watch Jay grab the pizza, too caught up in your thoughts to not even question how suspiciously fast it arrived. 
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching Jay at the door from your spot on the couch, your thoughts too heavy for someone who is literally holding a pizza box. 
For someone who sure likes to plan everything out, you definitely weren’t prepared for Jay Park—and how he's quickly becoming the exception to every rule you've ever made. 
✭・.・✫
The first thing that jars you awake is a piercing scream—Jisoo's, of course. Your eyes shoot open as you squint into the dim light, your eyes adjusting and blinking your way out of the accidental nap you fell into. You're trying to make sense of your surroundings through your blurry vision when...it hits you.  
This isn't your room. You're still at Jay's apartment, wedged into the corner of his couch, and apparently, you fell asleep. Post-pizza-food-coma style. And also apparently, your mutual robot child has decided now was a perfect time for a meltdown.  
The second thing you notice is the faint background noise of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire still playing on Jay's TV in front of you. Your memory jogs back to when you two finally came to a consensus on which movie to watch over dinner, and naturally, the deciding factor ended up being 'young Robert Pattinson,' and no, it wasn't your deciding factor. You didn't expect Jay to even have an opinion on this, but apparently, his love for Cedric Diggory is a hill he's willing to die on.  
And then...that brings us to the third thing. A sound from the other end of the couch—Jay's soft snores. You two must have dozed off at some point during the movie somehow and of course, he's still passed out cold, totally oblivious to the screams of robotic despair coming from the baby carrier seated between you two. You glance over at him, out cold with his head tilted back, looking completely unbothered by Jisoo's increasingly offended screams.  
But even through all these realizations, what really slaps you awake, more than Jisoo or Jay or Cedric Diggory, is the smell. It hits you like a rogue sock to the face, and for a moment, you're convinced that Jay definitely has some biological-grade garbage decomposing somewhere in the apartment after all. The smell is like a powerful, radioactive wave, and all you can think is, What in the world is this guy hiding in here? And why is it now coming to life?  
You sit up from your spot, still half-asleep, and follow the foul scent in horror until you realize the source.  
Jisoo.  
Sure, you have changed Jisoo's diapers plenty of times over the last two weeks, but before? There was no smell. At most, you get these weird, vaguely sticky robotic poops in her diaper that barely registered. Now? Now it’s like Professor Kim somehow remotely gave Jisoo a software update and coded her to emit a scent so pungent that it feels borderline illegal. You're convinced this is Jisoo’s final boss form—peak realism unlocked—solely just to spite you and your nostrils.
While you’re here on one end of the couch, one button away from confirming an Amazon Prime order to ship over a bottle of bleach for you to dip your nose into, Jay is still in blissful dreamland, not even flinching. You stare at him in disbelief, hoping your sheer mental outage might magically wake him up. No such luck. 
You grab the throw pillow that's wedged under you and chuck in right at his face.  
"Jay!" You're still half-asleep, so your voice comes out like a strangled whisper, somewhere between pleading and passive-aggressive murder.  
Jay jolts, sitting up with a sleepy yelp, blinking in confusion.
"Huh? What happened? Is Cedric okay?" His panicked gaze darts around the room wildly before they finally settle on you, across the couch. 
"What happened?" You raise a finger to the screaming, stinky, betrayal-machine between you two. "That happened, Jay. Jisoo happened."  
Jay blinks slowly, squinting at Jisoo, his brain clearly struggling to boot up, and then makes the fatal mistake of sniffing the air. The realization suddenly dawns slowly, and you can see the look of horror hit.
"Oh my god, how is she even capable of...of that?!" His voice breaks three octaves as his hand shoots up to pinch his nose.  
"I don't know!" You squawk, equally traumatized. "She's never done this before—I didn't even know she could!"  
Jay groans and rubs his eyes, hoping this is all a bad, bad dream. No such luck, yet again. He glances around helplessly. "So, uh, who's changing her?"  
You shoot him a glare as you get up from the couch and start looking for the baby bag.
"We're changing her, Jay."  
"We?" Jay winces, inching towards Jisoo with all the enthusiasm one has when approaching a radioactive waste barrel. He slowly reaches down to take Jisoo out from the carrier and he starts muttering to himself.
"Great. Fine, this is fine. Just another bonding moment with our adorable robo-daughter." He finally picks her up, reluctantly holding her at arm's length like she's a ticking time bomb. It's so ridiculous that, despite the war-crime-level smell permeating the room, you can't help the small laugh that you let out.  
"What?" Jay glares at you, though a look of amusement tugs at his lips. "You think this is funny?"  
"No," you say, barely stifling your giggles. "It's just—you're holding her like she's about to explode."  
Jay gives you a doubtful look, "Y/N, I'm not convinced she's not about to explode."  
You shake your head, still giggling as you shuffle the carrier off the couch and lay out a blanket, turning Jay's couch surface into a makeshift changing station.
"Alright, c'mon. Lay her down and hold her legs up. I'll handle clean-up duty. And maybe...brace yourself."  
Jay exhales like a man about to face his greatest fear. He gently lays Jisoo down and lifts her legs up with the tips of his fingers, his face still contorted as if you're both dealing with a toxic hazard. At this point, it probably is.  
"Oh my god," he breathes. "This is it. This is how I die."  
You crouch down in position so you're at level with the couch and say a mental prayer before you pull open the tiny diaper. The moment you do, the both of you immediately recoil as a scent that should not even be allowed to exist wafts up and fills the room.  
“Oh god.” 
The scent is so ungodly it feels like it came from the depths of hell itself and punched you both right in the face. It doesn’t just waft up—it attacks. You’re pretty sure you lost at least another three years off your life from one breath alone. 
"That's not legal," Jay chokes as he flings himself back at the sight, dropping Jisoo’s little toes in the process, flailing around as if the air itself betrayed him. "There's no way that's legal." 
You freeze in sheer horror, staring at the scene before you: Jisoo’s somehow realistic poop smeared across every surface of her bottom it possibly could spread to, the stench intensifying with every passing second.
Jay starts pacing the room, spiraling into an existential crisis.
“No, no, no, this isn’t normal. This is—this is a crime scene! This can’t be right.” 
“Jay,” your voice is muffled as a hand tries to cover both your nose and mouth from the contaminated air, “Jay, focus!” 
Jay looks at you from across the living room, wide-eyed and pale, like a deer caught in headlights.
“You expect me to—in this economy—” 
“Grab. The. Wipes.”
Jay groans and he stumbles back towards you, hesitantly rifling through the baby bag. His hands finally find the pack of wipes and he peers over your shoulder from behind you, as if you’re his shield. 
“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to help?”
“I am helping,” Jay protests weakly, waving the pack of wipes like they’re a magic wand that might save you both.
You roll your eyes and turn back to Jisoo, “Okay, grab her legs again. I’ll wipe.” 
His eyes watch in horror as he reaches over you to take hold of the robot’s feet. With a deep breath, you start furiously scrubbing Jisoo’s little body, trying your best to breathe as minimally as possible, sticking your hand out towards Jay whenever you need a new wipe. 
“I signed up for fake parenting, not surviving a biohazard. This isn’t bonding; this is trauma,” Jay incoherently mumbles, placing a wipe in your hand. 
"I think this trauma is exactly what we're supposed to be learning and 'bonding' from," you retort, carefully tossing a soiled wipe into the designated waste bag.  
"Oh, so Professor Kim is forcing us to bond over mutual suffering? Very sweet," Jay deadpans as he hands you another wipe. 
"Exactly. Parenting at its finest."  
Finally, after you definitely lost three years of your life, the horror show is over. Jisoo is cleaned, diapered, and—somehow—actually looks peaceful for once. Like she didn't just commit a crime against humanity. 
Jay exhales, looking at her with a newfound joy. "Well. She's definitely...less terrifying when she's not screaming and emitting toxic fumes."  
You plop yourself on the couch and cradle Jisoo like she's a tiny, innocent angel instead of the cause of your collective suffering.
“I’m genuinely afraid to know what they put in her system for this to happen.” 
Jay collapses onto the couch beside you, visibly relieved, "Whatever it was, we did it. We survived. We did that." 
You can't help but laugh, still a bit punch-drunk from the adrenaline and exhaustion of it all, "We better get an A+ on this project."  
Jay chuckles, leaning his head back against the couch. The room falls into a brief silence, just the two of you sitting there, basking in the weird accomplishment of it all. Then, as if on cue, you both start laughing—a deep, exhausting kind of laugh that two people only share after a 'you had to be there' type moment. There's something about the whole ordeal—how ridiculous, how hilariously awful it was—that just makes it impossible to not laugh.  
"Now do you think we make a pretty good team?" Jay grins, nudging your shoulder with his.   
You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know...depends."  
Jay raises an eyebrow, "Depends on what?"  
"Depends on whether you can make it through the rest of the project without crying again," you quip, lips twitching into an amused grin.  
Jay gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "Excuse you, I did not cry. My eyes were sweating from Jisoo's toxic fumes. A completely normal biological response, thank you very much."  
"Sure, Jay," you deadpan, shaking your head.  
"Besides," he continues, leaning back smugly, "I did all the heavy lifting. Literally. I held the live grenade."  
You snort, glancing down at Jisoo in your arms before handing her off to Jay, "You're unbelievable."  
"And you're stuck with me, partner," he grins back, rocking Jisoo in his arms. "You too, Jisoo." 
You lean back into the couch, watching Jay coo at the now-peaceful baby. Somewhere between his flair for over-the-top dramatics, his secret love for young Robert Pattinson, and (for some reason) endearing passion for photography, you realize…maybe Jay Park isn’t the complete disaster you thought he was. 
"Yeah," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I really am stuck with you."  
And for the first time since this ridiculous project started, you don't mind that as much as you thought you would.  
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Jay would like to make a few things clear. 
First of all, none of this is his fault. 
He hopes you understand that, as his thumbs fly over the keyboard of his phone like his life depends on it.
Because, in a way, it does. 
Jay [11:32 AM]: “i swear it’s not my fault, but my friend, jake, his entire load of laundry is now the color of strawberry milk. and apparently i’m the only one that can help him. can i drop jisoo off with you for like… an hour? tops?” 
He stares at his phone, waiting for your response like you hold the key to his survival.
Because, in a way, you do. 
He hears Jisoo coo from her carrier, like even she knows how dire this situation is. Finally, his phone lights up with a buzz. 
Y/N [11:33 AM]: “i’m volunteering at a dog adoption event on campus, but sure, drop her off here :)” 
Jay blinks at his phone. A dog adoption event. Of course, you'd be saving puppies on a Saturday. Of course. Like some kind of unreasonably perfect human. And here he is, about to save a fully grown man from having to wear solely pink t-shirts for the next week.
Fantastic.   
With a sigh, Jay turns to Jisoo, who blinks back a stare that can only be described as the (robot) baby equivalent of good luck, bro. 
By the time Jay reaches campus, he's bombarded with the sight and sound of...dogs. Dogs everywhere. It's as if he's entered the chaotic lovechild of a Disney movie and a petting zoo, complete with wags, barks, and the smell of kibble. And then he sees you. 
You're smack in the middle of a fenced playpen, laughing, surrounded by every breed of fluffy chaos imaginable and passersby cooing 'aww' at the sight. And what a sight it is.  
You look ridiculously happy, and for some reason, that makes something in Jay's chest feel weirdly tight. He wonders what it must feel like to be able to make you smile that widely, that brightly. It's unnerving. He's not used to seeing you so relaxed, so content—or maybe he's just not used to noticing how good you look when you're not glaring at him.  
"Y/N!" a voice calls from the volunteer tent, snapping Jay out of his daydream. Jay watches from the distance as you haul a golden retriever pup into your arms and walk over to the tent, naturally falling into conversation with your friend and immediately organizing papers. Meanwhile, Jay stands there, dumbfounded at your unbothered, graceful rhythm that you seem to fall into like second nature. 
Jay thought he had you figured out, filed neatly in his mental drawer of uptight-control-freaks-that-happen-to-smell-like-roses-and-have-perfect-smiles, but now? Something about the way you look—so confident, so caring, so...natural—catches him off guard.
Now, you're like some serene multitasking goddess in the middle of pure chaos.  
That brings us to the second thing Jay would like to clarify (more so to himself): he definitely doesn't think you look good in, like, an attractive sense, or anything insane like that. Absolutely not. He just is simply impressed at how you seem to manage and carry yourself quite elegantly. This is pure admiration. Admiration, okay?  
But...while he's here, staring in 'admiration', it suddenly hits him—you're not just good at taking care of Jisoo. You're good at taking care of everything.  
And that makes his heart do a weird flip.  
The realization that he's been staring for way too long jolts him back to the present. Focus, Jay. There's a Jake somewhere out there, lost in a sea of pink underwear.  
Jisoo carrier in hand, Jay manages to push his way through the dog-packed crowds until he reaches you, but the second you turn around, flashing him that wide, carefree smile that he's still not used to, he's back to stumbling over himself.  
He’s 99% sure he audibly gulps. 
“Oh, Jay, you made it!” you say, shifting the puppy to one side of your arms to free a hand to grab Jisoo's carrier immediately. Your smile is disarmingly genuine. Jay thinks he may need to sit down.  
“Uh, yeah—um, thanks for taking Jisoo," he swallows, his voice barely steady as he's unsure what this feeling is that came over him. He doesn't know if it's the fact that he's seeing you in a completely different light right now, carrying both a live, adorable puppy, and a (not-so-live) baby, but something is different, and he's at a loss for words. "You look pretty—uh…busy.”  
He curses himself. Busy? Really? 
“Oh, no biggie,” you give him an easy, encouraging grin, one so casual that it really shouldn't make his knees feel like Jell-O. "Honestly, I'd be out here every weekend if I could. But you of all people know my schedule."  
Of course, you'd say something like that. Jay tries to think of a normal response, but his brain is spinning with all sorts of not-normal things about you—like how you look so aggressively pretty right now. 
And it’s a little infuriating. 
"Yeah, no, totally," Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Because who doesn't want to be covered in dog hair and slobber for fun?"  
You roll your eyes, smiling. "Says the guy who's about to be knee-deep in a laundry crisis. Isn't that a little messy, too?"  
Jay huffs, feeling himself return just a little bit back to normal. “Listen, Jake’s a special case, okay? You can’t just leave him in that pink laundry disaster and expect him to survive.” 
"Right..," you laugh, rocking back and forth on your feet, your smile lingering as a comfortable silence falls between you.  
Maybe it's the way you're looking up at him, or the fact that a literal golden retriever is currently nuzzling into your neck, but Jay is doing everything in his power to keep his cool. You're looking at him in a way that isn't remotely judgmental (for once), and it's throwing him completely off-balance.  
Before Jay can pull it together and say something else, another voice calls your name, waving you over to a different table. You turn back to Jay, giving him an apologetic glance.  
"Do you mind watching Jisoo—and, um, this puppy—for a sec?"  
Before he can answer, or even process your words, he's standing there with an actual puppy in one arm, and Jisoo in her carrier in the other, and his life has become a circus he never auditioned for.  
"Sorry! They just need me real quick!" You say with a grateful smile as you hurry off.  
As you rush off with another apologetic smile, Jay's brain, for better or for worse, decides that grin of yours is now his mental screensaver. He watches you go, dumbly smiling before he catches himself. 
Not attraction, he reminds himself. Totally not attraction.  
He looks down at his arms—one occupied by a carrier with a robot baby, the other holding a wriggly puppy.  
"Bet no one's ever been in this situation before," he mutters, awkwardly standing there as he waits for your return. Honestly, Jay has never felt so awkward or nervous before. Right now, he feels like the epitome of the standing emoji, just simply existing and there, waiting for your next command and hoping he doesn't screw it up.  
Jay tries to hype himself up. You can do this, Park. It's just a dog. And a baby. And you. You've got this. You totally have everything und— 
Before he can finish his mental pep talk, the sound of your laughter rings from across the event, making Jay's head snap over in record time. He tries not to look—he really does—but the sound is too angelic to not. But right when he does look over, he immediately wishes he didn't. 
You're standing there between two of your friends, and you're giggling. With some guy he's never seen before. And this guy, is nudging your shoulder and making you laugh so hard you're practically doubling over. He feels a distinct twist in his chest. 
Jay’s definitely not jealous. Nope. Not even a little. It's just...curiosity. Pure, innocent curiosity about what that guy could possibly be saying to make you laugh so hard. Because Jay has never seen you laugh like that with him—ever.
And suddenly, the longer you continue laughing with that guy, Jay feels something hot and uncomfortable bubbling up inside.  
Fine, it’s jealousy.  
Definitely jealousy.
He scowls at himself. Now he’s basically a bitter standing emoji, clinging to Jisoo and a puppy while glaring from afar. 
And there Jay stands, bitterness levels maxed, holding both a puppy and a robot baby, while across the way, your roommate Esther gives you a knowing smirk while you're recovering from your giggling fit. Your giggling fit which was caused by Heeseung making a comment about how he stepped in dog poop more times than the average human-being accidentally should.  
“You didn’t tell me that was Jay Park,” Esther says, trying not-so-subtly to sneak a glance at the bitter standing emoji himself, awkwardly shifting his feet in the distance, avoiding to look in your direction. “You said he was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around. You didn’t mention he’s a total cutie.” 
“He was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around,” you scoff, though you're clearly not thinking that right now as you catch a glance of him trying to balance both the puppy and Jisoo. "But...I don't think he's so bad anymore."  
You definitely don't add that he's a total cutie. Okay, maybe you think it, but saying it out loud is a whole other thing.  
“Oh, so you totally like him,” Heeseung snickers from your other side, nudging you again.  
You make a sound that's half out-of-tune trumpet, half hiccup, before breaking into a laugh to cover your sudden panic.
"No, I don't!" You clear your throat, trying to stay cool.  "We're just—look, we're just stuck together for this project. That's all. Even if I did like him, which I don't, he definitely doesn't like me back. We're probably just going to go back to bickering with each other to no end."  
“Right,” Heeseung chimes in, giving you a look that says he's clearly unconvinced. “Just saying, though—someone who doesn’t like you wouldn’t be staring at you like that, and looking at me like I just committed a first-degree crime just for breathing in your direction."  
You follow Heeseung’s gaze and, sure enough, you catch Jay trying to look casual while bouncing the puppy and acting like he totally didn’t just get caught. Your eyes meet, and he does a 180 so fast he nearly launches Jisoo into orbit. 
You quickly turn back to your friends, heat rising to your face as you catch Esther and Heeseung giving each other a knowing look before smirking at you. You roll your eyes and grab the both of them by the back of their shirts, turning them in the direction of the event, "Okay, okay, enough with the delusions. Shouldn't you guys be signing off some puppies or something?"  
"Don't say we didn't tell you so!" Esther calls after you as you turn on your heels towards Jay, furiously convincing yourself that they're so wrong.  
There's no universe in which Jay Park, the Jay Park, would ever be into you. The Jay Park, who can get any girl he wants, the Jay Park who's just too different from you, the Jay Park who you proclaimed your school rival (self-proclaimed). Absolutely not.  
When you get back to him, Jay’s desperately trying to look natural—so, naturally, he’s scratching the puppy’s belly while Jisoo clings to his chest like a tiny koala. Your heart gives a little traitorous squeeze, but you ignore it. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.  
“Looks like he likes you,” you say, trying to sound casual as you nod to the puppy, who's squirming excitedly under Jay's attention. 
“He’s adorable,” Jay replies, blushing faintly as he shifts the puppy around.
“So, uh, everything okay over there?” he asks, totally not imagining a deep, romantic conversation to explain your laughter. 
You’re caught off-guard, blinking, wondering if Jay somehow became psychic and caught onto your previous train of thoughts about him, until you realize what he meant.
“Oh! Yeah, they just… needed help with paperwork.” 
Jay’s expression hardens ever so slightly as he tries to imagine a world where paperwork could possibly be that funny.
“Cool, cool,” he nods stiffly, side-eyeing Heeseung in the distance who’s still chatting with Esther. 
"Well," Jay shifts awkwardly as clears his throat, "I should get going to Jake. He's probably in tears by now, honestly."  
You frown at that, and Jay instantly self-identifies himself as the worst person on the planet. He barely resists the urge to apologize for everything he's ever done, from breathing in your direction to any other crime against humanity he's committed in your eyes.  
"Aw, come on," you say, teasingly, though even you're not sure why. It's just...fun having him around. "Stay a little longer. For the puppies!"  
Jay opens his mouth, fully ready to decline when he catches sight of your expression—those big, pleading eyes that make it impossible to say no. 
And that's it. He's doomed. Right then and there, Jay knows he's doomed.  
Is Jay currently surrounded by more puppies than he ever thought could physically exist in one place?
Yes. 
Does he think your puppy eyes are somehow cuter than all the puppies combined?
Annoyingly, also yes.  
And so, Jay would like to make some new things clear, for the record:  
First, there is no way any of this is his fault. If Jake ends up crying over outfit choices and demands to know why Jay ditched him for puppies, Jay has a rock-solid explanation. He’ll explain the situation, which obviously couldn’t be helped. Hanging out with you? Totally justified. Perfectly valid.  
And second, well—Jay would like to clarify that it's official now. Whatever he was feeling before?
Yeah, definitely attraction.  
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Your fingers drum against your blanket. You stare blankly at your bedroom ceiling. You let out another deep sigh. You toss and turn, adjusting your position for maybe the hundredth time. It's no use.
You're bored.  
And that, in itself, is a shocking revelation. You're never bored. Your schedule is usually packed to the brim—between assignments, club meetings, work shifts, and impromptu Save the Puppies campaigns, there's hardly room for boredom. But today?  
Today, life has gifted you a rare stretch of free time. No assignments to finish, no midterms to study for, no dog adoption events or café shifts. And apparently, you have no idea how to handle that.  
You turn to look at Jisoo, who's chilling in her spot on your bed next to you, not having a single ounce of consciousness for you to share your boredom with.  
With another sigh, you grab your phone and scroll aimlessly through your apps. You eventually land in your Photos app and swipe through mindlessly until a recent picture stops you in your tracks.  
It's a selfie Jay took of the two of you, Jisoo sandwiched between your faces. The infamous day of the pizza-night-turned-accidental-nap-turned-godforsaken-poop-incident. You'd submitted the photo to Professor Kim as proof of your co-parenting efforts, but now, looking at it again, you can't help but smile.  
It's strange. The memory should be traumatic—okay, it is traumatic—but in hindsight, it's also...kind of fun. The chaos, the banter, the way Jay somehow managed to make everything feel less overwhelming just by being there.  
Funny enough, that day was also the last time you remember having any sort of free time, and you remember complaining that you had to spend the day with Jay of all people. But now, looking back at it, you honestly did have fun. Being with Jay was...fun.  
Your thumb hovers over the screen for a moment before it unconsciously drifts towards the Phone app. You hesitate, realizing with a jolt that you're one tap away from calling Jay. It's like your brain suddenly shut off and something took over you. What's gotten into you?  
You blink at Jay's contact on your phone, your thumb still hovering over his name.  
No. Bad idea.  
You don't need Jay to entertain you just because you're bored. You're perfectly capable of having fun on your own...obviously. Obviously, even though the last hour of groaning and ceiling-staring suggests otherwise.  
Besides, Jay's probably busy doing...whatever it is Jay does at 4PM on a Saturday. Napping, probably.  
And what would you even say? Let's hang out? Like some middle schooler asking out their crush? Not to mention, you already have your 'Jisoo' plans in two days, so it's not like you have an excuse to see him.  
You sit up abruptly, shaking your head as if to clear the fog of ridiculous thoughts. Seriously, do you even hear yourself right now? Looking for an excuse to see him? Since when did you need excuses for anything, let alone something as absurd as spending more time than necessary with Jay Park?  
This has to be some kind of stress-induced meltdown. It's the only logical explanation. All those late-night study sessions, midterm panic attacks, Jisoo diaper changes, and endless extracurriculars must've finally fried your brain. And now, here you are, teetering on the edge of reason, actually wanting to see Jay Park.  
Great. Now you have a new problem.  
Because as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, the truth is glaringly obvious: you want to see him. And that, more than any amount of free time or boredom, is the real problem. 
You've officially lost it.  
I've officially lost it, you chant in your head as your thumb hovers dangerously close to Jay's name on your screen again.  
I've officially lost it, the words grow louder, taunting you, as you hover over the call button. 
I've officially lost it, your thoughts scream as you give in, pressing down and watching in horror as your screen shifts to Calling Jay Park. 
And now, your heartbeat picks up with every ring. You can't decide what's worse—him answering or him ignoring the call. Maybe if he doesn't pick up, it'll be a sign from above that you're better off leaving this madness alone. Maybe—
"Hello?"  
Your train of thought screeches to a halt.  
"Y/N? Are you there?"  
"I'm here!" You blurt out, your voice jumping two octaves higher than usual. Real smooth, Y/N.  
"Hi...what's up? Are you okay? Is something wrong?" His voice is soft over the phone, a little concerned, like you're about to tell him Jisoo had another diaper emergency.  
You falter for a moment, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written there.
"No! Nothing's wrong! I just—uh–" Quick, think of something normal!
"I was wondering what you're up to."  
"Me?" He sounds genuinely surprised, and you can practically hear the smile in this voice. At least, you think. Or, once again, you've officially lost it. "I'm at the campus gallery, setting up for my photography showcase. It's tonight."  
The campus gallery. His photography.  
You blink, this is news to you. You vaguely remember Jay asking if you could watch Jisoo tonight, and he hadn't given you a reason back then, but this is why he couldn't be on Jisoo duty today. Because of his showcase.  
"Wait, really?" You ask, hoping the interest in your voice doesn't show too much.  
"Yeah. I didn't mention it? Guess I forgot," he chuckles lightly. "It's not a big deal, just a student showcase. I'm just setting up now, making sure my pieces are hung straight and stuff."  
You swallow, a sudden wave of curiosity washing over you. You find yourself smiling to yourself, feeling a wave of endearment wash over you for some reason. The idea of Jay being completely focused and serious about a passion of his is...it's nice. It’s hard to reconcile the carefree, sarcastic guy you know with the thoughtful perspective he must have to capture the kinds of photos he does. 
"You should come by," he says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but you think you catch a small, hopeful note in it. "If you're free, I mean. No pressure."  
You hesitate, your mind racing. Go? Don't go? It's just a showcase. It's not like it means anything. Right?  
"I'll think about it," you manage, trying to sound nonchalant.  
"Cool." There's a smile in his voice again. "Let me know. I'll save you a front-row seat."  
"Front row seat? For a gallery?" You deadpan, rolling your eyes as if he can see if over the phone.  
"Hey, I'm just being a good host."  
"Hmmm," you smile to yourself again. "Maybe. We'll see."  
But your decision was made the second he suggested that you should come. 
It doesn't mean anything. Friends come support each other all the time, right? Wait—
Are you and Jay even friends? You shake your head, trying to dismiss the warmth starting to spread in your chest.  
It's just photography.
It's just Jay.
Nothing to overthink here.  
✭・.・✫
“Okay, Jisoo, in and out,” you whisper to the robot baby in the carrier that's perched in your arms as you stand frozen outside the campus gallery doors. "We're just stopping by to say hi. Two minutes max. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Nothing dramatic."  
Jisoo stares back at you, wide-eyed and unhelpfully silent, which you take as strong moral support.
"Thanks, Jisoo," you mutter, like a lunatic seeking validation from a robot.  
Maybe you shouldn't even go in. It's basically the end of the event anyway—what are the odds he'd even notice you didn't show?
Slim. Probably. Right?  
It's not like you didn't have a valid excuse for your lateness. You did have to change Jisoo’s diaper before you left, and that was a whole thing. But let's be real. 
The real delay?
The real delay was you standing in front of your closet for a solid half hour like a contestant on America's Next Top Existential Crisis. What do you even wear to casually drop by someone's photography showcase? Something that says, Hey, I'm effortlessly supportive, but I totally don't care if you notice me (yes I do).  
Spoiler alert: that outfit does not exist.  
And then—because clearly, you love to torture yourself—you spent another thirty minutes pacing around your room trying to figure out why you cared so much in the first place.  
It's Jay. Jay. The guy who thought sticking googly eyes on Jisoo's bottle would make her drink faster. Why are you stressed? Why are your palms sweaty?  
But despite all that, you somehow made it here, standing outside the gallery with your stomach doing flips like you're about to walk into your own trial. You made it all the way here, so might as well go in, right?  
You swallow hard, adjust your grip on your emotional support robot baby, and push the door open. 
And there he is.  
Center stage, right where he belongs—or at least where he seems to thrive. Standing in front of a massive wall of his framed photographs, the studio lights catch his profile just right. It's almost unfair, like he's been personally photoshopped by the gods themselves. He's surrounded by a small crowd, gesturing animatedly with his hands as he speaks, his smile so bright you're convinced it's starting to hurt your eyes.  
But his eyes? There's this sparkle in them. Not the usual playful glint you've grown used to, but something deeper, softer. You've never seen him look so alive, so utterly in his element, and it's doing weird things to your chest. 
You can't help but wonder—what does it feel like to make him look that happy? Not that it matters, obviously.
It's just a thought.
A completely useless, irrelevant, go-away-right-now kind of thought.  
If you weren't busy trying not to trip over your own feet and accidentally drop Jisoo, you might have stopped to take it all in. To admire the way he looks standing there, talking about something he clearly loves, like he's found this magical pocket of the universe where nothing else matters. Might have.  
But instead, your thoughts screech in a halt, jolting you out of your daydream.  
Abort mission. This was a terrible idea.  
Why did you come here? Why is your face hot? Can Jisoo smell fear?  
Before you can think of a single coherent reason to not turn around and bolt, Jay glances up. And he spots you.  
His eyes light up even more—if that's even physically possible. "Y/N?" He calls out, grinning widely.  
Great. Now you're here. He's happy to see you. You're standing in the middle of his gallery with a robot baby that can most definitely smell your fear.  
Fantastic. Just fantastic.  
Jay's voice cuts through your existential spiral, "Y/N!" He's waving you over as he calls out your name again, like you're a long-lost friend who's just returned from war. 
Well, to be fair, you are fighting a war—against your own dumb feelings.  
"Hey!" You croak, trying to sound casual but ending up somewhere between a dog's favorite squeaky toy and a rusty car horn. You internally flinch at your own voice.  
"Wow, you came," he says, his sweet smile still on display as you shuffle over to where he's standing. "And you brought Jisoo! My biggest fan."
He reaches out to cup Jisoo's cheeks, and you almost smack yourself in the head for feeling jealous over your own robot baby.  
"Yeah, well," you start, trying to sound nonchalant. "I figured, you know, project partners should support each other...teamwork and all that."  
Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly trying to stifle a laugh, "Right. Teamwork. Totally."  
You shift your weight from one leg to another, awkwardly looking up, eventually landing your eyes on the wall behind him, scanning the photos on display. Each photo is so him—a little chaotic, a little bold, but somehow...strikingly beautiful. There's a photo of a rainy city street, the light catching every droplet; a close-up of a sunflower against a brilliant sky; a candid of a kid laughing, his face tilted up toward the sun.  
You suddenly feel a weird, warm pull in your chest. It’s one thing to see Jay cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments during late-night baby meltdowns. But this? This is a side of him you’ve never seen before—one that’s thoughtful, intentional, passionate. 
You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until Jay speaks up, his voice softer now. “Do you like them?” 
You blink, startled, and then nod a little too quickly. You hope he doesn't notice (he does).  
"Yeah. I mean...these are really good, Jay. You're–" you cut yourself off, realizing you're about to say something embarrassing.
''–talented," you finish lamely.  
"Thanks," Jay tilts his head, looking almost shy. "That means a lot, actually."  
His voice is so genuine that it throws you off. You weren't prepared for this level of sincerity. It makes your stomach flip in a way that's both exciting and mildly terrifying.  
Jay gestures toward the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets like he's trying not to fidget.
"I wasn't sure if this was your kind of thing, thought you'd be busy and stuff, but I'm glad you came. I, uh..," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, "I was kind of hoping you would."  
Oh.  
Oh?  
OH.  
Your brain immediately short-circuits. He hoped you'd come? Like...in a we're-in-this-together-as-project-partners way, or in a please-let-this-mean-something-more-than-project-partners way? Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? Should you call someone? Should you call him? No, wait, you're already talking to him—focus! 
You clear your throat and try to channel every ounce of chill you simply do not possess.
"Well," you say, attempting to keep your voice steady and failing miserably, "I'm here."  
It comes out barely louder than a whisper, and you immediately regret every life decision that's led you to this moment. But then Jay smiles—soft, something smaller, more private—and it's like the world shifts slightly off its axis.  
"Yeah," he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that makes you forget how to breathe. "You are."  
And just like that, the noise of the environment dissolves, and the rest of the world shrinks to nothing but the space between you and him. The moment feels impossibly big like it might swallow you whole, and yet so small it could shatter with the slightest breath.  
You're pretty sure you're about to combust. Explode. Turn into a human firework fueled entirely by sheer tension and whatever it is that's happening right now. God, why does he have to look at you like that? Like you're not standing here internally unraveling?  
You break eye contact to glance down at Jisoo, and you're positive she's giving you a look that screams, Stop being weird, you two.  
"Anyway!" You blurt out, desperate to break the tension.
"Which one's your favorite?" You gesture to the photos, your eyes darting anywhere but his own. 
He laughs, and the sound is warm and unguarded, "C'mon, I'll show you."  
He grabs your free hand without thinking, tugging you toward the far end of the wall. And just like that, you're helplessly following him, heart racing again, wondering how the hell you got here—and why you never want to leave.  
So much for in and out.  
Jay pulls you towards the far end of the gallery, his hand wrapped around yours like it's the most natural thing in the world.  
It's not.  
Your brain is in full-blown meltdown mode. Red alerts, sirens blaring, a voice screaming, "WE'RE HOLDING HANDS, PEOPLE!"  
But there's no way you're about to let him see how much this is affecting you, so you shove the chaos down, pretending like your hand isn't currently experiencing the touch equivalent of fireworks...and hoping that it isn't sweaty.  
"This one," Jay says, stopping in front of a photo that's somehow both ordinary and magical. It's a simple shot of your campus football field, taken from the bleacher stands. You've stood in those very bleachers too many times to count—for school events, games, the occasional half-hearted attempt to pretend you like sports. But somehow, in this shot, the field looks...different.  
The grass glows like it's soaked in liquid gold under a sky caught between dusk and twilight. The field is empty, yet it doesn't feel lonely. There's something about it that Jay managed to capture—like it holds a thousand stories and secrets, quietly hopeful in its stillness.  
"It's beautiful," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can catch them. 
"Yeah," Jay lets out a breath. "It's my favorite spot on campus. I go there a lot when I need to think or just...get away a bit."  
You glance at him, startled at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Jay never strikes you as someone who gets lost in his head; he always seemed too confident, too effortlessly sure of himself. But right now, he's not looking at you—he's staring at the photo, like he's seeing something beyond it.  
"I took it on one of those days—I was just overthinking a lot about life. About who I am, I guess," he continues. "I didn't think it'd turn out good or anything, but...I don't know. It felt right."  
Your chest tightens. There's something so raw in the way he's speaking, like he's letting you see a side of him he usually keeps hidden. It makes you wonder how many other layers Jay Park has, and why it feels so important to uncover them all.  
The silence between you stretches as you watch Jay continue to study his own photograph. There's a softness in his gaze, a quiet vulnerability that makes you feel like you're seeing him a way few people ever do.  
But then he blinks, breaking the moment, and suddenly he's looking at you. You stiffen, panic bubbling up at the possibility that he might've noticed you staring at him.  
"Sorry," he says, his voice carrying a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's really cheesy and stupid."  
You find yourself shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence.
"No! Not at all, really," you blurt out, the words stumbling over themselves in their rush to escape. You feel the heat creeping up your neck, mortified at your sudden intensity.  
Jay raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn't say anything, so you clear your throat and try again, softer this time, "I mean it. You have a good eye, Jay."
You mean it more than you've meant anything in a while, and you hope he knows that.  
For a second, he just looks at you, like he's taking note of something, his head tilted ever so slightly. And then, slowly, his lips curve into that small, genuine smile that makes your chest feel annoyingly warm.
"Thanks, Y/N."  
Your heart does a little somersault. Oh great. There it goes again.  
And as if Jisoo can sense the moment might be getting too serious, she lets out a cry. You stumble back, jump scared enough by the loud and sudden sound, and Jay reacts instantly, steadying you with his hands on your shoulders.  
"You okay?" He asks, his face so close that you can now confirm there are literal, actual flecks of gold in his eyes. Of course there are.  
You blink. I've officially lost it. Completely, utterly, hopelessly, lost it.  
You nod, your voice stuck in your throat. Am I okay? No. No, you are not okay. You are decidedly not okay.  
Jay clears his throat, stepping back—though his hands linger a beat longer than they probably need to, but still a second too short than you should probably want to. 
You want to scream into the void.  
"Looks like it's time for Jisoo's dinner," he says lightly with a small chuckle. 
You fumble for words, your brain still offline.
"Uh—yeah. I left her bottle at my place, and I should probably get going anyways," you manage, your voice a little too breathless for comfort.  
Jay glances at his watch, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, something hopeful flicking in his eyes.
"I'm pretty much done here," he says, tilting his head towards the door. "It's late. Let me walk you home."  
You hesitate, torn between insisting you're perfectly fine on your own (you're not) and letting him (you want to). But the way he's looking at you—like it's no big deal, like he simply wants to—makes the decision for you.  
"Okay," you say, quieter than you mean to, and before you can second-guess yourself, Jay's already taking Jisoo's carrier from your arms, effortlessly shifting it onto his own.  
"Let's go," he says, flashing you a small smile that feels like a punch to your stomach in the best way possible.  
And just like that, you're walking side by side into the cool night air, your breaths visible in the chill, easily falling into a comfortable rhythm as you walk through the quiet campus, the streetlights above casting long shadows ahead of you. 
There’s something easy about walking with him like this. It shouldn’t feel this natural—your heart’s doing somersaults and pirouettes like it’s auditioning for a circus—but it does. You steal a glance at him, and he’s focused on the path ahead, his profile calm and soft in the glow of the lights. 
"So," Jay breaks the quiet as he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, "Can you believe the project's almost over?"  
You let out a small laugh, tilting your head, "Honestly, no. Feels like just yesterday I was praying you'd drop the class."  
Jay laughs, a sound that seems to echo in the quiet environment.
"Wow, Y/N. I thought we were bonding."  
"We were," you tease, turning to him with a barely concealed smirk. "I just also thought you were going to be a disaster of a partner."  
He scoffs, giving you a mock-offended look, "I proved you wrong, right? I was amazing since day one."  
"You handed Jisoo to me like she was a bomb, Jay," you remind him, unable to stop yourself from laughing.  
"I was assessing the danger!" Jay protests, his grin widening. "And excuse me, I've stepped up. I've made bottles, I've cleaned her, I even know how to put on a diaper the right side up!"  
"Jay, the fact that you had to learn which way was right side up is concerning in itself," you manage to let out with a giggle. 
"Details, details," he waves a dismissive hand. "Point is, I'm practically father of the year."  
You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. A sharp breeze suddenly hits the both of you, and you visibly shiver from the lack of warmth your outfit provides. All that time choosing an outfit, and you still couldn't pick a weather-appropriate one. Stellar, Y/N.  
And of course, Jay notices immediately. Before you can so much as form a protest, he's shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders, your body immediately stiffening as his hands brush against you lightly in the process.  
You open your mouth to say something—anything, even just a whispered thank you—but Jay beats you to it, sparing you the effort of finding actual, coherent words. 
“So,” he says casually, like he hasn’t just sent your brain spiraling, “what do you think you’ll do when it’s over?”
"Uh," you blink, still needing a second to reorient yourself. "Sleep, for once."  
Jay laughs again. "Fair. You deserve it. But you'll miss me, right?"  
"Not even for a second," you deadpan without hesitation.  
"Liar," he teases, bumping your shoulder lightly.  
You reach your building all too soon, the doors looming in front of you like an unwelcome reminder that this walk, this moment, is about to end. You stop just before the steps and turn to face him, rocking on your heels.  
"Okay, maybe a little," you admit, shrugging. "But only because you make me look like the competent one by comparison."  
"Wow," Jay shakes his head, but there it is again. The smile—the small, amused one that makes his eyes crinkle just enough to be unfairly attractive. 
You glance up at him, wishing the walk had been just a few blocks longer. Or a few miles.  
"Well," you say finally, forcing your gaze away from his own. "Thanks for walking me. And for carrying Jisoo." 
You reach for Jisoo's carrier, and Jay hands it over without hesitation, but not before shrugging like it's no big deal.
"No problem," he says. Then, as you're adjusting the carrier on your arm, he adds, "And thanks again, Y/N. For coming tonight. It really meant a lot."  
Your heart does that stupid fluttery thing again it's been doing all night, and you're starting to think you need a medical consultation.  
"Yeah, well," you clear your throat. "Partner support, you know?" You sound dumb, Y/N. Dumb.  
Jay smirks, but there's something gentler in his expression now, a flicker of something you can't quite name. 
"Goodnight, Y/N. And goodnight, Jisoo," he says, giving a small wave to the baby carrier, making you giggle slightly.  
He takes a few steps back, his hands slipping into his pockets, and gives you one last smile before turning to walk away. But before he gets too far, something bursts out of you, unwarned.  
"Jay!"  
He stops, turning on his heels, his brows lifting in surprise. "Yeah?"  
You step forward, closing a bit of the distance between you, suddenly hyper-aware of how your voice wavers.
"Um, I was wrong. You're...not all that bad." Why am I doing this? "I'm sorry if I've been...you know, intense. These past few years."  
Jay blinks at you, his surprise turning into something softer. You take a deep breath, pushing through the self-inflicted awkwardness. 
"You've been a really good partner," you add, offering a small, genuinely smile. "And well...you're pretty cool."  
His studies your face for a moment, the look longing and careful, like he's piecing together something fragile. A faint smile tugs at his lips, and there's a warmth in his expression that sends heat rushing to your cheeks.   
For a moment, the two of you just stand here, caught in the glow of the streetlamp. The world around you feels distant, like someone's hit the mute button on everything but the sound of your heartbeat.  
Jay's smile widens ever so slightly, and he nods, his voice quiet but firm, "I'll see you around, Y/N."  
He takes a few steps backward, his gaze holding yours until he finally turns and starts walking away. You watch him disappear into the night, the outline of his figure fading with the streetlights, and only then do you realize you've been holding your breath.  
As you step into your building and climb the stairs to your apartment, the night replays in your head on a loop—his laugh, his smile, his everything.  
When you finally reach your door, you lean against it for a moment, his large jacket still wrapped around you. Your thoughts crash into you all at once, and two things become alarmingly clear:  
You are completely, utterly, hopelessly in like with Jay Park.  
You're in so much trouble.  
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“Congratulations, everyone!” Professor Kim clasps her hands together at the front of the classroom, a wide smile on her face. “You’ve survived six weeks of parenting. Hopefully, you’ve learned something useful—and that it hasn’t scared you off from actual parenthood one day. Each baby had a monitor tracking its status, so I’ll be extracting that data, combining it with your progress reports, and factoring it into your grade.” 
Jay leans toward you from his seat next to you, his breath warm against your ear.
“That’s a little creepy…she’s going to take Jisoo apart? The poor thing.” His smirk is half-guilty, half-amused, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from laughing out loud. 
This is new. Six weeks ago, he was Mr. Front-Row Enthusiast, and sometime between then and now, you’ve somehow managed to convert him into your next-row-back partner. He’d grumbled at first when you insisted about your theory that the front row screamed try-hard, but since then, he doesn’t even glance at the seats up front anymore. 
“Grades will be out soon! I’ll see you all next week,” Professor Kim announces. “And don’t forget to submit your reflection posts!” 
The shuffle of bags and jackets fills the room as students thank her on their way out. Slowly, the lecture hall empties, until it’s just you and Jay lingering at your seats. 
“Well,” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stand. “That’s it. No more parenting lessons for us.” 
Jay heaves a dramatic sigh, his lips pulling into a pout that’s far too endearing for your peace of mind, “I can’t believe it. I already miss Jisoo.” 
You chuckle lightly but feel an odd tug in your chest, “Right? I got so used to carrying her and her baby bag everywhere. It’s weird not having her around.” 
And it is weird. You never thought you’d feel this way about a glorified hunk of plastic and wires, but now, without Jisoo, something feels…off.  
Or maybe it’s not just Jisoo. Maybe it’s the fact that this project, unexpectedly enough, turned into an excuse—a reason to spend so much time with Jay. Now that it’s over, what happens next? 
The thought hangs between you as the two of you head out of the building. The campus is alive with the hum of students, the energy buzzing around you as everyone heads to their afternoon classes. You both stop outside, standing awkwardly side by side as the silence stretches. 
No more 'Jisoo days' to plan for. No more excuses to text. No more shared tasks or inside jokes. 
Will he go back to his front-row seat, forgetting these last few weeks? Or will he—will you—pretend none of this ever happened? 
Jay shifts beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicker to yours, then away again, as if he’s waiting for you to say something first. 
“Well,” you finally say, breaking the quiet because it’s just too heavy to bear. “I have to head to my next class.” 
“Right. Yeah,” Jay says quickly, too quickly, his hands both fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. “Makes sense.” 
He hesitates, his mouth opening like he’s about to add something, but then he stops. You notice the way he’s looking at you, like there’s a thousand things he wants to say but can’t figure out how to start. You feel that familiar heat creep up your neck, the same one you tend to get whenever you’re around him nowadays.  
“Alright,” you finally say, shifting on your feet. “See you around, then?” 
Jay’s lips turn up in a small, almost longing, smile, “Yeah. See you.” 
He doesn’t move, though. Neither do you. It’s like both of you are waiting for the other to take a step away first, and the pause grows longer and longer until you can practically hear the universe screaming at you to just go already. It’s getting unbearably uncomfortable for all of us, Y/N.  
And when you finally start to turn, before you can even take three steps, his voice stops you. 
“Hey.” 
You glance back over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 
Jay scratches the back of his neck, looking like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle.
“Uh, you were also a really good partner. You know, with Jisoo. I mean, you were kinda terrifying at first with all your color-coded schedules and spreadsheets, but…” 
His smile softens, and his voice drops a little, “You were great. Really. I think I learned a thing or two from you.”  
Your stomach flips in a way that’s both infuriating and addictive. 
“Thanks,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your brain is short-circuiting. “Means a lot from someone who had to Google which way a diaper goes.”  
He laughs, the sound bright and warm in the cool air, “Okay, one time, Y/N. Let it go.” 
“Nope.” You grin, turning fully toward him now, your nerves settling under the familiarity of teasing. “You’ll never live it down. It’s my parting gift to you.” 
Jay presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt, “Wow. I pour my heart out, and this is what I get in return?” 
“Exactly.” 
He chuckles again, shaking his head before finally stepping back, breaking the invisible bubble that’s been holding you both in place.
“Alright. I’ll see you, Y/N.” 
“Bye, Jay,” you say, forcing yourself to turn and start walking away.  
You make it a few steps before you hear his voice a second time, softer this time, almost hesitant. 
“Y/N.” 
You glance back, your heart skipping a beat. 
Jay looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curve into a small, lopsided smile.
“Text me when you get home later tonight, okay? After your day is done.”  
You blink, caught off guard.
“What?” 
“Just…so I know you got there safe,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But the way his voice dips at the end betrays him. 
Your chest tightens in a way that officially feels dangerous. But you know you never want to get enough of this feeling.   
“Okay,” you manage to say, the word quieter than you meant, but it was the most you could muster up with the bubble stuck in your throat.  
Jay nods, his smile widening just a little.
“Good.” 
And this time, when you turn away, you can’t stop the smile that sneaks onto your face. 
✭・.・✫
By the time you get home, it’s late, and the apartment is quiet. Esther is nowhere to be found—probably out with Heeseung or at the library pretending to study. You toe off your shoes and drop your bag by the door, the routine feeling strangely empty without Jisoo’s carrier on your arm and her baby bag strapped to the other.  
With a sigh, you find your way to your room and collapse onto your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. Jay’s parting words have been echoing in your head all day, barely letting you focus during the rest of your classes—“Text me when you get home.” 
You hover over your messages for a second longer than necessary, typing and deleting a draft once, then twice, then a third time, before finally hitting send: 
Y/N [8:52PM]: home safe 👍 
You stare at the screen for exactly three seconds before flinging your phone across your bed. You roll over, face buried in your pillow, half hoping he doesn’t reply so you don’t have to overanalyze the significance of a thumbs-up emoji. 
But, of course, your phone buzzes almost instantly. 
Jay [8:53PM]: good 👍 sleep well. 
A small, ridiculous smile tugs at your lips. You really shouldn’t be this giddy over such a mundane exchange, over a thumbs up emoji, but somehow, here you are. 
And that’s when you start going insane. You shoot up from your spot in bed.  
Why did he tell you to text him? Does he say that to everyone? Or was it just…you? And why does he keep looking at you like that? You’ve never been the kind of person to spiral like this, but lately, everything about Jay has you unraveling in ways you don’t know how to handle.
Clearly.  
You groan, flailing your arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“Get it together, Y/N,” you mutter to yourself, but it’s no use. Every little interaction from the past six weeks replays in your head on a loop—his laughter, his stupid jokes, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp buzz from your phone. You glance over, half expecting a random notification (the other half hoping Jay double texted you) but instead, it’s the one you’ve been waiting for without realizing it: 
Professor Kim: Final grades are posted! 
Your heart leaps. Practically fumbling with your phone, you open the grading portal, scanning the page with a held breath. And there it is, staring back at you in bold letters: 
Semester Project Grade: 100% 
“YES!” you exclaim, punching the air like a successful cartoon character. You’re grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, practically bouncing in bed. It’s the kind of happiness that makes you feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t share it with someone. 
And there’s only one person you want to share it with. 
Before you know what you’re doing, your closet doors are wide open, your hands rifling through. Your hands land on his jacket—the one he lent you after the showcase—and something about it feels right. You shrug it on, ignoring the way it smells faintly like him (and comfort), and grab your keys without a second thought. 
By the time you realize what you’re doing, you’re already halfway to Jay’s apartment. It’s not like you had a plan—just this overwhelming need to see him.  
Because somehow, he’s become the first person you want to share everything with, want to experience every moment with, want to feel every feeling with, and that thought is both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  
But you’ve never been so sure of anything else before.  
Your breath hitches as you reach his familiar door, hand raised to knock. You hesitate for a moment, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this is. Who shows up at someone’s place at this hour, unannounced, just to tell them about a grade? What if he already saw it and didn’t even think twice? You look insane, Y/N. Insane.  
But then you think about the way he looked at you earlier, the way he smiled when he said “good job.” 
And you knock.  
✭・.・✫
Jay doesn’t know what’s happening. One second, he’s on his couch editing photos, and the next, someone’s trying to break down his door. At least, that’s what it sounds like. The pounding is so aggressive it makes his mug of tea tremble slightly on the table. 
Heart racing, Jay tosses his laptop aside and scans the room for a weapon. Nothing. Great. In a flash of panic, he grabs the TV remote because, sure, it’s sleek, ergonomic, and maybe intimidating in the right light. 
Bracing himself for certain doom, he yanks the door open— 
“Oh.” 
It’s you. 
At his doorstep. 
Unannounced. 
In his jacket. 
Jay flatlines. All he can do is stare at you in the oversized jacket—his oversized jacket—looking like you walked straight out of one of his dream scenarios. The rational part of him is trying to keep it together, but the feral part of his brain is screaming She’s in my clothes. Marriage now. 
You tilt your head, studying his expression.
“Jay? Are you…okay?” 
He blinks, realizing he’s been standing there for a good five seconds with his mouth slightly open.  
“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Uh—what’s up?” 
“Well first, why are you wielding a TV remote like it’s a sword?” 
Jay glances down at the remote in his hand, then back at you.
“…I thought you were a robber.” 
“A robber?” you repeat, struggling not to laugh. “What kind of robber knocks?” 
“I don’t know, maybe a polite one!” 
You let out a giggle and shrug, “Fair enough. But anyway, I’m here because—did you see?” 
“See what?” He frowns, confused, and still recovering from his adrenaline rush. 
“Professor Kim posted our grades! We got a 100%!” 
Jay stares at you for a second before the words sink in.
“Wait—what? We got a hundred?” 
“Yes!” You’re practically bouncing, a bright smile lighting up your face. “A perfect score, Jay!” 
He laughs and steps forward, grabbing your shoulders in his hands.
“No way. We actually did it?!” 
“We did it!” You beam back, jumping up and down. “We crushed it!” 
Jay’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, but he doesn’t care. There’s something about seeing you this happy, standing in his doorway like a whirlwind of energy, that makes his chest feel way too full, too complete.  
And for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, caught up in the moment, smiling at each other like idiots. 
When the excitement dies down, Jay notices the way you’re still slightly breathless, like you’d run all the way here.  
“Wait,” he squints. “You could’ve just texted me, you know.” 
“Oh,” you shift your weight, suddenly looking a little shy. “Yeah. But I just…wanted to see you.” 
Jay blinks. His brain is once again malfunctioning.  
“Oh.”  
Oh? 
OH.  
“Yeah. So…here I am,” you add, failing miserably to conceal the wobble in your voice.  
“Here you are,” he repeats, his voice back to that soft tone that knows how to make your heart go into overdrive.  
His eyes flicker to yours and stay there as the air between you suddenly feels heavier. Charged. 
“Is that all?” Jay asks, his lips twitching into a teasing smile. 
“Uh,” you clear your throat, looking anywhere but at him. “I guess.” 
Jay leans against the doorframe, studying you with that stupidly charming smirk of his, “Well, then.” 
“Well, then,” you echo, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever encountered (spoiler: it’s not. That would be Jay’s face. But we’re not admitting that just yet). 
Neither of you moves. Not even a millimeter. The silence stretches so long that you’re pretty sure somewhere in the world, a Netflix show just autoplayed its next episode. 
Then, suddenly, Jay watches as your face cycles through the emotional Olympics: panic, resolve, regret, and whatever it is that makes your eyebrows do that cute scrunch thing he secretly loves. 
“I should go,” you say, finally breaking the silence, your voice quieter now. “Sorry for barging in like this.” 
You look down at your feet, hands still mindlessly playing with the sleeve of his jacket. Jay’s stomach twists at the sight—at the quiet, unsure way you’re suddenly retreating.  
No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t know where his bravery is coming from (he suspects it’s sheer desperation), but he refuses to let you leave like this. 
Before you can fully turn away, Jay reaches out and gently grabs your sleeve, tugging you back like you’re his favorite person in the world—which, spoiler again, you totally are. 
“Wait,” he says, pulling you close enough that you bump into his chest. Both his hands find their way to your waist, steadying you with an ease that feels practiced. Like it’s where his hands were always meant to be. 
And that's when Jay knows for sure: he likes you. He likes you bad. Painful highlighters, confusing spreadsheets, and all. He likes the way you carry your stubbornness like a badge of honor. He likes the way you chew on your pen when you're deep in thought. The way you turn his every sarcastic comment into a competition he's somehow thrilled to lose.  
“You forgot something,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low as his eyes search yours, then your lips, then your entire face.  
Your heart stumbles, your brain short-circuits, and you’re pretty sure your face is now the color of a stop sign. 
“Oh, uh, the jacket?” you stammer, looking down at where he grabbed your sleeve, grasping for any logical explanation. “You’re right. Sorry, I almost—” 
But before you can finish, Jay does something both incredibly bold and incredibly reckless. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. 
For a moment, you freeze. This isn’t real. Is this an alternate universe where Jay kisses you instead of just driving you insane? 
But then, the realization sinks in—Jay is kissing you. Like, actually kissing you. And wow. 
The first touch of his lips sends a rush through your entire body, like every nerve has suddenly woken up all at once. He’s hesitant at first, almost like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when you finally let go of all the confusion, overthinking, and denial—you lean into him, your hands both instinctively reaching up, gripping the fabric of his shirt to ground yourself as you kiss him back, now realizing how much you desperately wanted this.  
And that’s all the encouragement Jay needs.  
His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his fingers brushing the hem of the jacket you’re wearing—his jacket, you remember with a strange, fluttering thrill. The kiss deepens, gentle but insistent, a slow, breathtaking unraveling of all the tension that’s been simmering between you for weeks. 
It’s like the air shifts around you, the space between you collapsing into nothing. You feel his breath, warm against your skin, and the faintest hitch in it when your hand moves up to lightly curl against the back of his neck. 
He’s so close, and everything about this moment feels right—his familiar scent, the steady warmth of his hands on your waist, the way he tilts his head slightly to meet yours like he’s memorizing the shape of you. 
Your heart pounds, the world spinning just a little too fast and too slow all at once. It’s electric, and dizzying, and somehow everything and nothing like you imagined (because, yes, you’ve imagined it—so what?). 
Jay pulls back just slightly, his forehead brushing yours as he grins, his voice a playful mumble against your lips, not wanting to break the kiss, “You can keep the jacket.” 
Your laugh bubbles out before you can stop it, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as you clutch at his arms for balance.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” 
“I’m a multi-tasker,” he replies, deadpan, his lips turning into a teasing smirk as he leans in and steals another quick kiss. He starts to pull back again, but you don't let him—your hand catches his sleeve as you dart up and chase his lips for one more peck, light and fleeting, but enough to make him smile like a fool.
You're completely, utterly, hopelessly obsessed with him.  
"Besides," he adds, the words smug as his arms tighten around you, "I've already sacrificed my jacket. Might as well give up my dignity too."  
You roll your eyes, “You’re still an idiot.” 
“And yet, I’m the idiot you kissed back,” Jay fires back, brushing a strand of hair from your face.  
You shake your head, your voice soft and teasing, “You’re so—” 
The words trail off as you meet his gaze again, and before you can even think about stopping yourself, you tilt your head up, close the remaining distance between you, and kiss him first this time.  
Jay freezes for a second, caught off guard, before he fully melts into the kiss again, one hand instinctively curling around your waist to keep you as close as possible. There's no hesitation now, no teasing, no holding back—just the two of you in the quiet of his doorway, and the overwhelming certainty that neither of you wants to let this—this moment, this feeling—to end. 
When you finally pull back, Jay’s eyes are sparkling, his gaze holding an undeniable warmth. 
“You know,” he starts, voice light but tinged with something deeper, “if you keep doing that, I might start thinking you actually like me or something.” 
You raise an eyebrow, leaning in just close enough to make him squirm, your smirk playful. 
“And if you keep talking,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing, “I might change my mind.” 
Jay blinks, momentarily stunned, before letting out a breathless laugh, his arms instinctively circling your waist again, pulling you just a little closer.
“Noted. Say less. I’ll shut up forever. You’re stuck with me now.” 
Stuck with Jay? As in a more-than-project-partners kind of way? 
Yeah, you think, meeting the smile he’s giving you. 
You don’t mind that idea one bit. 
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Now that the six weeks of parenthood is over, we ask that you write a reflection post in response to your pre-questionnaire answers we asked you at the beginning of the project. Were your expectations met? Exceeded? Any surprises along the way?
Y/N’s Submission [11:15AM, October 30th]:
Parenting, even with a robot baby, turned out to be nothing like I expected. I’ve learned that no matter how much you plan, babies (and life) have a way of completely ignoring your carefully crafted schedules. It was frustrating at times, but it also made things…unexpectedly fun.
Speaking of unexpected—let’s just say my partnership for this project caught me completely off guard, in the best way possible. Turns out, some surprises are worth breaking the plan for :)
Jay’s Submission [11:30AM, October 30th]:
Honestly? I expected surprises, but I wasn’t ready to lose three years of my life over a diaper change—or nearly go deaf from tantrums. Safe to say, I learned the hard way that being a little prepared isn’t such a bad idea.
But here’s the thing: turns out, babies (and certain project partners) have a way of growing on you. Who knew spreadsheets and sleepless nights could actually be…kinda great? I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes the best things aren’t planned. And also, I know how to change a diaper in 30 seconds now. The right side up :)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
the end! let me know what you think °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°
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ririkookiemonster · 3 months ago
Text
no textbooks here — JJK
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Summary: being a model in the art class was common for you, but this time, you gave a chance to be the female model in biology class. it was for educational purposes anyway, how far could it go?
Pairing: male model jungkook x female model oc
Genre: Smut
Warnings: human sexuality/ biology class au, university au, voyeurism, unprotected sex (DO NOTTT unless you wanna be a mama) public sex, sex ed au, nipple stimulation, cock stimulation, kissing, multiple orgasm f, missionary, riding, cumming inside, no use of contraceptives specified, shy jk at first, they both are so cute at the end.
Word count: 5k+
Writer: riri🪵
Writer’s note: omg its finally here! i was thinking to write smth ab this ever since i read a voyeurism smut ab sex ed and i hadddd to write one. i love how cute jk is. i love the scenes where they well… get passionate. too cute ahhh. lemme know if you liked it. to be added in the taglist, fill the google form given below or leave a comment!
MASTERLIST
🖇️click here to be added in the taglist🖇️
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You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before nervously pushing open the classroom door. The soft creak of the hinges seemed louder in the stillness, amplifying your unease. As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately scanned the room. It was as you expected—empty, save for one person seated at the front: Mr. Jung, the lecturer you had been told about. His presence was commanding but gentle, his smile warm and welcoming, like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise dreary day.
“Come in, come in!” he called out with a bright tone, his gaze locking onto you as you hovered awkwardly in the doorway. His voice had a way of cutting through the silence, easing some of the tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying. You stepped forward, your footsteps quiet but deliberate as you made your way to his desk, each step a small victory over your nerves.
“It’s great to meet you,” Mr. Jung said with a friendly nod, his voice smooth and calm. His smile lingered, putting you at ease, if only slightly. He pushed a sheet of paper across the desk in your direction, his movements unhurried. “I just need you to fill out this liability waiver.”
The words were said so casually, but the simple task still felt like a small hurdle. You stood across from him, fingers lightly brushing the paper as you picked it up, your heart still racing just a bit, though his calm demeanor had begun to settle the unease that had gripped you since you walked in.
“Just the standard agreement,” Mr. Jung continued with a calm, practiced tone. “You’ll be paid at the end of the class. And... you’re aware that this is a practical demonstration, meaning you’ll be fully naked?”
“Yes... Of c-course,” you stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly. You reached for a pen from the stand, trying to ignore the sudden wave of nervousness. Your eyes skimmed over the document—standard terms, conditions, rules, payment details, and all that. You’d done this sort of thing before for life drawing classes in the art department, so the nudity didn’t bother you as much as it used to. Still, this was the biology department, and that made it feel... different. Without much thought, you roughly scribbled ‘Y/N’ at the bottom of the page, the pen shaking just a little in your hand.
As you set the pen down, your gaze drifted around the room once more, and that’s when you noticed something or rather, someone you hadn’t before. Sitting off to the side, near the blackboard, was a guy you hadn’t seen when you first walked in. He was quiet, almost too still, which explained why he had escaped your attention earlier.
He looked up, and your breath hitched for a moment. His piercings were the first thing you noticed. his lips, eyebrow, and ears all adorned with silver hoops and studs that caught the light. Despite his edgy appearance, his eyes were surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his sharp jawline and the strength in his build. Even beneath the loose, black T-shirt he wore, you could tell he was well-muscled, his broad shoulders and solid frame evident.
Your gaze continued downward, noticing his dark blue jeans tucked into chunky, black combat boots. His medium-length curly hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame his face. Everything about him radiated a kind of effortless cool. And, if you were being honest, this man was HOT.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you realized just how much this guy's presence added to the tension simmering beneath the surface.
He glanced at you for just a fraction of a second, barely acknowledging your presence before averting his gaze, his expression unreadable. It was almost as if he didn’t want to make eye contact. “This is Jungkook, third-year, and the male model for today’s demonstration,” Mr. Jung explained, nodding toward the guy. “Please, take a seat next to him.”
You gave a quick nod and made your way over, sitting down in the chair beside him. Jungkook’s hands rested in his lap, fingers nervously intertwined. It surprised you to see that, beneath his tough, bad-boy exterior, he seemed just as anxious as you were. Sure, he was undeniably attractive—more than that, really. but the way he fidgeted made him look kind of... cute. You couldn't help but wonder how someone who appeared so effortlessly cool could be just as nervous about this as you were.
And then it hit you: you were both about to be naked. Fully.
But, of course, it was purely for educational purposes—nothing more than a biology lesson where the two of you were simply models helping students learn. Still, the thought had your stomach doing somersaults.
You cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension between you two. “Hey…are you nervous?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, trying to break the ice.
Before Jungkook could respond, the door swung open with a loud bang, and a flood of students poured in, filling the once-quiet room with laughter and chatter. You watched as they settled into their individual seats, each equipped with small, built-in desks, their attention mostly focused on their own conversations rather than the two of you.
Whatever nervous conversation you had hoped to start was quickly drowned out by the buzz of the classroom coming to life. You stole another glance at Jungkook, catching him briefly biting his lip before his gaze returned to his lap. It was clear neither of you was prepared for what was about to happen, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on that now.
Once the room settled and Mr. Jung began the lesson, you couldn't help but scan the students seated before you. Their eyes were on you-curious, almost probing. You were relieved that they were all first years, strangers whose names and faces you didn't know. It made things a little easier. Still, a few boys in the crowd kept sneaking glances in your direction, and you swore you caught some of them smirking, making your nerves spike even more.
After about five minutes of introductory remarks, Professor Jung's voice called both you and Jungkook to the front of the room. Your stomach twisted as you slowly stood up, feeling Jungkook rise just behind you. The two of you walked forward in unison, the students' gazes growing heavier with every step.
"Good morning, everyone," Mr. Jung addressed the class. "Meet Y/N Y/L/N and Jeon Jungkook. They'll be the models for today's lesson." His voice carried easily through the room, formal yet calm, as though what was about to happen was routine.
Then he turned to face both of you. "If you could both remove your clothes, please," he said, his tone polite but firm. You felt a sharp wave of mixture of excitement and anxiety rise within you, knowing the moment had finally come. and you two began two began to undress in front of the class.
You always enjoyed the thrill you got from being naked in front of the art classes you had modeled in. You like being a muse. You liked the feeling of all their eyes on your body and you expected this to be no different. You pulled off your white sweater over your head, followed by your tank top. You slowly began to unbutton your baggy jeans and slipped them down to the floor, pulling off each leg in turn until you were just in the simple baby pink underwear you had chosen to wear today.
You glanced next to you, where Jungkook was also down to his Calvin Klein underpants. You glanced over as he pulled them down and almost gasped out loud. His cock, although soft, was massive. You could see its outline from the white underwear he was wearing. It hung down limply between his legs, framed by a thin patch of newly grown hair, as if shaved recently.
You hastily turned your eyes back to the class and unhooked your bra, exposing your firm breasts. Then you removed the final item of your clothing, your panties, slipping them down your knees, revealing your own trimmed bush to the watching eyes. Not gonna lie, you were kinda embarrassed. You could have shaved or waxed. But you were here as a model anyway. You just wanted your paycheck for the day.
Your eyes scanned through the crowd. Some of the students looked embarrassed, red in the face, others looked excited. One boy right at the front was watching both of you with curious eyes, a big grin on his mouth. You and Jungkook stood there, upright and completely naked, as Professor Jung walked back and forth in front of you both, talking about various parts of anatomy and pointing at them by his telescopic pointer.
"Here we see,the female nipples are not yet aroused. The areola are widened and flat and the nipples themselves are not yet hard." Mr Jung explained, the end of the pointer hovering an inch from one of your nipples.
"And below," he continued, moving the pointer to indicate the area between your legs, "Is the Vulva. Not to be confused with the Vagina, of course, which is the interior part we can't see at the moment. In this, as you can see, the subject has chosen only to trim and not remove her pubic hair."
Some of the students nodded, while others just kept gaping at you. You were enjoying them all looking yourself naked, especially the guy in the front with a strange twinkle in his eyes. You felt yourself getting a bit aroused, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
Mr Jung then moved on to Jungkook, pointing out at his much smaller nipples than his penis and testicles. The pointer then moved to his dick and balls, as the professor went on about the anatomy of a male’s cock. It was unusual that he made no mention of the fact that Jungkook’s cock was well…. big.
"Okay," Mr Jung said, striding back in front of you. "Y/N, if you could lie on the desk please? Yes, like that, lift your legs up. Perfect.”
You followed Mr Jung’s instructions and laid on the desk, your feet facing the students. Under his direction, you opened your legs up and put your feet on the desk so that your opening was all on display of the students now. You felt a strange feeling of thrill arising in your chest yet again, but you couldn’t see the reactions of the crowd, as you were looking up at the ceiling.
Soon after, Professor Jung began indicating parts of your vulva with his pointer.
"This outer area here is the labia majora," he explained, the cold metal of the pointer touching your lower petals, making your lips slightly open because of the sensation.
"The vaginal opening, and above the labia minora. This subject has fairly small labia minora but it's not uncommon for them to be much bigger and extend beyond the labia majora." Mr Jung continued, the pointer gently kept touching you, as if almost being teased. You felt yourself getting wet from the sensation and kept praying that it wouldn’t be visible.
"This is the urethral opening where urine is excreted from and also female ejaculate, we'll cover that in week five. And finally, the clitoris, also called the clit. Boys take careful note exactly where that is." He joked as the pointer came to rest on my clit, nestled under its hood. The class tittered dutifully.
"Thank you Y/N, you can stand up again," Mr Jung asked. Once again, You both stood naked and motionless before the class as he continued to drone on about the concept, that was arousal now. Soon again, Mr Jung turned to both of you again.
"Now, remember how we saw that the subject was not showing any signs of arousal…?"
There were a few nods from the class, and Mr Jung smiled. "Jungkook, can you rub or suck Y/N’s nipples please? We need you to stimulate them, and we’ll see what outcome we get from that.”
Jungkook glanced at you nervously, and then made his way to you until he was facing you. He lifted one hand up to your breast and cupped it gently, then very carefully he rubbed your nipple with his thumb. It felt nice and you felt a burst of pleasure rush through you.
"Look!" Professor Jung said, his voice was getting excited. “as we expect, the areola has tightened and contracted and the nipple has hardened as blood has rushed into it..”You were enjoying the stimulation Jungkook was providing you by using your tits as stress balls that you felt your breathing was getting deeper. Thats when you heard Mr Jung’s voice again.
"See how the subject's breathing has also changed. Jungkook, give the other one a suck, see how much you can stimulate it."
Jungkook bent down and took your other sensitive peak into his mouth, his tongue, warm and wet, lapping against your skin as if trying to explore the most of it. He started sucking more effectively, his teeth gently grazing on your nub, making you feel hot and bothered. You let out an involuntary gasp, which seemed to please the professor to heights as he gestured excitedly to the class.
"Okay, that's enough," He said as Jungkook returned to his original position beside you. The professor indicated your saliva glistened nipple with the pointer, and flicked it back and forth with the end, making you gasp again.
"Look, it's very hard and so much larger now. That's the result of the extra stimulation we saw. There are other signs of arousal we can look at on the female in a moment, but first let's have a look at arousal on the male. Is there anyone who can tell me the most obvious signs of arousal in the male of the species?"
There was a slight hesitation evident in the class which was quite expected and understandable. After a few seconds, a girl in the left wearing yellow shirt cautiously put hand up.
"Erection?" she asked, biting her lip in nervousness and embarrassment.
"Exactly!"Mr Jung chirped. "Increased heart rate, change in breathing, even hardened nipples are some signs when a male is sexually aroused, but the most obvious sign will be the enlargement in penis size as the blood rushes through the Male genitalia, also called erection."
Mr Jung turned back to you, "Y/N, can you get on your knees and stimulate Jungkook’s penis with your mouth please?”
You almost got a heart attack as you heard that. Yes, you were here just for a biology lesson but the thought of sucking Jungkook’s huge cock in front of the whole class sent a bolt of lightning straight to your cunt. The professor reached behind the desk and handed you a cushion, that you put on the floor in front of Jungkook’s feet and knelt on it, your knees buried in it for support. Jungkook’s cock was inches from your face. It was still soft, but long. You gingerly reached up and held it, your hand surrounding all the way round his girth.
You felt the warm member twitch in your hand, as you wrapped your other hand around it too. Its bulbous head was red and there were three prominent veins visible on it. You took a dee breath before leaning in and putting his thick shaft in your mouth and you knew that now, it was Jungkook’s turn to start breathing heavily.
As your tongue played with the head of his cock, you swore you heard an ‘ah’ leave his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you felt it pulsing and swelling. You bobbed your head back and forth, only getting a couple of inches in your mouth, but using your hands to jerk his shaft too.
The class was absolutely silent and they watched in rapt attention as you continued to work on him. You could feel their stares on both of you. You felt kinda excited and thrilled doing this in front of so many people that the weird pleasure caused your cunt get more wet with your slick, aching with need. You took his cock out of your mouth and looked up at it, still holding it in both hands. It was fully erect now, warm and slick with your saliva.
"Perfect!" Mr Jung exclaimed, "And quite an impressive specimen as you can see. Notice how the veins in the penis have become more prominent and also how the scrotum has become tense and doesn't hang down so low. Thank you Y/N, I think you can let go now." he said, causing a ripple of nervous laughter around the class and lightening the tension.
You stood up and came back to your original position, wiping the wetness around your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. Jungkook meanwhile, turned back to face the front, his big cock still pointing straight upwards in salute.
"Now, I mentioned there were other signs of female arousal. Let's see if any have presented themselves. Y/N, if you could turn around and bend over the desk for us please?”
You did as he asked, soon following his next instruction to spread your lips with your hands.
You were bent over the desk now, your hands on your cheeks spreading them apart to give the audience a view of your asshole and cunt wide open. You felt the cold metal of the telescopic pointer against your ass when you heard professor Jung again.
"So, who can tell me what signs of arousal we can see here?”
You couldn’t see who was talking, but a guy with a deep voice cleared his throat and spoke up, "She's wet professor,"
"Good," said the professor, "The vagina has produced some fluid to aid in lubrication, and you can see it's practically dripping out in this case. The act of stimulating her partner has clearly caused her to become quite aroused. Anything else?"
There was silence from the class. "Come on," he encouraged.
After a few more moments, a nervous female voice said "Labia are engorged?"
"Yes! You can see that is quite obvious here," the pointer touched your lips. "In fact, the whole vulva is slightly swollen and engorged with blood now. Her clitoris also looks a lot bigger and redder now." You just stood there, bent over the desk, your nipples pressed against the cool wood as everyone stared at your swollen hole.
“On to the next part of the demonstration. Y/N, can you come round the side of the desk please, yes bend over the desk again. That's right, so they can see you from the side. And Jeon, come behind her and penetrate her."
You instantly felt your heart racing at thousand miles per hour as soon as you heard the professor say that. This man, with a HUGE dick was going to what, fuck you in front of literally everyone? Considering your state right now, you desperately wanted him to fuck you, as you could feel your pussy throb for him, but in front of the class? It was kinda… interesting but it sure was a turn on for you.
You felt Jungkook approach you from behind, his hands lightly rubbing the flesh of my ass cheeks, his hardness pressed against your opening. You could feel his head teasing your folds when he slid himself inside your pussy in one swift movement. You cried out at the feeling of being stretched and opened by him, even though you were wet as fuck. Being filled up by his cock let pleasure rushed through your body and you felt every part of yourself tingling with energy.
You were bent over the desk, your head turned to the class. You could see their faces watching You as Jungkook started thrust inside you, your cunt gripping him tighter after another thrust.
“Ah fuck, so tight!” Jungkook moaned out, his pace quite rough as his one hand was on your cheek, spreading them apart so he could see your asshole and pussy clenching around him, swallowing every inch of him. Your loud cry with every thrust only fueled his arousal as he fucked you with reckless abandon.
The professor was pacing up and down, still talking to the class, occasionally gesturing towards both as he explained something. Either of you both couldn't understand what he was saying, your whole attention was taken up by the relentless pleasure. You felt a pit in your stomach as you felt a tingling sensation of climax rising inside you, which made you slightly anxious; you felt it would be embarrassing to lose control and orgasm in front of the class.
Suddenly, professor Jung’s voice interrupted, "Stop right there then Jungkook, that's great."
Jungkook breathed out, and pulled out, as you let out a whispered whine and glanced around. He held his hard cock in one hand and it was covered in your essence. You felt empty and open, as if something you needed had been taken away from you and left you incomplete. The professor was pointing out the creamy wetness on Jungkook’s cock.
"Okay, I think it would be interesting to demonstrate a couple of other key sexual positions." Mr Jung continued. "Y/N, would you mind getting on your back on the desk so we can demonstrate the missionary position?”
You nodded and laid on the hard desk before professor Jung passed you the cushion to put under your head. Luckily, it was a sturdy, old fashioned oak desk, and it hardly moved as Jungkook added his weight to it, climbing on top of you between your legs.
"Now, we saw in the previous position that the penis can stimulate the g-spot, but the clitoris would need manual stimulation. In the missionary position however, the male's pubic bone can provide some clitoral stimulation." He then continued to say something about it being the most common position, but at that point, Jungkook’s huge cock entered you again and you completely switched off.
Our gaze locked together, Jungkook began to fuck you hard again, both of you breathing heavily as his one hand groped your right breast. You loved the feeling of him inside you, fucking you as deep as he could go, and you felt the same feeling rising up in you again.”
"Jungkook, please. Can we demonstrate some kissing, let's try to make it slightly realistic for the class." professor Jung told him, before going back to talking to the class about how the vaginal canal lengthens during arousal.
Jungkook leaned over, his lips grazing over yours as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue grazing between them as if seeing permission to enter your mouth, and in the next moment, you felt his tongue inside your mouth as you both let out a shaky moan. He was warm, and tasted of mint. His loosened locks from the ponytail hair hung down over your face.
The combined sensation of the passionate kiss with hard thrusting into your core suddenly spiraled you out of control and you felt myself go over the edge. An intense orgasm washed over you, consuming your whole body. You screamed and dug your fingers into Jungkook’s back as you rode wave after wave of pleasure that coursed through you, your pussy convulsing violently.
“oh my god!” you breathed out, throwing your head back in pleasure.
Jungkook slowed, and kissed you again as you came down from your high. Mr Jung was continuing to talk to the class, "So, we weren't going to do the female orgasm until week three, but never mind. As our subjects have accidentally demonstrated already, it's interesting to note that only around 25% of females can climax from penetration alone."
Jungkook was slowly moving his cock in and out of your soaking cunt now, giving you a break after your orgasm, but it felt amazing. You were already hoping that you’d be able to meet up with him privately for a more intimate sex session. And he was a great kisser.
"Fantastic," said the professor, "But we're running out of time, so let's move on to the male orgasm." You heard a groan, this time from Jungkook almost like a whine as he pulled out from you, and got off from the table, helping you do the same.
Mr Jung fetched a chair and placed it in front of the class. "Jungkook, please on the chair. and Y/N, if you mount him. Let's make sure everyone can see properly." Jungkook followed, sitting on the chair, facing the crowd as you walked over to where Jungkook was sitting on the chair, your legs weak and shaking from the orgasm. You could feel your juices running down your thighs. You glanced at the crowd once and saw they were squirming in their seats looking all hot and bothered.
You turned my back on the class and straddled Jungkook, sinking down onto his cock, feeling him filling you once again. “Oh my god, Y/N.” Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back from the sensation.
Professor Jung was behind you pointing out the details of the penetration and how your lips gripped his penis and-all-that. He pointed to your exposed asshole, "We'll cover anal sex in week four.”
You started to ride Jungkook, wrapping your arms around him as you rode him on the chair. You wanted the sensations to last forever, the thought of thirty pairs of eyes watching your lips wrapped around his cock only spurred you on even more. You started fucking Jungkook as hard as you could, leaning in to thrust your tongue in his mouth.
"Okay Jungkook, when you're ready you can climax inside her." Mr Jung said, folding his arms and stepping back slightly to allow the class a good view. Jungkook hands grabbed your ass and he spread your ass with his fingers as you rode him.
“Oh yes, fuck! yes” You moaned out as you felt yourself coming again. You cried out as your whole body shook and your cunt contracted around his swollen meat. His fingers gripped your ass tightly, and he let out a low groan as you felt him unload his hot ropes of cum inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing.
You held each other tightly as you took heavy breaths. You saw how worn out he was, how his big doe eyes were staring into your, and how his bottom lip twitched slightly as he lets out ragged breaths. You could see his mole under his bottom lip and a scar on his left cheek from the first time up this close.
He was beautiful.
You couldn’t help yourself, as you grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him sensually, to which he immediately responded to, kissing you back gently, as he felt you thumb caressing his scarred cheek. Even the professor was momentarily speechless. There was not a sound from anyone in the class.
Finally, You pulled off, breathing heavily and lifted yourself off his cock and floods of cum poured out of you, covering Jungkook’s cock and thighs with your slick and his release. Both of you were in quite a state, covered in sweat and cum.
Mr Jung quickly regained his composure, his signature smile back in his face. "An excellent demonstration from our two models." he began, "Please give them a round of applause."There was a smattering of clapping from the class for a while before he continued.
"The semen in this position is leaking out of the female. If they were having sex for breeding purposes, the missionary position would be better."
The bell for the end of the lesson rang and he raised his voice over the sounds of the rest of the class getting to their feet and packing up their things. "The homework for this week, please try to engage in the sexual act yourself with as many partners as possible, but please ensure to use protection and get tested for HIV with your partner. Better be safer than sorry. Also, I'd like two thousand words on your experiences, due in before the lesson next week."
The class filed out and Jungkook and you retrieved your clothes and hastily got dressed. The professor came up to us with a smile.
"Not too bad for a first attempt," he said, "Same time next week. you’ll get your pay by 6 in the evening.” He smiled as he exited the classroom, leaving both of you alone in the classroom. You sighed as started you started to walk up to the door to leave before you heard Jungkook’s voice behind you, stopping you in your tracks.
“Hey… Y/N?” He took some calculated steps towards you, his hand shoved in his pocket as he continued,
“I had well… fun in today’s lesson.”
You bit your lips nervously, nodding slightly, “I did too. You were amazing.”
Your words caused Jungkook to chuckle a little, as he walked close to you, looking down at you. “I’d want to experience everything with you again. Not in lesson’s though….”
You nodded, before he continued.
“You wanna go get coffee to celebrate our demonstration with me after you get cleaned up? I’ll wait for you outside the locker room’s bathroom. You can take as much time as you want.”
You could feel your cheeks heating up, you were definitely flustered.
“I’d love too….”
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Text
Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human
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Part One, Two
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Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library. 
Ring Ring
“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”
Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.
“Did they…take a book?”
“T-t-they took four!”
“Oh, goodness!?”
Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.
“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”
“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”
Ring Ring
“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.” 
Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.
“They nearly saw my tail!”
“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”
 The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.
“All rise for the great Stein!”
“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”
By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.
“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”
“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”
“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”
By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.
“My lord what does this mean!?”
“Shall we stake them?!”
“Ritualize them?!”
“Entice them to join!?
“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”
Gasps fill the library basement.
“Can this be?”
“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!” 
“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”
“I should hope so.” 
“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”
“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!” 
“We must begin planning immediately!”
Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.
“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”
“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”
“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”
“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”
“Say it! Ask my lord!”
“What was that?”
“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”
“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!” 
“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”
“Shh!”
He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.
“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”
“Mmmffff.”
“Oh my.”
“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”
“I–yes that is the plan.”
“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”
“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”
Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’
“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”
“...I’ll need salt.”
“Yes, my lord!”
When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way
“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”
“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”
“Yeah well appearance is every–”
“...” “...”
“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace. 
“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”
“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”
“Mmm–”
“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”
“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”
If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.
“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”
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Part 4: Coming Soon
Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes @ceramic-raven @lilyalone @asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather
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niningtori · 4 months ago
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for the hope of it all | part one
part two
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pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you
summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.
genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)
warnings: super rushed to meet a deadline, not proofread, smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 7.2k
notes: whew... i couldn't just post a fic based on a song called AUGUST after august ends (even tho there's only a few minutes left where i am idccc) anyway this isn't the best thing in the world but i still ask that u all don't be mean to me <3 feedback is appreciated n loved as well :)
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beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.
it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.
that's what you tell yourself, at least.
-
beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.
the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck. 
all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.
-
“so what's the plan?” soobin asks. 
“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.
“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.
“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.
“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful. 
“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”
“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now. 
“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”
“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens. 
“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”
“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is. 
“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.
“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway. 
“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.” 
“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you. 
-
you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu. 
you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.
the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown. 
without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.
he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures. 
you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.
“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”
“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story. 
“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof. 
he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion. 
“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.
beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair. 
but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.
beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something?  please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —
and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.
suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too. 
you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh. 
his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt. 
“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.
“w-well, i —” 
“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.
“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch. 
he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole. 
“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace. 
it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste. 
“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed. 
you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.
before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.
he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject. 
beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.
“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”
“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression. 
“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you. 
he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading. 
“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.
“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.
his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.
your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.
“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself. 
“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”
“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.” 
“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?
but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely. 
“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says. 
the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you. 
“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?” 
“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”
“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.
he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy. 
he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret. 
“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.
“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.
“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?” 
and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else. 
“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”
-
“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them. 
“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.
“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame. 
“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words. 
“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.
“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him. 
“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?” 
“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.
“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.” 
-
this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.
things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.
with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced. 
“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.
“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers. 
“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.
“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”
“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.
“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —” 
“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.
“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed. 
“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod. 
“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.
“i-i forgot.” 
“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.
“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.
“about?” 
it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words. 
“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”
“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. 
“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”
“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.
“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.
“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?
“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.
“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.
“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.
“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. 
because it was easy. 
easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.
soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance. 
he’s just using you. 
he’s garbage.
he’s just gonna hurt you.
and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.
“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me” 
and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him. 
“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out. 
“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.
either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.
-
this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong. 
she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.
“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.
“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again. 
“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off. 
“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.” 
beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth. 
“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.
“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly. 
his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.
“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion. 
“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.
“that’s…” 
“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.
and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.
her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even. 
“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again. 
“i-i didn’t mean to —” 
“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”
-
beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize. 
but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.
surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.
it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside. 
your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure. 
“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.
your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response. 
“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison. 
“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral. 
“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.
“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance. 
“a-and, um, i —”
“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”
“but i —” 
“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out. 
“i think — i know —  i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even. 
“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.
“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”
“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods. 
“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?” 
“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —” 
“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.
notes pt. 2: yeah... idk when part two will be out but stay tuned! also, if you all want a soobin ending let me know and i might... MIGHT do it ;_;
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alexiswritingstuff · 4 months ago
Text
Everyone can heal.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader
Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.
Genre: hurt/comfort.
Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.
This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.
A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!
Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!
I hope you enjoy!!
Logan masterlist.
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It had been a long few days.
It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.
Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.
But you wanted to learn. Or... did.
The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.
See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.
It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.
Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.
Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.
But you couldn't exactly blame him.
This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.
He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.
It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.
The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.
It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed. 
You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer. 
It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.
The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.
It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.
Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.
Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.
The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.
Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.
He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.
His eyes were closed.
At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.
Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.
Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.
Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.
Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.
You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.
You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--
And then bam.
Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.
In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.
“Whoa-- hey!”
He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.
They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.
It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.
“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in. 
He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.
But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.
Until his gaze lowered.
Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.
So, why did something sound like it was dripping?
“Y/n.”
By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”
You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.
“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.
There was your answer. “Oh.”
Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?
“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”
“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”
His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.
“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”
Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”
He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.
“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”
You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.
But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.
~~~
The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.
It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.
You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.
But that was the last thing on your mind.
You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.
Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.
You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.
Until today.
A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.
The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.
It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.
In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.
Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.
Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.
So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.
Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.
More so who.
Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.
Logan.
He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.
There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--
“I didn't mean to hurt you.”
Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.
Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”
You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”
It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.
“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”
“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”
“Y/n, I'm sorry.”
“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”
You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.
It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.
But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.
“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.” 
The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”
“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.
“And, I'm still here, Logan.”
You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.
A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”
“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”
You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.
“See?”
Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.
They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.
“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”
“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.
Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.
“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.” 
Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles. 
It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.
I guess it just slipped your mind.
“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.
“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”
That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”
“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.
He was supposed to be relieved.
“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”
The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.
The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.
You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.
It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss. 
Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?
Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired. 
Just a different kind.
You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.
Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.
By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.
You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”
There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,” 
“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”
Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.” 
He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”
This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.” 
The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it. 
But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.” 
In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”
“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”
Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.
“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.
Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.
He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.
“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.
“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.
You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.
You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”
There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.
Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.
By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.
Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further. 
His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.
An extra weight that you were glad to carry.
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bluemari23 · 1 year ago
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hello soulmate | min yoongi
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summary: your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned
pairing: min yoongi x hype employee reader
genre: soulmate au, soulmarks, fluff,
warnings: running, unhappy coworkers, some injury
word count: 1.7k
masterlist
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Running was not your forte, and neither was breathing apparently as you choke trying to get air into your lungs as you reach the fortunately empty elevator. 
You were running late, and you were seconds away from being fired on your third day of work. You had just gotten the job as one of the content creators for a variety show through one of the big four entertainment companies, and today was the first official day at the company. 
HYBE was bigger than you imagined, and thus, the reason you were late. You had gotten lost on the first floor and then there were issues with your ID card getting past security. But you manage to reach the 12th floor in record time and use the piece of paper you received the last meeting to find the correct room. 
It was slight chaos when you opened the door, unsurprisingly as you now realized who you would be working with for the variety show. Everything was kept top secret until you were approved by HYBE and showed up on the first day, after signing numerous NDA’s of course. 
The BTS boys were having fun and running amuck as they waited for the shoot to start. It was supposed to be just a fun shoot, numerous arcade games set up throughout the room and a table set in the middle where some challenges were going to take place later on. 
You looked around after taking in the room, trying to set eyes on your director. Eventually you find him talking to your fellow creators, going over the different challenges that would be taking place. 
“—After the water bottle challenge, we’re going to move onto the karaoke booth.” You arrive just at the tail end of the run through, but you manage to understand anyways, seeing as you all had a copy of the schedule for the day. 
“Where have you been? Never mind, you’re working on the individual camera today.” Your director questions you but doesn’t give you any time to explain yourself before moving on and assigning you your task. You quickly nod your head, before moving to grab one of the video cameras from the table. 
You would be in charge of taking individual behind the scenes videos and photos for the social media accounts. You had seen episodes of Run BTS before and knew how much moving you would be doing today. 
Again. Running wasn’t your thing. 
“What are you doing?” You turn your head to see a slightly older woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she looks towards the camera in your hands. 
“I was assigned individual shots today, Ma’am.” You respond as politely as you can, getting bad feelings from the woman in front of you. 
You could almost feel that you would be having problems with her. You tried to be respectful though, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes on your first official day. 
The woman just looked you up and down, her nose crinkling a little before she spoke. “Just don’t get in my way. I’ve been doing this longer than you have and don’t need some inexperienced newbie messing up my photos.” 
You can only nod before she is walking past you, bumping into your shoulder on her way past. 
‘What the heck?’ you think, turning to watch as she steps forward and begins to talk to one of the supervisors who was in the middle of talking to Namjoon. Shaking your head, you move to the edge of the set, close to the basketball arcade shot game. 
You had a good view of the other games from here and felt you could maneuver through the set easier from where you were set up. Bringing your camera up to your eyes, you begin taking some practice shots, making sure the lighting was good and the settings on the camera aligned with what you wanted to photograph.
It took you some time, but eventually you were able to begin taking photos of the boys who had come back to mess around with the games after getting changed and before the actual shoot started. 
You were so focused on the pictures that you didn’t even notice one of the boys moving up to you. 
“Hi! You must be one of the new creators! I’m Taehyung.” The bright eyed man bounced right up to you when he noticed you, hand held in front of you to shake your hand as he introduced himself. 
You put your camera down, smiling softly as you brought your hand to meet his, introducing yourself. As you did, you caught his attention on your wrist, where your soulmark resided. The initials of your soulmate were written in short, quick writing, the gray M and Y staring back up at you since the minute you turned sixteen. 
Taehyung’s smile only seemed to widen once you introduced yourself, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You could barely blink before the director was calling for the boys to get into place; the shoot was about to begin. 
You smile as you watch him bounce away again, his energy levels palpable as you hold your camera up again. 
The next hour was spent moving slowly throughout the edge of the set up game room, trying to get as many good shots as you could. You noticed that Taehyung gravitated towards you and seemed to pull Yoongi with him to play the basketball game, Jungkook following behind to try and battle against the basketball player. 
You moved closer to get a picture of both boys making a basket and scoring a point when someone stepped on your foot causing pain to radiate up your ankle and shin. A gasp leaves your lips as you look towards your left to see the woman from earlier, a glare set on her dark eyes as she almost pushes you aside. 
You end up tripping over the cord to another game and just barely manage to catch yourself on the corner of said game before injuring yourself or ruining the shoot. You were so focused on the pain in your foot you didn’t even notice the burning in your wrist as your soulmark gets darker. 
You didn’t notice the three men witnessing the entire thing, nor the dark looks Taehyung was sending to the older woman. A break was luckily called soon enough and you tried to move away back to the far wall but a hand on your arm stops you.
“What was that? I thought I told you not to get in my way?!” The older woman steps in front of you, her hand still gripping tightly to your forearm. 
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You grit out as politely as you can, the pain in your ankle making you want to sit down but you knew you needed to just go along with what she was saying, not wanting any trouble. 
“No. Don’t apologize.” You both turn to your right to see Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook, all three eyeing the hand gripping onto your forearm. The woman is quick to release you when she realizes what the boys were seeing. 
“Oh boys! Don’t worry about this. I’m just giving some advice to the newbie.” The woman was quick to put on the sweet tone as she speaks to them. You just want to roll your eyes. 
Pulling your arm back to your chest, rubbing against where you knew her grip was going to leave some bruises. Your sleeve had rolled back down and your forearm was on full display, along with your soulmark. 
“Advice? It seemed like you stepped on and pushed someone out of the way. That is not okay nor something we want to see happen between our employees.” Yoongi’s voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if to ensure the woman knew exactly what she had done. 
Jungkook moved to you while Taehyung and Yoongi were talking to the woman, his hand holding onto your own, softly and a huge contrast to the woman as he tilts your forearm around to see the spot where the woman held you.
The skin was red and he knew it would bruise. This was unacceptable and he would make sure that the woman would be reprimanded for her actions. As Jungkook continued to look over your arm, his attention was caught by your soulmark, his hyungs initials on the inside of your wrist. 
‘No wonder Taehyung kept bringing him to where you were…’ Jungkook mused, a small smile on his lips as the thought of Taehyung trying to bring you two together. 
Well, no time like the present. 
Taehyung agreed, as his next words caught the attention of everyone. 
“You hurt Yoongi’s mate.” Your eyes widened as your head turned quickly to see Yoongi already staring at you, your faces both sharing the expression of shock. Jungkook was still holding your wrist, bringing you the two feet until you were right in front of Yoongi. 
You were silent, trying to process everything as Yoongi looked down at your held out wrist, his initials written in his own handwriting. Slowly, he pulled his own sleeve up, showing you his soulmark. 
Your initials were written in your own soft script, smooth cursive showing on his inner wrist, the same spot as your own. 
You were lost in your own world, oblivious to all of the noise and emotions happened outside the two of you. Yoongi slowly brought his hand to your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the top of your soulmark, gray turning to a dark black as the soulbond snaps into place confirming Taehyung’s suspicions. 
“Hello, soulmate.” A gummy smile burns into your retina, a memory you never want to forget as warmth erupts in your soul.
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fanfics-with-coffee · 4 months ago
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Wants
More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!
No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?
Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26
Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 
“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.
“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.
“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.
Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.
“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”
“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”
The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.
“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.
“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”
And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.
Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 
Yet…
“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 
You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.
“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”
“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”
There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 
Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 
The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.
Crack
The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.
“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.
“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.
“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”
“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.
“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”
He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.
“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.
You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 
“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.
“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”
“It’s as good a reason as any.”
Silence.
You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?
“That’s it?”
“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”
It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.
“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.
“You said no.” You shrugged.
“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”
You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.
“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”
“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”
Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.
“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”
Oh.
Oh.
Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.
“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.
Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 
He liked you too.
A lot.
A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.
“I see…”
It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.
A moment passes in silence.
There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.
“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”
Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.
You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.
“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.
“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.
That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.
“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.
“...I’d like that…”
In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.
Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.
He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.
In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.
“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.
“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”
Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 
And he wants to show you how much he wants you.
His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.
His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.
There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.
Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.
“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.
“You know why.” You say defiantly.
“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”
“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.
“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.
He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.
Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 
“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”
For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.
“What do you want, Astarion?”
You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”
“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.
“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”
His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.
“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”
His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.
“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”
You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.
“I want you to want me, just as I am.”
There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 
You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 
“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”
You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 
“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.
“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.
“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 
“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.
“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 
His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.
“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.
“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.
“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.
“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.
“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”
“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”
Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?
“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.
“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.
“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.
“T-then why..?”
“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”
You nod, dumbfounded.
“I don’t want you to.”
“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.
“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”
“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.
“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”
He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.
“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.
“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.
“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”
Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.
You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 
Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.
“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”
Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.
A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.
“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 
The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.
And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 
It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.
“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.
“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.
“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”
Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.
“But now that is me… Ugh.”
“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.
“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.
“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”
“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 
“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.
You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.
“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”
“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.
519 notes · View notes
greenpurplemylove · 2 months ago
Text
What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️
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→ masterlist.
→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.
synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.
→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.
-> wc: 5,8k
warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).
-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶
♥️
Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.
Especially if those two people are practically close friends.
Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.
You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.
Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.
With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.
But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.
At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.
He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.
And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.
Always opened doors for you.
Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.
And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.
Even offering to pay for your meals.
It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.
You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,
your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,
and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.
Naturally, you grew closer to him.
Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,
or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.
The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?
And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.
The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.
Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.
He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.
He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.
And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.
He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.
Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,
and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.
Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.
After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.
It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.
Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.
After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,
so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.
Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.
When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.
It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.
A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.
And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.
Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.
Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.
Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.
You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.
But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.
From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.
All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.
“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.
He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.
His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.
Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.
“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.
Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.
You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.
His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.
He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,
feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.
The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.
Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,
feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.
Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,
lacing your fingers on to it.
You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.
“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.
Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.
Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.
His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.
“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.
“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.
You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.
You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.
“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.
He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.
Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.
His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,
unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.
Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,
pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.
Purple. His favorite color.
Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.
So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.
But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.
This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.
His close friend. Y/N.
He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,
from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.
He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,
at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,
and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,
thinking about fucking you all to himself.
And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,
your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.
All for himself.
It was like a wet dream come true to him.
Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,
staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.
He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.
Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,
feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.
Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.
You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.
His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.
It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.
He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.
There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.
He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,
he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.
“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.
He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,
it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”
“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,
his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.
The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.
“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.
Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,
feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.
His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.
Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.
He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.
It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,
taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.
Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.
Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.
Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.
Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.
You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.
And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.
He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,
missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.
Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,
just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.
Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.
The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.
He was definitely big.
Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.
All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.
Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.
“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.
“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.
He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.
Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,
letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.
The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,
pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.
“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.
Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.
His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.
“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.
The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.
Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.
Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.
You were insatiable.
He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.
A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,
holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.
So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.
And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.
“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.
Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,
his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,
his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.
His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,
watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.
You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.
You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.
You needed him.
“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.
He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,
stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.
“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,
angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”
Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,
lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.
Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.
It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.
Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.
“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.
“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.
Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.
His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.
The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.
“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.
The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.
The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,
as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.
His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.
“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,
His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,
revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.
Where have you been all his life?
How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?
A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.
Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.
“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,
picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.
He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.
Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.
The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.
His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.
He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.
The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.
The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.
His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”
“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.
Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.
“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.
“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,
feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,
making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.
A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.
You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.
His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.
You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.
“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.
“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,
whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.
Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.
The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.
Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.
You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.
“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.
“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.
“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.
His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.
“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.
His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.
You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.
“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.
You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.
It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.
Whining at the loss of your orgasm.
All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.
“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.
“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”
At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.
“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.
You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.
“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.
A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.
A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.
“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.
Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.
“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.
You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,
too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.
“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.
“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.
Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.
He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.
You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,
leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.
”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.
“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.
This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.
"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.
"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.
"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.
“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.
Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.
“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”
You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.
His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.
The feeling of you alone could make him cum.
“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,
but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.
You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.
A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.
The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.
“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.
You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.
Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.
“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.
Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.
“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.
“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,
the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.
“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.
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jenicaclarisse · 5 months ago
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YUNO GRINBERRYALL
Dating the notorious Yuno!
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summary: dating the vice captain of the Golden Dawn is an experience you don’t want to let go.
genre: fluff (obvi) had to get him on here. How can he be so pretty? fanfic + headcanons cause I spoil all of you
A/N: I’m still an active member of the BC fandom and I’m thinking of making this a series. Please send requests of characters you want me to do!
;not proofread (💨)
———
Yuno isn’t the type to actively seek relationships, mostly just the type of person to reply and talk to somebody when first approached. And or somebody paired him up for a mission. So taking an interest in something other than being the best of the flock is new territory.
Getting to know him is getting to know him entirely. Despite his detached nature, Yuno is actually very open to getting to know you. Already seeing you as a romantic interest despite his goals, ambitions and dreams.
When actively entering the courting stage, Yuno is very competitive. Striving to let you know that you are one of his priorities and doesn’t see this “courting” as a one time thing. Don’t even bother speaking with other guys, Yuno will let you know he is interested.
His behavior changes, his demeanor is different too. It gets to the point his squad notices his absence after being done with a mission and is somehow nowhere to be found.
Klaus and Mimosa are naturally curious. What was he doing? What was he thinking of? Or who?
It’s perfect timing he was back in town.
“Do you think Yuno’s been disappearing lately?” Mimosa asks, walking with Klaus in the hall. She looks up at Klaus who was comically adjusting his glasses and posture.
“Yuno is responsible! We don’t need to worry! I think we should mind our own business!” Klaus shouts as he looks back at Mimosa who clearly knows better.
“You’re curious too.”
“..I’m not.”
Klaus continues to deny but is inevitably shut down. Mimosa has seen through anyway as he adjusts his glasses again with a resounding cough.
-
“Where do you think he went?” Klaus nervously asks, both he and Mimosa hiding behind a wall. Yuno looks to be waiting for somebody as he decides to indulge himself in some bread.
“Do you think we should even be spying? He’s a good man I assure you. Do you honestly think he’s being suspicious? Why do you-“
“Shhh shush!”
Mimosa puts a finger on her lip, effectively shutting Klaus up as he grumbles.
They continue to wait until they heard a voice. A magic knight from another squad! A girl…
“Yuno!” You happily greet him as you hugged him. Yuno is quick to reciprocate, patting your head as you let go of him. Yuno is seen with a soft smile as well.
“WHat!” Klaus’ voice breaks.
“Shhhh!”
Mimosa is quick to shut him up, but this time she puts a hand on his mouth to shut him up. Maybe she should’ve done the spying with a different partner.
“…They’re on a date.” Klaus surmises. After an hour pf following You and Yuno around town, he had made his conclusions. Klaus and Mimosa obnoxiously disguised themselves with accessories to prevent being recognized. Seeing the both of you holding hands and buying street food was convincing enough.
“Obviously!” Mimosa replies, holding a pair of binoculars as she continues to zoom on the both of you.
“Ahhm” You feed Yuno a piece of your crepe as he leaned down to eat his share. He goes back to his position as he hummed.
“Yummy.” Yuno wipes a piece of whipped cream from the corner of his lip.
Klaus is appalled!
Pointing and looking back to both of you, then mimosa, and again.
“Will you please calm down?” Mimosa exasperates.
“I just find it hard to believe!” Klaus is practically hyperventilating. “I didn’t take Yuno for the type!”
“He’s allowed to date.” She deadpans.
Eventually, the date comes to an end as Yuno walks you back to your headquarters. Dutifully letting you ride on his broom for more convenient travel. And an excuse to hold him (wink wink).
Both You and Yuno get off the broom as you dust yourself off. Yuno is quick to ruffle your hair again. Affectionately smiling at you as you hugged him goodbye.
“I really enjoyed my time.” Yuno tells you as you nodded.
“Thank you. It was really fun.” You smiled back at him and by the lords. You are beautiful.
Yuno gives you forehead kiss goodbye as you waved back at him and begin to enter the headquarters’ gates. Gazing at his back for a few more moments to savor more time to look at him.
You definitely have a story to tell much later.
Yuno stops in his tracks as he deadpans.
“I know you’ve been stalking me.” Yuno lets out a heavy sigh. Somebody flinches from behind a wall as a guilty Mimosa and Klaus makes their appearance. Klaus is adjusts his glasses again and clears his throat.
“We congratulate you!” He obnoxiously bows, as Mimosa scratches the back of her neck in an embarrassed manner.
“Impossible.” Yuno sighs and walked past the both of them.
“We did not think this was your after duties!” Klaus is quick to follow as well as Mimosa who right behind.
“How could you never tell us! We are your friends! Squadmates!” Klaus goes on a full rant. “We are supposed to tell each other everything! Aren’t we closer now?”
Before he gets to shout any further, Yuno was already on his broom and leaving.
“What idiots.”
———
HEADCANONS
When push comes to shove, you were eventually revealed as Yuno’s significant other. Causing an uproar with the people he was close with, particularly a certain sylph and an obnoxious person.
Needless to say Belle wasn’t the most happy. Grabbing and pulling Yuno’s face and hair in protest about getting a girlfriend. Her obvious glares towards and sometimes even stomping her feet.
“This is fairrr!!!” Belle screeches. “I was supposed to be your only love! Not that witch!” She grabs a fistful of Yuno’s cheek as she complained and complained. Glaring at you once again.
“Who even are you?!” She accuses you with a finger as you chuckled. “This isn’t a laughing matter!”
Yuno pushes away with his hand eventually, causing her to quiet down as she settles on his shoulder. She still doesn’t like you, but is afraid of Yuno’s disapproval. So she keeps put. But the jealousy is bleeding.
Meanwhile, Asta is swearing up and down like crazed man as he confront Yuno as they come across each other again.
“You jerk! You weren’t supposed to beat me in that department!” Asta holds his head as he rolled around on the ground. Passerby’s whisper as he whined. A child throwing a tantrum? Yeah. Looks like it.
Yuno merely smirks triumphantly.
“You pretty jerk!” Asta exaggerates. Continuing to get up on Yuno’s face as Yuno smirks, lifting his head up when Asta moves closer. But his screams eventually reside.
“But I’ll be wizard king! I’ll definitely surpass you!” Asta declares.
“No way.” Yuno counters.
“I’ll definitely will!” Asta is dragged off by Noelle. “Do you hear me? I definitely will!!”
Noelle slaps him across the head.
Yuno is genuinely so sweet to you as well. You cannot even deny the fact that he puts in effort to understand you more than he does with others. He makes you feel seen and heard.
And if you are the tempestuous type, he’s definitely the cool that’s gonna make you see reason.
He mostly calms you down with a gust of wind to your face and or he playfully teases you by messing your hair up.
You guys indulge in little challenges! Who gets to the end of the bridge first, who can finish a mission the fastest, or who can unlock a new spell in your grimoire. Let’s be honest, you loss on most of these things.
But Yuno lets you win from time to time, purposely running slower or maybe even challenging you to more activities. But don’t be fooled, it’s just a five second head start before he overpowers you. (Haha)
What he loves about you is that he feels comfortable around you (which is canon btw. His type is somebody who makes him feel comfortable. Which I believe you influenced that)
The fact that he can also participate in a conversation with you and or listen actively to you is his favorite past time.
He loves picnic dates because he gets to view the sky (and you)
He thinks you are the most beautiful woman in clover.
Belle still does not like you (lol) but Yuno is starting to slowly change her mind. But as of now she merely tolerates you.
Yuno absolutely loves food dates. Believe it or not he actually likes to get some scrub himself. As per charmie’s constant food she often gives. But mostly to restore his mana.
He loves trying new things with you. The relationship is rarely boring.
Whenever he’s busy he communicates with you with the communication wand. Often in private as he wonders off from the rest of his team. He definitely uses that communication device to his advantage to keep himself updated with you.
He thinks his fangirls are a pain.
Charmie wasn’t too happy with the news. She fainted with heartbreak but eventually accepted the power of the fates.
In conclusion Yuno’s a great boyfriend
———
reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!
507 notes · View notes
mikanotes · 1 year ago
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live a little!
hyunsu ? x gn!reader
genre: ‘idont knowww he likes you’ that’s the genre
warnings: mentions of death, blood and injuries, cursing, monster hyunsu jumpscare, attempting to work with the “monster hyunsu does what hyunsu desires” thing except it takes place in season one and i’m trying to make it as fitting to canon as possible, this is a badly written mess Sorry!
synopsis: The day Hyunsu’s mind acknowledges his feelings for you, but he himself doesn’t quite realize.
author’s note: if you’re desperate for a part 2 to up close & personal you can pretend this is a prequel because it kind of fits? anyways i’ll write for Hyunsu hyunsu eventually too i miss him it’s been a bit
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“You’re no fun.” Hyunsu laughs.
His voice is heavy and he’s struggling to catch his breath, practically stumbling over his words. In fact, he’s practically stumbling over his own feet due to how impatient and quick his movements are. His face, usually so stoic and soft, is now covered in blood and adorned with a maniacal grin, paired with those hiccupy laughs of his. He looks positively fucking insane.
“Yes, well. If that means valuing staying alive, I’ll be no fun.” you say, fingers holding the hood of Hyunsu’s jacket tightly. He tilts his head in your direction, looking at you with those black, glassy eyes. Your gaze hardens, “What?”
He scoffs. “Live a little.” he says, tone light. He brushes off your hand and takes a step into your personal space. His voice drops to a whisper, one that sounds almost mocking for a short time. “You’re so hellbent on surviving, but are you even living?”
You’re forced to back into the railing behind you and hold onto it, eyes never leaving Hyunsu’s.
“Come on. You’re not gonna tell me I’m wrong.” he scoffs softly, leaning down, “Right?”
“Get it together, Cha Hyunsu.” you say, glaring a little. The latter grins.
“What? You think I’m out of my mind? Why would I need to get it together?”
“If anyone else had been here to see you, you would’ve been killed already. Look at yourself.”
You hear the railing behind you creak, and you feel Hyunsu’s hand on your back saving you from a fate similar to the one he’d faced towards the beginning of this apocalypse before you feel the metal moving away from you. The sound of it breaking and falling down from the flight of stairs is loud and makes you flinch.
He pulls you away from the edge and lets go of you.
“You’re welcome.” he says, tone flat, “I know what I look like. But they couldn’t kill me if they tried. Now let’s go kill some monsters already.”
He seriously doesn’t get why you shoot him this annoyed look of yours. (He just saved you! Hello?!) After all, what’s so wrong about this? Killing monsters? That’s literally the only thing everyone in this fucking building keeps him alive for, right? It’s always Hyunsu do this, do that, save us, don’t kill us, and now, get it together. That’s why everyone should die.
Then again, he knows you think differently from the others. You’re telling him to snap out of it so he won’t be cast out by the others even more. That’s why you came with him. Why you never abandoned him.
Because you… care. Surprisingly.
Ah, now I get it, Hyunsu. he thinks. You care about this person much more than you realize.
He sighs and tilts his head. “Come on.” he sighs, tone somewhere between pleading and annoyed.
“We have stuff to retrieve. For everyone else.” you say, gaze averting to the place you were just standing at. “Let’s not take unnecessary risks.”
Hyunsu drums his fingers against the spear in his hand, eyes narrowing a little. “Do you really think I care about anyone in this place enough to get their shit?” he asks calmly, “You’re mistaken.”
“He does.” you sigh, “Whether it’s a good thing or not, he does.“
“And that’s really not my problem.” It is.
He hears the growl of a monster in a corridor nearby and turns towards the direction of the sound. Killing everyone. That’s what he wants. That’s what he cares about. He swings the door open and steps in, before stopping.
He leans back just enough to look at you from the side of the door. “Are you sure you won’t come?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips.
You seem to still be frightened by what would’ve happened if he hadn’t caught you. Frightened by the idea of falling from so high. He heaves a deep sigh and steps back out, just enough to grab your arm and pull you closer.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, “Stop thinking about almost falling to your death.”
When you’re closer to him like this, Hyunsu feels confused. Well, this is clearly a crush, he thinks. But he doesn’t think that is something that he should be able to feel. It’s like an instinct to reach out to protect you. A reflex. Maybe it’s his feelings? He’s not sure.
“It’s hard to think about anything else.”
“Then focus on me.” he says. The word ‘me’ comes out a bit harsher than the rest, a bit like it’s echoing. He lets go of your arm. “And all will be well. That’s crazy practical, right?” he scoffs.
“I don’t get you.” you say, crossing your arms. “Are you trying to help me?”
He takes a deep breath and closes the door a little to look at you properly, leaning against the edge of it. “To be honest with you, I mostly just care about myself.” he answers easily, “But…”
You. You who looks at this part of him and cares, still. Who doesn’t even seem scared. Who just wants to make sure he’s okay, in spite of everything.
Maybe you deserve to be excluded from the ‘everyone’ that he wishes would just die.
He thinks he can find a middle ground. A way to reach some sort of agreement with Hyunsu. You may just be the key to getting him to accept his own self. He shrugs. “Who knows.”
He lets the weaker half of him take control again. After all, each time a danger seemed to get too close to you, the instinct to help you and get you away before it could reach you was his. So as the greater part of him, he would do everything he can to help him out. And right now, that would be letting him deal with all this and maybe try to bargain for this whole control thing.
“Hyunsu.” you say, eyes wide. His own eyes have finally returned to their usual state. He blinks, taking a few seconds to register what’s going on, then his eyes widen as well.
“Are you okay?!”
“Uh…” he trails off, looking towards the edge of the stairs, where there should have been a railing. Then he looks at your relieved expression, then at the half-opened door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…”
He thinks for a moment then slowly, carefully closes the door. “I’m fine. Are you? Maybe I should go alone.” he says.
“No, it’s fine. I’m alright. Let’s go together.”
(I could help you keep them safe.)
His hand tightens around his spear as he tries to ignore how loud his mind is.
No. Shut up.
“… Okay. Let’s go, then.”
He has a lot to do. There’s a list of things the other residents asked him to get for them. You didn’t have to go with him, but you did, which means he has to make sure you both survive this whole thing. He has a lot of things to focus on, and none of them include the monster in his head trying to get him to listen.
Maybe one day, he’d accept it.
Who knows?
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ninguitar · 3 months ago
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୨୧ ONLY YOU, MY GIRL ˒˒ NY
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─── ﹙🎶﹚with arguments already spurred on between the two of you, the light to the fuse was the way some sleazy, no-good guy hits on you. of course, ningning couldn't help but lash onto you, inevitably leading to kissing in the rain.
pairing. ning yizhuo x f!r genre. fluff + some angst wc. 1.1k+ notes. didn't intend to make this so long. oops. MASTERLIST.
now playing ⋆ dark red by steve lacy
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NING YIZHUO REMEMBERS THE DAY she asked you out with a kind of affection that just, makes her heart pump out of her chest—the way your mumbled words and giggling made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. it was one of those perfect afternoons, flowers scattered around the field, as the chinese girl dragged you to the mat, her hands pressed against your eyes while she meekly giggles. the sun hanging over the two of you had only made everything comforting and slow, practically engulfing ningning. all her attention was on you, her eyes flickering to your lips.
and your relationship was perfect, really, lingering with fervor and passion; until it wasn't.
for weeks now, the relentless absence of the chinese girl only made you sulk, revisiting your troubled mind ever-so-often. sure, her voice blares through your head every night, every day, mainly through the phone calls, but you couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and anxiety. sighing, you check the time on your phone again, the movement becoming instinctual.
9:30 p.m., great, she was incredibly late to your guys' weekly movie-night. your laptop's harsh brightness only makes you huff and your eyes burnt-out, as you card a hand through your hair.
were you being too clingy and anxious? maybe, who knows, but nonetheless, all you wanted to do was be embraced in the chinese girl's arms, her melodic voice against your ear reassuring you. every single crack and sound made your body still, despite knowing it wasn't your ningning.
"i'll be there at 6, baby, i promise. love you."
her words ring in your ears, as your mind forced you to revisit that lie. but hey, maybe she was just busy and got too caught up. why couldn't you just give ningning the benefit of the doubt?
your heart jumps in fear, as you hear the door unlock, making you whip your head towards the door. ningning steps into the house, a meek smile playing on her face, eye-bags adorning her face, that still made her drop-dead gorgeous. the light illuminating her face only brought out her features more, making your heart skip.
"fuck, 'm sorry, work had be held back and—" before ningning could continue, your lips crash against her velvety lips. god, you could just sink yourself against ningning all day without a care in the world, and you'd be perfectly content with that. breathless, you mumble, "it's fine, don't worry ’bout it."
"c'mon, 's not fine; this is, like, the fourth time i've been late," ningning mutters, her lips against your ears, as you shake your head.
"it's whatever, ning, i promise. it's not like you haven't been late for the past few days anyway," you shrug, mumbling as though your words were merely casual. to ningning, it had practically stung like a bee, as the chinese girl allows for a sigh to drift from her lips, already with no attempts to conceal her distaste.
her eyebrows furrow, almost incredulously, "why are you acting like you haven't been just dismissing them and insisting it's fine if you're just gonna nitpick me on it?" she mutters sharply, displeasure flowing through the girl.
"why are you getting so irritated? all i did was just mention that you have been late for the week, so it's not that different from tonight, ning," you sigh, trying to be rational with the obviously exhausted girl. your hand moves to curl around her wrist, "just- just sleep, okay? you need it."
your attempts to soothe her irritation only drives her to become aggravated, as she runs a hand through her hair, meekly huffing. your hopes for the girl to just listen to your words and rest begin to shatter helplessly.
"fine, whatever,” ningning scoffs, annoyance burning through her skin, as she presses a chaste kiss against your forehead, not wanting her irritation to seep through to the point she wouldn't at least kiss you good night.
"g'night," you mumble against ningning's cheek, to which the chinese girl only nods, her ring-clad hand rubbing your shoulder, a stark contrast to her tense behavior.
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ning yizhuo was a busy girl—an extremely busy one, at that. she was a driven girl; she knew her goals, her wants, and she was adamant on achieving them.
and being driven meant attending conferences and rather unpleasant parties with the lingering smell of alcohol and cannabis, alongside whatever else was circulating inside the house, just to make connections.
"maybe we should leave, ning."
you reiterated once again, tugging the chinese girl by her arm mindlessly, sighs drifting from your lips. ningning stumbles against you, her hands meeting your chest to stabilize herself with a Yelp escaping her throat.
your hands snake around ningning's waist to keep her upright, "you're practically smelling like booze, ning. why don't we just call it a day?"
"no!" ningning huffs, her face buried against the crook of your neck, before a grin plays on her face, "i'm fine, i swear, baby."
with ningning's speech slurring, you couldn't help but feel wary of her drunken state. knowing how stubborn the girl was, you meekly nodded, pressing a kiss against her cheek, "'kay, just be careful, okay? call me if you need anythin'."
you followed the path towards the pool at the backyard of the penthouse, sitting down on the edge of it, with your knees hugging your chest. your eyes follow the heaps of people in the pool, the raucous noise of chatter growing louder.
"you alone?"
you turn to the guy beside you, an ear-to-ear smirk playing on his face, as he was wrapped in a towel with wet hair dripping to his lower back and onto the fabric. before you could reply, the boy situates himself next to you, his legs hanging off the edge of the pool.
nonetheless you nod, your head turnt back to the illuminating water. "not a talker, i suppose?" his head quirks up, meeting yours, his eyebrows furrowing, hoping that you'd at least have the courtesy to answer.
"not with a guy who is seemingly naked under a towel," you shrug, a chuckle escaping your breath. the guy lets out a giggle at the joke you spurred, making you stiffen.
"it's like 45 degrees here for god's sake," you huff, pondering on how the guy had seemed just so unfazed by the chilly weather, as if it was just regular ol' summer heat.
"i promise you that it's not that cold," he shrugs, and it was only now that you realized that ningning would give you an earful for even talking to the guy, but nonetheless, you shook the thought away, knowing that ningning was probably already corned by flirtatious men and women.
"sooo… you here alone, or with a friend or anything?" the guy drawls, his hands inching closer to yours, making you shudder.
"yeah, girlfriend," you mutter out, making the guy chuckle, "can't you give me an exception? after all, you're at a party."
before you could answer, you felt a slender hand slide over your neck and down to the exposed skin of your collarbones, making you squeal in surprise.
"shit, ning," you grunt, your hand curling around ningning's wrist, as you take a deep breath.
"who's this?" ningning takes a sharp tone, almost offended that you spent your time with another guy. her jaw clenches, and her nails practically dig into your collarbone—though, not enough to make you bleed, of course.
"i don't know, actually" you mumble, unsure, as your eyes flicker between them, watching them stare at each other. you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before the guy speaks up, "holy shit—you didn't tell me you were dating ning—"
ningning cuts him off, "and what about it?"
your eyes snap up to ningning with her glare directed at the other guy, as you suddenly stand up, dragging ningning to the street. before you could say anything, the chinese girl huffs, letting out a heavy breath.
"god, are you too stupid to see what was happening!" ningning looks at you like she was begging for you to understand what she was saying.
"i know, ning, but calm down—i shut him down anyway!" your brows furrow, as displeasure flows through you.
despite the rain droplets adorning your guys' skin, all ningning could focus on was the fact a guy was flirting with you—a good-for-nothing guy, who couldn't even take a hint.
"still- he was practically eye-fucking you—can't you see?" ningning's face darkens, her body growing more tense, as she steps closer to you.
you sigh, rubbing your temples, "ning—c'mon, i told him i had a girlfriend before you came," you desperately tried to reason with her.
ningning only crosses her arms against her chest, her voice slightly raising, "i don't care; he was still all up on you! sorry that i like my girlfriend to only myself!"
your expression crumbles, as you step towards the chinese girl, your hands cupping her jaw. "i know, c'mon, let's just… not argue, okay? i'm sorry, ning," you apologize, before pulling her down to your lips.
even with your drenched clothes against ningning's clothes, you couldn't help but press kisses against her lips with fervor. your hands were entangled in the girl's tresses, noses bumping occasionally. savoring the chaste kisses against ningning's velvety lips, your ears burn.
"you're forgiven, pretty girl," ningning drawls, her breath hitting your lips. the way the name just rolled off of her tongue smoothly had your knees bucking. you giggle at her drenched hair, your hands tucking the wet locks behind her ears.
maybe the heated arguments between the two of you was what kept you guys entangled within each other. after all, easy was boring.
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i think of her so much, it drives me crazy
i just don't want her to leave me
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agaypanic · 2 months ago
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His Good Girl (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader Smut)
Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3
Kinktober Day 3: Praise Kink
Summary: For your one hundredth wedding anniversary, Carlisle takes you to a cabin in the mountains away from your children and the prying eyes of Forks citizens. The days are beautiful, but the nights are far more pleasurable.
A/N: ignore that im posting day 3 on the 23rd…. Im so behind omfg ANYWAYS i know vampires technically cant get hard or probably cum or wtv bc they don’t have bloodflow but this is a kinktober fic so idgaf. i know a thousand years is in twilight soundtrack, but i like the song and think it fits so pretend it/christina perri exists in this universe. Tbh this feels more like a real fic than a kinktober fic (not saying kinktober fics aren’t real fics. I just feel like kinktober stuff really focuses on the sex/kink and i feel like this is more of a fluff that ends in smut)
C/W: oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (they're vampires so they cant get pregnant or diseases but wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, body worship, rough sex
***
“Carlisle, dear, I can pack my own suitcase.” But you did nothing to stop him from meticulously folding your clothes and putting them in your bag. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him work. 
Your husband looked up, a smile appearing on his lips. “And yet, you sit and watch me pack it for you.”
“What can I say?” You said with a shrug. “I like watching your skilled hands be put to work.”
“Oh really?” Carlisle seemed to suddenly forget the task he was previously so focused on. He walked over to you, letting the cold hands you loved so much cup your face gently. “Just wait for this weekend. Then you’ll really see how skillful they are.”
You giggle, pulling at his waist and leaning up to kiss him. “I can’t wait.”
It wasn’t long before you were finished loading up the car and ready to leave. Carlisle had to practically drag you away when your goodbyes with the kids went on a little too long. But you couldn’t help it. Not only did you love your children dearly, but you needed to give them all (mainly Emmett and Edward) to behave while you and Carlisle were gone. Although they were tremendously older than their young adult bodies, they sometimes acted just as recklessly as teenagers. 
The drive to the cabin was long and peaceful. Carlisle let you handle the music, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled at the sight of you passionately singing along with every song out of the corner of his eyes. 
You arrived in the afternoon, and your husband insisted on carrying your bags inside for you, allowing you to wander around the cabin you came to for special occasions. It followed a less modern aesthetic, mainly because getting a good internet connection so far from civilization was a little difficult. It reminded you of when you were first married to Carlisle.
“Why don’t you pick out a record?” Carlisle said from the bedroom, raising his voice a little so you could hear him down the hall, despite your enhanced hearing. 
You walked over to the small shelf that was filled to the brim with different genres and eras of music. You opted for something more modern, so you pulled out a Christina Perri vinyl and put it on the player.
The first track was one that you knew all too well, and it seemed Carlisle remembered it just as well when it hit his ears. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left the bedroom and approached you. When he got close enough to grab you, he started leading you in a slow dance around the living room. And when Christina sang about loving someone for a thousand years, Carlisle kissed you deeply before making a comment about how he couldn’t wait for the thousand-year mark.
***
When your anniversary came the next day, you and Carlisle didn’t do much. Besides being slightly more affectionate than usual and exchanging presents, it seemed like a normal day for you two. But you cherished it like any other day you spent with your husband. 
The only time Carlisle strayed from you today was to go outside and hunt for dinner. He came back in record time with two wine glasses filled with red liquid and a few smudges around his mouth that he let you kiss off. Ushering you to the couch in front of the lit fireplace, he handed you a glass and used his now free hand to hold you close to him.
“To you, my dear.” Carlisle toasted, holding his glass up to you.
“And to you, darling.” You added, clinking his cup with your own. “To a hundred years.”
“And a hundred more.”
Hours had passed without you knowing. You were too wrapped up in Carlisle’s presence, the way he stroked your arm while he listened to you talk about whatever came to your mind. 
Eventually, your glasses were empty, and Carlisle set them on the small table in front of you before cuddling you again. You leaned into his touch, breathing his scent in. “I love your hands.” You muttered against his neck. The hands in question were either holding yours or gently massaging you.
“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, and you nodded. “You wanna see what else they can do?”
It felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, you were straddling your husband and kissing him like you’d been starved for a hundred years. He kissed back with the same sentiment, hands roaming and groping your body.
Carlisle broke away the slightest bit to speak. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Without waiting for a response, he stood up, carrying you down the hall like it was nothing. You clung to him, kissing and lightly nipping at his neck.
When he reached the bedroom, Carlisle softly set you on the bed and started kissing you again. He towered over you, caging you in with his limbs.
But kissing, although very enjoyable, wasn’t enough for him. His hands started to roam again, and he began to play with the hem of your shirt. “May I?” He asked against your lips, and you nodded furiously. Carlisle peeled the shirt off of your body, and your bra was off soon after.
Without warning, he broke away from you. You were about to protest when his mouth latched onto your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned at the sensation, running a hand through his once pristine hair. He made sure to give the same treatment to the other.
“So beautiful.” He muttered, squeezing your tits with his hands and running his cold thumbs over your now stiff nipples. You mewled and arched your back. God, the things this man did to you. “So perfect.”
“Carlisle.” You whined. You couldn’t take anymore waiting, you needed him now. In desperation, you started moving your hips to try and rut against his thigh. He allowed it, giving attention to your breasts a little while longer while you used him to ease your need. But his thigh wasn’t enough. “Carlisle, come on.”
He looked up at you with a caring but mischievous look. “What’s the magic word?”
“Carlisle!”
“Nope.” The man smirked, slowly trailing kisses down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Come on, dear. Where are your manners?”
“Please!” You cried out.
Carlisle swiftly started to unbutton your pants, tugging them down your legs. “There’s my good girl.” The little nickname just made you even wetter. Carlisle took off your panties, leaving you entirely bare for him. He stared down at you, taking in the image. He sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
Ready to ravage you, Carlisle started to crawl on the bed towards you. But before he could get to the place he wanted most, you put your foot on his chest to stop him. A hand shot up to caress your ankle, and Carlisle started to worry that he was moving too fast for you without realizing it.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” You suggested, giggling at his sigh of relief. Carlisle dropped your foot and stood up again, stripping in front of you. He did so as fast as possible without using superspeed, knowing you were desperate for him but would still enjoy the show.
“Better?”
“Better.”
You sat up, his stiff cock now at your eyeline. You reached out, wanting to grasp it, suck it, whatever he would let you do.
But Carlisle grabbed your wrist. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, tone light enough to indicate that he wasn’t upset or serious.
“I want you to enjoy yourself.” You answer with a shrug. “It’s your anniversary too, you know.”
“You want me to enjoy myself?” He asked, gently pushing you until you were lying on your back. You nodded. “Then be a good girl and spread your legs.”
A tingle went down your spine at the command, and you immediately did as told. Carlisle grasped your ankles to keep your legs separated. He stared at your pussy, mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He inched closer to you, hands running up your legs.
He didn’t waste another second. Carlisle pushed at your thighs to bring them to your chest and dove into your pussy, licking a broad strip through your slit before latching onto your clit. He groaned at the taste of you, sending chilling vibrations through your body. One of his hands splayed out at the back of your knees to keep your legs up, and he used his now free hand to prod at your entrance.
“You’re so wet, honey.” He cooed as he slipped a finger in, soon adding another. Carlisle began fucking you slowly, hooking his fingers on your g-spot and flicking at your clit with his tongue.
“More.” You moaned, squeezing his fingers. “Want your cock, Carlisle.”
Your husband tsked, taking his mouth off of you but continuing his ministrations. “Not til you come on my fingers, Y/n. You know the rules. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You whined, wanting nothing more than to be stretched and filled to the brim by your husband’s cock. But it warmed your cold heart that he was still cautious with you. 
“Then make me come.” You begged.
Carlisle took it as a personal challenge to make you finish as quickly as possible. He usually liked to take his time with you, but you were desperate. So Carlisle quickened his pace, added a third finger, flicked and sucked at your clit, and soon enough you were falling apart. You stiffened and let out a choked moan as Carlisle helped you ride out your high.
While catching your breath, Carlisle withdrew his fingers from you and cleaned your juices off with his tongue. The sound that came from him was almost animalistic. He looked at you as if you were his prey. “You’re so delicious.” He said, licking the remnants of your cum off of his hand. The way he was looking down on you made you even wetter.
Usually, Carlisle liked to start nice and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size before he began ramming into you. But tonight, he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed himself, swiping the tip of his penis through your slick folds to collect more of your juices before prodding your entrance and bottoming out in one swift motion. 
Then he started fucking you.
You were beyond grateful that you were staying in a cabin in the middle of the mountains because if someone were around, they would’ve thought you were being murdered. The headboard banged against the wall with the force Carlisle was using to fuck you. He held onto the backs of your knees, keeping your legs pinned to your chest and giving you shocks of pleasure with every hard thrust.
It was all too much, but in the best way. Carlisle fucking you roughly at an angle that you knew would make it difficult to walk for a while, despite you usually being able to recover from rough sex quickly. With the way Carlisle was acting right now, his panting and almost growling sounds, and his nails digging into your skin, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied after one round.
“So good.” Carlisle groaned, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You pulled at Carlisle’s hair to try and ground yourself, but you were too far gone with the overwhelming pleasure. “Are you gonna come?”
“Uh-huh.” It came out as a high-pitched squeal, and Carlisle smiled.
“You can do it, honey.” While speaking, he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, pace as rough and furious as his thrusts. “Want you to come. Be a good girl for me; go ahead.” 
It was like Carlisle had some kind of control over your body. As soon as the words left his mouth, you found your release. It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had. You were a bit surprised that you didn’t accidentally pull out Carlisle’s hair from how hard you were gripping the strands.
Carlisle continued fucking you at his rough pace, making you shake and cry out in pleasure. He didn’t stop, seemingly very focused on now reaching his own peak. The way your cunt gripped his cock certainly helped, and not long after you, he was shooting ropes of cum inside you, keeping up his thrusts to fuck it into you.
When he came down from his high, his movements slowed to a stop. He delicately moved your legs off your chest to lay on the bed, massaging any possible sore spots he may have given you.
“Was I too rough?” He asked, seemingly in a clearer headspace now.
You shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. “I liked it.” Carlisle sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss you. “Maybe we can do it again? Like, now?”
He laughed at your eagerness. “How about in five minutes?” He wrapped you up in his arms before flipping you over so you were lying on his chest. His cock was still hard inside you, filling you nicely. “I want to lay with my wife for a while.”
“I won’t argue with that.” You said, snuggling into Carlisle’s bare chest. “Happy anniversary, Carlisle.”
“Happy anniversary, Y/n.”
***
Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff
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hwamphwamp · 3 months ago
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i wished for you // choi jongho
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a/n: meant to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and wouldn't you know it, I forgot every time I thought about it. I wrote this sappy shit while taking one of the longest baths of my life today so enjoy!
genre: fluff
word count: 848
warnings: none really outside of the mention of alcohol/being drunk? a little lovesick bullshit here?? a little self-indulgent fluff there???
———————————————————————————
It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home from work to find a voicemail from Jongho waiting for you. In fact, the two of you had been engaged in a playful game of voicemail tag for the past week and a half, navigating the challenges of time differences and your hectic schedules. Yet, even though you would have preferred to hear his voice directly, there was something comforting about receiving those little snippets of him—like a sweet surprise at the end of a long, dreary day.
Most of his voicemails were usually straightforward—brief updates about his day, questions about yours, the usual exchanges that kept you connected across the miles. But tonight’s voicemail was much different.
“Ok, so I know we just got to the point of saying ‘I love you’ recently,” he began, a playful tone to his voice as though he was already aware of how this might sound. "So I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’m a weeeee bit drunk." You could picture him grinning sheepishly, the way he always did when he was nervous or about to say something he thought might make you laugh. He continued, “And when the guys had me blow out the candles on my cake tonight, I wished for you."
You paused when you heard those words. "I wished for you." It sounded so simple, but it carried a weight you weren’t expecting. He already had you—what more could he wish for? The thought lingered for a moment before he quickly clarified, his tone a little softer now, a touch more serious.
"Not like... I didn't actually wish FOR you. I already have you, duh." You couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the playful roll of his eyes as he said it. "But I wished for you to always be with me, which is so stupid because I know you could never just drop everything and run around the world with me." His voice dipped slightly, as if he was wrestling with the reality of the situation, acknowledging how far-fetched his wish really was. And yet, there was something so genuine about the way he said it, something so heartfelt that it made your chest tighten.
He paused for a moment, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts or maybe second-guessing whether he should keep going, but then he pushed on. “But still, I wished that by some miracle we could just be alone together for the rest of our lives.”
That’s when the weight of his words really sank in. He wasn’t just talking about wanting you by his side during the fun, easy moments. He was talking about the kind of deep, unwavering connection where nothing—no job, no obligation, no distance—could ever come between you. It was the kind of wish you made when you’re so completely in love with someone that you can’t imagine a life without them.
In his slightly tipsy, vulnerable state, he was letting you in on something raw and real: the dream of having you all to himself, of being able to live in a world where it was just the two of you, free from the chaos of everyday life. It was the kind of wish that, while impossible, was filled with so much love and longing that it made your heart ache a little. He knew it wasn’t realistic—he even said so—but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it anyway. There was something achingly romantic about that.
Then came the part that made you smile the most: “Did that make sense?” You could practically hear him blushing on the other end of the line, embarrassed by how open he had just been, how he had let his guard down completely. And before you could even process everything he’d said, he wrapped it up with a quick, “It’s ok, love you, goodnight,” like he needed to get the last few words out before his courage faded.
That voicemail—just a simple, drunken message—felt like you were getting to peek through a window that lead straight to his heart. It wasn’t just about the words “I love you” that you’d both recently started saying; it was about the kind of love that made him wish, without hesitation, that you could always be together. His wish wasn’t about material things or fleeting moments. It was about living a life where it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.
Sure, he laughed it off a bit, tried to make it seem like it was no big deal, but you knew better. There was something so sincere, so deeply affectionate in his words that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as you listened. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking—this was him, unfiltered, admitting that he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, and wishing that somehow, you’d never have to be apart.
No matter what, you were determined to make his birthday wish a reality. After all, it was your wish too, and you’d tell him that as soon as his hangover subsided the next day.
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jinnie-ret · 1 year ago
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scarred knees and insecurities
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Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader
genre: hurt/comfort
content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments
word count: 2.7k
summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.
100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.
As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.
"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.
"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"
She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.
Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.
What's wrong with her knees
Ew but why do they look like that
Their knees look so old and wrinkly
Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural
Just another reason why she's ugly
Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.
Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is
Disgusting?
Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.
"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.
She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.
Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.
It was Hyunjin.
"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.
"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.
She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.
"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.
Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.
"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.
"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.
He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.
A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...
Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.
"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.
"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.
"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.
What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.
Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.
"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.
"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.
"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.
"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.
Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.
"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.
"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.
"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.
"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.
"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.
"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.
"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.
"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.
Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.
Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.
"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.
But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.
"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.
"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.
"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.
"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.
One second.
One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.
Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.
"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.
"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.
It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.
"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.
"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.
"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.
They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.
"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.
Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.
Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.
"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.
Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.
"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.
"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.
"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.
"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.
"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.
"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.
"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.
"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.
"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.
"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.
"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.
"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.
"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.
"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.
"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.
"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.
"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.
"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.
"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.
"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.
"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.
"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.
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mononijikayu · 5 months ago
Text
ligaya — itadori yuuji.
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“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!” Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?” Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?” Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Hugging, Track and Field! Yuuji, Pole Vaulter! Reader;
WORDS: 5.3k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i got the idea for this after i kept seeing olympic couples and olympians and their partners just be the epitome of love in paris. itadori yuuji just felt perfect for something like this. and so does the song ligaya by eraserheads. anyway, i love you all!!! ill see you guys on together. that's about to get sad, but im not sure if it will have sad smut. we shall see~
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if you want to, tip! <3
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
IF HE SPOKE TO HIS CHILD SELF, HE WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Because, how can he explain it? Him? The Itadori Yuuji— head over heels in love. It felt like a fever dream that can only come from fantasies. How could he be in love at all?
How did this even happen? When he swore that he didn’t need that in his life? Over doing his track practice? More than his mother’s food? He thinks that his younger self would have ended up with a coma. Hell, maybe Todo or his brothers — even Uncle Sukuna would be in shock.
Itadori Yuuji never imagined himself as the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels in love. Sure, he was friendly, enthusiastic, and had a smile for just about everyone, but love? It seemed like an impossible notion.
Perhaps an even more ridiculous thing. A feeling that was not for him, not in that way most people dream of. That was for other people, is what he always said—until you transferred into his department. 
The moment Yuuji first laid eyes on you, it was like the world around him faded into the background, leaving only you and the pole vault. He had seen countless athletes, witnessed incredible feats of strength and agility, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you.
The way you moved, your body soaring through the air with effortless grace, made it seem like defying gravity was just second nature to you. To him, it was like watching poetry in motion—a dance between you and the sky.
Something inside him shifted as he watched you clear the bar with ease, your landing smooth and controlled, as if you had done it a thousand times before. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pull, a deep, unexplainable connection that made his heart race. You were different—strong, confident, and so completely at ease in your own skin.
It wasn’t just your athleticism that drew him in, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way you seemed to own every moment, how you faced challenges head-on, your eyes always focused on the next goal. There was a fire in you, a determination that Yuuji couldn’t help but admire.
He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to you, why his heart beat a little faster whenever you were near. All he knew was that something had changed, like a switch had been flipped inside him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in deep—so deep that there was no going back.
It was as though he had never truly seen the sun before that moment, like he had been wandering through life in a shadowy half-light, only to look up at you, soaring above the earth, and finally see the full brilliance of day. You were the sun, radiating warmth and light, and for the first time, Yuuji felt truly alive.
So, Yuuji did what he did best—he jumped in with both feet, headfirst and heart open, determined to win you over. It was how he approached everything in life, with boundless energy and optimism, believing that if he just gave it his all, anything was possible. He didn’t hesitate to show you how much you meant to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve, unafraid to make grand gestures.
He showed up at your practices, cheering you on, even when you barely acknowledged him. He left notes in your locker, little reminders that he was thinking of you, that he was rooting for you, no matter what. He even stood outside your dorm window one night, singing a goofy love song, hoping to make you smile.
But you kept saying no.
Each time, you turned him down, politely but firmly. You appreciated his efforts, you said, but you were focused on your sport, on your goals. There wasn’t room for distractions, and you couldn’t afford to let anyone—no matter how sweet or determined—get in the way of what you were trying to achieve.
Yuuji understood, or at least he tried to. But it didn’t make it any easier. Every “no” felt like a small cut, stinging just a bit more than the last. But despite the rejection, Yuuji couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something about you, something that kept pulling him back, making him want to try again, to prove that he could be the one to make you happy.
And it wasn’t the kind of no that meant “maybe later” or “try harder,” it was a clear, polite, and definitive no. You were kind about it, of course, always smiling and thanking him for the effort, but Yuuji could see through it. Because that’s who you were. You were sunshine itself.
And so each time, even if it became repetitive, you smiled at him and treated him kindly. Even though you weren’t interested, you were interested in being his friend and perhaps, he could live with that. But something in him, the most honest part of him knew that he couldn’t let go. 
Each time you turned him away, Yuuji felt the sting, but he also felt the same determination rising within him. He wasn’t discouraged; he was driven. He saw each rejection as a challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, much like the ones he faced on the track.
And just like in his races, he wasn’t going to back down until he crossed the finish line. To Yuuji, it wasn’t about winning you over for the sake of it—it was about showing you that someone could care that much, that deeply, and that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always get back up. Because to him, you were worth every effort, every bruise, and every tear.
Today here he was, sitting in the school’s café, his head on the table, groaning as Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki sat across from him, trying their best to look patient. They were supposed to be working on their on class presentation for Cardiorespiratory Fitness by now, but with Yuuji being an utter lovestruck mess — his two friends were sure that they wouldn’t be able to get any work done.
“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!”
Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?”
Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?”
Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Love? Yuuji, that’s pretty heavy. Are you sure it’s love?”
Yuuji nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I think I really do. I just want to be part of their world, you know? Make them happy, love them. I’d even help with their thesis if that’s what it takes! And that says a lot, because we’re on different levels! They’re smarter!”
Nobara rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You can’t make someone love you, Yuuji. Maybe you should back off a bit and just be their friend. They might appreciate that more.”
Yuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping as he thought about it. The idea of stepping back, of not doing everything he could to win you over, made his heart ache. He had poured so much of himself into trying to make you see how much he cared, but maybe Nobara was right.
“But what if they never see me as more than that?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What if I’m just that annoying guy who keeps bothering them?”
Nobara softened at his vulnerability. She wasn’t used to seeing Yuuji like this—so unsure, so worried. “Yuuji, you’re not annoying. Well, not more than usual.” she said, her tone gentler than before.
"Hey!"
“But listen, you’re sweet, and anyone can see how much you care. But sometimes, people need space. They need time to figure out their own feelings without any pressure. If you really care about them, you’ll give them that space.”
Yuuji nodded slowly, but the doubt lingered. He had always been the type to go all in, to give everything he had to the people he cared about. Holding back didn’t come naturally to him. “I just don’t want to lose them.” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
Megumi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his tone measured and calm. “Yuuji, you won’t lose them by giving them space. In fact, it might be what they need to see you in a different light. But you have to be patient, and you have to respect their choice.”
Yuuji looked at Megumi, searching his friend’s eyes for reassurance. “But what if they never change their mind? What if they never see me the way I see them?”
Megumi leaned forward, his gaze steady and full of understanding. “Then you have to accept that.” he said firmly. “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force someone to feel something they don’t. If they ever change their mind, they’ll let you know. But until then, don’t push too hard. It’ll only make things worse.”
Yuuji absorbed Megumi’s words, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest. He knew Megumi was right—it wasn’t fair to push you into something you weren’t ready for, or maybe something you didn’t want at all. But the thought of just being your friend, of stepping back, felt like giving up on something he wanted more than anything.
Nobara reached out, placing a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes, being a good friend is more important than trying to be something more. If you really care about them, you’ll be there for them, no matter what. And who knows? Maybe that’s what they need to realize how special you are.”
Yuuji looked between his two friends, their words sinking in. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was the right one. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll back off… but I won’t stop caring.”
Megumi nodded approvingly. “That’s all you can do, Yuuji. Just be yourself, and let them come to you if they’re ready.”
Nobara smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”
Yuuji managed a small smile, the weight in his chest easing just a little. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.” 
Nobara nodded approvingly, while Megumi gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Yuuji might have been hopelessly in love, but at least he was starting to understand that sometimes, the best way to love someone was to let them come to you in their own time. And he’ll be patient. He knows how to do that. His brother Choso taught him how to be. 
As they continued to sit together, Yuuji couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and uncertainty. He didn’t know what the future held, but he was grateful for friends who would support him through it all. For now, he’d focus on being the best friend he could be. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. It had to be. He believes it to be.
Over the next few days, Yuuji did his best to dial things back. He still watched you from afar during practice, his heart skipping a beat every time you cleared the bar with that effortless grace. But instead of approaching you with grand gestures or serenades, he tried to be more subtle, more considerate. 
He’d offer a friendly wave when you caught his eye and cheer you on quietly during your pole vaulting sessions. Every now and then, he’d strike up casual conversations, asking how your day was going or chatting about track and field events. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time he saw you, he had to fight the urge to blurt out how he felt, to tell you that all he wanted was to be with you. 
One afternoon, you were sitting on a bench after practice, cooling down and scrolling through your phone when Yuuji approached you cautiously. He noticed that you seemed a little tired, maybe even a bit stressed.
“Hey.” he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. “How’s it going? You look like you could use a break.”
You glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Been working on my thesis, and it’s been kind of a headache.”
Yuuji’s eyes lit up. This was it—an opportunity to help you without being too pushy. “Really? What’s it about? Maybe I could help somehow?”
You hesitated for a moment, and Yuuji’s heart raced, hoping you wouldn’t shut him down again. But then you sighed and leaned back on the bench. “It’s about the biomechanics of pole vaulting, actually. I’m trying to analyze different techniques and how they affect performance, but the data’s all over the place.”
Yuuji nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying rather than the fact that you were actually talking to him about something important. “That sounds tough. But hey, I’m pretty good at organizing stuff—maybe I could help you sort through the data or something?”
To his surprise, you didn’t immediately say no. Instead, you looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. “You really want to help?”
“Of course!” Yuuji said quickly, not wanting to sound too eager but failing miserably. “I mean, only if you want me to. I don’t want to, you know, be a bother.”
You chuckled softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “Alright, Yuuji. I could use an extra pair of eyes on this. But just so you know, it’s going to be boring. Like, really boring.”
Yuuji grinned, feeling a surge of hope. “Boring’s fine with me. As long as I can help you out.”
Over the next few weeks, you and Yuuji spent more time together, working on your thesis. He was true to his word—organizing data, making notes, and offering encouragement whenever you hit a rough patch. He didn’t push his feelings, didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he focused on being there for you, just as Megumi and Nobara had suggested.
And as time went on, you started to see a different side of Yuuji. He wasn’t just the guy who sang outside your window or left notes in your locker. He was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in your work. He made you laugh, and he always seemed to know when you needed a break or a bit of encouragement.
One evening, after hours of working on your thesis, you were utterly exhausted. The words on the screen blurred together, your eyes heavy with sleep. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.
Yuuji, who had been quietly organizing some of your research papers, noticed the slump in your shoulders and the tired sigh that escaped your lips. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you.
“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”
You shook your head, trying to muster the energy to keep going. “I can’t. I still have so much to do, and the deadline is coming up fast.”
Yuuji crouched down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “I know, but you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this. Just a short break, okay? I’ll make you some tea, and we can relax for a bit.”
Before you could protest, Yuuji was already in the kitchen, brewing a pot of your favorite tea. You watched him move with practiced ease, grateful for his presence. When he returned, he handed you a steaming mug and smiled. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.”
You took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your hands, and let out a tired sigh. “Thanks, Yuuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Yuuji’s smile softened as he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. I’m here to help. And right now, you need to rest.”
He gently guided you to the couch, where you reluctantly settled down, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. Yuuji sat beside you, his presence comforting and reassuring. As you sipped your tea, the tension in your body began to ease, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.
Yuuji noticed the way you were fighting to stay awake, and with a soft chuckle, he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. “It’s okay if you want to close your eyes for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You looked at him, his warm eyes and gentle smile, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore. The stress that had been weighing you down seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Maybe just for a little while, you know?” you mumbled, already feeling yourself drifting off.
Yuuji nodded, watching as your eyes slowly closed, your breathing evening out as sleep took over. He stayed by your side, keeping watch as you slept, ready to offer support the moment you needed it. And as he looked at you, peaceful and relaxed, he felt a deep sense of contentment. This was all he wanted—to be there for you, to make sure you were okay, to be part of your world in whatever way you would allow.
As the evening turned into night, Yuuji gently adjusted the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing beside him, and smiled to himself. He didn’t need anything else. As long as he could be there for you, that was enough.
When you woke up the next morning, your eyes fluttered softly against the sunlight streaming in through the window. You felt warmth beside you, and as you turned your head, inches away was Itadori Yuuji, still fast asleep. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
For a moment, you just watched him, taking in the peaceful expression on his face. You’d never noticed before how calm and serene everything felt when he was around. It was as if all the chaos in your mind quieted just by being near him.
A soft sigh escaped your lips, almost one of relief. You were glad that it was him—that he was the one who stayed with you, who was always there. This sweet angel, who had gone out of his way to support you, to make sure you were okay.
“I might as well cook you some breakfast.” you whispered to yourself, smiling at the thought. You carefully stood up, making sure not to wake him. As you passed by him, you couldn’t resist letting your fingers brush lightly through his fuchsia hair. “You worked hard, Yuuji.” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.
You made your way to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of his presence still wrapping around you. As you started preparing breakfast, the sound of sizzling eggs and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft rustling from the couch, followed by a sleepy yawn.
Yuuji appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably tousled. When he saw you, a bashful smile spread across his face, and his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Good….morning.” he greeted you timidly, still half-asleep.
You turned to him, returning his smile. “Good morning, Yuuji. Did at least manage to sleep somewhat okay?”
He nodded, his gaze drifting to the breakfast you were preparing. “Yeah, I did. Thanks… for everything.”
You set down the spatula and walked over to him, your heart warming at his shy demeanor. “No, Yuuji, thank you…..” you said earnestly, your eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me with everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Yuuji’s blush deepened, and he quickly waved off your gratitude as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I could help.”
You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “It’s not nothing, Yuuji. It’s a big deal to me. You’ve been here, doing all this because… because you’re a good person. And I know it’s also because you like me.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, you continued, your voice growing softer, more vulnerable. “I… I feel something for you too, Yuuji. I didn’t realize it before, but… I do. It’s just… I want to take things slow.”
You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what he would say, or how he would react, but you needed to be honest with him.
Yuuji stood there for a moment, processing your words. Then, a gentle smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with warmth. “I understand.” he said quietly. He reached out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m just happy to know you feel something for me too.”
You looked up at him, relief and happiness washing over you. His hand in yours was warm, comforting, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. “Thank you, Yuuji,” you whispered.
He shook his head, still smiling. “No, thank you. For letting me be part of your world.”
As you stood there, holding hands in the morning light, the aroma of breakfast filling the air, everything felt just right. There was no rush, no pressure—just the promise of something real, something that could grow into something beautiful, one step at a time.
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
YOU MADE IT THE OLYMPICS, THE TWO OF YOU. The day you found out you had qualified for the Olympics felt like a dream. All the hard work, the long hours of training, the sacrifices—it had all paid off. You were going to the Olympics. And as if the universe had planned it, Yuuji had qualified too, in track and field. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything you’d both worked so hard for. 
But what you hadn’t expected was the way your feelings for Yuuji would grow, almost as if they were catching up to the realization that he had been right there beside you all along.
You admired his determination, his relentless positivity, but you kept your distance, unsure if you could let someone in when you were so focused on your goals. Yet, Itadori Yuuji never wavered. He was at every pole vault tournament, even the ones miles away, often booking tickets last minute just to make sure he was there.
Even if he has to move around stuff for his own practice, even if he had other projects he had to do. It didn't matter. He wanted to be there. He wanted to go and see you and cheer you on. And every time, without fail, whether you won or lost, he would be in the front row, holding flowers and a letter, his bright smile shining through the crowd. 
At first, you didn’t know how to react. How does one manage to, when such devoted acts are offered to you so genuinely, in front of the world? How would one function, when there’s so much love given by one person that it could fill the world with pints of it. You were touched, truly. But of course I was also confused. You could feel your palms sweaty, when he tries to take your hand to hold. Or when he smiles, you feel like you have butterflies in your tummy. 
Was this really just a crush for him? What are crushes supposed to be like? You don’t think you remember. The last time you had a crush, it was on a 2D anime character. And that’s not a real experience. Or was it something more? You had to think it through. You care about him deeply, you do. But what do you actually feel for him? What does he actually mean to you? What is he to you?
Over time, though, as you saw how much he truly cared—not just about you as an athlete, but as a person—you started to see him differently. You noticed how he never pressured you, how he respected your space, but always made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what.
You began to anticipate his presence at your tournaments, looking forward to seeing his face in the crowd. His letters, filled with words of encouragement and affection, became something you treasured, often reading them late at night when you needed a boost.
And then, one day, as you stood on the podium after a particularly grueling tournament, looking out into the crowd, your eyes locked with Yuuji’s. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his smile as radiant as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of pride, love, and unwavering support—that made your heart skip a beat. 
In that moment, you realized that you had fallen for him. 
It wasn’t just his persistence or his kindness; it was the way he made you feel seen and valued, both on and off the field. He didn’t just love you for your achievements—he loved you for who you were, even when you were at your lowest. And that was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.
After the ceremony, you found Yuuji waiting for you, just like he always did. He handed you the flowers, a bashful smile on his face. “You were amazing out there, you know!” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But you always are.”
You took the flowers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the compliments. “Thanks, Yuuji.” you said softly, looking up at him. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you’re always here.”
His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the shift in your tone. “You don’t have to thank me, pretty.” he said quickly. “I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? I care about you. A lot.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the words you’d been holding back finally rise to the surface. “I know. And I care about you too, Yuuji. More than I realized.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you were saying. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—one of pure, unfiltered joy. “Really?”
You smiled back, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Really. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Yuuji.”
His reaction was immediate—he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet as he spun you around, laughing like he’d just won the lottery. When he finally set you down, he looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart flutter. 
“I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long!” he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion. “But it was worth it. Every single second. You will always be worth it. All of it.”
As you stood there, surrounded by the noise of the crowd and the smell of fresh flowers, you realized that your dream had come true in more ways than one. You had qualified for the Olympics, yes, but you had also found something even more precious—someone who loved you for who you were, someone who would stand by your side no matter what. And as you leaned in to kiss Yuuji, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.
 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。
epilogue 
The energy at the Olympic Stadium was electric, buzzing with anticipation as the final race approached. You sat in the stands, surrounded by a sea of spectators, but your focus was entirely on the track below. Itadori Yuuji stood at the starting line, his gaze steady, his body coiled like a spring ready to launch.
You knew how much this race meant to him—how much he’d poured into his training, how every ounce of his determination was about to be unleashed in those few, crucial seconds.
The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, signaling the start, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in sync with the cheers around you. Then, the gun fired, and Yuuji shot forward, a blur of speed and power. The crowd roared, but you were barely aware of it, your eyes locked on him, silently urging him on.
He moved like lightning, his form perfect, his strides long and powerful. You could see the intensity in his every movement, the sheer will driving him forward. As he rounded the final bend, you knew—he was going to do it. He was going to break the world record.
The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Yuuji crossed the finish line, the clock stopping at a time that stunned everyone. A world record. Yuuji had just shattered it.
But even before the cheers had fully erupted, Yuuji’s eyes were scanning the stands, searching for you. The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the cameras, the officials, and the chaos around him, he sprinted toward you, leaping over the barrier with ease.
And then he was there, in front of you, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a passion that took your breath away. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mixture of disbelief and pure joy. He laughed, a sound filled with triumph and love, and then he threw his arms up in the air, shouting, “I did it! I did it! I’ve got you and a medal! This is the best day of my life, oh my god!"
The crowd around you erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could focus on was Yuuji—his infectious energy, the way his hands were still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe you were real. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, tears of joy filling your eyes.
“You did it, Yuuji!” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. “Babe, you broke the world record. I’m so proud of you.”
He grinned, pulling you close again, this time resting his forehead against yours. “None of this would’ve meant anything without you here. You’re the one I wanted to share this with. You’re my everything, pretty.”
Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it clear just how much this moment—and you—meant to him. 
“I love you, Yuuji.” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands.
“I love you too.” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And this… this is just the beginning. We’ve got so much more to look forward to—together.”
As you stood there, holding each other amidst the chaos and celebration of the Olympic Stadium, you knew that you had found something far greater than any medal or record.
You had found the person who would stand by your side, through every challenge and triumph, the one who had captured your heart with his unwavering love and dedication. And as Yuuji lifted you off the ground, spinning you around with pure, uncontainable joy, you realized that you had truly won in every way that mattered.
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