#i tried really hard to get every little detail

[myth1cs]

Formula of Love (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Starting off the new year with Mina.

Word Count: 2,895

"Alright class I'll start handing back your tests."

"Y/N what do you think you got on the test?"

"I don't know Dahyun. I didn't really understand this unit."

Mina came up to your desk and handed your test upside down.

"I got an A plus Y/N! How about you?"

You turned your test over and saw your grade. "A 76%"

"So close, only a few points away from getting a B."

"I know, I'll do better on the unit exam. It's in 2 weeks right?"

"Actually it's this Friday."

"This Friday?! I'll have to ask Mrs. Myoui for help after class ends."

"Want me to wait for you?"

You and Dahyun were great friends and would walk back home together every day. On the days either you or Dahyun got sick then both of you would face time in order to still get the same experience as if the other was there.

Usually you would say yes but you didn't want to make Dahyun wait long on the occasion that you would talk to Mina for a prolonged period of time.

"No, you can go ahead and walk home. I might be talking with Mrs. Myoui for a while."

"Are you sure? We never walk home without each other."

"I'm positive."

"Alright fine."

Dahyun seemed a bit upset at your decision. But you tried to overlook it.

Class ended and Dahyun gave you a wave before she left.

"Is there something I can help you with Y/N?"

You looked at Mina and hesitated to talk with her. You were never on good terms with any teacher and Mina was no different. She wasn't a strict teacher per say but she wasn't lenient.

"Mrs. Myoui can you help me with the names of bones?"

"You want me to tutor you?"

"Yeah ... should I not?"

"No it's not that. It's just that no student has ever asked me to tutor them. You're the first, but let's not get into the details I'm more than happy to help you. So what are you struggling with?"

"I just don't think that staring at a diagram that lists the names is really helping me. Is there any other way you could teach me?"

Mina sat in her chair thinking for a moment.

An idea came into her head and you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. Though the air conditioner wasn't on high and the windows weren't open so you weren't sure exactly what caused it.

Mina got up from her chair and stood behind you. "Maybe it'll help you if I point it to it on you. Are you okay with that?"

The thought of having your teacher have her hands on you made your cock a little hard. You shifted your legs to cover it so Mina wouldn't notice.

"Y-yeah that's fine."

Mina hummed at your answer and placed her hands on you. Her hands roamed your body initially which elicited a low whimper from you. She took notice and smiled to herself.

"Alright let's start Y/N. You feel where my finger is now? That's your frontal bone, and this right here is your temporal bone."

"Mhm I understand."

"That's good."

Her hands slid down your body slowly. You started fidgeting with your hands trying your best to keep explicit thoughts away. She is your teacher after all you shouldn't be having such thoughts.

Mina wasn't stupid, she knew what exactly what she was doing. She was attracted to you since you first walked into the classroom at the beginning of the year. But you were her student and she was your teacher so she never acted on it.

But whenever she saw you always talking with Dahyun every day she got jealous. She started trying to get you away from her "Y/N why don't you work with Felix today?" she asked you once. You gave her the response of "Me and Dahyun always work together." ever since she's been trying to get you to herself but she has never found a good opportunity. Until Now.

"Y/N this is your sternum got it?"

"Yes."

She enjoyed watching you act this way. Your body betrayed you, it reacted with every touch she made on you. And she was getting a kick out of it.

Mina positioned herself closer to you to the point that you could feel her hot breath on you. Her lips extremely close to your ears brushing them occasionally.

She grabbed your hand "Do you feel this part of your wrist? They're called the carpal bones. And these are your metacarpal bones. Maybe feeling them on someone else would help, try feeling my hand."

It was a sloppy excuse. She just wanted you to hold her hand and she knew she was taking a risk with this. If you reported her to the administration she would get fired. If she was really unlucky she might get a charge against her.

However you were starting to catch feelings for your teacher and took her up on that offer. Reaching out your hand for Mina's you felt around her hands.

"They're so soft."

"What was that Y/N?"

She heard exactly what you said.

"N-nothing."

"Know what this bone is called?"

"The thumbs distal phalanx?"

"Correct, you're really proficient at this."

"Thank you Mrs. Myoui."

Mina wanted to take the situation to the next level. But she was still in school, it was to risky to further the current situation. She needed to get you out of the school.

"Why don't we continue this at my home?"

"You want me to go to your house?"

"Yeah, school will close soon and I want to continue this tutoring session."

"Th - that's fine."

You were a bit turned on by the thought of your teacher inviting you to her house. Mina saw the hunger in your eyes and wasn't going to miss her chance of doing more with you.

She wrote down her address and a piece of paper and handed it to you. "This is where I live, come over at five."

You nodded and headed out of the classroom. As you left school you saw Dahyun.

"Y/N! I was wondering when you would show up. What took so long?"

"Dahyun?! I thought I told you to go home without me."

"I know but I wasn't about to break tradition. What's on the paper you're holding?"

"Nothing! Come on let's just walk home."

-

It was almost time for you to go over to Mina's house. You told your parents that you were going to hang out at Dahyun's house.

"This should be the place." You double checked the address and made sure you were at Mina's house. And indeed you were.

Stepping up and knocking on the door you waited while fidgeting with your fingers.

After a few seconds the door opened "Y/N glad you could make it. Come in and sit on the couch."

It felt weird being at your teachers house but as long as it was with Mina you weren't complaining.

"Before we continue where we left off do you want anything? Maybe some food?"

You were hungry but you didn't want to bother Mina.

"I'm fine really."

Just as you said that your stomach growled.

"Don't be like that Y/N. I insist, let me make you something."

"No seriously-"

"I'm making you an omelette with ketchup."

You sighed, there was no changing her mind "Fine."

Mina went to the kitchen and started making you food while you sat on the couch unsure of what you should be doing.

"Come here to the kitchen Y/N. You can talk to me while I cook you your food."

Making your way to the kitchen you stood next to Mina.

"So are you keeping your grades up in your other classes Y/N?"

"Yes Mrs. Myoui, it's stressful but I manage."

"Drop the Mrs. Myoui it's too formal. While we're outside of school you can call me Mina."

"No really I shouldn't."

"Please Y/N just do it." She grabbed your face and made you look at her in the eyes.

"Call me Mina."

Her eyes mesmerized you. Looking at her face made you feel hot and it took all your will power to not look at her lips.

"Okay ... Mina."

"See isn't that so much better?"

"Mhm"

She took her hands off you which made you a little disappointed. She went back to cooking an omelette for you.

It took only a few minutes before she finished cooking your food. Putting it on the table for you to eat.

"Here's the ketchup Y/N."

"Thank you, Mina."

You poured the ketchup on your omelette and started to eat it.

"You're a great cook Mina."

"Thank you Y/N. To be honest I kind of winged it."

As you were eating you noticed that Mina stopped talking. You looked over at her to see her leaning on her hand staring at you. When she noticed that you figured out that she was staring at you she quickly pretended to get on her phone.

You weren't much of a confrontational person yourself so you didn't bring it up.

After you finished you got up to wash your plate but Mina stopped you.

"No Y/N I'll get it for you."

"Well I'm the guest so I shouldn't bother you."

"Well your my guest so I should be the one making sure your comfortable and feel welcomed so I should be taking care of you."

She snatched the plate out of your hands and went to the sink to wash it.

After she finished washing your plate she led you back to the living room to resume her tutoring session.

"Are you ready Y/N?"

"I'm ready."

Once again putting her hands back on your body you felt your heartbeat faster.

"You feel this Y/N? This part of your forearm is called the ulna, and this is called the radius."

She moved her hands to a spot more dangerous. They were extremely close to your cock and you were scared she would notice you getting hard.

"This part of your hip bone is the ilium."

Her hands were now pushed up against your cock.

"Around this area is where your sacrum is."

Your breath was getting heavy. You were imagining the most erotic things in your mind and your bulge was becoming more and more visible.

"Mina I get it, can you move your hand."

"But I'm not done yet Y/N I still have more to teach you."

"I already understand it."

"Getting a refresher wouldn't hurt."

Mina decided to be a little bold and put her hand around your cock.

"You're taking health class right?"

"Yes."

"What was this part of the male body called? I forgot."

"T-th-the penis."

"You're also learning about the female body right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you understand it?"

"Well ... not really but I'm learning."

"How would you feel if I helped you with learning about the female body?"

"But I thought you were going to teach me about the names of the bones in the body."

"I'm a teacher so I should teach you about everything you need help with."

"Oh okay."

"I'll take off my clothes so you can see it for yourself. You're okay with it right?"

"That's fine."

Mina started to strip off her clothes. It was slow and if you didn't know any better you would say she was trying to tease you with her body. But your teacher Mina wouldn't do such a thing ... right?

She took off her shirt and pants leaving her in just her bra and panties. You stared at her bare body for a bit but quickly turned away.

"Look at me Y/N. It's the best way to learn, you can't learn if you don't look."

Hesitantly, you turned to Mina. She looked you in the eyes and smiled at you before she continued stripping.

She tossed her bra and panties at you. You flinched as you felt them touch you but more importantly you couldn't take your eyes off the body off your teacher.

Her breasts, body, those eyes everything attracted you to her.

"You should also strip two Y/N."

"But Mina-"

"Do it for me."

Well who are you to disobey her? You listened to her and stripped off your clothing. Your clothed cock popped out from its constraints.

Mina licked her lips.

She walked over to you and grabbed her breasts. "These are breasts, go ahead and feel them."

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to but part of you didn't want to believe that this was real.

"Are you sure?"

"Go ahead Y/N this is for your education."

Taking your hands and placing them on Mina's breasts you felt how soft they were. You kneaded them brushing your thumbs over her sensitive nipples making her let out a low moan.

"Ah~ keep going Y/N."

You kept going at it. Continuously squishing them and molding them how you wanted. It made you extremely hard. You didn't want to stop there though so you decided to put your face up to her breasts and felt the softness across your face.

Unable to help yourself you licked her breast. You licked so much they were sopping wet, you licked everywhere and you felt Mina shudder every time you licked her nipples.

"So good keep going darling."

"Mina you taste amazing."

"Darling while I'm 'teaching' you privately, call me mommy."

"You want me to call you mommy?"

"Yes darling if you do I'll give you bonus points on your unit exam."

"Yes mommy."

Mina pushed you further into her breast turned on by the word you called her. It wasn't just that though she was also being turned on by the idea of fucking her student knowing she could be punished for this if she was ever caught doing so but she didn't care at the moment. The only thing on her mind at the moment was having some amazing sex.

Your hands reached to Mina's butt and squished her flesh.

"Darling do your hands have a different idea?"

You simply nodded at her.

"May I fuck your ass mommy?"

"Since you asked nicely I'll let you do whatever you want with me. And that includes cumming, don't worry darling I got my tubes tied so you won't have to worry about becoming a father."

Mina bent over for you displaying her perfect ass for you.

Unable to help yourself you swiftly inserted your hard cock deep into her ass screwing up her insides.

"Slow down darling! It hurts when you enter too quickly."

"But mommy I really want you! How can I hold myself back against someone who is as beautiful as you?"

You pulled out and thrusted yourself back into Mina's ass. Leaning down to kiss her neck in order to get her mind off the pain.

"Y/N I know your hormones are acting up but you have to slow down or you'll cum early. We should make the moment last as long as possible."

"Ugh fine I'll slow down." You weren't happy about it but you understood her points. And she was right, you did want this moment to last as long as possible.

Your thrusts became slow and you continued to kiss Mina's neck. She let out low moans as you reached over to grab her breasts. Your cock twitched inside of Mina. You pulled out and put yourself inside of her pussy.

"Darling you're really stretching me out so good."

"You're squeezing me so tight mommy!

"I bet you're girlfriend could never fuck you this good."

"My girlfriend?"

"Aren't you and Dahyun dating each other?"

"What? No, we're just friends."

"But you both hang out together all the ti-"

"Mommy I'm going to cum!"

"Wh-what? Hurry up and cum then!"

You pushed your cock deep into Mina's pussy and spewed out all your cum onto her pussy.

"Gah~ you feel so good I want to cum all over you."

"Pull out Y/N."

You obeyed and pulled out of her tight pussy. Mina turned around and started to suck your sensitive cock.

"Mina your mouth is so wet and warm."

"You don't taste half bad."

She continued to suck your cock in a sloppy manner. You moaned loudly because of her. Your moans echoed throughout Mina's whole house.

You came again inside of her mouth. Though it was a much smaller load. "Your cum tastes so good. You have to feed me this every day from now on!"

Mina laid down on the couch and you laid on her resting your head on her soft breasts.

"What time do you have to be home?"

"I think 30 more minutes before my parents get suspicious."

"Then let's rest up for 5 minutes then we'll continue."

-

The next morning you were walking to school with Dahyun.

"So how did your tutoring session with Mrs. Myoui go?"

"Mom- uhm, I mean Mrs. Myoui did a great job. I really learned a lot from her."

"Really? Well I'm glad you were able to actually learn."

"Yeah ... she took more of a physical approach and that helped a lot."

"Hey Y/N can I ask you something?"

"What's up?"

"Can I be your girlfriend?"

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

Starring: You Mina, Dahyun (Twice) Felix (Stray Kids)

[yougavememyopia]

Really suggestive, but nothing happens.

Clumsy yandere, who is constantly looking at you with lovesick eyes. Something always seemed to go wrong when he tailed after you. Busy with his fantasies, he failed to observe all that was around him.

He'd accidentally bump his drink into random nobodies while he was following you around. Frustrated that his clumsiness led him to losing sight of your fleeting figure.

He just wasn't a very good stalker.

The loud thud of him falling over objects or his small "oof" when he bumped into walls never went unnoticed by you. He'd instinctively apologize to the inanimate things and walk away awkwardly. Ashamed of the attention he drew to himself.

You finally decided to confront him, getting tired of watching him trip over his shoelaces and timidly fleeing the scene. "What's the matter with you? Why are you such a klutz?"

He had no idea how to answer that. Cursed to be so uncordinated ever since the day he was born, he was forced to accept it.

He chuckled and shrugged you off with a joke about bad luck. Hand brushing against yours while you helped him up. He had never felt so warm— his cheeks flushed red as a heat wave traveled through his body, building akward sweat.

You didn't understand how you managed to make his knees buckle with your mere presence. He'd trip over nothing, ending up injured at your feet. It took everything in you to not step on his dumb face.

"Guess you could say... I, uh, fell for you?" His laughter triggered another eye roll from you.

His luck was bad. Very, very bad.

He kept getting caught by you doing the most unhinged things. Sniffing your clothes. Stealing your trash. Lurking around your place. Denying the truth from you always got him nowhere.

Loud drums of his heartbeat banged in his ear every time your eyes met. The angry look on your face making his stomach twist with glee. You were looking at him. Paying attention to him. He finally felt noticed.

“I didn't do anything bad this time! Just stole your straw. Is it that bad?" He'd say in an ashamed voice— head down, eyes studying the ground. His sweaty, shaky fingers fiddled with each other as he waited for your verdict.

You forced him to throw the object in the bin. Feeling like a scolded puppy as you lectured him about his creepy behavior. Only if you knew that this was just the beginning of his worshipping obsession.

He had a detailed dairy about all the little things about you that he loved. Each physical and personality characteristic was intricated in unusually specific details. Of course, his terrible curse led him to accidentally lose it at your place the first time he broke in.

Not only did he get an injury collapsing into your floor— running away when he heard your security system— but he also exposed you to his most disturbing private thoughts.

Pages and pages of your name and doodled hearts. I love you's and perverted fantasies written all over. Scribbles of how he wanted to carve your name into his skin. To finally belong to you and only you.

You were disgusted. Super grossed out (and a bit turned on) at all the positions he described. The shameless smut written like he had already experienced it.

No matter how hard you tried to avoid him after that, he was always there. With a weary smile and a bruised body. His fearful gaze had changed to something cloudy and crazed. The tension between you growing each day.

You invited him over to talk. Feeling the need to do something about the lustful glances. Then he did it again— ruined everything with his clumsiness. The water pitcher broke and flooded the ground, turning the tiles slippery.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself to be okay. Sighing relief as no weird cliché moment happened. Instead, warm breaths fanned your thighs. The clumsy yandere faced with a sight he had only imagined. Maybe his luck wasn't all that bad.

[satin-velvet]

.* ·˚ 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹-𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ✧.* ·˚ ༘ 𝒢𝒩!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

summary: a collection of head-canons around dating the wonderful wizard of oz.

note: I loved writing these, and I also wanted to write something gender-neutral. Thank you to everyone reading! Happy new years! 2025 will be a year filled with writing, wicked, and good memories <3

disclaimer: maybe not entirely accurate, this is just my interpretation of his character. subject to change, of course. some mentions of nsfw but nothing explicit.

✧.* ·˚ ༘

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Oscar, unfortunately, is a bit lonely. Madame Moribble isn’t in the Emerald City all the time, so he’s mostly left to his own devices. I imagine he created the Oz of Tomorrow so he’d have something to do. Of course, lonely in the past tense, because with you he doesn’t feel lonely anymore!

He would immediately have a little figurine made for you, one for keepsakes and the other to go with his in the Oz of Tomorrow. Speaking of, he would love just explaining every detail of it and sharing everything he wants to add to it. He would want to hear your ideas, too, and hear what you think about it.

His favorite color, as we know, is green. If you wore green, he would love it. It doesn’t matter what; shirts, pants, dresses, lingerie, whatever. If you really wanted, he would get you a completely brand new, all green wardrobe. Just for you.

A little farther into the relationship, he’d want to tell you some of the things he remembers about Omaha, though it’s not much. Things about life before he was the wizard, but he might leave out the parts about him not actually being magical. He wouldn’t want you to think less of him. If you were also from somewhere far from Oz, he would be a little more comfortable with you since you have the shared experience of being somewhere completely new.

He’d be clingy, mostly unintentionally. Now that he has someone to actually talk to and spend time with, it’d be hard going back to doing things alone, even if it’s for a short while. There would be plenty he’d want to talk to you about, and he will just talk and talk if you let him, even if you stop responding. When he has to do his wizard work, like.. signing documents and such, if you wanted to come along and hangout in his office, he would happily let you.

Would absolutely gift you nice, custom jewelry and accessories whenever. If he knows gifts make you happy, expect them a lot. If you gave him gifts back, he would definitely cherish them.

Even though he tends not to venture outside the palace, if you wanted to, he’d go out to the Emerald City and explore it with you. Sometimes in a disguise, sometimes not. Sometimes the attention of all the citizens becomes too much. He loves the attention, of course, but he would want to focus on you.

Very protective. If you absolutely must leave (he will try to convince you not too) he wouldn’t want you to go very far, especially anywhere he can’t ensure your safety. Anywhere near the desert? No. Random forests? Probably not. If he felt he needed to, he would have a guard go with you.

He tries to keep all his evil tendencies under wraps, and present as a charming, sentimental man. The truth is a little more complicated. He was quite caring, to begin with, but saving Oz came with some drawbacks. For instance, if you wanted to break up or leave, he would try to convince you not to.. all the classic “What am I going to do without you?” lines. If you did actually leave, he’d do the same thing he did with Elphaba and call the guards to go get you and bring you back. I think this is when he would be most pathetic and begging, especially if you were standing your ground. He would try and convince you for hours, however long it takes.

One thing he would hate is you favoring another person over him. If you don’t need him, then you might leave, and he doesn’t want that. He’s the one and only wizard of oz; who could be better than him? It would make him jealous, and quite hurt. You might have to reassure him every once in awhile that you do love him and won’t leave.

On the topic of magic, he probably has a little potion room where he experiments with making elixirs and potions. At first, it was just for fun (and to give to Melena) but if you wanted, he could try some on you. Most of them don’t do much, if anything at all. But he’d be excited you want to try one of his hobbies.

He loves dancing. Slow-dancing, tap-dancing.. it doesn’t matter. If you didn’t know how, he’d teach you how to slow-dance. I think he’s proficient in many things, niche or not, since he has so much time on his hands. Things like instruments are another thing he’d love to teach you.

He’s always wanted a child of his own, and he projects a little bit of that onto you when he teaches you how to do something or explains things. I think this would be very noticeable if you were younger than him.

He likes pet-names, mostly because they are charming and also good for manipulation when he needs to use it. I think he’d use darling the most, whether casually, during intercourse, or when he want’s something from you. There are other pet names he’d use, depending on what you like. If you aren’t a fan of those, a nickname works just fine.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

[sir-fenris]

It is time :D, oh how I love to yap about chapters.

Lot's of feelings, emotions, feelings, emotions-

-

He had hoped for something that might give his life a perfect symmetry. He wanted any sense of justice to fall back on, though he knew well enough not to truly expect it.

Yeah, well... you searched for justice a bit too late, mate. Delta is already gone. Your guilt is not going to vanish by projecting Delta's impression onto Johanna. Justice and atonement aren't gonna fall from the sky.

But I like where this is going, so keep on :)

He did not dare reach for them here in the dead of space. He’d be no better off once he was out of the chains. Paris knew, with total certainty, that he would not beat her in a fight. He didn’t even think he could do it healthy anymore, some new flinch mechanism that made him so tired of hitting and of being hit. He certainly could not do it in the thralls of withdrawal, not with the cracked rib and the hole through his hand. No opportunity presented itself. He was scared to.

Honestly... fair. Very much fair. Being scared to try in a situation like is is honestly fair.

It embarrassed him just how badly he missed Delta.

Aw... 🥺. How can Paris inspire so much hate and pity in the same measure?

Like. Congrats. You miss the captive you abused, beat up and used every single day for no reason. You only miss him when he's dead and you're sad. Congrats, asshole.

But also... Fuck. How sad it is that one of the most honest, 'friendly' relation he had, was with that same captive. How sad that this captive had more sympathy for him than most people in his life. How sad that while he's being taken to his death, one of the only people he misses is Delta.

I have conflicting emotions with Paris' sentence. It's kinda adorably pitiful, bit sad, and makes me exasperated and angry at him.

All the same, her fingers had been lined with white gems that morning. They were impossible not to notice as he’d brought her hand up to his lips. He’d have done anything for her then. The memories bled out into the edges of his dreams.

Awww. Paris view of Lorelai also inspire many feelings on me, but at least this one just makes me thing Paris is being adorably pitiful. Lorelaaaai, come back to us :'( Paris is so much better with you around... and I wanna know more about you. Our duo is separated :(

Johanna dreamed of something cold and breathing beneath the soft wet earth. She had the nightmare often. Big walls and little hands. A playful pulsing in each of them, turned violent and mean over time.

She dreamt of a small box. She dreamed of a pulsing that grew into a frantic pounding — and a loving flesh that always come backs. It came back her no matter how many times they tried to kill her.

Johanna dreamt of a hole dug deep into the earth. She’s had the same nightmare since she was twelve — and though it gets better, it never really goes away.

.........Was she fucking buried alive? Am I tripping? I read this 3 times. Was she buried alive as a kid???

Honestly, kinda confused with the rest of the words, but now I'm really curious.

"A loving flesh that always comes back", wtf? Johanna?

“Did you know Martino?” he asked.

...wait. wait. Wait. WAIT. HOW DID I FUCKING MISSED THIS? Is Johanna from Beldam Institute????? Wtf? How did I not noticed that before?

You freaking liar, you said St. Holly's Prep! :0

Oh my fucking God, I'm gonna re-read every single chapter in all 3 series after this. I need to remember every detail.

Immediately, he knew it was a mistake. He had about three seconds to flinch before she’d crossed the interior to him and hit him as hard as she possibly could. The intention had clearly been to knock him unconscious, but he’d recoiled fast enough that she mostly struck the side of his jaw. He gasped, sure for a second it’d been broken. There was no time to recover in between the blows. He only shielded his skull as Johanna slammed the cleat into his side, over and over again, breathing heavy. She tore his arms away, gripping the collar’s chain just to slam his head back into the wall, pinning him there.

OH MY GOD SHE DID. SHE DID. SHE FUCKING DID.

Martino knew Johanna. Oh god. Johanna knew Martino. GOD. My mind.

And honestly? If I was in Johanna's place and someone just said his name, I would flip in anger too. Very reasonable anger. I would ban the name "Martino" from my life too. Bitter fucking asshole, that old man. Can't imagine hiw many bad memories she has of him, but definitely want to read every single one :3. And it must be a strong link to the Institute too. Like. How the fuck did Paris know the name of a doctor there, yk? It must have been a shock. A bad one.

But ouch for Paris. Actually winced a bit for him.

“Are you mad at me?” Paris asked. He was stupid and chastened, both knees drawn up to his chest.

... Gosh, I agree with Delta. He can be very pathetic, though I don't like using that word because it feels too mean. So pitiful. He's pitiful.

Really? You're projecting THAT hard, buddy? Why does it matter if she's mad at you, come on, is now the time to worry about that?

“Did you know him? Delta. One Zero Seven.” Paris asked quietly.

...

...Oh. Oh.

If Martino didn't make me flip enough...

I love how Paris starts with "him" before clarifying who. Because the "him" was clear for him.

And I do not believe her at all. Wasn't Delta like... the kid used to threaten other kids and all? One of the ones that lasted? Huh. She might be telling the truth, but I don't believe her.

And one thing. I still remember that when she said her name to Paris, she said it like it was meant to mean something. Idk if I'm forgetting something or if that still has no explanation. But honestly Johanna always confused me a bit. I think I really do need to re-read Crash out once again. Keep it fresh.

And uhhh... just a question. Was her hair ever green?

“What was it like?” he asked. There will be no other opportunities to ask, no other ways to know. He wondered if anyone else who went to that school was even alive anymore. Delta wasn’t. Was Johanna alive, really? 

He looked at her and he could not tell. 

Yeah, well, you could have asked Delta before, asshole. But keep on. Ask more. We want to know too :D

Is Johanna alive? Honestly can't tell either. She confuses me a lot, and after that burying alive thing I'm really not sure.

Except that all the previous times, he did not have a knife wound piercing straight through the flesh of his hand. A white bandage had been bound tight around it ever since he’d been rescued. It still held. She’d seen it, of course. She had to have known. She didn’t care. 

They must not have either.

You met Martino, Paris.

They did NOT care.

Paris offered both hands without resistance, surprising himself. Would she have forced him to if he hadn’t? For some reason, he didn’t think so. If he wasn’t playing along, he thought, she might just give up.

........ Hello? Paris, I'm actually concerned about you, my guy, wtf? Your behavior was ALWAYS concerning, but right now I actually want you to have a recovery arc, because wtf. You need help.

And I don't mean it in a mean way, Paris lately is actually being so pitiful that is hard to not want him to have a hug and rest and a full meal.

I read Destroyer and Rubies and hate him so much (with exceptions, sometimes he was.... half decent). Then I read Rubies and he's pathetically pitiful and sad and- 😀 hello?

(Tbf, he already was before, but... yk what I mean)

He still tried to be steady as the belt came down against his hands again. Again. Again. He resisted the automatic curling of his fingers in an effort to protect himself. It was really nothing. He’d had so much worse. He didn’t know why he was crying so badly. 

Again. Again. He lost track, letting his vision blur just the same as the count. All the nerves in his hand were beaten almost numb, stinging. He couldn’t keep the tremor out of them. 

Johanna grumbled in frustration, pulling the belt back to her side. She was fumbling with the end of it.

...Hm. Why do I feel like she kept hitting because he was crying? He asked how things were in the Institute, and as far as Delta told us repeatedly, the Institute punished them for crying and all.

Idk. I felt like thay was why she was frustrated, might be wrong.

“You don’t fucking ask when it’s over.” She barked.

Yeah, Paris, don't you remember how Delta acted 🙄. Just kidding. Actually felt a bit bad for Paris. Fuck him for making me want to give him a hug.

“You don’t understand!” She yelled. It was infantile. And it was wrong. He did.

Then again, he doubted she was even talking to him.

Neither of you are actually speaking to one another, let's be honest. Traumatized duo using one another for trauma-guided behavior. Just great.

He tucked himself further into the far wall, unable to stop crying or to even be silent about it. She did not speak to him again for the rest of the night.

...*sigh*.

Alright, Paris. You earned a hug. Come here 🫂.

Amazing chapter, as always :D <3, thanks for writing this story, eager for the next one.

And indeed thanks @floral-comet-whump for heping making Beldam Johanna canon, cause- WOW. That make me stare at the screen for minutes. I did NOT see that coming.

Now I gotta re-read everything, because my mind is.......... Wow. This chapter did flips with my head.

(Forgive any typos, I think I've been writing this for over an hour 😀)

-

Crash Out - Joey

(Content: past abuse, whumper turned whumpee, beating, implied child abuse, claustrophobia mention, addiction mention, retraumatization, crying, guilt, self harm?, blood, brief weight talk)

Still shaking, still sick, Paris stared up blankly at the ceiling again, for want of anything better to do. The manacles chafed at his bare wrists, leaving a thick band of raw skin beneath. He’d gotten used to it.

“Did you go to a school when you were little?” He asked Johanna without looking at her.

Without looking back from the control panel, she answered: “I’m not that fucking stupid, am I?”

He shook his head — and the movement of the collar caused the chain to click against the tile.

“No. I mean, like, a special one. For psychics.” He explained vaguely. 

“I went to St.Holly’s Prep.” She answered curtly.

“Oh.” He deflated. 

He had hoped for something that might give his life a perfect symmetry. He wanted any sense of justice to fall back on, though he knew well enough not to truly expect it. His hand traced the collar again, taking slow and steady breaths. He breathed easier when he was flat on his back. Any sudden motion made him feel like he might faint, so he didn’t move at all. The lock picks were burning a hole in his pocket.

She’d missed them, somehow. She hadn’t been very deliberate in the pat down — and at this point, he was all angles. His own hipbone had been as hard and as pointed as the metal. 

He did not dare reach for them here in the dead of space. He’d be no better off once he was out of the chains. Paris knew, with total certainty, that he would not beat her in a fight. He didn’t even think he could do it healthy anymore, some new flinch mechanism that made him so tired of hitting and of being hit. He certainly could not do it in the thralls of withdrawal, not with the cracked rib and the hole through his hand. No opportunity presented itself. He was scared to.

The stygian depths appear every time he closed his eyes, dark blue, teeming. He was scared. Some ancient dread was settling onto him, sharp-toothed and feral. He missed Delta. 

It embarrassed him just how badly he missed Delta.

But when he dreamed, mercifully, it was of Lorelai. It was a frozen morning and the last night’s rain had crystallized against the pale bluegrass. Her hair was undone, hanging in limp curls against the fabric of her sweater. It was the last morning before the break. He’d given her clovers and coffee and jasmine perfume. He’d have given her anything, but he knew the wealth humiliated her. It was an affront for either of them to even wear the uniform.

All the same, her fingers had been lined with white gems that morning. They were impossible not to notice as he’d brought her hand up to his lips. He’d have done anything for her then. The memories bled out into the edges of his dreams.

His heart was all the way empty when he awoke. Lorelai was safer without him than she’d ever be with. It was cold comfort. He’d left her alone and limp in the dirt.

There was no day or night to follow, but the ship’s lights had dimmed. Paris thought it was another hallucination, another dream he couldn’t shake — but the soft sound of crying permeated and echoed throughout the ship. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. 

She was whimpering in her sleep.

~

Johanna dreamed of something cold and breathing beneath the soft wet earth. She had the nightmare often. Big walls and little hands. A playful pulsing in each of them, turned violent and mean over time. She smiled because she could, because they always liked her. She smiled too wide and laughed too hard, some screw knocked loose, faulty wiring from having been hit in the head one too many times. A nervous laugh. Wide, pleading eyes.

She dreamt of a small box. She dreamed of a pulsing that grew into a frantic pounding — and a loving flesh that always come backs. It came back her no matter how many times they tried to kill her.

Johanna dreamt of a hole dug deep into the earth. She’s had the same nightmare since she was twelve — and though it gets better, it never really goes away. She woke up with her eyes still blotted with tears and for a minute she had forgotten where she was. 

From across the room, the captive prince stared at her unblinking, and she knew he had heard everything.

~

Several hours later, when they were both wide awake, Paris tried again.

“Did you know Martino?” he asked.

Immediately, he knew it was a mistake. He had about three seconds to flinch before she’d crossed the interior to him and hit him as hard as she possibly could. The intention had clearly been to knock him unconscious, but he’d recoiled fast enough that she mostly struck the side of his jaw. He gasped, sure for a second it’d been broken. There was no time to recover in between the blows. He only shielded his skull as Johanna slammed the cleat into his side, over and over again, breathing heavy. She tore his arms away, gripping the collar’s chain just to slam his head back into the wall, pinning him there.

But Johanna looked so lost. All her anger was thick with confusion. Her eyes searched him, up and down, as if something in his body might tell her.

“How-“ she asked desperately. “Who-“

Paris shivered, retreating, hiding his head again. It hurt. His ribs were so tender he could’ve cried. She released the chain around his neck, staggering a few steps back.

“Don’t say his name again,” she warned.

Paris nodded.

~

“Are you mad at me?” Paris asked. He was stupid and chastened, both knees drawn up to his chest.

Johanna sighed, sitting up against the starboard wall of the ship. She tossed a tennis ball idly, only occasionally glancing at the autopilot to see they were still on course. She did not dignify him with a response. 

“Did you know him? Delta. One Zero Seven.” Paris asked quietly.

It felt like it’d been ages since he’d said his name aloud. The sound of it hovered in the air, seemed to echo in a way the other words had not. He still remembered the numerals that followed, though by the time he first learned them, they’d lost all their usefulness. But to her, those numbers must have meant something. It’d be the only way to distinguish them.

“As if I’d remember any of them.” Johanna rolled her eyes.

Paris quieted, tucking his face back down into his arms. He only peeked up at her as she stood up, moving to check up on the air filter. 

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

He was surprised when she didn’t laugh. She only sighed again, eyes flitted up to the ceiling as if she was considering it.

“I didn’t before. I think I’m starting to.” She decided.

“Is that why?” He looped one finger in the collar, tugging it.

“Nope.”

In return, she tapped one finger to his nose, booping it gently. He still flinched.

“That’s just business.”

~

It ate at him. He turned restlessly within the chains. There was nothing to do and only her for company. She was taking him to be killed, to hurt the whole time he died, to be mutilated and changed. All his future seemed an endless void. All he could focus on was the past.

“What was it like?” he asked. There will be no other opportunities to ask, no other ways to know. He wondered if anyone else who went to that school was even alive anymore. Delta wasn’t. Was Johanna alive, really? 

He looked at her and he could not tell. 

She stood up from the console, visibly irritated at the fact he was still taking. Or maybe she just didn’t like his choice in conversation topic. Either way, he’d pissed her off.

“You want to know what it was like?” She asked incredulously.

He sat up and nodded his head. For a second, she just looked tired. She undid the belt from around her waist.

“Hands out. Now.”

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before. He’d gotten his knuckles rapped millions of times, had the cane brought down against each part of his body. None of it ever helped. By the time he graduated, he knew it was more about anger than it ever was about correction. This was no different.

Except that all the previous times, he did not have a knife wound piercing straight through the flesh of his hand. A white bandage had been bound tight around it ever since he’d been rescued. It still held. She’d seen it, of course. She had to have known. She didn’t care. 

They must not have either.

Paris offered both hands without resistance, surprising himself. Would she have forced him to if he hadn’t? For some reason, he didn’t think so. If he wasn’t playing along, he thought, she might just give up.

He held both palms facing upward. It was what he was used to, what he assumed she wanted, and he was willing to turn them if it wasn’t.

The belt was folded over. He kept still.

It was worse than he thought it’d be. He gasped in shock and pain at the sting. He’d been comparing it to the wrong injuries, expecting the wrong kind of pain. The belt hurt his right hand about as badly as when it’d first been punctured, about as bad as an arrow through his fucking ribcage. His eyes watered immediately.

He still tried to be steady as the belt came down against his hands again. Again. Again. He resisted the automatic curling of his fingers in an effort to protect himself. It was really nothing. He’d had so much worse. He didn’t know why he was crying so badly. 

The belt swung again. He only pulled his hand back just to quickly wipe at his eyes. She got mad.

“Paris,” she hissed, exasperated, and he couldn’t remember her ever using his name before this. “I can make this a lot worse for you and you know it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he offered the hand back.

Again. Again. He lost track, letting his vision blur just the same as the count. All the nerves in his hand were beaten almost numb, stinging. He couldn’t keep the tremor out of them. 

Johanna grumbled in frustration, pulling the belt back to her side. She was fumbling with the end of it.

“…Are we done?” he asked weakly. 

The belt buckle hit him square in the face, drawing a pained gasp from him. He reeled to the side, barely catching himself. Blood dripped readily from the gash in his cheek. In shock, he moved two finger up to touch it. Wet. Warm. 

“You don’t fucking ask when it’s over.” She barked.

He kept his eyes trained on the ground, half-curled away from her. The impact had whipped his head to the side and he did not correct it. 

He heard her readjusting the belt. For a second, he really did think she was finished. He let himself be fooled twice.

The buckle struck him again in the shoulder. It produced much less of a reaction than the strike to the face did, but he still cried. It was worse when he couldn’t see it, but he knew better than to try and turn around. He twitched at each new impact.

“You don’t understand!” She yelled. It was infantile. And it was wrong. He did.

Then again, he doubted she was even talking to him.

The metal snapped at the bare skin of his arm, once again at his back. He shifted one shoulder up to shield his still-bleeding face and endured the hit for it. It was only then she seemed to tire. It didn’t matter. He was sobbing. Though he tried to do it quietly, there was so little he could focus on besides his own misery. The effort was futile. He hardly noticed whether she was there or not, whether the beating had even stopped.

He tucked himself further into the far wall, unable to stop crying or to even be silent about it. She did not speak to him again for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you to @floral-comet-whump for getting me to canonize Johanna being from Beldam!!! that was always supposed to be the implication w her character but i wasnt sure about making it explicit until they had the idea of her being an experiment that beldam tried to kill and ended up BURYING ALIVE. that was too tasty to leave as subtext >:)

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen

[doodle-snek]

Reposting this from my now deactivated Twitter account. This is an oc that belonged to a moot of mine there.

[waybrightgender]

google how to get someone to stop reading about crypto and using degenerate

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[ot3]

HOT OR NOT? POKEMON

There are a lot of pokemon out there. Some of them are good. Some of them are bad.

the world of pokemon is a beautiful one filled with many "types" of pokemon. some pokemon are steel. some pokemon are bugs. some of them are even normal. lately i have found myself thinking, which pokemon is the most steel? which pokemon is the most bugs? which pokemon is normal? and today i am proud to say i have answered these questions and more.

It can be hard to decide, since there are so many of them, but luckily I'm here to make that decision for you. i have definitively chosen the most representative (most) least representative (least) personal favorite (best) and least favorite (worst) design of every pokemon type. and i will now explain it to you in detail

now keep in mind we are ONLY talking about design here. lore is not coming into play whatsoever. if you want to explain to me why xyz pokemon is actually the most/least/best whatevertype pokemon because it's based on this or that: i don't care. that's not why we're here. we're judging books by their covers today

Normal Type

Most - Herdier: This is just a regular ass dog, which may be considered one of the normalest things on the planet. It doesn't get much more normal than this, folks.

Least - Arceus: If i saw this thing it would be one of the least normal days of my life.

Best - Skitty: This is just a perfect design, there isn't anything bad you could possibly say about it and if you tried I'd hit you. Look at that face. ^_^

Worst - Castform (Normal): It looks like either a pair of balls or casper with a fat rack and in either case it's just kind of unappealing to look at.

Grass Type

Most - Shaymin (Land Forme): Although 'grass' a type represents all plant life, I am choosing to interpret it literally here. Shaymin is the grassiest of all grass pokemon, and although this is not part of the criteria, it is also very cute so lets all take a moment to appreciate that

Least - Kartana: this is an origami swordsman bug thing which to me isn't really Grass at all. I do love the design but it's not very grassy. yeah paper comes from plants but gun to my head i would have not guessed grass type for this pokemon in top 3, maybe not even top 5.

Best - Wo-Chien: I just think this guy represents a ton of pokemon design philosophy at its best. It has a very strong sense of color, good use of shape, is just a tiny bit strange, and most importantly is a kind of Creature i would like to hang out with

Worst - Calyrex: The more realistically proportioned hare head with the strange body does NOT work for me. I'm not mad about the massive berry on top at all but why the perfectly round torso? Why the stubby little arms? Why the noodle legs with the thigh high boots? I think you could fix this one pretty easily ultimately but it really needs fixin

Water Type

Most - Wailord: Although there is no actual water in wailord's design, the mere presence of a whale implies the necessity for an amount of water that is almost as catastrophically overwhelming in its absence as its presence.

Least - Palkia: Other than looking like an anthropomorphized speedboat palkia is not particularly aquatic in its nature

Best - Lapras: There's a lot of great water pokemon designs but i think lapras is firing on all cylinders. Really a classic pokemon design.

Worst - Quaquaval: There are a lot of pokemon that are uncomfortably anthropomorphic and there have been since gen 1. It's not something I'm against in concept at all and it's produced some of my favorite pokemon designs of all time. But unfortunately when it flops it flops hard. Seriously, what are these proportions? Perfectly fine idea for a pokemon just executed with shocking inelegance.

Fire Type

Most - Gigantamax Cinderace: This is simply the most amount of fire you're getting in a fire pokemon. Biggest bang for your buck

Least - Blacephalon: Another ultra beast design that is, as a design, excellent, but i would not be able to guess the typing on the first try if you put a gun to my head

Best - Chandelure: What if a haunted chandelier was your friend. Enough said. This thing just rules

Worst - Cinderace: Everything I said about quaquaval is equally true here.

Fighting Type

Most - Machamp: He's a wrestler with four arms this is as fighting as fighting gets

Least - Meditite: This is a small child in an open, peaceful stance. I sense no violence here. If he were to fight, he would have been provoked.

Best - Mienshao: effortlessly elegant design that conveys the aesthetics of martial arts and combines it with the simplified animal anatomy and strong shape language that represents pokemon at it's best

Worst - Gurdurr: This entire line is profoundly uncomfortable to me but the prominent near-bursting veins and inexplicable hourglass figure are at their worst here.

Flying Type

Most - Altaria: This is a bird made out of clouds, which is the most flyingest a thing could be.

Least - Shaymin (Sky Forme): This dude doesnt look like its feet are getting off the ground anytime soon if i'm being quite honest

Best - Sigilyph: Great example of what flying type can look out when you branch away from simple birds. The stranger and less organic feeling pokemon are collectively some of my favorite and i think sigilyph is one of the more effective ones.

Worst - Enamorus: 😬

Electric Type

Most - Xurkitree: The Exposed Copper Wiring Pokemon. Great stuff. Also a banger design on top of being the most. i love the ultra beasts

Least - Alolan Geodude: I understand the eyebrows and hair are supposed to be gatherings of lead sand but its still not giving electrivity. it just looks like a rock, one of the least electric things on the planet

Best - Rotom (All Forms): I wanted to put every rotom here but there was no way to arrange that easily. Just picture all the other rotoms here too. Rotom is awesome it's normal design is just cute and fun and then all of the other appliances are just a great concept.

Worst - Elektrike: Not unforgivably bad or anything but just kind of a design that doesn't convey a lot of information or have any appeal to it. Completely forgettable.

Poison Type

Most - Galarian Weezing: This guy is the most poisonous possible poison you could have. This guys hobby is global warming. This guy is dumping carcinogens into the river. And not just incidentally. He's ideologically motivated AND gets pleasure from it.

Least - Oddish: Not only do I not believe eating an oddish would poison me, i think oddish is healthy. I think it's good for you.

Best - Ivysaur: It's impossible to truly extract the nostalgia from my feelings towards the gen 1 pokemon designs but I think we can all agree. Ivysaur looks great

Worst - Eternatus: Does not even look like it belongs in the same franchise as anything else on this list so far. And on top of that, it looks stupid. 0/10. I do like the version of it that's an evil hand though.

Psychic Type

Most - Mega Alakazam: This dude looks like he should be airbrushed on a black velvet tapestry. I can't imagine anything more psychic than that.

Least - Exeggcute: Picking a least psychic pokemon was a hard one, because although we have some specific idea of what a psychic is, it's hard to say what one isn't. Ultimately, I don't think a handful of cracked eggs feels very psychic to me. I'm not sure what they feel like to me to be honest.

Best - Deoxys: Take a note, people, this is how you design a pokemon that's 'cool'

Worst - Necrozma: Take a note, people, this is not how you design a pokemon that's 'cool'

Ground Type

Most - Dugtrio: Dugtrios presence in the area is synonymous with the ground. in the same way that wailord's existence comes with the implicit presence of huge amounts of water, dugtrio's existence comes with the explicity presence of The Ground, because it's part of the design. We will never know dugtrio in its entirety, we will only see as much of it as the ground lets us.

Least - Whiscash: That's a fish, it shouldn't be on the ground.

Best - Trapinch and Claydol: I really really wanted to avoid ties here but please indulge me just this one. These are two creatures that are perfectly made but each in its own distinct way.

Worst - Zygarde (Complete Forme): Overdesigned as fuckkkkkk

Ice Type

Most - Avalugg: This guy's ice.

Least AND Worst - Jynx: Not only is Jynx not particularly icy, changing the skintone was really not enough to redeem this design.

Best - Glaceon: There aren't any bad eveelutions. That said, glaceon isn't my favorite. However in the contect of ice pokemon I think it does a great job of using shape language and colors that feel icy without needing to actually resort to just chucking ice onto it. A lot of ice pokemon are either a little bit too on the nose or just outside of my taste bracket

Bug Type

Most - Caterpie: Very bug.

Least - Pineco: this is a pinecone with eyes, which is different from a bug.

Best - Leavanny: Look at that winning smile :)

Worst - Buzzwole: TOO SWOLE!!!!

Rock Type

Most - Onix: You may think it would have been geodude, who is just a rock with arms, but onix is actually just a rock with a face which is then attached to SEVERAL MORE ROCKS. That's as rock as it gets.

Least - Sudowoodo: You can't pull the wool over my eyes. That's a tree.

Best - Lunatone: What if the moon was kind of creepy and also your pet.

Worst - Terrakion: Think this motherfcukers just ugly

Dragon Type

Most - Mega Charizard X: We all know Charizard is a dragon but that's only sometimes true. When it's true, it's very true.

Least - Tatsugiri (All Forms): Why is a piece of sushi a dragon. I do support it don't get me wrong. But I'm not exactly following the throughline

Best - Rayquaza: I think sometimes the legendary pokemon end up in the Too Much category but I think rayquaza pushes riiight up against that edge without going over it.

Worst - Dracovish: Shitting on the mix and match fossilized pokemon feels kind of like low hanging fruit. I honestly think they're kind of fun in concept. But this just looks stupid

Ghost Type

Most - Haunter: Self explanatory

Least - Decidueye: A very fun design but it feels like its got much too life in it to be ghostly.

Best - Polteageist: I'm insanely biased because I love ghosts and have a teapot collection so when i saw they put a ghost in a teapot i was overjoyed and it became my favorite pokemon as a whole instantly.

Worst - Gholdengo: Looks like the mascot for a string cheese brand

Dark Type

Most - Guzzlord: Dark type in japanese is Evil type which certainly has different connotations. In either case, I think whatever it means for a pokemon to be dark or evil is embodied here.

Least - Scraggy: I don't think this guy is particularly sinister at all.

Best - Mega Absol: I'm just so charmed by mega absol because it is indistinguishable from the kind of thing a teen with a deviantart would have drawn. It's like an edgy emo fairy white haired anime boy angel sparkledog. But despite that it still has a lot of aesthetic integrity and manages to only be a bit over the top in a way i think it's suited for.

Worst - Mega Sharpedo: This cluttered design pretty much undoes anything that's successful about sharpedo's standard form

Steel Type

Most - Melmetal: the unrelenting metalness of this guy is not even tanted by any even vaguelt biological components

Least - Wormadam (Trash Cloak): Not a single visibly metallic part on this pokemon

Best - Magearna: A clockwork magical girl... what a great design. i love her. so cute. there's really strong competition in steel type though

Worst - Varoom: Something about this guy looks agonized to be alive. And I feel that agony too. It looks like a motorcycle that was in the process of being transmogrified into a creature but the process was incorrectly terminated halfway through and now it lives a cursed and painful existence.

Fairy Type

Most - Mega Diancie: this thing could give me a quest to save the world and i would listen to it

Least - Galarian Weezing: I also wanted to do no duplicates but once again I will ask you for my forgiveness. Clearly this thing is the least fairy fairy. Not only is it unfairy, I think it tortures fairies. I think it's the villain in a movie where a bunch of children have to rescue a gang of captured fairies who are being used to power a Pollution Factory. I think this things grinds fairies up into dust and uses them to line the rim of its cocktail glass.

Best - Klefki: Klefki is soooo fun. I feel like if klefki was a ghost pokemon it wouldn't hit the same way because the idea of a haunted keyring is fun, sure, but it's notwhere near as good as a Whimsical Enchanted Keyring.

Worst - Zacian: this thing could give me a quest to save the world and im not sure i would listen to it. man the legendary dogs are just kind of a mess aesthetically

Okay that's all of the types. I don't really have a way to end this post. Of course there are a bunch of really good designs and really weird and cluttered ones that I didn't get a chance to talk about but. Idk man I can't rate every pokemon design there's just too many of them. there you have it.

[rindreamery]

to be loved is to be seen.

the little things that the blue lock men do for you as their way of saying, "i love you." featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku 𝜗𝜚 content: fluff

note. spreading down bad bllk men agenda 🫦 finals is this week, so that means i will not be able to write at all for 3-4 days, so i just wanted to pop this out rlly quickly (event fics will be written as soon as i wrap up this sem, PROMISE)

itoshi rin picks out the things you don't like in your food.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but rin has a folder in his notes app about you— things you like, things you dislike, and every little thing you’ve mentioned to him in passing. he wants to know every little detail about you, to write it down and memorize it until the knowledge becomes stuck in the back of his head. to the point that it becomes like common sense to him (if there were ever a pop quiz on facts about you, he would pass with flying colors.) at the end of every date, or every time he hangs out with you, he’ll update his notes with another little thing he’d learned. you will never catch him admitting it out loud, but it definitely shows in how he treats you.

there is one thing he’d memorized about you, by now, though. it’s written in bold, italicized, and underlined in his notes: you hate mushrooms. 

rin catches himself looking at the ingredients of certain meals whenever the two of you would eat at a new restaurant, or order food from an unfamiliar place. it’s not that he’s necessarily a picky eater because, frankly, he really doesn’t care. but he wants you to enjoy it, he wants you to be able to eat without stressing about having to pick it out. his eyes are always scanning through the print, actively checking if mushrooms are one of the ingredients listed. 

but, there are times when the ingredients aren’t listed, and there are times when you end up ordering something with mushrooms in it. 

he may be dense in certain aspects, but it’s hard for him to miss the disappointed look on your face. the way your expression falls ever so slightly, and your smile falters for half a second. before you could dig in, before you could even put yourself through five minutes of digging through the food— he’s swiftly grabbing it from you. 

truthfully, he does it without thinking. he’s acting on his thoughts before he could even process what he’s doing. rin tries to fight the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks, the way the heat crawls up his neck and to his face at the realization of what he’d done, and he fails. but he’s committed to the act now, and he’s not going to give it back to you until he’s done what he needed to do.

he tries to ignore the somewhat perplexed look on your face, and the way you watch him closely as his fingers make quick work of moving the mushrooms from your plate to his. (he tries to sneak in some of your favorite food from his plate to yours, but he’s not slick, and you definitely notice.)

“here,” he says, pushing the plate closer to you after a few minutes. “you can eat it now.”

he sees you glance at the plate, and then back up at him— he looks away as you beam at him with a grateful smile, trying to ignore his ever-increasing heart rate. 

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

it is almost guaranteed that sae will wake up before you do. his alarm is set to go off at the crack of dawn, right as the sun starts to peek through the horizon, and he's starting his day while you're still in deep sleep. there’s a set routine that he follows, to a tee: wake up (and then contemplate staying in bed, just to cuddle with you a little longer), stretch, do morning yoga, and then go on a jog. it’s something he’d been doing for years, and he has never gone out of his way to add anything new to his routine— that is, until one morning. 

at first, it started with a random thought. as he was getting ready to leave the house, to go for his morning jog, he had unsystematically decided to set out your favorite mug and go-to morning snack. 

sae didn’t think it would be that significant to you, and he, initially, had no plans of doing it again. he simply had extra time to spare, and he knew that making your morning drink was always the first part to your routine, so he decided to get the first step out of the way for you.

truly, he wasn’t planning to make a habit out of this. but then, you told him, “that was a sweet way to start off my morning,” with that sleepy, morning smile of yours. he tries to not pay attention to the way his heart softens at the sight, and the realization that that had made him happy. yet now, he does it every time.

from then on, his alarm was always set to go off two minutes earlier. it’s rewarding, in his opinion, to come home to you— sitting at the dining table, messy hair and still in your pajamas, eyes half-lidded from sleep, with a smile on your face as you take a sip from the mug. and then you greet him with a thank you and a kiss, without fail, even when he tries to lightly guide you away because he’s sweaty.

it never works, because he folds the second you tell him, “g’morning. i missed you.” and he finds himself adding another part to his schedule. 

before sae’s even aware of it, much of his daily habits had been molded to fit with yours. 

on days where he’s far from home, in another country, he finds that his morning just never feels right without you. it feels weird not having to set out your favorite mug, and it feels even weirder not having you there to smother him in kisses. his routine had always determined his mood, and without you, he’s extra sour. 

“i miss you,” he ends up texting you. (that, too, becomes part of his routine when he’s far from you.)

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

if kaiser were to be asked to name one annoying habit of yours, it would be the fact that you, sometimes, say things that contradict how you truly feel. he calls you pesky, he tells you that he’ll take your word for it and not read too deeply into whatever you’re saying— but, in a way, he’s contradicting himself too by saying that. he’ll always read into it; he’ll always analyze you, gaze narrowed, and watching for every subtle sign in your body language. he knows you, all too well. 

but there’s one thing you always say, one contradictory statement that you always make, that he’d memorized at this point. “it’s okay, i’m not cold,” even when you visibly are.

it irks him to no end. he doesn’t understand why you would say that even when there are goosebumps scattered all over your skin, when you have your arms wrapped around yourself, and you’re visibly trembling. he can practically see the bones under your skin, rattling, making some comical, cartoony noise in his head. you know that he can see you, and yet, you still lie to him.

and, at times, he does this on purpose— he puts the air conditioning in the car on full blast, all vents pointed at you, just to see how far you’re willing to go. and every time, it’s always the same, with the same answer.

kaiser isn’t completely cruel, however. he’s tucked one of his spare hoodies (your favorite, actually) into the backseat, existing purely for your use. first, he’ll scoff at you, roll his eyes, and let you suffer for a few more minutes. but eventually, the guilt will catch up to him, and he’ll constantly be glancing at you through his periphery, shaking and looking absolutely miserable in your seat.

he’ll think to himself for a second, as if contemplating whether he’ll actually help you out (he always does, he does not want you to actually suffer). and then, he’ll internally sigh, before speaking up. “stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “i have a spare hoodie in the back, take it.”

it’s almost laughable, the way you quickly turn your body around to reach for the backseat, visibly seeking warmth. he sees the look of pure joy in your eyes when you realize that it’s your favorite, and he smiles to himself.

“you’re the best,” you always tell him, as you pull the fabric over your head, and he's content. 

he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t reprimand you— he lets you do this, every single time.

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

it doesn’t matter if aiku’s had an exceptionally long day, it doesn’t matter if he feels as if he’s on the verge of succumbing to sleep— he will always make time for you. he will never pass up a chance to call you, to listen to you talk about whatever you want, whenever you want. you could talk for hours, going on and on about something that he doesn’t quite understand, and not a single complaint will slip past his lips. then again, he thinks to himself, why would he complain? hearing your voice is the best part of any day, good or bad. and every night, he finds himself waiting by his phone, waiting for your contact to appear on his screen.

he finds no shame at the speed in which he accepts your call, which is immediately, nor does he try to mask the anticipation in his voice.

and if he were to look into a mirror at that exact moment, he would also see the lovesick smile that had started to tug on the corners of his lips. you can’t see him, but he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. the way it softens, the way it loses its rough edges and lightens up ever so slightly, when he greets you. you probably know he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. (he doesn’t think he is, but when it comes to you, he’s completely transparent.)

it doesn’t take long before you’re divulging into another one of your endless tangents. but aiku’s attention remains undivided, only for you. he sits on the other side of the phone, silently, only responding when you want him to. it doesn’t matter if his own thoughts are clouded with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of the day—when you call, everything else fades into nothingness.

“did you know that venus is an evening star for 263 days out of the year?” he can hear the excitement in your voice, he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, even without seeing you. it’s been three hours, and he’s sure that he should’ve been in bed one hour ago. but you’re still as energetic as ever, so he fights the way his body craves for sleep. he locks his jaw, and bites back a yawn, and listens. “and then, the fact that it disappears from the sky for 50 days, before returning as a morning star?”

there’s silence on your end, and aiku takes that as his cue to talk. “no,” he responds, and there’s an amused lilt in his tone. “i didn’t, actually. you should tell me more.” and you do. 

one look at the clock to his side tells him that, at this point, he won’t be getting enough sleep. he’s sure he’s going to be exhausted when he wakes up in the morning— though, he doesn’t really care, and he’s sure he won’t regret it. he’ll let you ramble about the stars for as long as you want, even when the stars themselves start to fade into the morning sky. 

© rindreamery, 2024

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook��”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jaehyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jaehyun x f!famous!reader

summary: you and Jaehyun are paired up for an interview. You should know what texting your boyfriend is like, right?

(cw: f!reader, famous!reader)

"Hi," Jaehyun greets the camera, "this is the perfect opportunity to catch up on some music." He settles into the plush pink chair while he fits the headphones over his ears.

His music begins to play while you enter the set and greet the camera which prevents him from hearing who his mystery partner might be. You pop your earbuds in and explain your screen name, "I chose Cupid because I like to set my friends up and help them in their relationships."

The camera cuts to Jaehyun who stares blankly at the camera, "I choose Valentine, because I was born on Valentine's day."

You settle into the chair and make yourself comfortable while your partner for the video begins messaging you. Whoever it is is very proper, uses all the right punctuation and is straightforward. Your eyes widen at the camera, speaking through the music playing through your earbuds, "is this an old man? Am I texting someone's grandpa?"

The staff bursts out laughing and you decide to text your exact question. Jaehyun's eyes widen and he can feel his ears heat in embarrassment beneath the head phones. He texts back with a slight pout on his face, "No, I'm not a grandpa."

You text back and forth for a while, talking about your hobbies, your MBTI, and just trying to make small talk. When you make a joke he doesn't respond with any laughs or emojis, when you try to make more conversation, he responds with short answers. You lean back in your chair, with a huff, "this person is not very fun. It has to be an old man. He doesn’t get any of my jokes!”

The staff prompts you both to send a picture of your home screens. You had recently updated it knowing that you were doing the interview and you and Jaehyun liked to keep your relationship private. Yes, it was known and public, but that didn't mean you were both open to sharing every little aspect, or really any details. Maybe one day you would both be open to sharing everything, but that day was not today.

You quickly take a screenshot of your screen which happens to be a couple folders of your apps and a widget of some picture you had found on Pinterest against the background of some flowers outside your favorite cafe.

Jaehyun perks up a little bit, "I think this looks familiar. I recognize the chairs and words on the wall, even though I can't really see it. Maybe it's one of the members?"

You study the picture sent to you with your brows furrowed as you zoom in and study the apps and the picture, "this looks so familiar to me. It looks like a restaurant in Jeju I was at a few weeks ago, I could be wrong. Let me ask."

The staff struggles to muffle their laughs at yours and Jaehyun's joint confusion. Of course, the pictures looked familiar to each of you, you were together, and had been to these places together.

You continue to text back and forth for a while, finally getting somewhere when he starts to show a little more personality and send some memes in response to your texts. He seemed to be a pretty funny guy, ultimately making you decide it was not an old man you were texting, just someone more proper and maybe old-er.

When it comes time to have you both send your recent food orders, Jaehyun pouts and furrows his brows as he studies the recent orders you'd sent him. There were 3 recent orders, 2 were for 2 people, and the last one was for a larger group. The orders looked familiar, one order for pizza and the other for ramen. It was food he had recently eaten and as hard as he tried to remember he couldn't remember who he had eaten the food with. His schedule had been so packed lately, everything was jumbled up in his head. "It has to be one of my members," he decides out loud.

You study the screenshot sent by "Valentine" while biting your lip, one of the orders was what you had eaten yesterday. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you it was your boyfriend, but he told you he was doing talk shows and variety shows today. This wasn't considered either right? Does he really text like this and you’ve never noticed? Surely, you know what your own boyfriend texts like, right?

You both continue chatting and whoever it is makes you laugh pretty hard at some points when your partner says something stupid or sends a dumb meme. You laugh especially loud, choking on your spit when he sends you a drawing of what he thinks you look like.

You have tears in your eyes and warm cheeks as you stare at a poor drawing of what looks like a boy, freckles, huge eyes, big smile. Your eyes dart from the screen of your phone to the lens of the camera, “wh- he thinks I’m a boy? This doesn’t even look like a person who actually exists!”

Jaehyun on his own side bursts out laughing after zooming in and looking at every detail of the picture, “there are wrinkles on this drawings face. And it’s bald. He thinks I’m an old man, so weird.”

As the time winds to an end you look at the staff behind the camera, somewhat shocked and saddened by the end. "Time flew by!" you scrunch up your face as you think, "I don't think I have a really good read on who it is. I think it's a man that's older than me and probably someone in the music industry since he related to so much. Maybe he's a dancer or producer of some kind."

On the other side Jaehyun is set on who he thinks it is, "it's one of my members, I know it. I think it's Jungwoo or Haechan."

You both stand and turn to face your partners. Upon catching sight of Jaehyun, you immediately scream and run behind the set laughing while screaming, "you told me you had variety shows today! Go home!"

Jaehyun bursts out laughing, hunched over as his cheeks flush, "you didn't tell me either! Get back here!"

Your voice comes out loudly paired with your surprised and embarrassed laughter, "No! I'm so humilated!"

The staff manages to get you both together for the ending conversation. The cameras start filming and you smack Jaehyun's forearm lightly, "you are a horrible texter."

"What did I even say?" He laughs in shock.

"I never realized how boring you are through words, you text like an old man."

Jaehyun answers the staff as they ask how you both possible couldn't pick up on each other through the texts. Jaehyun looks at the camera while he answers, his hand holding yours beneath the tall table, "I think texting is so boring and annoying. We call each other or video call. If we open our messages we use voice notes, we very rarely actually text each other.

You squeeze his hand under the table, eyeing him with a mischievous look, “who did you think I was? You thought I was a boy, who did you have in mind?”

Jaehyun rubs his free hand over his face, already regretting his guess, “before I tell you, you have to understand my thinking. Jeno and Chenle did one of these interviews together so I just figured it could be another member. I thought you were Jungwoo or Haechan.”

You guffaw, a shocked laugh leaving you as you pull your phone out and pull up the drawing he had sent you, “this is what Jungwoo or Haechan look like to you?”

“I’m not an artist! Well, not that kind of artist, but I think it’s pretty good. I even added teeth in the smile.”

“Babe, that’s creepy.”

“Who knew you were such an art critic all of a sudden?” He playfully asks with a bobble of his head.

The staff subtly tell you both to wrap it up, reminding you to take a selfie before ending the video. You catch the cues and smile at Jaehyun, “we’ve been together for a while now but I feel like I learned a lot about you today. You text like an old man, you can’t draw, and you have a horrible memory.”

“Hey! You didn’t know who I was either! The food orders didn’t give anything away?”

“We’re talking about this later,” you decide to reply as you lift your phone to take a selfie.

“Wait, lift it to this angle,” Jaehyun instructs as he gently moves your arm.

“Wow, so bossy,” you mumble jokingly as you snap the picture.

The screen goes black with the selfie of you and Jaehyun with matching bright smiles on your faces as yours and Jaehyun’s laugh transition into the ending of the video.

[tbaluver]

I LOVE YOUR WORK, OMG. i've been binging it since morning, and it's a good wake-up read (ꏿ௰ꏿ) can i request a scenario where reader likes to roam around naked (like, they're already way far into the relationship where they're comfortable enough to do that) and it surprise the four lis. also, they just randomly walk in on reader lying down and playing with their nipples and kneading their own breasts just because. what would their reaction be to that?

Walking Around Naked- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content a/n: hihi anonnie! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) tysm for reading my works its an honor for my works to be read esp in the morning ily .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. ♡ i hope this was alright maybe slight ooc but just close ur eyes if it feels like it is (ᵕ—ᴗ—) but i hope you enjoy reading angel (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would make sure there is no one around the house, even though you both own the house and it's literally only the two of you. His cheeks were flushed pink and he's trailing behind you to wrap his arms behind you, pressing his very obvious hard on through his sweats. Looks like he's not the only one with the flushed cheeks.

He would honestly join in walking around the house naked and find it comfortable. He would pull you closer to cuddle and you'd feel his cock harden under your ass but that just means it's easier to slip it in.

"Do you mind if I join you honey?"

If he saw you playing with your boobs, he'd ask if he can join you before settling down on top of you. He'd play with one of your nipples with one hand while the other kneads your breasts. Sometimes he'll just pop one in his mouth, sometimes making eye contact with you as he does so

Zayne:

As always, Zayne was immersed in a patient report on days when he’s not in his office until he glanced up and caught sight of you walking around the house naked. His focus faltered, doing a double take and momentarily losing focus on the task on his laptop. Clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses, he attempted to refocus back to the patient's details but the images of you clouded in his mind. Eventually he couldn’t resist it and made his way to you

Since this is an often thing, he will tell you to make sure to put on slippers or something warm to slip on when it's cold. He would offer his own robe that he wears around the house and he's not doing this because he thinks you should cover up but because he doesn't want you to get sick!

This man loves your boobs. Mouth or hands or the combo of both are always latched onto them whenever you let him have the chance. So whenever he walks in on you casually kneading your breasts and playing with your nipples, he’d already forgotten what he needed to do in the room in the first place.

“Ahem. Are you cold? You might get sick without a blanket. Here I’ll join you to warm you up.”

You’re not one to complain whenever he joins you. He’ll settle you on his lap and pull over a blanket over the two of you. With a content hum, one of his large hands snake up to your waist to gently knead one of your breasts.

Rafayel:

The first time you walked by his studio and he heard you, he would have his jaw dropped. Although he’s seen your body countless times, each time just feels like the first time he’s ever seen you. The painting can wait because this fishie is tailing right behind you.

Blames you for being distracting but he doesn’t really mean it- he’s actually enjoying it. If you try talking to him, you’ll notice a hint of pink creeping on his cheeks. He just doesn't want to seem rude because he just wants to take a peek a little bit lower.

“Stop! Hold that position and don’t move cutie.”

He sees your beauty in every way, inside and out. He often tries to capture you whether it’s through a photograph or a sketch, even if you move too much, yet no art can do justice to what he perceives. It doesn’t capture the warmth of your touch or the spark in your smile. Once he finishes the sketch, he'll have you looking like a Renaissance painting. You’re forever his muse, his beautiful pearl.

Most of the time, when he sees you laying in bed playing with your boobs, he’ll just make himself comfortable. He’ll crawl on top of you, resting his head against your chest, nuzzling against you with a content smile. He'll mostly tell you to play with his hair as an excuse so he can play with your boobs.

Sylus:

Honestly he’s happy that you can walk around comfortably in your shared home with him. He’s very grateful that your romantic relationship with him is constantly evolving. He would approach you with a lowly chuckle, wrapping his arms around your waist and earning a surprised squeak from you. He’ll throw in many many compliments as he peppers kisses all over your face to hear your giggle.

Very handsy. If you pass by him, he’s most likely going to give your ass a slap or give it a quick grab or squeeze. Also reminds you that his closet is yours to always use if you happen to get cold.

“Got room for one more sweetie?”

If you let him, he would shift your position so he’s lying on his back and so you can rest his head on his chest. One hand gently kneading your breasts and occasionally rubbing your bud with his thumb and index finger as you both settle into a comfy environment

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[hotchner-edu]

Pandora's Box | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: During a girl's night with the BAU girlies, a game of truth or dare may just be the cause of Aaron's odd behavior.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!F!Reader

Warnings: mentions of the devil's tango

The smell of freshly microwaved popcorn and cheeto puffs clung to the air of Penelope's apartment unit, the ringing of near-delirious laughter complementing the scent.

Emily is laying flat on the floor by Penelope's sofa, hair splayed out as she clutches her stomach. "Oh my god! You did not do that!" She laughs out, tears gathering in her eyes as JJ blushes a little and shrugs.

You four are gathered in the living room, fingers stained from snacking while playing the team's favorite party game— truth or dare. It was the night of the long-awaited girl's night, and you were all practically bouncing off the walls.

"It's not my fault! Anyway!" JJ chuckles and tries to change the topic, turning her head toward you, eyes glimmering in mischief. "Y/N, truth or dare?"

You groan and shovel some popcorn into your mouth. "Truth."

Penelope and Emily giggle in the background, knowing JJ always had some hard hitters when it came to truth or dare.

JJ grins widely and leans forward a bit. "Who in the team would you do seven minutes in heaven with?"

You let out an outraged gasp. "Jennifer Jareau! What are we? In high school?"

The blonde just laughs loudly and grins. "Oh come on! You only hate the question because you're the one that has to answer."

"Exactly." You deadpan jokingly and groan, preparing to answer when Emily interjects.

"And you can't say any of us!"

Frowning, you narrow your eyes at the woman. "Well, I was going to say you."

Emily smirks cheekily and slides her phone toward herself as she sits up, finally recovering from her laughing fit earlier. "I know, but that's cheating."

Huffing, you watch her throw her phone aside somewhere as they all stare at you eagerly. "Geez... okay, fine! Hotch! I'd do seven minutes in heaven with him." You practically shout in faux exasperation.

Penelope squeals and shakes your shoulders as JJ and Emily raise their eyebrows.

"Really?" Emily asks in shock, chuckling and leaning back on her arms.

"Well, yeah. I mean... hello. Are we all going to pretend he's not sexy?" You ask bluntly, inciting another round of squeals from Penelope as she gets ready to endlessly tease you about your admission.

JJ shrugs with a satisfied smile, pleased that you chose to answer so boldly. "Honestly, I thought you'd say Spence."

"Spencer is cute and I love him, but... c'mon. Like I have to restrain myself from slamming my head into my desk every time Hotch raises his voice at someone. And god! Don't get me started on his arms." You gush, playing up your lovestruck tone but being completely honest.

"Easy tiger." JJ mumbles under her breath with an amused smile.

Emily wiggles her eyebrows and grins. "Oh? Come on, don't skimp on the details."

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "You guys are vultures." You say jokingly and throw a piece of popcorn at her.

Penelope munches on a cheeto and shakes her head. "No, no! You never told us you felt this way for him, so we need answers!"

You concede, feeling tired of bottling up your crush anyway. "Alright, alright. Yes, I like him. I mean, it's hard not to." You explain sincerely before becoming playful again, "I think he covered me from an explosion once and I almost died feeling his hands on my waist. Like, how is it possible for someone to have such delicious arms."

"Delicious?" Emily echoes with an amused snort at your choice of adjective.

JJ snickers and nudges your foot with hers. "Careful, you're about to start drooling."

You nudge your foot back against hers and try to suppress the heat that's creeping up your neck. Unfortunately for you, Penelope is just getting warmed up.

"So, would you... y'know... do the devil's dance with him?" Penelope asks coyly, giving you a teasing smile.

"Hey, my turn is over now!" You say and chuckle, shaking your head at their antics.

Though, you should have known that they wouldn't let you get away that easily.

The three of them stare at you with puppy eyes, causing you to squirm on the spot. "Geez, yes, I would. I mean, he seems like he could use the stress relief." You joke before quickly adding, "And I'm only telling you guys because you guys look ridiculous with those expressions!"

"Ridiculous or not, it worked." Emily smirks victoriously.

Luckily, they seem to take pity on you after grilling you so hard, and they move on with the game.

The next morning, you're starting to regret having stayed up with the girls until three in the morning. Your eyes feel like they're being pressed down by bowling balls as you yawn for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Emily is in a similar state as you, head lazily propped on one hand as she sluggishly signs off on some reports in front of her.

“Let’s never do that again.” You grumble just loud enough for Emily to hear, rubbing your eyes.

She chuckles under her breath and nods a bit in agreement, eyebrows raising a bit. “Yeah, or let’s just get drunk and pass out like normal people.” She jokes.

You both snicker softly until you see JJ hurrying toward Hotch’s office with a stack of files in her arms. “Ah…” you say with a slow blink.

“3… 2… 1…” Emily counts down playfully, just as Aaron stands up and leaves his office.

“BAU team— conference room, now.” He calls out smoothly, his eyes catching yours for the briefest second before he’s practically marching off.

You stand up and stretch your arms, watching as your team starts heading over for a new case briefing.

Glancing back toward Emily, you frown tiredly. "How is JJ so peppy today?"

"Perks of motherhood?" Emily suggests and shrugs.

You and her slowly trudge toward the stairs, catching up with Derek who seemed a bit hungover.

The man pauses and glances between you and Emily, grinning playfully. “You both look like hell. Fun night?”

“Not as fun as yours, I’m sure.” Emily chuckles as the three of you walk into the conference room. You’re about to head to your usual chair when you see Aaron sitting in the chair next to it.

You pause in your step and look back at Emily. Of course, seats weren’t assigned, but there had always been an unspoken rhythm of the team occupying the same seats.

Tilting your head a little, you can see some of your team members momentarily questioning it, but shrug it off as they sit down.

“Huh…” Emily says under her breath and hides a smirk, tapping your lower back to usher you to sit down. Aaron had stolen her usual spot, but she didn’t seem all that perturbed by it.

You sink down into your chair, keenly aware of your proximity to his warm body as JJ hurries to the head of the table to turn on the monitor.

As she begins to summarize the details of the case and the descriptions of the victims, you’re only half listening. Aaron keeps subtly shifting in his spot, and his knee even bumps into yours a few times.

You would definitely need to reread the file on the jet.

Aaron speaks up as JJ concludes with the details, voice low and level. “The request is urgent, so wheels up in thirty.”

The team begins moving immediately, and as you’re closing the file in front of you, you feel Aaron’s hand land on the back of your chair as he gets up. You tense a little as you could feel how close his hand was to your shoulder, trying to suppress the heat crawling up your chest.

As everyone files out of the meeting room to go grab their go-bags, Emily is immediately joining your side as she speaks under her breath. "That was weird."

"It was nothing." You try to brush it off, ignoring Emily's uncertain look.

Well. Maybe it wasn't nothing.

The moment the team arrived at the New Haven precinct in Connecticut, the atmosphere was off, to say the least. Of course, it was never enjoyable to have to look at pictures of mutilated victims, or deal with officers acting independently, but the feeling you were getting was a bit ominous.

"Is it just me or does something feel different?" You whisper to JJ as she finishes up a phone call.

She looks at you and tilts her head a bit, eyes filled with concern. "Not really... why? Do you think something's off with the profile?"

You shake your head and look away sheepishly. "No, not with the case. Just... with the team?" Your words come out as more of a question as you try to articulate the emotions swirling inside of you.

"Oh. I haven't noticed anything, but we can talk when we get back to the hotel if you want?" She offers with a kind smile.

"Yeah. Thanks, Jaje..." You say softly and try to redirect your focus back onto the case.

Stepping back, you get ready to return back to discuss the unsub's possible hideout locations with Spencer.

Before you can get far, you hear JJ calling for you again. "Could you tell Hotch that the city's agreed to hold a press conference in two hours?" JJ speaks up, eyes telling you that she had a lot on her plate at the moment.

"No problem. I'll see you in a bit." You nod at her and smile before spinning on your heel to look around for Aaron.

You spot him almost immediately, hunched over a desk and flipping through some papers as the police chief hurries away from him, barking out orders to some of the officers scattered around their desks.

"Hotch. JJ said that a press conference will be held in two hours. Spencer and I have narrowed down some locations, so we'll need to work quick." You practically word vomit, trying to ignore your racing heart.

Aaron straightens up and turns to look at you. "Alright, good. Rossi and Prentiss are on their way back too." He says, reaching back to the desk for his cup of coffee, still steaming as he raises it up to his face.

Your eyebrows rise up a bit and you smile softly. "Another cup? That's like your fourth one today."

The man gives you a small smile and nods, letting himself relax a bit. "Yeah, just for some stress relief." Despite how casual his tone was, the inflection of his voice for the very last words has you freezing on the spot.

You choke on your spit a bit, and he keeps his eyes on you. "Are you alright?" He draws out, mouth twisted in concern, but his eyes swirling with a bit of humor.

"Perfect." You wheeze out a bit and give him a strained smile before hurrying away.

Fortunately, you're not forced to overthink his words and the flashbacks of your girl's night confession to go with it, as the unsub makes a critical slip-up after JJ's press conference is broadcasted.

It's only after the unsub is being transported away for booking that you're able to come back down from the adrenaline. You're sitting beside Emily on the curb stretching your tired legs as she scrolls through her phone.

"So he really hasn't called you back? What an asshole." You mumble with a frown as she updates you about the guy she's been going on dates with for the past month.

"Back to the drawing board, I guess." She sighs with a noncommittal smile. Suddenly, you see her tense up, face drawn into a disbelieving gape as she pauses in her scrolling. "Oh my god."

"What? What's wrong?" You ask and turn to face her in worry.

"I called Hotch." She says blankly, slowly looking up at you with shell-shocked eyes.

"Okay...?" You trail off in confusion, eyebrows knit together.

"On Sunday. It says here that I called Hotch." She shows you her phone screen and there at the third slot of the call log is Aaron's contact. It wouldn't have been alarming to you had you and the girls not been together for the entirety of Sunday, but you all were, plus the call history was timed to have occurred at eleven pm.

"No way... check how long the call was." You whisper hurriedly, watching as she hurries to press the information button, nearly calling Aaron on accident in the process.

"Three minutes..." She breathes out in shock.

"No way..." You lean back and slap a hand over your mouth. "I think he heard my confession about him."

"What?" Emily hisses at you in panic, looking around at your teammates who were scattered around the sea of haphazardly parked Buicks.

You nod and rub your temples. "Earlier at the station, he made a comment about needing a stress relief."

"Okay, but that could mean nothing." Emily tries to reassure you, sputtering a little as she tries to come up with alternative explanations.

"I don't think so, Em." You groan and lean your head against her shoulder. "We've both noticed he's been acting different."

"Oh gosh... Did I butt-dial him?" She asks in shock to no one in particularly, laying her head against yours.

Chuckling dryly, you suddenly remember how she had been tossing her phone around during the game. "Yeah... I think it's even worse because I was sober when I said it."

"If it makes you feel better, I've done far more embarrassing things while sober." She says, staring off into the distance.

"I believe that." A small huff leaves you, tone subdued as a small smile of acceptance takes shape on your face. "Oh, and Em?"

"Hm?"

Your eyes flicker to Hotch's figure in the distance as he chats with Derek, arms crossed across his chest. "If I give you my resignation letter, will you give it to Hotch for me? I think I'm going to flee the country."

Much to your chagrin, Emily bands together with Spencer to convince you to not resign, having the younger agent ramble on about the adjustment process of finding a new job and the statistics of people who struggle with getting acclimated to a new work environment.

So rather than slipping your neatly packaged resignation letter onto Hotch's desk, you've taken to hiding out in Penelope's lair while you finish up your paperwork for the case.

Luckily, your bright-eyed friend allows you to pull up a chair at her desk, not even making a peep when you accidentally knock over one of her figurines.

You're hunched over as you write hurriedly, posture taking on a form that would make shrimps envious. As you're finishing up the last few pages of the report, a knock on Penelope's ajar office door draws both of your attention.

Standing with a hand on the door handle, Aaron is gazing at you with his eyes squinted a little due to the dimness of the room. "Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

His voice is calm, giving no hints as to what he's feeling as he cracks open the door a bit more. Penelope gives you a side glance before slowly swiveling her chair back around to pretend to work.

"Sure." You say almost inaudibly, awkwardly making your way out of the door as his eyes follow you.

Once you're both out in the hallway, he shuts the door and nods for you to walk a few paces forward to minimize the chances of your lovable tech genius eavesdropping.

"I'm almost finished with my report, sir." You say softly, stopping when you both arrive at the end of the corridor.

Aaron lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. "That's not what I'm here to talk to you about."

Mutely nodding, you wait for him to continue as your eyes move down to stare at the glossy floor.

"I'm sure you know by now, but Prentiss accidentally called me this weekend while you guys were talking." He says softly, beginning to look a bit shy. "And I just wanted to ask if you had meant what you said that night."

Your face is blistering with warmth as you try to deduce the best course of action. "I... yes. I'm sorry. I know that it must have been weird to hear, especially because I'm your coworker. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Aaron rests a hand on your arm to stop you before you can offer to resign out of shame, a warm smile painting his face. "It's okay. It wasn't weird for me... I just wish I didn't have to find out from a butt-dial." He chuckles and rests his hand on your arm.

You practically melt at the touch and you blink in shock. "Oh..."

"Honestly, I'm a bit out of practice when it comes to this kind of thing, but I was wondering if I could take you to dinner this Saturday." He asks softly, looking shyer than you've ever seen him before.

"I would like that." You respond breathlessly, not sure if you were dreaming.

Aaron grins and looks down at his shoes for a second as he tries to compose himself. "I'll pick you up around seven, if that works for you?"

"Yeah, that's perfect." Whatever future plans you had for Saturday were automatically being scrapped anyway.

"Great." He nods and gazes at you, his hand moving from your arm to your hand. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he steps back and allows you to get back to work in Penelope's lair.

As you're trekking down the hall with a giddy smile, you hear him calling your name. You turn around and see him smirking at you a bit.

"And just so you know, I like having my arms around you too."

[sunfairiess]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | soft boy jj | best friends to lovers | comfort | fluff

synopsis: reader’s battling against anxiety, and during one of her anxiety attacks jj’s there to help her.

warnings: heavy depiction of anxiety, anxiety attack.

wc: 2.1k

writing this as someone who suffers from anxiety and deals with it on her own, was really emotional; if you find yourself in this position too, please don’t be afraid to ask for help. mental health matters <3

song rec: breathin - ariana grande ♡

everyone fights their own monsters, some are physically visible, others are perceived. some people have to fight against their families, some against their friends. but one of the biggest and worst challenges, was to fight against your own head.

everyone is tormented by their own monsters. hers is called anxiety, the beast who had ruined her life.

at school, her grades started to drop because she was just so tired all the time she couldn’t even bring herself to open the textbook; half of the foods she used to love were cut out of her daily routine because she would get constant heartburn and stomach problems to the point where she wasn’t able to consume a full meal for days.

when it came to sleeping, she couldn’t fall asleep because her mind was always racing with awful thoughts. what if i don’t wake up tomorrow? do my friends hate me because i didn’t go out with them today? is my heart supposed to beat so fast? my back is hurting, is this a health condition? am i going to be alone forever? usually she would go on for hours, reaching three or four in the morning, until she either cried herself to sleep or she almost passed out because of how tired she was.

going out of the house became hard. she became afraid of taking public transportation because what if someone tried to rob her or kidnap her. she couldn’t take long walks anymore because what if something happens and i’m alone. she even had to stop going to parties because she couldn’t stand big and loud crowds of people anymore.

her mental pain became physical: constantly having back problems, her chest and throat always felt too tight to breathe, her body tingling out of nowhere all the time.

it would’ve been a lie to say all of this didn’t reflected onto her relationship with others; she never told anyone about her own problems, not that they could help anyway. so when she started to hang out less with her friends, she always had to lie. i’m grounded, i can’t go out. sorry, i have too much homework to do. i have the flu, i can’t come. my dad needs my help, i’ll come next time. eventually though, she would run out of excuses, and that’s how she ended up for the first time in a month at the château, surrounded by her best friends.

“girl, we haven’t see you in forever, i almost forgot your face.” kiara joked, nudging her a bit with her elbow.

“i know, i’m so sorry guys. past month has been crazy.” which wasn’t a lie per se, she had spent the last weeks having constant anxiety and panic attacks. in the morning, in the afternoon, at night. and every single time she felt like she was about to die, the impending fear of doom creeping inside her. it really started to become unbearable, to the point where she didn’t even notice how many days would go by.

“well you’re here now, that’s what matters.” pope chimed in, giving her a smile. somehow that made her feel a little bit more lighter, knowing that her friends didn’t actually hated her. anxiety made her overthink every little detail of her life.

even though she tried to appear relaxed the whole night, she still felt like she was being chocked by an imaginary hand, pressing harder every time she breathed. she was grateful that none of her friends noticed the stiffness in her body, it would’ve been to hard to explain everything.

at least she thought no one noticed. jj noticed, he always did. he would observe every little detail about her. and from the moment she stepped into the château he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze off of her, not even for a second. he missed her. he hadn’t seen her in weeks and he had become restless. day and night he would think about her, what she was doing, if she missed him, if she too dreamed about him like he did about her. that’s how it felt being in love with your best friend.

jj knew something was up with her. she was always full of joy and energy, but bow it seemed like she had lost her spark. he knew there was something wrong, especially when he saw her fidgeting with her rings, gazing anxiously around her. he knew something was wrong when she got up, excusing herself from the conversation, and almost running to the bathroom.

following her wasn’t probably too good of an idea, but jj was impulsive, so he did it anyway. amen to that, he would’ve dealt with the consequences later, like his confused friends asking him what the heck was going on.

as he entered the bathroom, she was sat on the toilet. her face so pale you would think she was about to pass out.

he sees her as she stares into the wall, her eyes fixed in front of her, full of fear. he notices as she bring her right hand to her throat, sliding slowly down her chest and pressing hard. he hears her breathing going faster and heavier, like she couldn’t catch a full breath. her hands shaking as she tries to ground herself and not slip into the arms of her anxiety.

jj had no idea of what an anxiety attack looked like, he had been fortunate enough to never had one, but he always thought they had to feel awful for whoever got them. but seeing her, his sweet little sunshine, shaking all over the place and being surrounded by a cloud of darkness around her, made his heart break into a thousand millions pieces. he wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how to do it in the right way. he just wanted to do something, and so he did.

“sunshine, hey. baby, look at me. c’mon lemme see your pretty eyes.” he kneeled in front of her, placing both of his hands on her knees and gently rubbing his thumbs against them.

everything was spinning around her, thoughts racing with all the emotions she bottled up and all the fears she always had. she couldn’t stop them, it felt like she was going to be swallowed up by a black vortex. but then she heard his voice, it was like hearing an angel talking. her gaze slowly shifted from the white wall to his eyes, his gorgeous blue eyes, usually shining like stars when they looked at her, but now they were the depiction of concern. she felt a sharp feeling of guiltiness running through her your veins, because the last thing she wanted was to make him sad.

“that’s it, baby. you are so pretty, my pretty girl.” he gave her a soft smile, slowly moving his hands from her knees to her thighs. he wanted to pull her close and hug her, but one time— and thank god for him and the one time jj actually listened to what he said— pope told him that when people had anxiety or panic attacks, most of the time they didn’t wanted to be touched. so, instead of being the usual impulsive jj he was with everyone, he took baby steps with her, not wanting to scare her or make her even more anxious.

her breath was slowly calming down, but the aching in your chest and the lump in her throat were still there, still feeling like she was going to suffocate any moment now, but jj pulled her out of her thoughts again.

“alright pretty girl, i need you to do something for me, ‘kay? i need you to take deep breaths with me, i know it’s hard but i’m here. you’re safe, i won’t let anything happen to you. breathe with me, baby.” his voice was so sweet and gentle, she actually thought she was going to cry because of how soft he was speaking to her and how he was trying to handle the situation. she nodded slightly, following his example as he took one deep breath and then exhaled. one deep breath and exhaled. inhale and exhale. and they went on, and on, until the tension she felt before started to leave her body, making her shoulders and back relax and her hands stop shaking.

jj didn’t say anything this time, he just looked as she regained consciousness of her surroundings. even though the attack was gone, it usually took hours before she could actually calm down completely. it was hard and she always handled them alone, but this time having him with her felt like a blessing from heaven.

feeling like she had just been pulled out of a dark hole, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. he let out a sigh as soon as he felt her flesh touch his own, his arms reaching for her hips and his face buried deep into the crook of her neck. they stayed like this for a almost twenty minutes. he only pulled her in tighter, not wanting to let go of her because he knew as long as she was into his arms, she was safe.

30 minutes later they were laying next to each other in the hammock, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his heart beating calming her, like a lullaby. his hands were both placed on her back, rubbing small circles against the thin fabric of her shirt.

jj really didn’t want to break the peacefulness that surrounded them, but he had to ask her why she never told him anything. he felt like he was failing at being her best friend. “why did you never tell me?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a whisper.

“i- i don’t know. i didn’t want to bother anyone, didn’t want to be a burden.” jj stopped moving his hands on her back, instantly lifting his head to look at her.

“okay, know that i’m not mad, but, firstly, i’m not anyone. i’m your best friend, you would never be a burden to me.” his hands moved to her cheeks, lifting her face. “i’ve been through hell and back these past weeks. not seeing you, not talking to you for more than 5 minutes on the phone, not touching you. it nearly killed me, y/n. i was always on the edge of a breakdown, constantly snapping at everyone because i didn’t know how you were doing. were you safe? were you alright? not knowing made me go insane.”

he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. he was pouring his heart out, which he never do, but he just felt like he had to do it now. “and i’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, that’s the last thing i want. i just wish for you to know how much you mean to me. you’re the most important person in my life, you’re my best friend, my ride or die, my partner in crime. you- you’re my first love, and hopefully you’ll be my last one too.”

her eyes went wide at his words, and honestly she thought she heard him wrong. “jj, what- what are you saying?”

“i know the night wasn’t perfect, but please just lemme say this now because i don’t know when i’ll get the same courage again. i love you, y/n. i love everything about you. i love that weird sound you make when you laugh too much, i love how your eyes shine when you’re talking about things you like, i love how after surfing your hair become all curly. hell, i love even the things you do that should piss me off, like when you throw away my joint because i’ve been smoking too much or when you scream at me because i got in a fight with some kooks again. i love you so much it physically hurts.”

her eyes were watery now, tears threatening to coming out in flows. she didn’t know what to say. because seriously, what do you say to someone who sees you as the most incredible human being, when you can’t even love a quarter of yourself?

you say nothing. but you can do something.

that’s why, in the quietness of the night, under the stars and while she was feeling at peace for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against it.

she wasn’t magically healed, she still had things to deal with. but now, she wasn’t on her own anymore.

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU, I SWEAR!”

WIND BREAKER BOYS + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, nirei akihiko, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader.

filled request: “Hi there i want to request something, asking Sakura, Ume, Nirei, Kaji and Suo to play fight and they accidentally hit you hard (If it's to many you can just do Suo and Kaji, no pressureeee)”

sfw. 3.2K wc. a/n: added togame! & tried to make suo & kaji’s xtra long since those 2 look like they might be ur faves <33

HAYATO SUO.

in the time you’ve spent dating suo, you have never once managed to successfully sneak up on him. not even remotely close. it’s impossible to the point that you’ve started to consider the fact that your boyfriend may have developed a sort of sixth sense since meeting you, an intuitive awareness of your presence— because as soon as you step within a three foot radius of him, his head is swiftly turning to face you, greeting you with an amused smile and a “this again?” with that tone that has your eyebrow twitching all over again.

you continue to fiddle with the bottom of your shirt from where you’re hidden behind your apartment door, anxiously awaiting for the moment suo emerges from outside. your plan was nothing short of perfect, every little detail thought out— and you were entirely sure of it this time.

you had given suo a copy of your key ages ago, so that he could come in at anytime without you needing to be there. a second check of your phone’s messages has you mentally preparing yourself when you reread his “i’m coming~” text from exactly twenty minutes ago, and you smile to yourself. asking him to come by and babysit your cat while you went on a quick snack restock errand was the best excuse, and a part of you feels a little guilty for formulating such an intricate plan just to get a scare out of your boyfriend— but it had to be done.

the sound of suo’s key wiggles inside the doorknob, your breath hitching in your throat when you hear the lock switch just a few seconds after, followed by the eerie creaking noise that your door always seems to make.

“i’m here,” suo sings out to no one in particular, his usual smile etched onto his face as he takes a peek inside. dark, and empty. nothing unusual, not that he was expecting anything out of the ordinary in the first place.

as soon as he takes a step inside, he’s going to take off his shoes first, and you jump on the opportunity. you’re quick to lunge at him the second his thumb slips in his shoe, aiming to launch yourself into his middle and crush him in a suffocating hug. you don’t miss the way he tenses for a split second, eyes widening at the sudden movement— mind immediately flashing to his first thought…. an intruder?

he doesn’t recognize you at first, your figure reduced to a blur— and all he knows is that something is headed towards him. and fast. he’s moving on pure instinct, arm reaching for the closest thing to him at that moment: your arm.

you gasp when you realize just how agile your boyfriend really is. the truth is— you’ve never seen him fight, and he doesn’t really talk to you about it. he has a habit of leaving all the details out, and you don’t usually find yourself asking him about it after seeing the way he’s always coming out of fights unscathed. so sure. you knew he was probably pretty strong.

but you had no idea he was like this.

“w-wait!” you yelp when his foot comes to loop around your ankle, and you’re suddenly falling backwards. your hand desperately moves to catch onto something— anything to avoid falling onto the floor, so you grab a fistful of suo’s shirt.

he’s clenching his jaw in shock when you roughly yank him down with you, the familiar sound of your voice registering a second too late, because the two of you are crashing onto the ground a second later, suo’s weight knocking the wind out of your chest.

there’s a moment of silence as the two of you wince, your eyes fluttering open to meet with suo, looming over you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. genuine concern … and what looks to be .. shock?

it takes you another moment to take note of the subtle warmth you’re feeling until you finally recognize it as suo’s hand that’s currently cradling the back of your head— and you’re at a loss as to exactly when or how he managed to do that in only a split second.

“i’m sorry,” suo chuckles sheepishly, “you got me this time. i really thought you were an intruder.”

“but did you hit your head? hard? are you okay?” he continues, other arm coming to pull you up and hold you against his chest. “tell me.”

“i think so,” you’re barely able to mumble, heat rushing to your cheeks at the realization that suo’s first thought wasn’t to cushion his own fall, but to protect your head instead. “not that hard though… i think. it doesn’t hurt very much.”

suo’s gaze on you is suddenly much more noticeable, and you’re tearing your eyes away from him a second later, sneaking glances back and forth as he continues to search for any signs of pain.

none that he notices, and the way your lips are pressed in a nervous line is a good sign, at least. suo lets out a relieved sigh before he’s smiling again, as if you hadn’t just spooked the sealed spirits out of him.

“let’s not do that again, okay?”

KAJI REN.

you’ve never seen the night market this packed in your entire life.

it’s so busy that it’s almost suffocating, each breath taking double the effort from the way your body is being smothered between people as kaji leads you towards the food stands.

‘the best fried octopus you’ll ever try,’ your friend had said…but you’re seriously reevaluating you and kaji’s decision to come here— on the busiest night all summer to top it off.

it definitely wasn’t the best idea the two of you have come up with.

you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve said the words “excuse me!” and “sorry, getting through!” tonight. a part of you feels bad for your boyfriend— because you knew kaji was way worse off than you, the scowl on his face running the risk of being permanently etched onto his face from the sheer intensity of his glare. the grip he has on your wrist is tighter than ever before, trying his best to weave his way through the crowd without losing you.

kaji knows his mood is worsening each time someone bumps into him, and twice— or even three times as much when he feels someone bumping into you instead. he can feel the way your body roughly jerks back from the impact, and it was stressing him out more than he could imagine. the possibility of losing you and leaving you all alone in an aggressive crowd like this was the last thing he wanted.

he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear you call out his name the first time, or the second time. not even the third time. he doesn’t hear your voice trail off a bit when you mention that his grip is starting to hurt a little— to maybe hold hands instead.

he didn’t hear any of it.

kaji catches a glimpse of an emptier area, and he’s suddenly pulling harder at your wrist to lead you to it, not hearing you squeak out an “ouch, that hurts!”

and it hurts badly, warm tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to try and keep up with him. it’s only when he suddenly jerks you around a corner that you’re tripping over the curb, stumbling and crashing into his back with a loud ‘ouch!’ that he finally turns to take a look at you.

kaji’s eyes are widening at the sight— your teary eyes peering up at him through wet lashes and your hand gingerly rubbing at your wrist. his words catch in his throat, barely able to sputter out an “are you.. okay?”

you shake your head quickly, lips tugging to a shaky frown. “you were hurting my wrist, kaji.”

his chest feels tight.

kaji is quick to bring your hand in his, gently cupping your hand as he looks at your wrist, and the guilt is flooding through him all at once. the thought of hurting you has him grimacing, feeling physically ill just thinking about it, and it’s not long before his mind is racing through all the scenarios.

he didn’t want to hurt you— and he doesn’t want to be someone you saw as ‘dangerous’ either. your wrist was so delicate, and it was a terrifying reminder of his strength— because he didn’t even realize that he was squeezing in the first place.

he truly had no idea.

“it’s okay,” your voice slices through the thick air, ripping him out of his thoughts, “i know you were stressed— it was scary over there.”

“i was scared too, kaji.”

the gentle smile you give him is the only thing that can bring him this much comfort, he thinks. it’s enough to clear his head, his heartbeat settling down, and he’s ripping another lollipop open before popping it in his mouth, turning and kneeling onto the floor.

“you can get on.”

even without his words, it’s a gesture you’re very familiar with— so you don’t hesitate for a second before climbing onto his back, arms circling around kaji as he lifts you up. there’s a subtle pink dusting the tips of his ears when you press a gentle kiss to his head, thanking him for carrying you.

“it’s not a problem,” he grumbles, voice coming out low as a futile attempt to hide the excited thump of his heart.

“get comfy up there, because we’re not leaving this damn market until we get a hold of that octopus.”

NIREI AKIHIKO.

nirei swears that he had no idea that the pillow he had just thrown towards you a moment ago had buttons decorating the outside.

he really didn’t know, and of course it was the only pillow that happened to land right on your face.

“i’m so sorry! are you okay?” his voice comes out frantic as he rushes towards you, terrified eyes watching the way you rub your eye and groan in pain. this was terrible, he was terrible. pillows were never supposed to cause you any pain.

“it…it hit your eye? i’m so sorry,” he repeats, hands coming up to do something— wave around you in panic, because he’s not quite sure if he should touch you or leave you be. his hands hover just in front of your face, mind racing with potential ways he could help.

he jolts when you laugh a bit.

“you really picked the worst pillow,” your laugh comes out strained as you try and blink, vision spotted with dots from the hit you’ve taken. “…it’s okay though.”

it takes you a couple more seconds to see nirei clearly, and you can tell that he’s absolutely devastated with just one glance, nervous hands finally coming to grab at your shoulders, keeping you still so he can inspect your eye.

“let me see.”

he’s leaning in a bit, until his face is just a couple inches in front of yours. “i think um,” he squints a bit, ignoring the warmth rising to his cheeks from the proximity, “i think your eye looks fine.”

the guilt is still eating him alive. a part of him wishes that you had been the one to grab that pillow instead, because he’s certain he would have jumped on the opportunity to tank a hit from a buttoned pillow a thousand times before letting it hit you just once. straight in the eye. anywhere. it doesn’t matter to him.

“it probably is,” you give him a small smile, “but you still cheated. i won that fight.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“i-i didn’t know you were there!”

sakura’s a complete and utter mess, and he genuinely didn’t know any better. he didn’t hear you creeping up behind him, so when your arms suddenly wrapped around his middle, his reflex was to jab his elbow straight behind him— and it hit you square in the face.

he could feel his heart shatter into pieces when the sound of your yelp rang in his ears, jerking his body around only to see you stagger backwards, clutching your nose and peering up at him through those teary eyes.

sakura doesn’t know what to do. you’re sniffling now, your arms reaching out to hug him a second time, your voice barely coherent as you start babbling with a shaky voice, the only words he could recognize being “i deserve a hug for that.”

he’s a complete mess. he’s stiff when he lets you wrap your arms around his middle this time, face flushed with red at the simple touch and his heart hurting at the sound of you sniffling against his jacket, hand coming to wipe at the tears welling up in your eyes.

it’s impossible for him to not think of the worst— because he knows other guys wouldn’t be making this kind of mistake. his friends wouldn’t have elbowed you in the face in the first place. or at the very least, his friends would know how to comfort someone in this type of situation. he wants to kick himself for just standing there, words catching in his throat every time he tries and apologize.

“sorry…” your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to yank him out his thoughts. “i shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

it takes sakura a couple seconds before his mouth is falling at the apology. “huh?” he’s dumbfounded, hands coming to grab at your shoulders, “i should be apologizing!”

his face erupts in a furious blush when you giggle at his reaction, thumb coming to swipe at the tears that have spilled onto your cheeks. it’s only then when he tugs you back into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your head to hold you flush against him.

he thinks it’s because he can’t stand to see you cry.

“o-oh?” you whisper against his chest. “this is new.”

sakura chooses to ignore your little remark, clenching his jaw as he glares at your wall, gaze locking on anything except you. “i should be sorry,” he repeats again, his voice barely coherent with the way he’s fighting against his blush, “so you should just … you know. tell me. when you want a hug..”

TOGAME JO. (pet name: doll)

“that’s not right, doll,” togame coos from below you, lips tugging into an amused grin as he watches you struggle to master the self-defense moves that you asked him to teach you an hour ago. or maybe two. it’s normal for him to lose track of time when he’s with you anyway.

your boyfriend doesn’t seem to realize that you don’t have the same stamina he does. or the focus, because you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again— unsure if it’s because you’re embarrassed of your confused attempts at grabbing him, or if it’s the fact that he’s so casually sprawled out underneath you.

“you listenin’?”

you perk up, followed by a delayed nod. a little too obvious, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you grab me here,” his voice is gentle, guiding your hands back to hover over his body, “and then you pull. remember?”

and you nod again. but the sound of his voice, slow and steady, paired with the way he’s lazily propped up on his elbows to look up at you through tired eyes has your mind spinning all over again, instructions already going out your other ear as you try again and take a large fistful of his sweatshirt.

“..like this?”

he hums, lips tugging into a smile. “that’s good, doll. now pull the way i showed you.”

and you do— or you try to. you tug with all your strength, but you can tell he hasn’t moved an inch. you can hear him hum in wonder above you, and that’s all it takes for your eyes to slam shut as you jerk and pull with all your strength— and you feel some movement for the first time tonight.

“wait…” togame interrupts, but you don’t stop, pulling and pulling— not realizing you’ve inched towards to very edge of your mattress. “wait— we’ll fall,” he repeats with a little more urgency.

it’s a second too late when you realize it, eyes shooting open the second gravity tips the balance, and you’re plummeting backwards with a shriek. togame’s twisting his body to catch you as fast as he can, but the frantic movement has his fist connecting with your cheek before he grabs a hold of you, yanking you upwards and into him.

“fuck,” you wince, rubbing your cheek with the back of your hand as you huff. “that hurt a bit..”

“sorry,” togame lulls, legs spread to have you seated right in front of him, “i was trying to catch you… didn’t mean to smack you like that. are you okay..?”

his hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look at the him. the familiar heat in your cheeks returns as soon as you lock eyes with him, because he’s so close. you can feel his breath fan against your lips with the proximity.

and he’s looking right at you.

“‘m okay,” your voice is just above a whisper, “you barely even grazed me, anyway..”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

“when did you take that?!”

your arms shoot up to reach for ume’s phone, cheeks burning with embarrassment— because that had to be the most foul photo you’ve ever seen of yourself. the sound of your boyfriend erupting into the loudest laugh you’ve heard all day only has you seething— and he’s effortlessly holding his phone just out of your reach, as if to taunt you even further.

“you don’t need to know,” he grins widely, watching the way you shift your weight onto your toes in a futile attempt to reach his phone. “and it’s cute! you don’t think so?”

“give it!” you hiss, and you lunge forward to start pulling at the arm that has the phone, “i’m deleting it!”

“no way,” he retorts with a huff, but you’re pulling his sleeve with your full strength, and it catches ume off guard a bit, foot stumbling forward a step. he’s never seen you pull with all your might— so he just wasn’t expecting it.

you’re lunging again before he’s regained his balance, and he shifts his weight backwards, lower back colliding with the table behind him. his phone slips from his grip too fast for either of you to react, and it lands on your nose with a sickening thud.

his laughter vanishes as soon as you’re letting out a pained yelp, hands coming to clutch your nose, squeezing the bridge to ease the pain.

“ow….” you whimper, voice cracking a bit as tears start to flood your lash line. his heart breaks in two when he sees you sniffle, desperately blinking away the tears that threaten to spill as you check your hand.

no blood. just a lot of pain.

“i’m so sorry,” he’s hovering over you within a second, nervous arms fluttering just above your frame— because he hasn’t quite figured out what to do, and you look so fragile like this. he just doesn’t want to break you.

“..are you okay?” he breaks the silence, “let me see you.”

your face is buried in your hands when ume kneels in front of you, hands coming to gently tug at your wrists so you can look at him. “i’m sorry,” he repeats even quieter, worry flooding his expression when you tear your gaze away from him.

it’s your attempt at trying to get rid of the tears threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know know that. his lips are tugging into a deep frown, eyes filled with worry as he tries to get you to just look at him again.

“look at me, okay?” he whispers, “let me see.”

a deep inhale, and you’re trying to make your voice come out steady again. “i think..i think it’s okay.”

your eyebrows furrow. “you klutz…”

the relief in his face is almost too obvious. he’s taking a sharp inhale, opening his arms to urge you to come for a hug. “i know,” he chuckles, “are you sure? you’re okay?”

you give ume a nod, ignoring the throbbing in your nose as your arms wrap around him, holding him close against you. “i think i’ll be okay if you delete that.”

“no way,” he retorts, relieved that you're at least not crying anymore. "but i'll give you cuddles. deal?"

he's pulling you tighter against him before you even give him your answer, and his shoulders relax a bit when you finally nestle into his arms, leaning into his hold with a soft smile and a throbbing nose.