#if you plan on reading this wait for part two because I have explained maybe half the session so far

[focusonkayjay]

stuck with you | (2/5)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Word Count: 20.4k+

Chapter Warnings:  butchered representation of a scene from the anime "attack on titan" (im sorryfjhjfghierg), mentions of blood and some gorey stuff because of the anime scene hhhh, jaehyun is a huge dick, heavy on the angst, lots and lots of angst, again some inaccurate econ and comp sci things, oc is just an oblivious cutie </3, did i mention angst

cher's notes: second part is here ahhhh !! there’s a lot happening in this chapter, so buckle up. also — i finally decided this mini series will have 5 parts in total, which means the chapters are gonna be on the longer side because i want to squeeze in everything. and to my lovely EBYT readers — the next part is officially dropping tomorrow YAAAHOOOO. thank you so much for reading and supporting, it means the world. stay tuned and let me know how you’re feeling about this series so far !! now let me go catch up on all your sweet reblogs and replies eeee !!

★ PLAYLIST ★ MOODBOARDS

two: it doesn't take much

"Kook, you free?" you call out, leaning against your doorframe, eyes fixed on Jungkook, who's sprawled across the couch, one arm draped lazily over his stomach as he scrolls through his phone. At the sound of your voice, he instantly looks up. "Yeah, why?" he asks, locking his screen.

"Come here." You don't wait for a response, disappearing into your room and like always, without a second thought, Jungkook gets up, padding down the hall to get to your room.

Jungkook loves your room. 

Loves the way your room always carries a faint trace of vanilla intertwined with something floral—jasmine, maybe, or that one candle you always keep burning on your nightstand, housed in a delicate frosted glass jar. He loves how the soft glow of your LED lights bathes the space in warmth, how everything—your desk, your computer, your shelves—is so meticulously arranged.

Your room is just so... you, and every time he steps inside, he can't help but take it all in, admiring the way you've turned four plain walls into something that feels like a world of its own.

His gaze immediately falls on the huge box resting on your bed, and he doesn't even have to ask because frankly speaking, he's seen this sight plenty of times to know it's another PR package.

"Sit." You grin, already taking a seat on your bed, gesturing at the empty spot in front of you. "I got these lip stains in the mail today." you explain, excitement lacing your voice as you pat the box. "Wanna test them out with me? Pleasseeee."

Jungkook wonders why you're even asking, why you're evening saying 'please' because when has he ever said no to you?

He simply huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he settles onto the bed, sitting criss-cross in front of you like he's your personal test subject. You giggle as you carefully start unboxing the package, peeling back the layers of wrapping with an almost childlike excitement.

Jungkook watches, momentarily distracted—not by the package, but by you. 

The way your eyes light up, the way your fingers move with care as if unwrapping something precious. The packaging is extravagant, unnecessarily grand for something as simple as lip stains, but when he sees the way it makes you smile, he figures maybe that's the point. 

Maybe it's meant to make people feel like this. And if that's the case, then he hopes every product you ever receive comes wrapped in the prettiest boxes, because the look on your face right now?

Yeah, he'd like to see that again.

"Wow..." you breathe out, eyes wide with amusement as you take in the sight before you—eight lip stains neatly nestled inside the box. You weren't expecting this, especially not so soon. 

The brand had sent you PR before, after that one tiktok you made for them, but this? The limited-edition collection, delivered straight to your doorstep? It was definitely a pleasant surprise.

"Look at all these shades." you gasp, voice laced with excitement as you carefully pluck out the first one. The colors range from soft pinks to deep berry tones, each more tempting than the last. You turn to Jungkook, eyes gleaming. "Wanna try this one?"

Jungkook raises a brow but doesn't protest because again, when has he ever said no to you? 

"These are peel-off lip stains." you explain, twisting the cap and the scent—sweet, vaguely fruity—drifts up immediately. "Peel-off?" Jungkook repeats, skepticism creeping into his tone.

You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, you apply it, wait a few minutes, and once it dries, you just peel it off. It leaves behind a stain."

He furrows his brows, still struggling to wrap his head around the whole concept, but he nods anyway. Because, really, if there's one thing Jungkook has learned, it's that when it comes to you and your beauty experiments, it's better to just simply go along with it.

"Come here." you say, nudging the box aside to make space as you inch closer. Jungkook straightens his back, his hands resting idly on his lap as he waits, patient and compliant, like always. 

With one hand, you gently cup his chin, steadying his face. Your fingers are warm against his skin, and Jungkook swallows, trying to ignore the way his pulse betrays him. Slowly, with careful precision, you begin tracing the outline of his lips.

And that's when it hits him. The proximity.

It's not unfamiliar—this has happened before. Every time you apply something to his face, you get so, so close that he can almost feel your breath ghosting against his skin. But somehow, it never stops setting off a chain reaction inside him. 

His breath catches the moment the wand glides over his lips, and he notices—of course, he notices—the way your eyes remain so intently focused on his mouth.

God, this is not good for his heart. His poor, overworked, utterly helpless heart.

Before his thoughts spiral any further, before he lets himself feel too much, he does what he always does—he closes his eyes. Shuts out the sight of you, the nearness of you, the way his chest tightens at the thought of you. Because he is not god's strongest soldier.

Once you finish filling in his lips with the product, you sit back, tilting your head as you admire your work. That's when Jungkook finally opens his eyes.

The color of the peel is darker than the actual stain—almost unnaturally so—and it makes him look... well, a little funny. You try to hold it in, but a giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it.

"What?" Jungkook asks, brows furrowing in confusion but the moment he speaks, something feels off. His lips feel stiff, like they've been coated in wax, and the weird sensation makes his frown deepen.

"Don't talk." you say quickly, waving a hand in warning. "You have to let it dry first."

His expression remains skeptical, but he still obeys. Your attention, however, has already drifted back to the box. While Jungkook patiently waits for his peel-off stain to dry, you figure it's time to test out another shade yourself.

"Which one should I try?" you hum, tapping your chin in thought. Then, pushing the box towards him, you grin. "You choose for me."

Jungkook takes a moment, scanning the neatly arranged tubes. His eyes land on a deep crimson shade—rich, elegant, the kind of color he just knows will look good on you. Without a word (because someone told him not to talk), he simply points at it.

You smile, clearly pleased with his choice, and take the tube in hand. Reaching for the little mirror on your desk, you carefully begin applying the stain to your lips, oblivious to the way Jungkook watches you, his own lips still tingling, his heart still hopelessly traitorous.

God.

The way you apply that stain to your lips—so slow, so precise, like it's a ritual rather than just makeup. The way your gaze lingers on your reflection, eyes flicking over every detail as you smooth the product across your lips with effortless grace. 

Jungkook swears he's never seen anyone look so mesmerizing while doing something so utterly mundane.

It's ridiculous, really, how something as simple as this—just you, applying lip stain—has him completely entranced. His pulse trips over itself, his stomach does this weird, weightless thing, and suddenly, he's wondering if it's normal to be this enchanted with someone.

And then, just as quickly as you began, you're done. You twist the cap back on, set the mirror down, and turn to him with a soft, satisfied smile. You begin fanning your lips and gesture Jungkook to follow. He blinks, forcing himself to shake off whatever daze he's in before wordlessly copying you.

So now, the two of you just sit there, cross-legged on your bed, silently fanning your lips with comically serious expressions. If anyone were to walk in right now, they'd probably think you were performing some bizarre ritual.

Jungkook should find this ridiculous. Maybe even funny. 

But all he can focus on is the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes dip with each slow blink, and the effortless way you exist—completely unaware of just how much space you take up in his head.

After what feels like forever, Jungkook notices you reaching for the mirror again. His gaze follows the movement of your fingers as you carefully press against the edge of the lip stain and begin peeling it away. His brows knit together slightly because, for a second, it almost looks like you're peeling off a layer of your skin.

But then, as the translucent film lifts, the color left behind on your lips begins to show, seamlessly tinted like a watercolor painting. And suddenly, the whole concept makes sense to him.

You peel away the last bit and turn to him with a smile. "Looks nice?"

Jungkook nods, eyes still fixed on your lips, like he's studying every shift of color, every little detail. "Come here, let me do yours too," you say, gesturing him closer.

Without a second thought, he inches forward, bringing his face to your eye level, and for the second time tonight, he finds himself painfully aware of your proximity.

Your fingers gently take hold of the dried stain on his lips, peeling it away while Jungkook sits perfectly still, his breath hitching just slightly at the sensation, his gaze locked onto your face. 

And then, just as the final layer comes off, you let out a delighted gasp. "Oh my god !!" you beam, tilting your head to admire the color. "This shade looks so good on you."

Jungkook blinks, lips slightly parted. He doesn't know what's worse, the fact that you're still so close, or the fact that you're looking at him like that, like he's something pretty.

You lean back slightly, pulling the box closer, skimming the fine print with a look of mild amusement. "Hmmm... it says here that these are kiss-proof." you giggle, tapping the side of the box. Then, with zero hesitation and far too much nonchalance, you glance at Jungkook. "Should we test that out?"

And that's it. That's how Jungkook dies.

You want to test it out? 

With him? 

Test it out... how exactly?

His brain stutters. His body forgets how to function. His soul quite literally leaves his body and ascends to the heavens for a moment before violently crashing back down into the reality of what you just said.

There are several things happening inside Jungkook right now, and none of them are good for his well-being. His heart is in the middle of a full cardiac arrest, his stomach is doing something between a backflip and a complete nosedive, and his entire nervous system has gone into DEFCON 1. 

The mere thought of your lips on his—of actually getting to kiss you, even under the guise of some ridiculous experiment—is enough to send him spiraling. His pulse is thunderous. His breath? Completely nonexistent.

"You... you want to test it out?" he croaks, like he needs to double-check before his imagination starts running off the rails. You nod, completely casual, as if you didn't just send his entire life into turmoil. "Yeah, why not?" you shrug.

Why not ?? 

WHY NOT ?! 

Oh, Jungkook can think of a million reasons why not. Maybe because he has spent months suppressing every urge, every look, every stray thought about how insanely, stupidly in love with you he is? 

Maybe because the idea of your lips even remotely close to his, is enough to send him into a self-destructive spiral? Maybe because if this actually happens, if he actually gets a taste of something he has wanted for so long, there's no way in hell he'll ever be able to come back from it?

"Oh... O-okay." he stammers, because—obviously. What else is he supposed to say? 

No? No?! That's not even a possibility.

He braces himself. Inhales sharply. Inches just the tiniest bit closer, his eyes fluttering shut, waiting, anticipating, standing on the precipice of something life-altering.

This is it. This is the moment his world shifts on its axis. The moment he has his first ever kiss kiss with none other than... you, the girl he's been hopelessly, irrevocably in love with for months.

And then—

A loud, exaggerated smooch sound fills the air.

But he feels... nothing. 

No soft pressure against his lips, no warmth against his skin and that's when he slowly opens his eyes, only to find you inspecting the back of your hand.

"Wow, these really are kiss-proof." you muse, turning your hand under the light, admiring the complete lack of transfer.

Oh.

Oh.

So that's what you meant.

Jungkook just sits there, utterly motionless, trying to reboot his entire existence. Of course that's what you meant—testing it on the back of your hand, like a normal person. Like a sane person.

Meanwhile, he? He was two seconds away from experiencing cardiac arrest over the sheer possibility of kissing you.

"You should do it too." you say, finally looking up at him, still completely unaware of the absolute catastrophe you've just triggered inside him.

Oh, should he? Should he go ahead and casually press his lips to his hand like this is some simple, scientific experiment—like he didn't just mentally prepare himself to kiss you, like he didn't just have a full-blown crisis over it?

Jungkook swallows hard, blinking at you in disbelief. He has two choices here—either expose himself completely and let you see exactly how down bad he is, or just go along with it, pretend he wasn't internally combusting moments ago.

So, with what little dignity he has left, he clears his throat, nods stiffly, and hesitantly lifts his hand to his lips. The second they touch, he glares at his palm like it personally offended him.

Yeah. Great. Exactly what he wanted to be kissing right now.

Eventually, Jungkook loses track of time. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting in your room, letting you test shade after shade on him, obediently parting his lips whenever you tilt his chin, watching as you do the same on yourself with that same meticulous focus that drives him absolutely insane.

By the time you're finally done testing them all, you lean back and let out a satisfied sigh. "Oh my god, I actually love this product." you gush, eyes twinkling. Then, you turn to him. Jungkook blinks, still caught in the haze of his own thoughts, and god, the poor boy looks exhausted. 

"Oh my god," you gasp, brows furrowing. "Did I wear you out?" you ask and Jungkook stares at you. No, he's not worn out. He's still internally screaming over how catastrophically, idiotically stupid he is.

How could he have just assumed you wanted to kiss him? How did his brain take "Should we test that out?" and spin it into some earth-shattering, life-changing confession? How did he let himself believe, for even a second, that you—his roommate, his favorite person, the love of his goddamn life—were about to kiss him?

He wants to dig a hole and disappear. He wants to time travel back to that very moment and slap himself. He wants to not be this delusional.

"Oh... no, no." Jungkook says quickly, maybe too quickly, shaking his head in a way that's anything but natural. He hopes you don't hear the sheer devastation clinging to his words, the lingering disappointment he's trying so hard to swallow. "I was just... genuinely shocked at how well-made these products are." he lies, forcing what he hopes is a casual nod.

You beam at him, still completely oblivious. "That's true." you giggle, and just then, the doorbell rings. "Oh! That must be Jae!" you perk up instantly, getting off the bed without hesitation.

Ah. Right.

Jaehyun.

Jungkook had almost managed to forget about him for the briefest moment.

But of course, Jaehyun is still very much here. Still the same looming, overbearing presence in Jungkook's life—the human equivalent of an immovable roadblock, an unavoidable stop sign placed directly in his path.

It's almost like Jungkook can't escape Jaehyun.

No matter where he turns, no matter what time of the day it is, Jaehyun is somehow there, effortlessly inserting himself into your life in ways that makes Jungkook's skin itch.

Sometimes, he spots the two of you outside the econ building, standing too close, laughing at something he'll never be in on. Other times, he sees you sitting together along with Jimin in the cafeteria, Jaehyun casually taking up the seat beside you like he has every right to be there, like he's always been there.

But the absolute worst part? Seeing him here. In your shared apartment. In the living room. On the couch. In the kitchen. In your room. Jungkook hates how easily Jaehyun exists in it... like he belongs, like he fits. And of course, he's still your infuriatingly unavoidable, ever-present, stupid fucking assignment partner so Jungkook can't really say anything.

Jungkook hates it. Hates how it feels like Jaehyun never has to fight for a place in your world—how he just gets to be there. How, no matter how much Jungkook wants to, he can't just wish him away.

It's sickening. Truly.

And now, Jungkook has to sit here, lips still faintly stained from your little PR experiment, and watch as you rush to greet the very person who—whether you realize it or not—has become the greatest thorn in his side.

As Jungkook steps out of your room, he instantly spots Jaehyun stroll in behind you with that same effortless arrogance, the kind that makes it seem like he belongs wherever he goes, even when he doesn't. 

Jaehyun's gaze barely lingers on Jungkook before a slow, amused smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes honing in on the faint stain of color still lingering on Jungkook's mouth. 

"Yo, dude, are you wearing makeup?" He snorts, his tone laced with something condescending, something that instantly grates on Jungkook's nerves.

It's not the question that bothers him—it's how Jaehyun asks it, like it's some kind of joke, like he's pointing out something ridiculous for the sake of mocking it. Like he expects Jungkook to laugh along, to act embarrassed, to give him something.

But Jungkook isn't ashamed. Not in the slightest.

"We just tested out some lip stains." you reply casually, completely oblivious to the sudden change in the air between the two boys. 

Jaehyun lets out another scoff of a laugh, shaking his head like he just can't believe what he's seeing. "Man, that's kinda wild." he mutters under his breath, but it's loud enough for Jungkook to hear, loud enough for it to hit exactly where Jaehyun wants it to and Jungkook's fingers curl into fists at his sides.

"Yeah?" His voice is low, dangerously calm. "What's wild about it?"

Jaehyun shrugs, all nonchalance and feigned innocence. "Nothing, man. Just not something you see every day." he says but the smirk still stays plastered. 

Jungkook knows exactly what Jaehyun's doing. 

He's seen it enough times, studied him enough to understand that he's the kind of guy who speaks in veiled jabs, just ambiguous enough that if you call him out, you're the one who looks like you're overreacting. The kind who masks condescension with an easy laugh, who pokes and prods just enough to worm his way under your skin but never enough to be held accountable for it.

Jaehyun gives him one last once-over before turning his attention to you like Jungkook isn't even there anymore, like he isn't worth another second of his time. And just like that, Jungkook has never wanted to punch someone more in his life.

"Kook, can you focus?" Taehyung grumbles, clearly unimpressed by how Jungkook keeps zoning out in the middle of their match. "Sorry." Jungkook mutters, forcing himself to snap back to the game. 

His grip on the controller tightens, fingers moving instinctively as his character lunges forward in the video game, but the distraction lingers. His reaction time is slower than usual, and Taehyung instantly notices.

A few more minutes pass, and Jungkook spaces out again, his mind wandering somewhere far from the game, far from Taehyung's apartment, far from anything he actually wants to be thinking about and Taehyung finally snaps. 

"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" He groans, chucking his controller onto the couch before turning to face Jungkook with narrowed eyes.

Jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. He's been here for almost an hour now, sprawled across Taehyung's couch after a long day at uni, because Taehyung had insisted they play Elden Ring together. 

And normally, Jungkook would be invested, completely locked in, competitive, trash-talking Taehyung for every little mistake. But today, he just... isn't. Because, truthfully?

All he can think about these days is Jaehyun. And he hates it.

Hates how the guy lingers in his head like some ghost that refuses to leave, clinging to his thoughts in a way that feels unnatural. Hates how his presence is so deeply embedded in your life, hates the way you smile when you're with him, the easy way you laugh at his stupid jokes.

And most of all, he hates how Jaehyun always manages to worm his way under his skin, like a splinter buried too deep to pull out. It's the way he does it, too—so effortlessly, so casually, with those sharp-edged smirks and barely-there scoffs. 

The snide remarks disguised as harmless teasing, the subtle but deliberate pauses before his dismissive looks, the offhanded, too-innocent comments that always feel like they carry an edge meant just for Jungkook to catch. It's calculated. It's infuriating. And worst of all? It's working.

But it's not like Jungkook can say that out loud without making himself look childish. 

"It's nothing." he says instead, voice quieter than before, looking away. "Come on, Kook." Taehyung's voice softens, and Jungkook barely has time to react before Taehyung tugs the controller right out of his hands and sets it aside. "Talk to me. You've been like this for days. You don't say anything, but I know something's been bothering you."

Jungkook swallows, jaw tensing. "Come on." Taehyung presses, inching closer, his sharp gaze scanning Jungkook's face. "It's about Y/n, isn't it?"

Jungkook exhales through his nose, long and slow, because at this point, what's the use in denying it? Taehyung's like a bloodhound when it comes to this stuff and there's literally no escaping him.

"Okay, fine." he mutters, sitting up straighter. "But promise me you won't judge me." he adds and Taehyung blinks at him, looking downright offended. "Dude. When have I ever judged you? The fuck?"

Jungkook sighs because—yeah, fair. But still, admitting this out loud makes him feel ridiculous. Like he's a teenager with a stupid crush, and not a grown adult who should be handling his emotions better.

"Okay, listen." he starts "Y/n's been working on this assignment with some guy for the past few weeks, right? I think it's been, like, three weeks now?"

Taehyung nods, waiting for him to continue.

"And this guy..." Jungkook exhales sharply, fingers tightening into fists. "Something about him just feels off, you know? Like, I'm not saying I'm jealous, but the way he acts around Y/n, the way he acts in our apartment... it's just weird. He's way too comfortable."

Taehyung raises a brow at that. "Comfortable? In what way?"

"For starters, the way he talks to her." Jungkook leans back against the couch, shaking his head. "They're always laughing, cracking jokes, and sometimes... I don't even think Y/n notices it, but he just looks at her weirdly, you know?"

The moment the words leave his mouth, he instantly regrets it, because that's when Taehyung's knowing smirk appears. "Ohhh...." Taehyung drawls, grinning like the menace he is. "From the way you're talking, you are most definitely jealous, Kook."

"Tae. That's not the point here." Jungkook says firmly, fixing him with an unimpressed glare. "Okay, okay, sorry." Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, still smiling. "I mean, maybe they're just friends? They share the same major, they're in the same class... maybe that's why they seem so close? Maybe that's why he's so comfortable around her?" Taehyung tries, tilting his head in thought.

Jungkook's lips press into a tight line. "Yeah, well..." His voice trails off. "That could be it." There's a brief pause before he's talking again. "But still... something about that guy just feels so... eerie." he mutters, his brows knitting together. "Especially the way he looks at me."

Taehyung's expression falters slightly. "Looks at you?" he asks. "Yeah. Like I'm beneath him. Like he somehow knows what I feel for Y/n. Like he knows seeing him with her bothers me." Jungkook clenches his jaw, frustration simmering beneath his skin. "It's like he's taunting me without saying a word."

Taehyung tilts his head, considering. "Well... don't you think you might be reading into it too much?" His voice is softer now, genuinely questioning.

Jungkook lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, that's what I thought at first too. But it's happened so many times now that I can't just brush it off." He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "Jaehyun just knows how to get—"

"Wait. Wait." Taehyung suddenly cuts in, eyes going wide. "Did you just say Jaehyun?" he asks and Jungkook blinks. "Uh... yeah?"

"Bro." Taehyung groans as he stares at Jungkook like he just dropped the biggest plot twist of the century. "Why didn't you fucking start with that?"

Jungkook blinks, completely lost. "Start with what?" he asks. Taehyung looks like he wants to throttle him. "That the assignment partner you're talking about, the guy who's been getting on your nerves, the one who's been way too comfortable around Y/n— is Jaehyun. Jaehyun from econ." He repeats, as if saying it again will somehow make more sense.

Jungkook furrows his brows, still utterly bewildered. "Uh... yeah? That's him? Do you know him?" he questions and Taehyung throws his hands up, exasperated. "Dude, of course I know him. He's on the soccer team." His voice is flat, like this should have been obvious.

"Wait. What?" Jungkook's eyes widen. Now that is brand-new information.

"You'd know this if you actually came to my games and paid attention to my team instead of coding." Taehyung deadpans. "But anyways, that's besides the point." He quickly waves it off, redirecting the conversation back to the actual issue at hand. "Kook, that guy... he's bad news."

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers curling slightly. Because fuck, a part of him already knew. He had felt it from the start but hearing Taehyung say it out loud? That solid confirmation makes his stomach twist.

"Bad news?" He forces his voice to stay even, though his pulse kicks up. "Like... how bad?"

Taehyung sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Long story short? He's a huge fuckboy."

Of course. Of course Jaehyun was a fuckboy. 

Jungkook should have seen that coming. Should have realized sooner. But before he can say anything, Taehyung keeps going.

"Not publicly, though. Not in a way that makes it obvious, I guess. He's careful about his reputation around campus, I think... but god, I've heard him talk in the locker room... so many times, with the guys. He goes to these high-end clubs, finds random girls from other universities... and sleeps around with them."

Jungkook exhales slowly, trying to keep his composure, but there's a bitter weight settling in his chest, pressing down like a warning he doesn't want to hear but needs to.

"And what's truly disgusting is..." Taehyung pauses, like he's searching for the right words—or maybe trying to stop himself from getting sick just thinking about it. "It's how he talks about it in the locker room. He gives these guys every explicit detail of what he did, like it's some kind of conquest. The way he talks about women—like they're nothing but objects—it's fucking sickening."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, his fingers curling into fists.

"I told him to cut it out once." Taehyung continues, his voice tight with disdain. "But he just brushed me off, laughed it off like I was being sensitive. Since then, I can't really stand the guy. We're nothing but teammates now. And honestly? I avoid him as much as I can." He lets out a scoff before adding, "Even the coach caught him once, warned him to keep that shit out of the locker room. It was getting that bad."

Jungkook looks up sharply. "And did he stop?"

"Of course not. He just got more discreet about it. Makes sure no one important is around, but I still hear him whispering sometimes, running his mouth like he always does." Taehyung replies, shaking his head. 

Jungkook feels something dark stir in his chest, an unsettling mix of anger and unease.

"But so far..." Taehyung adds, hesitating for a beat. "I'm not really sure if he's brought up Y/n or spoken about her. But now that I'm hearing all of this from you... I can't help but wonder—what if she's his next target?"

Jungkook stiffens.

"You know Y/n..." Taehyung sighs. "She's popular. A lot of guys have tried to get her attention and maybe Jaehyun sees this whole 'assignment partner'  thing as his way in. Like a slow game. Build some trust and then eventually, you know..." His voice trails off, but the implication is crystal clear.

And Jungkook does know.

"I have to go." he suddenly says, rising from the couch with urgency and Taehyung instantly nods in understanding. "I need to talk to Y/n before it's too late." he adds, hurriedly grabbing his jacket and bag. 

Without wasting another second, he's out the door.

You're almost halfway through your research paper assignment with Jaehyun. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of data collection and analysis, a blur of brainstorming sessions, frantic note-taking, and the constant hum of keyboards clacking.

You've worked everywhere...  in your apartment, in the campus library and you've also convinced him to work with you during some free periods because you really just want to get over with this paper.

And right now, you're seated on the floor in the middle of your living room, surrounded by papers, pens, post-its and your laptop as you work on the assignment. 

"Ughhh, I'm so sick of this." Jaehyun groans dramatically, dropping his head onto the coffee table with a light thud. "You say that every week." you remark, not even bothering to look up from your screen as you highlight another key point.

"Yeah, well, every week, I mean it more." he huffs making you chuckle as you pat his back absentmindedly. "Just a few more weeks, and we'll be submitting this nightmare. We got this." you smile. 

Jaehyun lifts his head, eyes filled with suffering. "I hate uni so much. Not only do we have this paper sucking the life out of us, but don't forget—we have that pop quiz next week too."

"Oh yeah." you nod, unbothered and still focused on your screen. "Should be fine. I'm already prepared for it."

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. "Of course you are. Ms. 'I go viral on tiktok and get straight A's' ...You stress me out." he comments, shaking his head. "That sounds like a you problem." You shrug with a smirk, finally looking at him.

"Okay, first of all—rude." he scoffs. "Second, how do you even have time to do all this? Like, I swear, you're out here thriving while I'm over here running on two brain cells, a prayer, and an iced coffee." he rambles.

"Skill issue." you shrug, turning back to look at your computer. "Wow. Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss much?" he says, shaking his head. "You know it." You grin, clicking away at your laptop.

A few seconds pass before you exhale softly, rolling your shoulders to ease the stiffness settling in. "Hey, I'm gonna use the restroom real quick." you inform Jaehyun, stretching slightly as you rise to your feet and Jaehyun gives you a nod.

The second you disappear, the living room falls into an eerie silence but not even a full minute passes before the front door suddenly unlocks with a sharp click. The door swings open, and Jungkook storms in, slightly breathless, his eyes scanning the apartment with urgency.

"Y/n?" he calls out, his voice edged with something Jaehyun can't quite place. His breath is uneven, his shoulders rising and falling as if he ran the entire way here.

Jaehyun watches, unimpressed, as Jungkook's gaze finally lands on him—alone in the living room. "What are you doing here?" Jungkook blurts out, his tone laced with irritation, like he wasn't expecting to see Jaehyun here, at this time. 

Jaehyun smirks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the coffee table, exuding pure, effortless arrogance. "What do you think?" he counters smoothly. The question is rhetorical, and Jungkook knows it, but it still grates on his nerves.

Jaehyun's cocky demeanor sets Jungkook's teeth on edge, but he doesn't let himself react—not yet. Instead, he steps further inside, eyes narrowing. "Where's Y/n?" His voice is sharp, cutting straight to the point, though he's still catching his breath.

Jaehyun's smirk widens, like he's amused by the urgency in Jungkook's tone. "Relax, coder boy." he drawls lazily, tilting his head. "What's got you so worked up that you had to come running all the way here?"

Jungkook clenches his jaw, already irritated beyond belief. "It's none of your business." he says flatly. For a brief moment, something flickers in Jaehyun's eyes, something almost akin to surprise at Jungkook's tone, but it disappears just as quickly, replaced by another insufferable smirk. 

"Damn." he chuckles, his tone dripping with mockery. "Someone's got their panties in a twist today."

That does it and something inside Jungkook snaps.

He moves in closer, his entire body radiating tension. "Look, Jaehyun, I don't have time for your stupid fucking games." he grits out. "I know what you're up to, so cut the cocky bullshit and stop acting like you're above me when in reality, you're nothing but a pathetic fuckboy."

Jaehyun scoffs, his smirk faltering just slightly. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "I've always had a bad feeling about you from the start." he mutters, voice rough with frustration. "And today, it's confirmed. You're just another sleazebag who gets off on playing around with girls, and you probably think Y/n is your next target." His words are cutting, precise, but he's not done yet.

Jaehyun simply raises an eyebrow, his elbows still resting on the coffee table casually as if Jungkook's words don't faze him. 

"You think you can weasel your way into her life under the guise of this assignment, play the part of the helpful, charming friend, gain her trust... and then what? Wait until she lets her guard down and try to get her to sleep with you?" His expression darkens, eyes narrowing with nothing but pure, undiluted disgust. "All while trying to step over me like I'm nothing?"

Jungkook's chest rises and falls steadily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. "Well, that's not happening." he states, still staring down at Jaehyun. 

"Because I'm telling Y/n everything—who you really are, what you're trying to do. I'm going to make sure she knows exactly what kind of a pathetic excuse for a man you are before you get the chance to screw her over like you've probably done to every other girl."

For a moment, Jungkook is almost shocked by how easily the words flow out of him, but maybe that's because of the sheer anger surging through his system. Or maybe it's because of something deeper— his need to protect you. Either way, standing here, staring Jaehyun down, Jungkook feels no hesitation. No doubt.

"Are you done?" Jaehyun finally sighs, his tone almost bored. Jungkook furrows his brows, irritation flaring at how utterly unaffected Jaehyun looks right now.

"I mean, that was quite the speech." Jaehyung muses, nodding his head. "Didn't know you had it in you, coder boy." His smirk widens. "Seriously, I'm impressed. I didn't know you could string together sentences like that, let alone talk for a full three minutes straight while actually making eye contact." He chuckles, his voice dripping with condescension. "That must've taken everything out of you, huh?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, his fists twitching at his sides, ready to fire back, but Jaehyun doesn't give him the chance.

"Go ahead." Jaehyun spreads his arms out as he leans back against the foot of the couch behind him, as if inviting the challenge. "Run along and tell Y/n whatever you want." His tone remains even. "Tell her I'm some lying, manipulative fuckboy—see how that goes for you." His smirk lingers as he leans forward again, voice dropping just slightly. "You think she'll believe you?"

Jungkook stiffens at that and Jaehyun doesn't miss it.

"You got any proof?" he continues smoothly like he knows he has the upper hand here. "Because without it, you're just some desperate guy throwing baseless accusations."

Jungkook grits his teeth, his pulse pounding so hard in his ears that he barely hears the low chuckle Jaehyun lets out next.

"Y/n's known me for, what? A couple of weeks now?" Jaehyun continues. "And I've been nothing but a sweet, funny, cooperative assignment partner." He shrugs. 

"So what do you think is more likely? That she'll believe me, the guy who's actually been good to her, or you, the guy seething in the corner, throwing accusations like a jealous little kid?"

Jungkook stands frozen, his blood simmering. Because as much as he wants to fight it, as much as he hates to admit it, Jaehyun's words are getting to him.

Because how is he actually going to convince you?

How is he supposed to make you see the truth, that Jaehyun isn't who you think he is? That beneath all the easy smiles and effortless charm, he's just another predator looking for his next game? How is he supposed to prove it when he has nothing to back up his accusations?

Sure, he heard everything from Taehyung—but that's all there is to it. And if Jaehyun hasn't done anything wrong, if he hasn't pulled anything shady, hasn't let his mask slip even once in front of you, then what reason do you have to believe Jungkook? Why would you take his word over Jaehyun's?

"You know..." Jaehyun hums, dragging Jungkook from his spiraling thoughts. "If I were you, I'd be a little more worried about myself right now." He pauses for a beat, letting the weight of his next words settle in before he drops them like a grenade. 

"Imagine if Y/n found out about your feelings for her."

Jungkook's entire body goes still. His stomach twists violently, his breath stalling in his throat. He blinks, trying to process, trying to breathe, but it's like Jaehyun's words wrap around his lungs and squeeze, choking the air from his system. 

He feels stripped bare, exposed in a way he never has before, like Jaehyun just ripped open a wound he didn't even know was visible. "How did you—"

Jaehyun lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, it's so fucking obvious." he drawls, his smirk widening as he watches Jungkook with a smug expression like he can see the panic seeping into his bones. 

"Think Y/n will be pleased to know that the guy she's been living with is, what, obsessed with her?" His voice is teasing, but his words slice like a blade. "That he's been pining after her this whole time?" He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Man, that's gotta be mad awkward for her."

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.

No. No, you can't know.

You can't. Because if you did, if you ever realized the truth about the way he feels, it would ruin everything.

He's spent months burying it, shoving it down so deep it's almost suffocating—because he knows. And even though it's painful to admit, even though it eats away at him in the quiet moments when you're close but never close enough, he knows exactly where he stands in your life.

Just a roommate. Just a friend. Nothing more.

Living with you has been one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he's never wanted to risk that. Not when you trust him so effortlessly. Not when you're so comfortable around him.

He needs you to keep looking at him the way you always have—not with wariness, not with hesitation, not with the painful realization that the person you've trusted all this time has been hiding something from you.

Because what if you pull away?

What if you start second-guessing every touch, every glance, every effortless moment that once felt so natural? What if you hesitate before leaning into him like you always do? 

What if you stop walking into his room like it's your own, like you don't need permission, like you belong there just as much as he does?

What if you stop asking him for the little things—the things he's always loved doing for you? Testing out your makeup, dragging him into your random tiktoks, even though he's hopelessly awkward with them, handing him your phone and making him take a hundred pictures until you finally find the one. 

All those tiny, insignificant moments that have come to mean everything to him.

What if you stop looking at him like he's your friend—like he's your safe place—and start looking at him like he's something else?

Something he was never supposed to be.

What if he loses the little piece of you he's been holding onto all this time? What if his feelings jeopardize everything?

"Oh hey Kook, you're back." Your voice cuts through the storm of thoughts threatening to pull him under, snapping him back to reality. His head jerks up, eyes instantly finding you as you step out of the bathroom, drying your hands.

Jungkook's eyes sting, a sharp, unwelcome pressure settling in his chest, like a dagger wedged right in the center of his heart. But somehow, out of sheer necessity, he forces himself to regain his composure for a fleeting moment.

He watches as you move so effortlessly, so unaware, casually making your way to the coffee table before settling beside Jaehyun, as if nothing has changed. As if the ground beneath him hasn't just shifted. 

"Yeah... I... I'm back." His voice comes out steadier than he expects, but the hesitation lingers. His gaze flickers towards Jaehyun, who's now focused on his laptop, acting completely indifferent. But that smirk—that stupid smirk—still lingers on his lips, like he's utterly pleased with the way everything played out before you arrived. 

Like he's already won.

When he notices you return to your work, the rhythmic clicking of your keyboard filling the air, he takes it as his cue to retreat to his room.

Closing the door behind him, Jungkook throws his bag onto the bed and lets out the loudest sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses his fingers against his temples.

God, he feels like he's stranded in the middle of nowhere.

That conversation with Jaehyun has left him shaken and probably extremely disoriented. Because now, he's trapped—caught between two unbearable choices.

On one hand, he has to warn you. He can't just sit back and watch as Jaehyun plays whatever twisted game he's playing. But on the other hand, he can't risk you finding out about his feelings because he would rather die than jeopardize everything between the two of you.

But even though his own emotions feel insignificant compared to your safety, compared to protecting you from someone like Jaehyun, the fear still gnaws at him. 

You live with him, for fuck's sake. 

The last thing he wants is for you to feel pressured around him, for you to start walking on eggshells around him.

He exhales deeply, slipping off his glasses before collapsing onto the mattress, an arm draped over his eyes. For a few moments, he stays like that, willing himself to silence the thoughts swirling in his mind.

Then—faint but distinct—the sound of the front door closing cuts through the quiet. His eyes snap open. Did Jaehyun leave?

Pushing himself off the bed, he moves towards the door, stepping out into the living room. His gaze lands on you almost instantly as he watches you clear up the coffee table, gathering your books and laptop.

"Did Jaehyun leave?" he asks softly grabbing your attention as you glance up, adjusting your things in your arms before offering a soft smile. "Oh, yeah. He just left."

Jungkook swallows, standing still for a beat too long.

Maybe he shouldn't let Jaehyun's words get to him. Maybe he's overthinking it because shouldn't he at least try? Shouldn't he say something? If nothing else, shouldn't he talk to you about it, regardless of his feelings for you?

You'd understand that, wouldn't you? You'd see it for what it is—just concern, just a friend looking out for you.

Right?

"Hey, Y/n..." Jungkook starts, taking a hesitant step closer. You hum in acknowledgment, making your way towards your room to put your things away. He follows quietly, maintaining a careful distance, his pulse drumming in his ears.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, what's up?" you ask, placing your things on your desk before turning around to see him standing by your door, his posture tense and his expression troubled. "What's wrong?" you ask, your voice instinctively softening. 

Jungkook exhales sharply, his eyes darting everywhere across the room except your face. "Um..." His hands curl into loose fists at his sides, like he's bracing himself. He's trying so hard to formulate whatever he wants to say, in a way that won't sound completely weird.

"Do you... do you trust Jaehyun?" he finally asks, his voice careful, but he can already see the confusion flicker across your face, the way you tilt your head slightly, the way your lips part as if you're waiting for him to clarify—because surely, you must have misheard him. "Do I trust Jaehyun?" you repeat, blinking.

Jungkook closes his eyes, the voices in his head getting louder and louder, and suddenly, the words are tumbling out if his mouth before he can stop them. "Yeah, like... um... you know, Jaehyun's a guy and... and like I said before, he's just so comfortable around you, and... I was just wondering—"

"Where is this coming from?" you interject, your eyes narrowing slightly. "It's just..." He inhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm worried about you because Jaehyun... he seems weird and I... I don't really trust him."

Fuck.

Why does he sound so wrong right now? He's trying his best to be rational, to not sound invasive, to not make it seem like he's overstepping. But every word that leaves his mouth feels off, like he's fumbling through a minefield, one misstep away from ruining everything.

Your lips part slightly, and you blink at him, utterly bewildered. "Kook, I'm not sure what you're trying to imply, but Jae's just a classmate and my assignment partner. That's it." Your voice remains patient, steady, but the confusion is unmistakable.

"And I get that you're worried... probably because, um, he's a guy, I guess?" You exhale softly, shaking your head, but there's no bite to your words. "But trust me, Kook. I know how to take care of myself." You're not defensive. You're not brushing him off. You're genuinely hoping your words reach him, that they ease whatever is twisting inside him.

Standing here, looking at him, the only conclusion you can draw is that Jungkook thinks Jaehyun has some weird intentions with you. And that's valid, you suppose—guys can be creepy, and you know Jungkook is just looking out for you. 

But after spending so much time with Jaehyun, you've never once felt uncomfortable around him. Never noticed anything strange. So right now, this conversation barely makes any sense to you.

But then, something suddenly clicks.

You remember that conversation with Jungkook a few nights ago, when you were walking back from the diner, how he had casually, but pointedly, inquired about Jaehyun and made a comment about him getting a little too comfortable around the apartment.

So maybe... that's what's bothering him. Maybe Jaehyun's constant presence is just irritating him.

"Look..." you start again, offering a small, understanding smile. "if this is about him hanging around the apartment too much, I promise, I can always—"

"It's not about that." Jungkook cuts in quickly, shaking his head and your brows furrow slightly. "Then what is it about?"

"I just..." He exhales harshly, jaw clenching. "Y/n, I don't trust Jaehyun." he says again, but this time there's more certainty but Jungkook can tell you're still not catching what he's trying so hard to tell you. 

You on the other hand, let out a quiet sigh because you get why he's saying this—you really do. But at the same time, you need him to understand that there's nothing to worry about.

"Kook..." you start gently. "I don't know why you feel that way, but I promise you, Jaehyun hasn't done anything weird."

Jungkook's stomach twists.

"I know guys can be creepy sometimes..." you continue, offering him a small, reassuring smile, "But Jaehyun isn't like that. We're really good friends, and I trust him."

You trust Jaehyun.

Jungkook barely breathes.

This—this is exactly what he was afraid of.

Because from where he's standing, it looks like Jaehyun has already sunk his claws into you, already manipulated you into thinking he's someone he clearly isn't. And if Jungkook pushes any further, if he insists, if he prods too much, it's only going to make him look bad.

It's going to backfire. It's going to make him look like the jealous, possessive friend who can't stand the idea of you being close to another guy. 

And he can't afford that.

"I... I know that..." he stammers, pulse hammering against his ribs. "But, Y/n, he's a guy, and—" he still tries but you cut him off again. "And what?" you ask softly.

He's a fuckboy, and he probably just wants to sleep with you.

The words sit heavy on the tip of his tongue, pressing against his teeth, desperate to spill out—but he can't.

Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when you so clearly trust Jaehyun.

Jungkook feels his palms growing clammy while his chest tightens with frustration, with something deeper, something almost suffocating. God, he wants you to understand. He needs you to understand.

But how can he make you see it when every word he wants to say will only make him sound irrational? How can he explain when you're looking at him with those soft, patient eyes, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside him?

"Kook, please." you murmur, shaking your head with a quiet laugh, like you're trying to put him at ease. Your voice is so warm, so gentle, but completely, utterly oblivious. "I really appreciate your concern, I do. But trust me on this, okay? Jae's a good guy." 

You really don't see it, do you?

"I'm really thankful that you decided to reach out to me." you add, sincerity lacing every word. "But you're overthinking it, okay? So just... drop it, alright?"

You offer him another soft, patient smile. A smile that tells him you don't understand. A smile that tells him you think he's just being protective. A smile that makes his stomach churn because he sees it now... how easily Jaehyun has slipped past your defenses, how easily he's convinced you.

And Jungkook hates it.

But what can he do?

"Come on, let's have dinner." You say, effortlessly dropping the subject as you walk past him, gently patting his shoulder on the way. 

But Jungkook stays where he is, frozen in place and he can't help but feel utterly defeated.  

Days slip by after that conversation, and eventually, it fades from your mind.

You don't think about it much after that night—after all, Jungkook meant well. He always does. And in an effort to ease his concerns, you'd casually convinced Jaehyun to start working with you in the library instead of your apartment. It wasn't a big deal since it didn't change much for you.

Jungkook, on the other hand, notices immediately. 

Jaehyun's presence in the apartment had significantly decreased, and he couldn't help but regret bringing the whole subject up. Because now, you're still meeting Jaehyun—just somewhere else. Somewhere he can't see. Somewhere he can't hear the way Jaehyun talks to you, or watch for any subtle red flags.

It's frustrating. Irrational, maybe. But Jungkook can't shake the feeling that Jaehyun is just too good at keeping up a friendly act.

But apart from that, thankfully, despite everything, things between you and Jungkook remain unchanged. You don't seem to think he was being weird or overstepping that night. You're still just as comfortable with him as ever.

Like right now, you're nestled beside him on the couch, stealing his nachos while your eyes remain fixed on the TV screen as "Attack On Titan" plays and even though you usually don't care much for anime, something about this one has intrigued you enough to sit through multiple episodes today.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is watching you more than the screen, quietly amused at how you keep shifting closer, your brows furrowed in deep concentration as you try very hard to make sense of what's happening. 

He finds it endlessly endearing when you take an interest in the things he likes. Like the time you asked him to teach you Super Smash Bros. (only to suck so badly that he actually felt bad winning against you), or the time you spent an entire afternoon trying to solve a basic 3x3 rubik's cube, getting progressively more pissed off until he just scrambled it back up and pretended you were close.

Right now, your heart pounds as you grip the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, watching in horror as Eren desperately struggles to save Armin from getting eaten by the Titan. "Please don't tell me one of them's about to die right now..." you whisper, half-hiding your face behind your hands, dreading the answer.

"Just keep watching." Jungkook murmurs beside you, eyes now fixed on the television as he pops a nacho inside his mouth.

Onscreen, Eren, still trapped inside the Titan's mouth, summons all his remaining strength to hurl Armin onto the rooftop—saving him from the jaws of death. Your breath catches in your throat, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Maybe—just maybe—Eren will find a way out too.

And then, the scene continues to unfold as Eren continues to talk and slowly reaches his arm out but—

The Titan's jaws snap shut.

"PAUSE! PAUSE!" you shriek, lunging for the remote, fingers fumbling as you mash the button in sheer panic. The screen freezes mid-frame, blood splattered in the air, the horror frozen in time. Your stomach twists as you turn to Jungkook, eyes pleading. "Jungkook, please tell me Eren is not about to die right now. PLEASEEE."

Jungkook leans back against the couch, exhaling like this is some tragic burden he's forced to carry. Of course he knows what happens next. He's a veteran at this point—he's rewatched this exact scene countless times but when his gaze meets yours, they're heavy with what you assume is sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n... but Eren dies here."

Your stomach plummets. "What?"

Jungkook nods with a sad smile. "Yeah. This is one of the biggest plot twists in anime history. They made him seem like the main character, but it was all just a setup for Armin to take over."

You stare at him, mind reeling. "I—what? But—Eren... he can't just die like that!"

Jungkook sighs dramatically, dragging a hand through his hair. "I know, right? It's brutal. But the whole story was actually Armin's from the beginning. Since he always wanted to see the ocean and all, from here on out, it's about him trying to avenge Eren." he explains.

You sag against the couch, hands tangling in your hair as a groan of devastation leaves your lips. "This is insane. I can't believe Eren just dies like this."

"Yeah. It sucks." Jungkook sighs and you're too deep in mourning to notice the way the corners of his lips twitch and the way he bites his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

Then, just as your grief starts to settle in, Jungkook reaches for the remote and resumes the episode. With a deep breath, you sit up straighter, drawn back into the story despite yourself.

Eren is somehow inside the Titan's stomach, floating among the grotesque remains of those who were devoured before him. He's shaking, eyes wide with horror, talking to himself as memories flash before his eyes. For a moment, confusion flickers through you. Wait—he's still alive?

The screen goes dark for a split second.

And then—

A monstrous arm bursts through the Titan's mouth, the sheer force sending the creature staggering forward. A sickening, gurgling sound rips through the air as the Titan's entire body begins to convulse, its back bulging grotesquely before—

BOOM.

A violent explosion of steam and blood erupts, and through the thick smoke, another Titan emerges—

A Titan that looks oddly familiar.

Your jaw drops and your entire brain short-circuits.

"WAIT, HOLD ON—" You practically leap off the couch, eyes glued still to the screen. "IS THAT—OH MY GOD—IS EREN A—"

Jungkook loses it. The absolute glee in his laughter is sickening as he throws his head back, body shaking as he cackles, completely and utterly entertained by your reaction.

And you? You seethe.

"YOU LIED TO ME?!" You whip your head towards him, betrayal written all over your face. Before you even process what you're doing, your hand finds the nearest couch pillow. 

SMACK.

"Y/N, wait—"

"YOU LET ME THINK EREN DIED—" SMACK-SMACK-SMACK.

"BUT HE'S A TITAN NOW?!" SMACK-SMACK.

"HOW DARE YOU—"

Jungkook is laughing so hard that he's struggling to dodge your relentless attacks. He can barely catch his breath, eyes squeezed shut as he tries (and fails) to shield himself. He just couldn't help himself, your reactions are just too priceless.

"Y/N—wait—" he chokes out between laughs, trying to scoot away from you, but your vengeance is swift and unrelenting. And then—

It happens so fast.

Jungkook shifts to dodge another one of your swings, but his foot catches on the edge of the rug below, and in one ungraceful misstep, he stumbles—hard. Before you even realize what's happening, the momentum pushes you backward, and in the next second you land against the couch with a startled gasp, the pillow slipping from your fingers, and Jungkook falls forward—

Right on top of you.

Your breath hitches, the world around you shrinking into the mere inches that separate you from Jungkook. 

For a moment, neither of you move as his hands remain planted firmly on either side of your head, caging you in, while his chest hovers just above yours—close enough that you can feel the residual warmth radiating off him, but not close enough to touch.

Your eyes lock, wide and unblinking, both of you equally startled by the sudden shift in proximity.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and he can almost hear the erratic pounding of his heart, the violent drumming echoing through his entire system, reverberating in his fingertips, in his spine, in the very air between you.

And you?

You gulp, pulse stammering in your system as a strange warmth curls in your chest, spreading like wildfire. 

Has Jungkook always looked this good? 

Because right now, with the way his dark hair falls messily over his forehead, with the way his lips are parted ever so slightly, he looks breathtaking.

And for some reason, the sight of him above you, his body framing yours, his scent wrapping around you like something dangerous, something intoxicating... has your stomach twisting into an unrecognizable knot, your chest doing peculiar things you don't quite know how to name.

You're not even thinking straight when your gaze unconsciously flickers from Jungkook's eyes to his lips.

And he notices—immediately.

For some inexplicable reason, his tongue darts out, running over his lower lip in a slow, almost instinctive motion. The simple action sends a shiver through you, and before you can stop yourself, your breath stutters out and almost in perfect synchrony, you both exhale.

Your body doesn't move—doesn't even attempt to push him off. And the strangest part? You don't want to. There's something about the way he's looking at you, hovering over you, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your pulse stammer.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels utterly lost. What the hell is this? Why can't he move? If he had any shred of sanity left, he should be pushing himself up, putting space between you, pretending like this never happened. But he doesn't. He can't.

And why... why are you looking at him like that?

Suddenly—

The sharp, shrill chime of the doorbell slices through the air like a knife, shattering the spell in an instant. The tension between you snaps like a rubber band, leaving behind only the rapid pounding of your hearts.

Almost instinctively, Jungkook jerks upright, pushing himself away while you scramble to sit up on the couch.

"That must be—"

"I guess that's—"

You both speak at the same time, voices overlapping, only to fall into an awkward silence. Cheeks flushed, breaths still uneven, you both pointedly avoid each other's eyes, pretending as if the last few seconds never happened.

"That must be the pizza." you finally say, forcing your voice to sound normal and Jungkook nods quickly, still refusing to meet your eyes. "I'll... I'll go get it." he informs and before you can respond, he's already turning on his heel, practically fleeing towards the front door.

As soon as he disappears through the doorway, you sink back into the couch, exhaling a shaky breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your hand drifts to your chest, pressing against the frantic beat of your wild heart, like a caged animal trying to break free. 

You close your eyes for a moment, but it does nothing to erase the image seared into your mind because all you can see is the way he looked on top of you, the way he looked into your eyes, the way he licked his lips.

You have no idea what this feeling is, why the proximity has left you breathless, why your knees feel weak, or why your spine feels like something dangerously close to jelly.

Your fingers twitch against your chest, pressing harder, as if you could physically restrain the rampage inside you, as if you could will your body into forgetting the way he looked at you.

But it's no use. 

Jungkook returns with two large boxes of pizza and a couple of soda cans while you keep your eyes fixed on the screen where Attack on Titan still plays, except the storyline passes by without meaning, your mind too preoccupied to register any of it.

Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip as he walks closer, setting the boxes down on the coffee table before hesitantly lowering himself onto the couch. He keeps a noticeable distance between you, his posture slightly stiff.

God, he hopes he didn't make you uncomfortable. Prays you won't start treating him differently after this. It was truly an accident, except for the part where he just stayed there, hovering over you instead of moving. 

Maybe he should have moved. Maybe he should have reacted faster.

He's spiraling.

"That smells good." you say suddenly breaking the awkwardness before reaching for one of the boxes and flipping it open. Casually, you pull out a slice and hand it to him, like you always do.  "Here."

Jungkook hesitates for half a second, his eyes flicking to your face, but when he sees that there's no awkwardness, no tension in your expression... just warmth and normalcy, relief washes over him like a tide.

"Thank you." he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile as he takes the slice from your hand.

You pull out a slice for yourself, and the two of you settle into eating, shifting your attention back to the anime playing on the screen. The silence between you isn't heavy, but Jungkook still feels the sudden urge to fill it.

"How's your assignment coming along?" he asks, taking a bite of his pizza. "Oh, we're almost done. We should be able to submit it next week." you nod, reaching for a soda.

Jungkook hums, chewing thoughtfully. Knowing that you're almost done with the assignment eases something in his chest. Maybe once it's submitted, you won't have to spend as much time with Jaehyun but before he can say anything, you let out an exhausted sigh.

"I genuinely can't believe this semester is finally ending. But honestly? I never want to relive it again." you shudder dramatically, cracking open your soda can and taking a long sip making Jungkook chuckle beside you. "Yeah, I get that. It's been brutal."

"What are your plans for the break?" you ask suddenly, turning towards him. "Oh, I'm heading to Busan. My parents have been on my case about visiting." he answers, shaking his head with a small smile and you snicker. "Sounds like they miss you."

"Miss me? Please." He scoffs. "The second I walk through the door, my mom's gonna be like, 'Oh, Jungkookie, since you're here, can you fix the WiFi? The TV remote stopped working too. Oh, and the washing machine is making a weird noise.' They just miss getting things repaired for free."

You shake your head, amused. "Well, don't blame her. You really are the most handy IT guy. You're always fixing things around our apartment too." Your voice softens slightly at the end, making Jungkook glance at you for a beat longer than necessary.

"Yeah, that... that's true. But I swear, just because I study computer science, my family thinks I can hack into the government or... I don't know... bring back deleted WhatsApp messages or something."

That, for some reason, makes you laugh harder than you intend to. "Wait... has someone actually asked you to do that?" you gasp between giggles. "Oh yeah." he breathes out, proceeding to take a sip of his soda. "My aunt. She genuinely believed I could recover messages from two years ago." he sighs. 

"Plus, my sister's been dying to test out her new designs on me." he adds casually. Right — Jungkook’s older sister was an insanely talented tattoo artist. “Oh right, I forgot you’re her muse." you giggle, nodding toward his inked-up forearms.

It’s always fascinated you, the contrast between Jungkook’s usual nerdy demeanor and the bold, intricate sleeve that tells a completely different story. The first time you saw it, you couldn’t wrap your head around how someone like him could be covered in tattoos like that. 

But then he told you the story of how his sister first practiced her art on him, how that one small design spiraled into something bigger, how he realized he loved the way it looked and the way it felt like carrying a piece of her work with him everywhere he went.

And to be brutally honest, you think it’s one of the hottest things about him because you’ve caught yourself staring more times than you can count — when he’s slicing vegetables while he's cooking or when he's using the screwdriver to fix something or when he stretches and the ink shifts across his skin like it’s alive.

Yeah, it’s impossible not to look.

"What about you, though?" he asks after a moment, shifting slightly on the couch to face you better. "What are your plans for the break?" 

"I'm going back to Ilsan too. I miss my dad." You exhale softly, a small, fond smile gracing your lips.

Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, a small smile tugging at his lips. And for a moment, the two of you lapse into silence, but this time, it feels comfortable, like neither of you are skirting around something unspoken.

And soon enough, just like that, you're back to your usual self, tossing question after question at Jungkook, trying (and failing) to navigate whatever the hell is happening on the screen.

“I swear to god, if one more random character turns out to be a Titan, I’m throwing this pizza straight at your face.” you grumble, taking an unnecessarily aggressive bite of your slice and all Jungkook can do is bite back his smile, the kind that threatens to split his face in two, because do you even realize how ridiculously, unfairly cute you are right now? 

With his afternoon class just half an hour away, Jungkook remains perched on the kitchen island, absently chewing on an apple while his eyes stay glued to his phone as he watches a video titled: "Can You Really Cook an Egg on a PS5?"

The answer, apparently, is yes—if you block all the vents, run Elden Ring on max settings, and let it overheat to the point of near combustion. The guy in the video is currently cracking an egg onto the console, looking way too excited as the edges start turning white and Jungkook squints. 

There's no way that's safe.

Just as he takes another bite of his apple, the doorbell rings. He blinks, reluctantly pausing the video (he needs to see how this ends) before standing up. You're still in the shower, so with a sigh, he makes his way towards the front door to see who it is. 

With the half-eaten apple still in his hand, he swings the door open, only to frown instantly  because the person standing on the other side is probably not even the last person he wants to see right now.

"Why are you here?" Jungkook blurts out, not bothering to hide the irritation on his face or in his tone. 

Jaehyun merely rolls his eyes before stepping inside uninvited, his shoulder deliberately bumping against Jungkook's on the way in. "Where's Y/n?" he asks, like Jungkook is some receptionist.

Jungkook scoffs at the sheer audacity but begrudgingly shuts the door behind him. "I asked you a question." he says, keeping his voice firm, his annoyance barely contained.

Jaehyun exhales dramatically, like Jungkook is just so exhausting to deal with. "None of your business." he says, shamelessly striding towards the couch and plopping down on it like he owns the place. 

Jungkook glares, grip tightening around his apple. He considers throwing it at Jaehyun's head but ultimately decides against it as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

At least, for now. 

Just then, the bathroom door creaks open, and you step out, towel wrapped around your damp hair and your huge bathrobe cinched around your frame. You move towards your room but pause mid-step when you spot Jaehyun in the living room and Jungkook standing stiffly nearby.

"Jae?" you ask, furrowing your brows as you adjust the towel on your head. "What are you doing here?"

Jaehyun's lips pull into a lazy smile. "Since we're turning in the assignment today, I thought we could go together. You know... to Mr. Jung's cabin."

Right. Today's the deadline. 

But you distinctly remember telling Jaehyun that you'd meet him on campus, so seeing him here unannounced throws you off a bit. You glance at Jungkook, and his expression tells you instantly that he's not quite pleased seeing Jaehyun here. 

"Well... I thought I'd meet you directly on campus." you say, hesitant and Jaehyun shrugs. "I know, but I thought it'd be nice if we walked there together." He says, leaning back against the couch.

You press your lips together, debating. It's not that big of a deal, you suppose.

"Fine." you breathe out. "Give me a few minutes. I'll go get ready." you inform and as you turn towards your room, you cast Jungkook a small, almost apologetic smile, hoping Jaehyun's sudden presence isn't annoying him too much. 

The moment your door clicks shut, Jungkook steps closer, arms still crossed over his chest. His gaze locks onto Jaehyun with barely concealed irritation.

"Why bother coming here when she already said she'd meet you on campus?" Jungkook spits out, his voice edged with barely restrained irritation. "At this point, you're just looking for excuses to show up here."

Jaehyun exhales through his nose, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he leans back against the couch. "Damn, dude..." he drawls, stretching his arms behind his head. "You're not even gonna try to hide how much you hate me, huh?" His tone is amused, almost mocking like Jungkook's irritation is just entertainment for him. 

"You know... you really impress me." Jaehyun continues with a smirk, and though Jungkook isn't sure what Jaehyun is about to say, he can already tell it's something ridiculous and meant purely to get under his skin.

"I mean, I get it—my existence near the girl you're in love with bothers you. That much is obvious." Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "But honestly? I gotta give you credit, man."

Jungkook's brows knit together, irritation flickering into confusion. "What the fuck are you saying?" he grits out, keeping his voice low.

Jaehyun exhales, shaking his head like he's genuinely impressed. "Living with her must be a real challenge, huh?" His voice drops. "Knowing you'll probably never have a shot with her, but still having to see her every single day? Watching her, hoping—pathetically, might I add—that one day she'll just... what? Wake up and suddenly fall for you?"

Jungkook's grip tightens around the apple in his hand, and he's sure that if he squeezes any harder, it'll burst apart in his palm. But before he can put an end to whatever nonsense is coming out of Jaehyun's mouth, the bastard pushes forward.

"And to make matters worse, there's another guy in the picture. And it just kills you, doesn't it?" Jaehyun leans forward now, elbows now resting on his knees, his voice dripping with arrogance. "The fact that you can't do anything about it. The fact that you think I'm stealing something from you." He scoffs, tilting his head. 

"But let's be real, Jungkook. Even if I weren't in the picture, do you really think you'd ever have a chance?"

Jungkook's breath hitches. His skin is burning, his blood is boiling. "Just shut the fu—"

"You really think someone like Y/n would ever like someone like you?" Jaehyun interrupts smoothly, his scoff laced with pure condescension. "She's probably just nice to you because she feels bad for you. Because you're... well, you."

Jungkook sees red. His vision blurs at the edges, his patience fraying thread by thread. How dare this guy walk all over him like this? He parts his lips to retaliate, but Jaehyun just keeps going, reclining back into the couch with that infuriating smirk of his.

"She keeps you around because it's convenient. Because you're her roommate. She includes you in her content because she doesn't want you to feel left out." He exhales a laugh, shaking his head like he finds the whole thing funny.

Then, he levels Jungkook with a slow, smug grin. "You're like her pet nerd, man. That's honestly just sad."

At that moment, something in Jungkook shifts. His expression, once hardened with anger, flickers, just for a fraction of a second. The fire behind his glare dulls and morphs into something else, something far more unsettling. Like a slow, sinking drop in his stomach, a quiet, insidious doubt creeping in where it has no right to be.

Because as much as he doesn't want to let Jaehyun's words get to him, as much as he's always told himself that whatever Jaehyun says is just meant to provoke him, somehow, this—this—feels different. It doesn't feel like empty taunting or a cheap attempt to piss him off.

It feels like the truth.

A truth Jungkook never wanted to consider.

His grip on the apple tightens again, but his pulse wavers. He wants to scoff, to roll his eyes, to tell Jaehyun to shut the hell up and get out. But the words just won't come out. Because somewhere, buried in the venom of Jaehyun's condescending smirk, in the way he speaks like he knows something Jungkook doesn't, a seed of doubt takes root.

Do you really feel bad for him? Do you really only include him so he won't feel left out? Is he just... convenient to you because you live together?

The thoughts come fast, scraping against his skull like nails on glass. It's stupid, it's ridiculous—it has to be. He knows you. Thinks the world of you. You're the last person to be that cruel.

But it doesn't take much, does it?

Not for someone like Jungkook... someone who has spent his entire life standing on the outskirts, watching as the world moved past him like he was never meant to be a part of it.

Someone who has always been the quietest voice in the room, easily drowned out, easily overlooked. The boy who was more comfortable with equations and codes than with people, who found solace in screens or pages rather than conversations. The boy who never quite fit, who never quite mattered in the way others did.

It doesn't take much to convince someone like himthat someone like you—only keeps him around out of obligation. That maybe every laugh, every kind word, every inclusion was never because you wanted him there, but because you felt like you had to. 

That maybe, in the grand scheme of things, he is nothing more than a convenience... a default presence in your life simply because he happens to live under the same roof.

And that? That thought hurts in a way he never expected. It coils in his chest, sinking deep into the cracks of insecurities he thought he had long buried. 

Jungkook stands there, unmoving like a statue carved from the weight of his own thoughts as Jaehyun's words continue to ricochet inside his skull. Each syllable lands like a carefully aimed strike, while Jaehyun? 

Jaehyun just watches him with that same smug, self-satisfied smirk, like he's basking in the sight of Jungkook's silence. Like he's thriving off the lack of a response, off the way Jungkook has been rendered utterly speechless.

The sound of your door unlocking shatters the silence.

Jungkook flinches, snapping back to reality just in time to see you step out, your hair now dry, your bag slung effortlessly over your shoulder. You're wearing a fitted top and a denim skirt that ends just at the middle of your thighs—casual, effortless, and yet, somehow, still unfairly perfect.

Your eyes immediately land on Jaehyun as you stride towards the couch, completely oblivious to the wreckage he's left in Jungkook's wake. "Let's head out?" Jaehyun asks, standing up from the couch with an easy smile and you nod before turning towards the door.

"Bye, Kook." you say, your voice soft as you smile sweetly at him. "Have a good day. I'll see you later." 

You walk past him without a second thought, slipping into your shoes as Jaehyun follows behind you.

Jungkook turns to see you both at the door way and hears you both murmuring, something quiet, something casual, but it barely registers because he's still drowning. Still trapped beneath the weight of words that shouldn't have mattered but somehow do.

Jaehyun lets out an airy chuckle, throwing Jungkook one last look, before stepping outside with you. 

And just like that, the door clicks shut, leaving Jungkook standing there, adrift in the silence, drowning in thoughts he never wanted to have, thoughts that now refuse to leave.

Because no matter how much he wants to shake them off, the seed has already been planted. And the worst part?

He's afraid it might have been growing there all along.

"I can't believe that stupid assignment is finally fucking over." Jimin exhales, shaking his head as he leads the way out of the teacher's lounge with you, Jaehyun and Namjoon following closely behind after just turning the assignment in.

"But seriously, it's insane how this semester is already wrapping up. Like, what do you mean we have finals in two weeks?" He groans, running a hand through his hair as you all make your way down the hallway.

"On the bright side, we've got our break coming up." Jaehyun chimes in, his hands tucked lazily into his pockets and Namjoon nods at that. "Yeah, and even though it's just a month, it's definitely needed." He sighs, cracking his neck, already feeling the exhaustion creeping in.

"Why don't we all grab something to eat together? It's Friday, and I think we deserve to blow off some steam after that absolute nightmare of an assignment. Plus... I'm starving." Jimin suddenly suggests, flashing a sheepish smile as he falls into step beside you.

"Honestly? Same." you nod, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach before glancing over at Jaehyun and Namjoon. "You guys in?"

"Yeah, I don't mind." Namjoon shrugs, stretching his arms behind his head. Jaehyun tilts his head slightly, as if contemplating, before nodding. "Yeah, sure. But real question—what are we eating?"

Jimin hums, tapping his chin in thought before his eyes light up. "I know this hotpot place downtown. Why don't we go there?" he suggests, glancing at the three of you who instantly give him approving nods. 

Soon enough, the evening slips by as the four of you spend time together in the cozy hotpot restaurant, savoring both the food and the easy conversation. But eventually, with plates emptied and bellies full, it's time to part ways.

Namjoon is the first to leave, heading straight for the subway station with a casual wave. Jimin, meanwhile, slides into the backseat of his cab, rolling down the window to glance at you. "You sure you don't wanna come with?" he asks, brows raised.

You shake your head with a small smile. "It's alright, Chim. I'll walk."

Jaehyun, who was just in the middle of booking his own cab, quickly shoves his phone back into his pocket. "Then I'll walk with you." he offers. "Oh, you really don't have to." you say quickly, but he just shrugs, with a grin.

"Well, okay then, you guys figure it out. I'm heading out." Jimin leans back into his seat, already getting comfortable. "Y/n text me when you get home!" he calls out just before the car pulls away, leaving you alone with Jaehyun on the dimly lit sidewalk.

You turn to him with a pointed look and swat his arm. "Hey, you should've just booked your cab."

Jaehyun barely flinches, his expression entirely unbothered. "And let you walk home alone? Yeah, no thanks," he says easily, already taking a few steps forward.

You roll your eyes but fall into step beside him, the two of you blending into the steady flow of people weaving through the bustling streets—couples ducking into cafés, groups of friends spilling out of restaurants, neon lights flickering against the pavement.

Jaehyun suddenly smirks. "I gotta admit, I didn't expect working with you to be such a breeze."

You narrow your eyes at him, mirroring his grin. "What's that supposed to mean?" you challenge. "You thought I'd be a bad assignment partner?"

He shrugs, far too relaxed. "Sort of."

Your mouth falls open in mock offense before you swat his arm again. "That's so mean." You laugh, shaking your head, and just then, your eyes suddenly catch on a store display on the other side of the street that makes your heart skip a beat. 

It's a toy store, the shelves stacked with colorful puzzles and games, but what truly grabs your attention is the bold sign right outside the entrance—Limited Edition 21x21 Rubik's Cube Available. On Sale Now!

"Oh my god..." you gasp, already changing direction without a second thought while Jaehyun blinks, watching in bewilderment as you suddenly make a beeline for the store. "Hey, uh... Where—"

"Can we make a stop there, please?" You interject, turning to him with an excited smile, practically bouncing on your feet as you point towards the toy store. 

"The toy store?" Jaehyun asks, confused. "Yeah! They apparently have the 21x21 rubik's cube in stock—and it's on sale." You turn back towards the store, eyes practically shining. "I have to get it for Kook."

Jaehyun watches you, exasperated, but you don't notice. 

Your mind is already elsewhere, thinking about Jungkook and his oddly specific hobby of collecting all kinds of rubik's cubes. You know how badly he's wanted the 21x21 variation—he's grumbled about it enough times, always complaining about how it's out of stock everywhere.

And now that you have a chance to get it for him, there's no way you're passing it up.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, has to fight the urge to groan out loud because are you seriously about to waste time in some toy store just so you can buy a damn rubik's cube for that nerd of a roommate? 

This was so not how he had envisioned this walk going. 

But before he gets the chance to question you again, he lets the thought go and sighs before  lazily following you into the toy store and watching you get all giddy over a stupid rubik's cube. 

All for that nerd Jungkook.

The moment you step into the store, your eyes instantly land on exactly what you were looking for. "Oh my god, he's going to love this." you murmur, already picturing Jungkook's reaction.

Jaehyun, however, instantly notices the price of the cube and his eyes widen in disbelief. "You're seriously spending that much... for your roommate?" His tone is incredulous, as if he can't fathom why anyone would go to such lengths.

"Um, yeah." you say nonchalantly, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing in the world. You glance at the price, completely unfazed because you already had a rough idea of how much it would cost.

Jaehyun scoffs, eyebrows raising as he struggles to mask his irritation. "Why, though?" he presses, trying to keep his voice casual. "Just because." you shrug with a smile, picking up a fresh box from the shelf before making your way to the counter without a second thought.

Once you step out of the store, Jaehyun falls back into step beside you, his irritation tucked neatly behind a mask of nonchalance. He decides to keep his focus on you instead, letting you ramble about some ridiculous high school memory. 

It makes the walk easier, makes the time pass faster until, before either of you realize it, the familiar sight of your apartment building comes into view.

"Thanks for walking me home, though I hope you know it was completely unnecessary." You turn to Jaehyun with a small smile. He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You really need to stop acting like you're inconveniencing me. It's the least I can do for a friend."

You smile at that, but he's already speaking again. "We are friends, right? I'd hate to think I was just a temporary assignment partner to you." His playful pout makes you laugh. "Of course, we're friends." you assure him, tilting your head.

"Glad to hear it. So don't go pretending like you don't know me the next time we cross paths on campus." he teases. "Wouldn't dream of it." you reply with a giggle. He grins before glancing up at the darkening sky. "Anyway, it's getting late. You should head inside."

"And you should go home." you quip, nudging your chin toward him. Jaehyun exhales, rocking back on his heels. "Yeah, yeah. Well then, I'll see you around."

There's a brief pause before he subtly opens his arms, and you immediately recognize the gesture. Without much thought, you step forward, wrapping your arms around to hug him. 

Just a simple parting hug. No big deal.

Jungkook had returned from class nearly three hours ago to an empty apartment. He figured you were still busy with work, but somehow, being alone had only made it worse. His mind kept circling back to that conversation with Jaehyun.

In fact, it never left him. It had followed him all throughout his lecture, clung to the edges of his thoughts like a stubborn stain, looping over and over in the cruelest of ways.

And now, sitting out on the balcony of your shared apartment with a half-empty beer can dangling from his fingers after downing who knows how many before it, the conversation still refuses to let him go. 

Jungkook glances down at the empty cans resting on the floor beside his chair and tips his head back with a sigh, staring blankly at the expanse of the night sky, hoping—praying—that maybe if he sits here long enough, the weight in his chest will lift.

But it doesn't.

Because no matter how much he wants to brush it off, Jaehyun's words had cracked something open inside him. Had made him look at something he had never even considered before. Had forced him to question things he had never thought to doubt.

That maybe, to you, he was just an obligation. A convenience. A pet nerd.

He exhales sharply, taking another swig of his beer, but it tastes awful tonight... too bitter, too sharp against his tongue. He scowls at the sensation, shifting in his seat as if the discomfort is something he can physically shake off.

And then suddenly, a faint murmur rises from the street below, breaking through the restless hum in his mind and his gaze flickers downward as he peaks over the railing. 

And there you are, walking side by side with Jaehyun down the street and Jungkook instantly freezes.

You're holding onto a large paper bag, but he barely registers it, because all he can focus on is the easy, natural way you move together, the way your head tilts towards Jaehyun as you speak, the way you seem so comfortable with him by your side. 

You were with him this whole time?

His grip tightens around the beer can, metal bending slightly under the force.

You submitted the assignment today. The whole reason you were spending time with Jaehyun in the first place, is over. So why are you still hanging out with him? Why are you laughing like that? Why is he walking you home at this hour?

His eyes flicker back to the bag in your hands.

Did you go shopping with him? Is he your shopping partner now? Did you drag him into different stores, let him see the indecisive way you hover over products, let him tease you over your choices? Did he help you pick things out, offer opinions that Jungkook thought were his to give?

It's stupid. So, so stupid. Jungkook knows he's being irrational, knows how miserably unreasonable it is to let something this trivial get under his skin, but god, he just can't help it.

The sick feeling in his stomach festers, spreading like an ache he can't shake off.

His eyes remain fixed on the scene below, watching as you and Jaehyun come to a slow stop in front of the entrance to your apartment building. He finds himself shifting forward, standing to get a better view, even though a part of him hates how this must look, how he must look, lurking on the balcony like some desperate voyeur.

But he just can't look away.

Not when he sees Jaehyun murmuring something to you, not when you giggle at whatever he's saying.  And then—

Then you move closer.

Your arms lift, wrapping around Jaehyun in an easy, familiar hug and suddenly, something inside Jungkook snaps.

A sharp, piercing ringing floods his ears, drowning out everything else. His vision blurs at the edges, his throat tightening with something he doesn't want to name. He exhales sharply, chest heaving with the weight of something too much, too sudden, too overwhelming.

And he can't—he can't do this. Can't just stand here and witness whatever's going on between you and Jaehyun.

So before he even fully realizes it, he's spinning on his heels, retreating back inside the apartment, yanking the balcony door shut behind him with a force that rattles the frame.

The glass quivers.

And so does he.

Once Jaehyun leaves, you make your way towards your flat, your fingers tightening around the paper bag as a small, giddy smile tugs at your lips.

Before unlocking the door, you glance down at the bag, already trying to imagine what Jungkook's reaction is going to be when he sees the ridiculously oversized rubik's cube you've bought for him.

You fish out your keys and unlock the door, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes—but the moment you do, something feels... off.

It's too quiet.

No sound from the TV. No faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Not even the rhythmic clicking of his keyboard that usually fills the apartment late into the night. You pause, tilting your head slightly. Is Jungkook already asleep? 

That's odd.

Stepping further in, your gaze drifts to the glass balcony door and that's when you spot the multiple beer cans scattered carelessly on the ground beside the familiar plastic chair and a frown tugs at your brows. 

Jungkook drinks, sure, but he's never been the one to sit alone and down cans by himself. He always prefers drinking when you're around, and even though his tolerance is high, something about this... him drinking alone, doesn't sit right with you.

You shake off the uneasy feeling and head to your room, placing the paper bag on your nightstand. Maybe tonight isn't the best time to surprise him. If he's drunk, it can wait till morning.

Still, the nagging concern in your chest refuses to settle so you pad across the wooden floor and stop outside his door, softly knocking. "Hey, Kook? Are you asleep?"

Silence.

On most nights, you'd take that as your cue to leave him be, assuming he's already knocked out. But tonight, you hesitate because something about this doesn't feel right. You wait a few moments, debating whether to push further, before slowly and hesitantly turning the doorknob.

"I'm coming in." you warn softly, pushing the door open and your eyes immediately find Jungkook, curled up under the covers, lying on his side with his back turned to you. His shoulders are tense, posture stiff like he's bracing for something.

"Kook?" you call out again gently, but the way he curls in tighter, pulling the blanket up higher over his frame, is enough to tell you he's not asleep. "Hey... what's wrong?" you ask, still lingering by the door, unsure if you should step in or step back. "I saw the beer cans..." you add, hoping it might coax him to talk. "You never drink alone. Did something happen today?"

Under the covers, Jungkook grits his teeth, jaw clenched so tight it aches. He doesn't want to hear your voice right now, not when every syllable feels like salt in a fresh wound. Not when his mind is still replaying the sight of you and Jaehyun. 

Not when the bitter taste of the beer still stubbornly sits on his tongue and not when Jaehyun's voice, his words, his taunts are all clawing their way back up to the surface, pressing against the inside of Jungkook's skull until he feels like he might combust.

He knows if he opens his mouth now, something ugly will spill out, something raw and twisted that he doesn't even fully understand himself.

But you're still there. Still standing at the threshold, your worry so palpable it practically seeps into the room. You take the smallest step forward. "Jungkook..." you try again. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is... I'm here."

Your voice is a comfort you don't even realize you've become... a warmth he never asked for but somehow clung to, thread by fragile thread, until it wrapped around him like a lifeline. 

And that's exactly the problem. 

Because comfort breeds hope, and hope is a dangerous thing for someone who's spent too long convincing himself he didn't deserve it in the first place.

Suddenly the sharp sound of his tongue clicking fills the silence, loud enough to make you flinch. "Can you just leave me alone?" he spits and you freeze for a brief moment at his tone. You've never heard Jungkook talk like that.

"I... what?" you ask, confusion laced into your tone. "I just wanted to check—"

"Why do you always act like you're entitled to walk into my room whenever you feel like it?" he snaps, voice raised just enough to sting as he sits up abruptly, sheets pooling at his waist, and when you get a look at his eyes, you're confused. There's something storming behind them... something troubled, something restless, something dangerously close to breaking apart.

"What— I'm— Kook, what... what's wrong?" you stammer, your voice small, fragile against the weight of his glare. He exhales sharply, like the air itself offends him, yanking the sheets off his body with a roughness that startles you as he stands to his feet. "Just get out." he mutters.

And something about the way he says it, the way he looks at you, rubs you the wrong way. You don't know if it's the alcohol talking or if it's pure, unfiltered anger, but if there's one thing you've never done, it's disrespected Jungkook. So why the hell should you stand here and let him tear into you like this, when you have no clue why you deserve this in the first place. 

"Excuse me?" Your arms fold across your chest, feet planted firmly into the ground. "What's with the attitude?"

"Attitude?" He lets out a hollow laugh, the kind that doesn't belong to the Jungkook you know. The sound of it makes your stomach turn. His gaze locks onto you, and that's when you see how his eyes glisten but there's no time to process that because he's already speaking again.

"I'm sick of you."

Three words. Brutal and merciless. They hit you like a slap you never saw coming.

"I'm sick of you walking into my room like you own it. I'm sick of being your personal mannequin every time you can't pick a fucking outfit or decide between two pairs of earrings. Sick of you asking for my opinion like my words mean something — like I mean something, when we both know the second you get what you want, I'm invisible again."

Your heart stutters in disbelief, chest tightening with each accusation hurled your way. But Jungkook's just getting started, words spilling faster now, sharper with every breath.

"I'm sick of being your backup plan — the human crutch you lean on whenever it suits you. You only come to me when you need something. Someone to just go along with everything you say. Someone to play your little sidekick in this perfect world of yours." His voice cracks, but he powers through it, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitch.

"I'm done being your fucking plaything, Y/n."

The air between you turns suffocating, his bitterness clashing against your confusion like a storm building with no place to go.

"Jungkook??" you start, but your voice falters halfway, cracking under the weight of confusion clawing at your throat. "Where... where is this even coming from? Look... I think you're really drunk right now and—"

"Can you just leave?" he interjects with a scoff, running a hand through his already-messy hair before turning his back on you, like the mere act of looking at you is too much to bear. "Go back to Jaehyun." he mutters. 

"Maybe he'll help you pick out a new set of nails. Or film a tiktok. Or whatever it is you need to feel relevant today." The jab is low, muttered under his breath, but sharp enough to slice through your already fragile composure.

"What does Jaehyun have to do with any of this?" you demand, voice rising just slightly, the confusion twisting into something bordering on anger. Because none of this makes sense... not the venom in his voice, not the sudden shift in his attitude, and definitely not the way he's acting like you're the villain in some story you didn't even know you were a part of.

"CAN YOU PLEASE JUST LEAVE ??" This time, he practically yells, voice cracking under the weight of his frustration. There's something almost desperate in the way he says it, like he's begging you to go before he loses the last shred of control he has left. Like he knows the alcohol is working overtime, dragging out words he doesn't mean, words he won't be able to take back once they're out in the open.

"No." Your voice is steady, even as your heart pounds in your ears. You step forward, planting yourself firmly in front of him. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck this is all about. Because right now, you sound completely ridiculous." Your hands fly up as you speak, your frustration boiling over.

"Oh, I'm ridiculous?" He lets out a hollow chuckle, one that makes your stomach knot as he turns to face you. "Right. I'm the fucking clown here for actually caring about you, when it's so painfully obvious that the only reason Jaehyun's even nice to you is because he wants to fuck you."

The words hit like a slap, and even Jungkook looks momentarily stunned by how harsh he sounds. But he doesn't take it back. He doesn't soften. Instead, he holds your gaze, daring you to react.

Your lips part, but no words come out at first. There's only that awful, twisting ache in your chest, followed by a low, trembling whisper. "What the hell did you just say?"

"Oh, come on, Y/n." he snaps, throwing his head back, hands planted firmly on his hips like he's trying to hold himself together. "Are you seriously that naive? You actually believe a guy like Jaehyun is just being friendly? You seriously trust him?" The laugh that follows is humorless, dripping with disbelief.

"What is your problem with Jaehyun?" you ask, voice sharper now, anger slowly overtaking the confusion. "I know him better than you, Jungkook. And honestly? It just looks like you have no idea what you're talking about and I'm so tired of you always twisting him into something he's not. It's exhausting."

"Right. Of course." Jungkook's laugh is sharp enough to slice through a bone, and it makes your blood boil. "Of course, you'd say that because I'm the crazy nerd who has no idea what he's talking about while he's your precious friend. So excuse me for actually giving a shit and trying to fucking warn you because god forbid someone who cares about you tries to protect you." 

You scoff, disbelief flooding every inch of you. "Do you even realize how insane you sound right now???"

"Right, so now, I'm insane." he laughs again, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you? I'm only reliable to you when you want to film some trend for your tiktok page or you need someone to hold the camera for your pictures or... or give you an opinion on your outfit, or help you test out your makeup. That's all I am to you, isn't it? Some idiot you can pull into whatever you want because I'm convenient. Because I'm easy."

The accusation knocks the air clean out of your lungs. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint ringing in your ears... the kind that comes when a blow lands too hard, too fast, leaving no time to brace for impact. You don't know if it's the alcohol swimming in his veins or if there's something deeper unraveling inside him, something that's been building for longer than you realized. 

But either way, your mind spins, your eyes sting, your heart stumbles over itself, and all you can do is stare at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "You really think... I'm that shallow?" You whisper, feeling your whole body tremble. "You really believe... that's all you are to me?"

"I don't think, Y/n. I know." The certainty in his voice makes your heart break. "Because let's be honest, Y/n... you're so fucking oblivious. So blind to anything that doesn't fit neatly into your perfect little world. All you see is you...  your life, your influencer crap, your curated existence where every outfit, every angle, every caption matters more than the people standing right beside you."

He exhales harshly, running a hand through his hair, frustration dripping from every word. "You never bother to look past what's directly in front of you. If something isn't wrapped up and handed to you in plain sight, it doesn't fucking exist to you. And if anyone tries to warn you or tell you something you don't want to hear, you'll just brush it off like it's noise because you always know best."

He pauses, closing his eyes as his tongue pokes his inner cheek. "So tell me, Y/n. Why the hell am I even standing here, wasting my time, wasting my breath, when I already know exactly how this ends?"

There's a pause... a silence so deafening it drowns out every other sound, leaving nothing but the roar of your own pulse thundering in your ears. Your entire body feels like it's on fire, skin prickling, blood boiling beneath the surface. Your legs threaten to give out, and your chest aches like your heart might splinter apart right there in his room.

Because the sight before you feels like something out of a nightmare — a version of Jungkook you've never seen before. So cruel. So angry. So intent on wounding you in ways you never thought he could.

And knowing this is how he sees you... this twisted version of you he's built inside his head, it makes you sick to your stomach. You can't even recognize yourself in the reflection of his words. You can't recognize him either because in his eyes, you're nothing more than a girl who uses him, a girl who takes and takes and never sees the damage left behind.

You can't even stand to look at him right now.

"Fuck you." your hoarse voice cuts through the air, sharp and trembling all at once, and for the first time all night, they seem to actually land. It's like the phrase itself snaps Jungkook out of the angry haze he's been spiraling in, dragging him harshly back into reality. 

And suddenly, the weight of everything he just spewed... every cruel word, every accusation dripping in bitterness, crashes down on him all at once.

His mind was already a mess, thoughts piling up and collapsing under their own weight, and god knows how many cans of beer only poured gasoline over the fire. But now, standing here, watching the way your eyes glisten with heavy tears you're clearly fighting not to let fall — he knows.

He's gone too far.

But it doesn't matter, because you've already turned on your heel, walking out of his room as the door slams so hard behind you that it rattles the frame and Jungkook just stands there... frozen, knowing damn well there's no point in running after you now because the damage is already done.

And maybe, there's no coming back from it.

The minute Jungkook's eyes flutter open, a sharp, splitting pain shoots through his skull, forcing a low groan from his throat. His head throbs in time with his heartbeat, and for a moment, the only thing he can focus on is the sheer discomfort pulsing behind his eyes. 

He doesn't even remember when sleep managed to claim him — doesn't know if it even could be called sleep at this point. It felt more like passing out, drowning under the weight of alcohol and exhaustion, until everything just shut down.

Maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the emotional storm he set loose in his own damn room.

Unlike you, no amount of alcohol could ever grant Jungkook the mercy of forgetting. Every word he spat out, every venom-laced accusation, every careless action from last night still clings to him like smoke in his lungs... impossible to breathe past, impossible to forget. 

Sobriety doesn't cleanse him, it only sharpens the edges of his guilt, replaying the night in vivid clarity until it's all he can see.

He exhales shakily, running a hand down his face as he sits up. His body feels heavy, like guilt itself has settled into his bones. 

Luckily, it's the weekend so he has no classes to attend, but university is the least of his concerns right now. Because beyond this door, past the thin walls of his room, is you. And the thought of facing you feels like stepping onto a battlefield he already lost.

God, why did he go so far last night? Why did he let everything boil over like that? He desperately wishes that he could justify it somehow, but there's no excuse good enough to make sense of the way he tore into you. 

The combination of alcohol, unchecked insecurities, and the festering jealousy he had been trying to swallow down for weeks turned him into someone cruel.

And the worst part is, he knows exactly where it all came from. Knows that half the venom he spat at you wasn't even his own voice, but a twisted echo of all the insecurities Jaehyun had planted in his mind. All the doubts he thought he buried. All the fears he thought were beneath him. 

And yet, he let them sink in. Let them wrap around his throat until they came spilling out in words he can never take back.

He hates it. Hates himself for giving them power. Hates that he let jealousy and insecurity turn him into someone you probably don't even recognize. Someone he doesn't recognize either.

He can't believe it, can't wrap his head around the fact that he hurt you, of all people. The one person who's always been there, always understood him in ways no one else ever could. The one person he's loved... quietly, desperately, for longer than he's even willing to admit to himself.

With a heavy sigh, he steps out of his room and drags himself to the bathroom. Cold water might not fix much, but maybe it'll wash off the grogginess, the self-loathing, the stale bitterness clinging to his skin. 

Because no matter how much he wants to hide out in his room forever, he knows he can't avoid you. Not when you live under the same roof. And when the time comes to face you, he knows... the look in your eyes will hurt more than any hangover ever could.

Once he's done freshening up, Jungkook steps into the living room, his gaze immediately drifting towards your closed bedroom door at the far end. He wonders if you're still asleep — or worse, if you've decided to barricade yourself inside for the entire weekend just to avoid him.

The thought alone sends a fresh pulse of pain shooting through his already throbbing head.

Maybe he should go for a walk. Clear his mind. Let the cool morning air numb the edges of his spiraling thoughts. Maybe if he can think straight, he can find the right words for an apology that doesn't sound pathetic and a way to piece together the wreckage he caused. 

It's laughable, really. 

An apology couldn't possibly erase the things he said. But still, it's the bare minimum and it's all he has right now.

Dragging himself towards the doorway, he opens the shoe cabinet to grab his sneakers, but his hand freezes mid-air. Three shelves — the ones you always claimed for yourself, filled with your endless collection of shoes — are almost entirely empty.

The heels you complained about but wore religiously. The sandals you slipped into on lazy mornings. The sneakers you wore everyday to university. They're gone. 

Not rearranged, not tidied up — just gone.

His brows knit together in confusion. He blinks once, twice, willing the image in front of him to change. Maybe he's imagining it. Maybe his mind, already clouded with regret, is playing cruel tricks. But the shelves remain just as bare, the emptiness staring back at him like a gaping wound. And that's when the cold fear starts to settle in, slithering into his veins like ice water.

Without wasting another second, he turns on his heel and practically bolts to your bedroom. There's no hesitation when he pushes the door open, no knocking — because suddenly, his fear outweighs every sense of decorum.

And when he steps inside, the fear that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind solidifies into something much heavier. Because right there, in plain sight, is your half-empty wardrobe with the hangers swinging slightly out of place and the remaining clothes pushed messily to one side.

He steps further in, eyes flickering to the bed where the sheets lay crumpled and tangled and then, almost instinctively, his gaze shifts to the nightstand, landing on the paper bag. The same one you'd been clutching in your hand last night when he spotted you with Jaehyun from the balcony. 

It shouldn't matter. Not right now. Not when there are far more pressing things to worry about — like the fact that half your belongings are missing and your presence is nowhere to be found. But despite the rational voice in his head, his body moves on its own as he steps closer and his fingers ghost over the edge of the bag, just enough to peer inside.

His eyes widen the instant they land on the box inside, the bold, unmistakable letters printed across the top feel like a punch straight to his gut — sharp, unforgiving, and entirely deserved. His stomach churns violently, and there's a hollow ache expanding in his throat, the kind that comes when guilt is so heavy, it feels physical. 

Jungkook feels like the biggest piece of shit to ever walk this earth — no, worse than that. Like the human embodiment of every bad decision, every reckless impulse, every thoughtless word that ever left his mouth.

He stands frozen, rooted to the spot, staring down at the 21x21 rubik's cube box — the same one he had spent months obsessing over, scouring every website, visiting every store, only to come up empty-handed every single time because it wasn't available anywhere. 

And now here it is, sitting quietly in a bag you brought home, a silent reminder of how deeply you knew him, how much you cared, even when he was too blind to see it.

How you always seemed to hold on to the most trivial things he said, like the things he barely even remembered saying himself. Like the other day when Jimin had mentioned the ruckus you had caused at the grocery store, just to hunt down a snack that Jungkook loved so much. 

Or the way you never — not even once — made him feel embarrassed about the things that made him who he was. Like those nights you curled up beside him, watching anime even though he could tell it wasn't really your thing. 

Or the times you clumsily grabbed a controller, trying to navigate a game even after admitting that video games made your brain feel like it was overheating. 

And that one time, when he was knee-deep into coding some app, you sat beside him for hours, asking the silliest questions. Like if 'public static void' was some secret spell, or if the code could understand sarcasm, or if bugs were actual tiny creatures living in his laptop.

But he didn't mind. Not even a little. Because you were there, genuinely interested, even if you didn't fully understand. 

In a world full of people like Jaehyun, people who sneered at his interests, mocked his passions, rolled their eyes at the things that lit him up inside, he had you. You, who never dismissed his hyperfixations as childish or weird, who never made him feel like his interests, his passions were boring or not worth the while. 

Because you cared, even when you didn't have to. Even when it would've been easier to just ignore him and dismiss the things he likes, you stayed, trying to understand his world just because it was his.

How, all throughout high school, he was just there. 

Not the life of the party, never the one anyone texted first — or at all, if he's being honest. Never the one anyone saved a seat for at the lunch table or dragged along for spontaneous midnight runs to the arcade. 

Too quiet. Too awkward. Too easy to overlook. 

He was the background noise in everyone else's coming-of-age story, a shadow against the walls of every hallway, a name barely anyone remembered until the attendance was called by the teacher. 

Just there — existing, breathing, occupying space, but never truly seen.

People passed him by like scenery, glanced through him like glass, mostly acknowledged his presence only when it was impossible to ignore like a bump in the hallway, an accidental brush of shoulders, a group project where they needed just one more person. 

To them, he was a placeholder. A footnote in stories far more interesting than his own. And he thought he'd made peace with that... with being invisible. 

Until he came to university — and met you.

Until he was searching for a roommate — and somehow, it was you.

You, who pulled him out of his shell and into the light with nothing but gentleness. 

You, who welcomed him into your world, made space for him in something you were passionate about, something that mattered to you so deeply... something he turned around and tore apart with careless words and cruel jabs last night.

The very thing that brought you both closer, the thing you once shared with him like a piece of your heart, folding him into your world of silly videos and spontaneous laughter, making him the unexpected star in a spotlight that had always belonged to you, became the very thing he ridiculed.

And that truth is a punch to the gut, because if anyone else had disrespected your passions like that, he would've fought them on the spot. But it wasn't anyone else — it was him.

And suddenly, it's as clear as day that none of this is the beer's fault, none of this is Jaehyun's fault. Every cruel word, every misplaced accusation, every ugly insecurity that spilled out of him last night — all of it, every ounce of damage, was his own. His own mistake. His own idiocy. His own inability to believe he could be worthy of someone like you.

He ruined the one thing that truly meant the world to him... the one thing that gave him the chance to connect with you, to laugh with you, to simply exist beside you and said things he didn't mean, lashed out in ways he never intended, all because he was too caught up with the noise inside his own head.

He swallows hard, still staring blankly at the box, almost like if he blinks, it might vanish... like if he stares at it long enough, he can somehow rewrite the truth of what it really is. 

He can't believe how effortlessly his mind turned against you, how easily he assumed the worst — how quickly something so pure became something ugly in his head. 

That it could've been an outfit, an accessory, something trivial that Jaehyun had helped you pick out. That you had replaced Jungkook, your little shopping partner, your unqualified but always eager style consultant, with a person like Jaehyun.

The very thought now feels ridiculous, almost laughable, if it didn't make him sick to his stomach.

He jumped into conclusions without a second thought, all because he saw you with another guy. As if you owed him an explanation. As if he had some unspoken right to be angry, to feel betrayed — when the brutal truth was, even when he learned the whole truth about Jaehyun and tried to warn you, he never once gave you the honesty you deserved.

Never told you the real reason behind his distrust, never admitted what he had heard from Taehyung, because he was more worried of overstepping, more afraid of looking like the villain in your eyes, more scared of you finding out about his feelings.

"Jaehyun has a reputation." he could've said. "Taehyung's heard the way he talks in the locker room — the way he talks about girls. So you should be careful around him."

It was that simple. That's all he had to do... say those words, or at least something close to them. Just a moment of honesty, instead of hiding behind vague warnings and random questions like "Do you trust Jaehyun?"

So how could his concern ever be justified when he never gave you the full story? When all he ever did was beat around the bush, hoping you'd read between the lines he was too paranoid to write?

He doesn't even realize when the first tear breaks free, sliding silently down his cheek but by the time the second one falls, it's almost impossible to ignore the pain in his chest.

You were planning to give him this. A gift that showed, in the simplest yet loudest way, just how much you saw him, how much you remembered even the tiniest parts of him... the parts no one else ever cared to notice.

And in return, what did he give you?

Cruel words sharpened to cut, accusations flung carelessly into the air, every insecurity he had rotting into poison and spilling out of his mouth all because some random person triggered him. He gave you doubt, and hurt, and every ugly, jagged piece of himself he never meant for you to see.

And now, you're gone.

<-part 1 // part 3 -> (coming soon)

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you please do a part two of the Sebastian fluff where he lets his thoughts get the best of him and gets anxious that reader now sees him as a monster because of what they read on his document so he prepares extra good items and plans to give them heavy discounts and even some free but reader barges in like

"MANTIS SHRIMP??? PUNCH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW"

And after a bit of reassuring(possibly some punching too bc reader is too starry-eyed for him to say no to em) Seb realizes he trully never had anything to worry about and just, generally grows fonder of reader?

Ps. Adore your writing, keep up the awesome work!!

"God, why did I let them take it? Stupid, stupid, stupid.."

Sebastian couldn't stop beating himself up, even though he knew he shouldn't care about the opinion of any human sent by Urbanshade--especially one of the "expendable" class.

Yet because it was you, specifically--who was currently in possession of his document--he began to wonder what you'd think of him once you found out the truth:

That he was nothing but a horrible monster. Plain and simple.

If not the knowledge that he was a hideous chimera of several sea creatures' DNA...then surely the revelation that he caused the lockdown of the Blacksite would ultimately make you resent him.

He released all those creatures, who stopped at nothing to prevent you from reaching the crystal and had you running, fighting, or hiding for your life.

He was responsible for all the injuries you've sustained while crawling into his shop, desperately needing a medkit and a place to rest.

He would understand if you'd never want to visit him again after what they documented about him..but the image of your furious expression and overthinking the words you'd possibly say to him left him feeling incredibly anxious.

Suddenly, Sebastian found himself gathering more supplies. Medkits, code breakers, and every light source he had currently in the shop, trying to market down whatever he could. He was even willing to let you take batteries for free...which was something he'd never normally do.

Would it be enough to make up for everything horrific you discovered about him and the terrors he indirectly put you through? Absolutely not.

Was he willing to try it anyways just for the small chance that you'd keep visiting him? Maybe.

No other human has shown him a single ounce of kindness or gratitude for his services. Nobody except you, of course, and he refused to lose that.

-thump, thump-

"Shit.." He froze, hearing movement in the vent duct, hands trembling for his light to shine brighter. Part of him wishes he could stay in the dark, as he didn't wanna see your face and whatever hurt expression it could possibly hold.

But he knew it'd be rude if you actually needed to buy something, so he forced himself to look as your familiar figure crawled out of the small opening. You seemed out of breath, like you were just running from something, and stood up to dust the dirt off your pants.

"Sebastian..I need to know something, and you need to be 100% honest with me."

The moment you pulled out his document, the shopkeeper could feel his heart sink.

"Wh..What did you want to know?" He asked, already bracing himself for the worst.

You sounded dead serious, and he was convinced you were finally going to let him have it.

You were going to force him to explain himself and his actions, and tell him what a monster he truly was. Literally and metaphoric-

"Its it true that you have mantis shrimp DNA????"

Silence.

Of all the possible outbursts he expected from you, that certainly didn't cross his mind.

Sebastian just stared down at you, utterly dumbfounded. He blinked several times, unsure if he was truly seeing the wide smile and starry-eyed look on your face.

He had been waiting for a deep scowl, eyes full of anger and betrayal and sadness that he wasn't the "friend" he claimed himself to be when you first visited his shop.

Yet now? He saw nothing but pure delight in your expression.

"Um..yes. But of alllll the things you read about me, that shocked you the most?" He was still treading carefully.

"Well, it sucks that you were an innocent guy who got thrown into a shitty situation." You gestured to him, frowning a little. "And I'm sorry you never saw justice, but...it's just SO cool that you're part mantis shrimp!" A grin returned to your face. "They've fascinated me for years! I used to watch videos of them all the time. Did you know the velocity of just one of their punches is equal to a .22 caliber bullet-?"

"Stop." He put a hand up, huffing. "At least some part of you must resent me. I mean...helloooooo, did you skip over the bit where I'M the reason those monsters are after you?! There's no way you could've ignored that..unless your brain turned off the moment you read "mantis shrimp"."

"I read everything, Sebastian." You huffed back. "Look, if I ever had to go through what you did..I think I'd wanna rebel, too. And as much as those monsters scare me, they've probably endured the same experiments as you. They probably felt just as trapped and afraid. You must see at least a few of them as your friends, right?"

"Eyefestation and the PAInter are the only ones I consider "acquaintances"." He answered after a long pause, shoulders slumped. "The anglers are primitive, but they recognize me as the one who freed them, so they don't bother me or my shop. The only creature that tends to be an issue is-"

-thump-

-thump-

Tensing, you looked over your shoulder to see a Wall Dweller emerge from the vent behind you, its mouth split open and drooling with hunger, standing on two legs.

"-that." Sebastian glared at the creature; and before it could run away, he blocked the entrance with his tail fin. "Oh no you don't." He swooped over to grab ahold of its head with his third hand, causing it to shriek and kick its legs as he held it up high. "You seriously need to stop eating my customers when they're trying to BUY SOMETHING!!"

The Dweller just growled at him, to which he ignored it and glanced down at you. "What should I do with this thing?"

"Punch it!" You grinned, your fists balled up in front of you as you hopped up and down. "I wanna see how fast you could throw one!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Pleeeeaaase?"

"..ugh, if it gets that stupid puppy-eyed look off your face, fine." He looked back at the Dweller, grinning widely as he cracked his knuckles. "You wanna eat something so bad? Try this."

"....grahh-?"

In a blinding flash, his fist went through the creature's skull, effectively turning its head into dust. Then he dropped the whole body onto the ground with a grimance. "Eugh..never done that before.."

Then he looked down at you again, seeing your smile brighten. "Hope that made you happy."

"It did, that was amazing!" You laughed, kneeling down to rip off a chunk of the Dweller's flesh. He eyed you strangely, his expression changing to a look of horror as you shoved a piece in your mouth.

"What the f...why would you eat that?!"

"It's okay! I've had this stuff before." You swallowed, feeling rejuvenated already.

"B....Before?! What you're eating is clay and acid-"

"Actually, it's fresh meat. Reminds me of poultry, almost. I found a document somewhere saying that it has regenerative properties." You explained to Sebastian, whose eyes only widened the more you talked. "I didn't believe it at first until I saw the Angler kill one. I was hungry and...eating it healed my electrical burn somehow."

".......why was that not in its actual document?" He muttered.

You shrugged, ripping out another piece and offering it to him. "Care for a bite?"

"I'll..pass. But thanks." Lowering his body closer to you, he frowned. "Are you absolutely sure that-?"

"I'm sure."

"..you didn't even know what I was going to-"

"You were worried about my reaction to your file. I could tell from the discount signs and how you were scared to even look at me."

"............."

"But I promise it doesn't change anything, okay? We're still friends, Sebastian, and I'll still swing by to do business with you." You reassured him, smiling as you patted the back of his hand, before noticing the bandage on his third arm seemed bloody. "Um..when's the last time you changed that?"

"...oh this? Erm..it's fine." He attempted to hide it behind his back. "Nothing you should be concerned abou-"

"Too late. It's my concern now. Let me repay you for saving my tail."

He had no time to protest, as you were already on your feet and running for the medkit that was on the table. You weren't worried about getting to the next zone right now.

Not that Sebastian planned on kicking you out anytime soon.

No.

Now that he was able to confide in you, he was genuinely beginning to enjoy your company--especially as you asked him to rest his arm across your lap. From there, your gentle hands went to work changing the bandage out for a fresh one, using an alcohol spray to keep the wounds from getting infected.

He hissed and cursed a few times at the stinging pain, but not once did he try to get you to stop.

Suddenly, it all began to hit him in this exact moment.

You were willingly playing nurse to a giant sea monster that has killed a man and was responsible for the terrifying things you had to witness down here.

He couldn't understand..but at the same time he felt relieved that all along he had nothing to worry about.

"Th-That's fine..thank you.."

Hearing a sniffle, you glanced up as Sebastian hastily took his arm away, "standing" back up and turning away from you. You just smiled and patted his tail comfortingly, not saying a word as you waited for him to collect himself.

For once, that snarky and sarcastic fish you've come to know was gone, and he was letting his walls down, finally realizing he could trust you.

Eventually he fell silent, and you wondered what to do now. You bought everything you wanted to earlier, so you didn't wanna overstay your welcome-

"Do you mind staying for a little bit longer?"

The question surprised you, but you smiled and nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind, shrimpy."

There was a pause, and he slowly looked back at you, pouting. "Big talk coming from someone as tiny as you, friend." He playfully sneered.

You just laughed and shook your head, glad to see him in better spirits.

Thanks to that scrambler on his back, you didn't have to worry about HQ getting on your ass about continuing the mission or threatening detonation.

You could definitely stay awhile and ramble about more mantis shrimp facts to Sebastian...if he was willing to hear them, of course.

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[tbaluver]

S/O With ADHD- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested: by a couple anonnies ♥︎ a/n: hihi my lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i just want to mention a disclaimer about this. while i do have adhd, everybody experiences things differently so what might be common for me, can be completely different to another person! these symptoms presented here are only what i’ve experienced and what my friends have experienced and what people have requested! do not refer to this to diagnose yourself. if you suspect you might have adhd, please refer to a professional! there will be a part two to this because theres more to add but anyways enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He didn’t fully grasp the idea when you tried to explain your adhd to him, your thoughts would jump from one thing to another and he tried to keep up. He would do his own research to understand better what you were going through. He would notice the little things, the way you would say you 're going to do something but never actually start or how tasks seem to take you forever to finish.

No worries about being late or rushing to go on dates or hangouts with him, there’s no set start time. Often times the dates and hangouts are flexible. He’ll wait until you’re ready as long as he gets to spend time with you and eat yummy food together, he’s happy

Indulges and learns your hyper fixations and your current obsessions. He’ll learn more about them on his own time so he can talk more about them with you

If you’re okay with it, he’ll join you whenever you need to rest and watch your comfort shows whenever you’re feeling drained or overstimulated. He’ll make the atmosphere in the room feel more cozy either by giving you space, adjusting the lighting and closing the curtains, tucking you in your blankets, so you can recharge

Praises your smallest victories even if it was just cleaning your room or finishing a simple task in under an hour without thinking or worrying about it. He knows that even the simplest tasks can feel overwhelming so when you manage to do something without thinking or bed rotting before doing something, he’s genuinely proud of you.

Zayne:

He would truly listen when you go off on a tangent of your hyperfixations, letting you ramble about them without interrupting you. Even if you branch off too many topics that you swear relates to the main topic, eventually forgetting what the point was, he patiently brings you back to the main point.

“..wait what was I talking about?”

“you were talking about how ___ and __”

He’s very organized, constantly tidying and rearranging things for you without needing to be asked. He doesn’t mind it at all. He organizes in a way that he knows would help you but if you ever forget where something is, he’s quick to help you. lost your keys? by the dining room table. your jacket? in the laundry basket. your phone? you’re holding it

Tries to keep his explanations short and easier to understand. He’ll give you just enough without getting lost in any unnecessary details

When he’s not around, he helps you by texting you on specific times to check up on you or to help shift your focus

Separate calm activities alone but together with him. You could be doing your own thing while he reads his book(s) or finishes up any medical reports

Calculates how long it usually takes you to get ready, so he’ll plan dates with reservation an hour or two ahead of time, sometimes maybe even more depending on the date, just to avoid overwhelming you. He’s always patient and understanding, sometimes he’ll help you get ready to take the weight off your shoulders

Rafayel:

In the beginning, he’ll notice you can run late to things but once you explain that it’s because of your adhd, he’ll be more understanding. Still, he can’t help but tease you just a little but he means well. He’ll just plan more hangouts that don’t require any set start time, just as long as you two are together at the end

Yap sessions with him take up an ungodly amount of hours. You both branch off to different topics, each one you both swear is just as important as the last, so the conversation goes in different directions. It takes forever to circle back to the original point.

He loves hearing about your hyper fixations. You can tell him everything, every little fact and he’ll ask you a million questions, indulging in your passion for it as well.

Loves to spend time with you but he is mindful and lets you have the space to unwind whenever you might feel overstimulated or just need to recharge

Shows so much encouragement whenever you show your creative and passionate side. He’ll recognize and appreciate the things you’re good at, even if you’re not able to see it in yourself

It’s canon that he sends you separate messages instead of big blocks of texts but its not because that’s how he feels more comfortable texting but also because he knows that long paragraphs can feel overwhelming. He doesn’t want you to miss anything or feel pressured to read through a lot at once

Sylus:

Lets you hold his hand whenever you want, no need to ask. He knows how much you fidget and he loves how you rub circles on the back of his hand, melting under your touch. If it helps you feel better, then go ahead. He’d even buy you rings to fidget with, ones that maybe match and also just so you can have something to twist and twirl when he’s not around

He adores listening to your obsessions and your hyper fixations, letting you ramble your latest interests or the new trinkets you’ve added to your collection. He’ll even surprise you with little trinkets he remembers from past conversations, knowing they would make you smile

Enjoys spending time with you even if you were focused on your own thing, whether it was hobby related or just unwinding in your own way while he’s also doing his own thing.

When you need help focusing and he’s not around, he’ll reach out at a certain time to check in and help refocus your attention

Doesn’t really send you paragraph lengths of text messages but sends you shorter messages so it doesn’t feel as overwhelming. He’ll mostly send voice messages that are short and the right length so it doesn’t let your mind drift away

Online shopping with him can help so you can control yourself from impulse buying so many things. He doesn’t mind you buying the entire world with his card but sometimes he has to stop you from buying things you absolutely don’t need

Caleb:

It’s easy for tasks to slip through or become overwhelming. You might start one thing but your mind jumps to something else and it takes a while before you can get back to what you were originally doing. Caleb would help by breaking down your chores one at a time or with more manageable steps or most of the time he’ll step in and take care of things for you so you don’t feel burdened.

If anything important was coming up the day after, he’ll leave little sticky notes for you all over the house, each one with a tiny apple doodles. They’ll be on your mirror, bedroom door, anywhere else he knows you’ll see them

Ever since you were a kid, he’ll still help you go over any of your works or anything you were unsure about when you feel like you missed any details. He’ll make sure you don’t miss anything

Never judgemental at all if you cut him off mid-sentence. He understands that you need to get your thoughts out quickly before they slip away so he lets you speak freely without worry

Sometimes you might forget to reply to a message or forget to come back to the conversation, so he’ll send a follow up message like, “whaddya think pipsqueak? :o” or he’ll send you a post to bring you back to the convo

If you’re struggling to focus on something, instead of pushing you to keep going, he’ll encourage you to take a break. He’ll help you ease back into it whether it’s breaking things down further or offering some encouragement

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE NERDY VALENTINE

A/N: one day late, but here's a bit of valentine's day cuteness with fratry bc i've been thinking a lot about him lately

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: Harry wants to celebrate Valentine's Day, but you're not a fan of his plans of going out and you have your reasons for that, but talking about them is not easy, so it causes some frustration.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?” 

Harry is lying on your bed with a textbook lying open over his chest, but he hasn’t read a single word of it in the last hour, he’s been too busy playing on his phone while you were sitting at your desk, working on a paper that’s due next week. He came over to study, but you both knew you’d be doing all the studying, you actually have no idea how Harry has good grades. 

“Friday? What’s on Friday?” you hum, still typing away on your computer, pretending to be oblivious.

“You know…” He draws out the words, sitting up so his back is against the wall. He puts the textbook aside, closing it, done pretending he is actually reading any of it. 

“Hm?” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel Harry’s burning eyes on your back. 

“Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he chuckles, giving up the game. “We are having a Cupid’s Party at the frat house, but if you want to go out, maybe have dinner or something I’m down.”

“Uh, I don’t know…” 

“Or we can go to the movies, I’m willing to watch that new romcom with you, if you want.”

“Harry…” Sighing you give up and finally turn with your chair to look at him, but you wish you didn’t because he is giving you those puppy eyes he knows you can’t resist and he is hugging your pink fluffy pillow like a little kid. 

“Y/N?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out.”

You catch the tiny wince that twitches his lips, but he recovers quickly. You were really hoping you could avoid this conversation today, though part of you knew it would come up, since it’s Wednesday, only 2 days until Valentine’s Day. 

His eyes jump down at the pillow as he starts fumbling with it, like a hurt kid who just got told no. 

“Harry…”

“Are we ever gonna leave this room and act like a real couple?” 

“Don’t start this again, please…”

“I just understand, Y/N,” he groans as he looks up at you again. “We’ve been together for over two months and I haven’t even held your hand in public.”

“That’s not true, you held my hand when–”

“When we were hiking in the middle of the woods so no one could see us. Yeah, you’re right,” he scoffs. 

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, looking down at your lap as the guilt bubbles in your gut. 

“Actually, we haven’t. You just keep telling me you need more time, but never really explain why or what bothers you. I’m trying to be patient, but I really want to take our relationship out of this tiny dorm room.” He gestures around your room where you spend the majority of your time together with him. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you just keep picking on your chipped nail polish, not looking at him, but then he climbs to the edge of the bed so he is sitting right in front of you. He lifts your chin gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m more than happy to wait for you, but I need to know a bit more.” He places a hand to your thigh, reassuringly rubbing it as he waits for you to say something. 

“I’m just… I don’t know, I like that it’s just the two of us.”

“Bullshit. It would still be just us.”

Ugh, you hate how well he knows you, you can’t lie to him, but you’re not willing to tell him the truth either. 

“Can we just not talk about this right now? I really need to finish this pa–”

“Y/N, stop avoiding this, please. You know you can tell me anything.”

He is looking at you, waiting and expecting, but you just can’t give him what he wants. His gaze keeps flickering between your eyes, hoping you’d finally open up, but you keep your mouth shut. And then he loses his patience.

“Alright then,” he whispers, jumping up to gather his things, showing everything into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him tug the zipper angrily before swinging the bag over one shoulder. 

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I don’t want to hide and not even know why. You wouldn’t tell me what bothers you, so I have to draw my own conclusions and want to know what all of this seems like to me? Like you don’t want to be seen with me, like you’re ashamed of being with me.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” you protest, standing from your chair. 

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but your voice dies in your throat. Unfortunately, Harry takes that as your answer. 

“Okay. Call me when you’re willing to talk.”

And with that, he is out of the room. 

A couples’ party might not have been the best place to be today for Harry, but the thought of easing his mind with a few rounds of beerpong was good enough to make him leave his room and join the party. 

Cupid’s Party usually has two groups of people: the happy couples, attached by the hip, eating each other’s face off and the single people getting wasted, hoping to at least hook up with someone. Currently Harry doesn’t feel like he belongs to any of these groups.

He assesses the living room over the rim of his red solo cup and tries his best to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of all the happy couples in matching outfits, celebrating their love. In the beginning of the week he was still hoping he and you might be one of them, but things didn’t turn out to be the way he planned. 

After the fight in your room you texted him, asking him to come back, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be doing that unless you’re willing to talk.

Which you werent, so it’s been radio silence since then. 

He had to stop himself from texting or calling you like a million times, it’s been quite the fight since Wednesday, he’s been missing you like crazy, but he is also determined to finally move forward. 

“You alright man?” Niall pats him on the back with a cup in his own hand that smells so much of alcohol that Harry can’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. While he likes to have drinks, he is often surprised how some of his friends in the house haven’t died of alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods with a sigh. 

“Uhuh, that’s why you’ve been moping around for days, right?” Niall laughs.

“I have not–”

“I have not been moping, you arse!” Niall mocks him, which he finds hilarious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and takes a swig from your drink. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it, but if you feel like you need a shoulder, you can come to me.”

“I know,” Harry sighs. “Thanks, I’ll just get a refill for now,” he says, holding up his cup. Niall nods and they go their separate way.

Harry fights through the crowd towards the kitchen and tries his best not to get stopped by drunk girls that are more than eager to hook up with him tonight. He would love to tell them he is taken, but he can’t. Even despite the fight you had, he still doesn’t want to go against your will and tell everyone that you’re dating. 

The kitchen is a mess, but he quickly finds the tequila and then mixes it with some pineapple juice, then he stops by the pizza and grabs a slice so his stomach wouldn’t be completely empty. Though his original plan was to get drunk, but now he is not feeling that, so this is probably his last drink, since he is starting to feel a bit dizzy. 

Leaning against the counter he is debating if he should just go back to his room and spend the rest of the night playing video games, but then he spots an all too familiar face in the crowd outside in the hallway. 

You look very uncomfortable, navigating between the half drunk people while looking like you’re searching for someone. Harry puts his pizza slice down right away and he just starts moving towards you when he sees a guy bumping into you, making your shoulder hit the wall.

“Ah, sorry sweetheart, you alright?” the guy asks and his hand is already on your arm, leaning way closer than you’d like him to.

“It’s okay Dave, I got her.” Harry pats him on the back in a friendly manner, though inside he is fuming at the way he is looking at you right now, like he is ready to peel you out of your clothes. 

“Harry, hey! I was just–”

“I know, I got her,” Harry repeats, this time with a tougher look at the guy, which he finally notices so he just nods and wanders away. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking at you, keeping one hand on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” you ask and Harry nods right away, moving his hand to the small of your back, guiding you upstairs, towards his room. 

You’ve been to his frat house, you actually met him at a party here, but you’ve never been to his room. If the other boys saw you coming and going from his room it would have been quite obvious there’s something going on between the two of you, so you usually stayed at your dorm room where it was easier for Harry to sneak out without being noticed, that place is too big for anyone to notice him.

The hallway leading to his room is scattered with couples making out by the wall and you try not to stare at the pair that’s practically dry humping each other like they are in a private place. 

Harry unlocks his door with his keycard and then ushers you inside, finally shutting the noises of the party out. You’re curiously looking around the room that’s a lot tidier than you expected. Aside from a few clothes lying in the corner and two unwashed mugs on his night stand, it’s pretty neat. On his desk you notice the book you gifted him a week ago. You pick it up and open it where the bookmark is at around the third of the book and then you realize the bookmark is a polaroid of the two of you. It was taken the first time he slept in your room, your faces are mushed together as you laugh at something. You remember him taking a picture, but you weren’t expecting him to use it as his bookmark, which is such a sweet thing. 

He has been nothing but sweet to you and that just makes your guilt even worse for treating him the way you did. 

When you turn around you find him watching you with his hands in his pockets, just patiently waiting for you to start talking. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I’m ashamed of you. That was never the case and… yeah, I’m just really sorry.”

Harry nods, but then just keeps looking at you and you know he wants you to continue. So taking a deep breath you force yourself to keep talking before you chicken out. 

“I was actually thinking it was the other way around.”

That confuses him, he frowns but before he could ask anything you just continue.

“We are not really from the same crowd. You’re… You live in a frat house, you play football, people know you around campus while I’m more like just… a face in the crowd. I know it’s such a cliché, but I felt like that if people saw us together they would question why you’d go out with me a-and–Um… I just…”

“And you thought that I would also question why I’m with you?” he finishes what you couldn’t and you just nod, feeling your throat closing up. It’s been such a heavy weight on your chest the past weeks and now that you said it out loud it’s a relief but you’re also worried how Harry will think of you now. 

Then his eyes soften and stepping closer he gathers your hands between his palms, holding them to his chest. 

“Y/N, you realize this is not a movie where there are popular kids and nerds and they never talk?” he asks with a soft chuckle, making you laugh. 

“I know. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just been haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you repeat. “Deep down I knew it, but I just couldn’t help it. I thought that I could get rid of it with time, but I couldn’t and I swear I didn’t want to hurt you with all of this, it’s just that I can easily get into these… spirals and it’s so hard to get out of them.”

“I know,” he softly says and leaning closer he kisses your forehead. “I just wish you told me so I could help you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.”

Letting go of your hands he cups your cheeks in his palms as he pulls you in for a kiss while your hands fist the fabric of his shirt at his waist. He is sweet and gentle, his lips reassuring you that he is right here, with you. He rests his forehead against yours, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. 

“By the way, did you just call me a nerd?” you ask, opening your eyes, making Harry laugh with your words.

“Do you not fit the nerdy stereotype of romcoms?” he challenges you with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I do study a lot and spend every other afternoon in the library.”

“See? You’re my little nerdy Valentine,” he arches an eyebrow and you just roll your eyes at him, but can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. Then slowly, his expression turns more serious. “So what would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Listen. If you need more time… I’m okay with that. I want you to feel comfortable and if that means that I have to convince you that no one will point fingers at us if they see us together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You’ve known it from the beginning, but Harry just keeps proving that he is the right person for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for him. 

Leaning in you kiss him shortly. “I want to move forward, I’m just a bit scared.”

“Then you’ll lead us in whatever pace feels comfortable for you, okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. 

“Do you want to go back down?” he asks, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Walking out of his room he locks the door and the two of you head back down and you notice that he is still keeping his distance from you, not trying to change everything all of a sudden. Returning to the kitchen he makes you a drink and he grabs another slice of pizza when Niall emerges from the crowd. 

“Hey, you’re still here! Thought you’d lock yourself up in your room soon,” he chuckles seeing Harry.

“You thought I’d bail?” Harry grins, leaning against the counter. Niall’s eyes move over to you.

“I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Niall.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. You catch a look the two boys exchange and after that, Niall just smiles at Harry knowingly.

“Alright, I’ll be by the beerpong tables if you need me,” he waves before making his way out of the kitchen. 

“You have a bit of sauce there,” you point at Harry’s mouth smiling.

“Hm? Here?” he asks, wiping his lips, but he completely misses the spot, making you laugh. “Where?” he grins.

“Right there…” You raise a hand to help him out, but it stops midway when a thought pops into your mind and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lean in and kiss his lips. 

“Now you’re good,” you smile against his lips. Harry can’t contain his growing grin, because this was the first time you kissed him in front of other people. 

“I think it’s still there.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle at him.

“Yeah, all over my lips, everywhere.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes at him laughing. He leans down and kisses you shortly before he continues eating his pizza, trying his best not to comment it when your hand sneaks into free hand, fingers lacing together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

love faces

summary: you break up with your shitty boyfriend and paige makes you feel better 🤭

content warnings: nsfw smut fingering thigh riding

inspired by love faces by trey songz and this edit right here 🙂‍↕️🧎‍♀️

“I’m so done with you, Noah. I can’t take this anymore.” You scoffed at your boyfriend as you grab the few belongings you had with you, stuffing your phone into your purse.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve heard that one before.” Your boyfriend mocked from his couch where he lounged back, eyes focused on the video game he was playing.

“No! I mean it this time. I’m done.” You insist before storming out of his apartment.

You had plans for a romantic dinner with Noah tonight, but of course he forgot so when you showed up to his place, dressed to the nines, excited for your evening and you were met with a peroxide blonde feeling up on him, you lost it. You’d turned one too many blind eyes to Noahs ways in the past because you thought loved him but you were over being treated like you didn’t exist.

“Hi Azzi, I’m sorry to do this but I need a ride. I think… I just broke up with Noah.” You explain to your best friend over the phone, hoping she’d be able to come and pick you up from the off campus apartment complex.

Azzi wasn’t home, she was out for dinner with her family that were in town but she told you to hang tight, she’d sort out your ride home.

As you wait on the side on the road, you contemplate going back to the apartment and just ignoring what you saw, like you had many times before. Noah was your first boyfriend, your first everything and you loved him, at least that’s what you thought but maybe it wasn’t him you loved, maybe it was just the thought of him. Either way, you never imagined you’d be the one to break up with him, he always said you’d never have the guts to leave him and maybe he was right.

You were about to swallow your pride and go back up the stairs when you saw a set of highlights heading your way. It was dark so you couldn’t make out the car until it was in front of you, it was Paige.

Paige was Azzis best friend, a different type of best friend than you. You’d known Azzi your whole life, practically grew up as sisters where as, she’d met Paige later on down the line at a basketball tournament. You’d met Paige yourself not long after that tournament and you’d grown to know her well so it wasn’t weird that she was the one to come and pick you up tonight.

Paige beeps the horn of her car a few times when you don’t move and you know now, it’s too late to go back. You and Noah were done.

“Hi, thanks for coming.” You say slipping into the passenger seat, your short dress that clung to your thighs riding up slightly.

“No problem ma, Azzi told me situation. Sorry to hear.” Paige sympathised, giving your exposed thigh a comforting rub.

“It’s all good. Was about time.” You say knowing exactly how your friends thought of Noah and the way he treated you.

“Well I didn’t want to say it, but good riddance.” She jokes and she begins to drive you home.

Paige invites you back to her and Azzis place, saying it’s best you’re not alone tonight and you agree, being with the two girls will stop you from calling Noah and going back on your word.

You and Paige sit side by side on the couch, Azzi still isn’t home and won’t be for a while and your mind strays back to the first time you met Paige and the way she enticed you. Her perfectly chiselled features that have only grown more perfect the older she got, her eyes like pools of water from the freshest part of the ocean that locked onto yours so easily and made you feel like you were the only person in the room when she spoke to you. You always thought her and Azzi would end up together but they’ve made it clear, on multiple occasions, their relationship is strictly platonic.

“You were too beautiful for a jerk like Noah anyway.” Paige pipes up, capturing your attention and you clear your throat, glad mind reading isn’t a thing because then Paige would know exactly what you were thinking about her and the way her body language made your heart palpate.

“Thank you, P.” You say and fight the urge to lean your body into hers despite how much you wanted to. You didn’t want Paige to feel like a rebound. Was she a rebound? Shit, even you didn’t know at this point. You had just broken up with your boyfriend, you thought you’d be crying your eyes out but you’re clenching your thighs at the thought of the girl next to you.

Paige fidgets beside you and you look at her, daring her to say something, anything to break the tension that was slowly building between you both.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Y/N. But when I said you were beautiful, I really meant it. I’ve thought it since I first met you.” She admits looking at you with that God forsaken eye contact that makes your stomach flip.

“Really?” You ask but you believe her, you can see it in the way she’s looking at you.

“Really.” She says, her fingers coming to your thigh to softly draw shapes on your skin.

“Come closer.” She rasps almost asking for your permission and you comply, scooting your body along the couch so you’re as close to Paige as you can get.

Her hand travels further up your thigh leaving goosebumps along your skin in its wake, she reaches your waist and you gasp at the feeling, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” She say seriously but you shake your head, “Don’t stop.” So she leans her face into yours, your foreheads touching first before her lips press to yours.

You both pull away at first and just look at each other, both asking the other is this what we want without actually saying it but the way your lips find each others again, in a hungry, needy kiss, gives you your answer.

It doesn’t take long for you to be on your back, Paige on top of you, hands exploring every part of your body, fingers digging to your hips as her tongue danced in your mouth.

“Not here.” She says breathlessly, breaking the kiss and standing up.

Paige takes your hand and leads you down the hall to her bedroom and once the door is closed behind you, there’s no stopping your frantic movements, ripping each others clothes off, kissing inbetween the shedding of each layer. Your head is fuzzy at the thought of what’s about to happen and you feel drunk off the adrenaline of feeling Paiges bare skin against yours, her toned stomach under your finger tips, her lips on you neck.

You’re layed on your back, legs spread as Paige in kneeled in between them, you feel exposed in a way you’ve never been before but your body is begging to be touched. Paige trails her fingers along the inside of your thighs, teasing as they get closer and closer to your already soaked folds.

“So fucking pretty ma.” She breathes out and you squirm at her light touch, you want it deeper, firmer, you need it.

“Paige, please.” You moan bucking your hips up towards what you so desperately want.

“I want to take my time with you, be gentle.”

“You can be gentle,” You say, this is your first time with a woman and Paige knows that, “but fuck taking your time. I need you, now.” You whimper which quickly turns into a moan as Paige slips a finger inside you.

“Shit.” She pumps in and out of you before slipping a second finger in and then a third and you try to close your thighs at the feeling of her slender digits stretching you out but she holds your legs open with the hand that isn’t curling up inside of you, hitting your g-spot.

“Holy fuck, P.” You gasp, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Does it feel good baby? Tell me how it feels when I touch you.” Paige cooed from in between your legs and hearing the word baby come out of her mouth so low and breathy made your head spin.

“So-ugh good. Oh my-fuck!” You let out a loud groan as her thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing tight circles over the already sensitive spot, you were about to cum, you could tell by the way your walls contracted around Paiges fingers, plunged deep inside you.

“Gonna cum- shit Paige, I’m gonna-“ You slap your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries you were about the let out.

“Nuh uh, I wanna hear you ma, don’t be shy.” Paige tells you applying more pressure to your clit, pushing you to the very edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Right there, P. Shit.”

Your legs are twitching and spasming and everything cuts to white noise for a split second as you come to your climax, releasing all over Paiges fingers, your juices seeping out onto the mattress below.

“Look at you.” Paige breathes out lifting her hand to show you her soaked fingers and you lift yourself up, slightly light headed, your once perfectly curled hair, stuck to sweat droplets on your forehead and you open your mouth for Paige to stuff in her fingers into.

You run your tongue along her fingers then slip it through the middle of them, tasting yourself and moaning at the flavour. Paige pulls her fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with her tongue taking in whatever was left over in your mouth.

You’re both knelt on her bed, face to face, you finally coming down from your high and you dip your head peppering kisses along her neck and chest, your tongue peeking out to flick at her perky nipples, she moans as you take it in your mouth, sucking gently.

You manoeuvre your knee inbetween her thighs, pressing teasingly at her pussy and the sharp intake of breath tells you she likes it. She begins to grind on your knee, her hands falling to your shoulders for support as you continue tracing your tongue over her tits.

You press your knee further into her, feeling her slick leak out onto you and you glance up from her chest to see Paige already looking down at you latched onto her nipple, her bottom lip clenched in her teeth as she rocks her hips on your knee.

“I wanna ride your thigh ma. Can I ride your thigh?” Paige practically begs and you nod helping her position herself over your thigh, her wet pussy warm against your bare skin.

Her hands find your shoulders again and your grip onto her hips as she gets back into the rhythmic thrusting and her knee naturally finds itself nestled between your legs and with her bouncing on your thigh, your clit is being teased once again so you lean into her and match her pace and speed, both of you grinding and rubbing against each other.

You watch Paige intensely as her eyes flutter shut and her head tips back a low groan escaping her mouth, “Fuck, you feel so good under me.” She mummbles. You loved the way Paige looked, getting off on your thigh, eyes screwed shut in pleasure caused by your body. Her hands moving from your shoulders, into your hair tugging at the roots. The sharp feeling only turned you on more and you wanted Paige to feel the same way so you dipped one of your hands down to her clit and moved your fingers in the perfect pattern, her grip tightening on your hair as you did.

“Shit ma, you’re gonna make me cum. Ugh fuck- keep doing that.” She moaned, pressing herself further onto your fingers.

“I want you to cum on me P.” You purred digging your fingers into her hips forcing her to move faster.

“Shit baby, cum again with me.” She says, her eyes flicking down to where you were working yourself on her knee.

“T-touch me.” You plead, head falling to her shoulder and she wastes no time matching your actions, dropping her hand down to tease your throbbing clit.

You work in sync bringing each other to splintering climaxes at the same time, shockwaves ripple through you both and Paige throws her head back, mouth open as she moans out your name. Your head is still rested on her shoulder as you cum for the second time that night, legs shaking and gasping for breath.

You dissolve into a pool of pleasure, entangled with Paige, skin clammy and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. Paiges hair that was slicked back at the beginning of the night had loosened and stray strands framed her face. You looked different compared to the beginning of the night too, your lipstick was smudged and mascara had run but none of that mattered after what you just experienced.

Your chest still heaved as you laid together, Paige absentmindedly trailing her fingers down your bare back and you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for you both.

“Paige…” You tried to broach the subject but she cut you off, “Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Azzi will be back soon and we better make ourselves look presentable before that.”

“I just want to you to know, this wasn’t rebound sex. I wouldn’t do that to you.” You say fiddling with the chain around her neck.

“Good, because I’d really like to do that again.” She replies taking your hand in hers and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You clean yourselves up and change Paiges messy sheets just before Azzi walks in the door.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Azzi says pulling you into a tight hug, “I hope Paige looked after you.” And you can’t help but smirk into your best friends shoulder, “Oh, she did.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: happy (freaky) friday 😚

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

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

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

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

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

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

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

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

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 2

Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader

Part 1 here

smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)

“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others. 

“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me. 

“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified. 

I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.” 

After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much. 

While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him. 

A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side. 

“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.” 

“Hey, its good to be home.”

“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.” 

I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”

I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak. 

I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading. 

Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..

Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 

Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks. 

I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think  I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive. 

I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god. 

That can’t be… 

I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment. 

“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.

“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.

I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. 

“Baby, please. Listen.” 

“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip. 

“Please, just let me explain.”

“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch. 

My hands flew up. “Oh, great.” 

“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”

“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing. 

“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”

I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. 

He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me. 

“Yes, actually.” 

His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”

"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat. 

"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.

"Wh-what?"

"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better." 

I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin. 

My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.

"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.

I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again." 

He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.

2 weeks later...

I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.

The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.

Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window. 

Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both. 

A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.

I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"

Oh.. it's just..

"The hells going on with you and Negan?"

"What?" 

"Ya heard me."

I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.

"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak. 

"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"

Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."

Tears filled my eyes. 

“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”

"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?" 

"You should know. He only went to your house."

I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.

Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk. 

Part 3 here

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[hellfirenacht]

C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 2)

Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans. 

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, smut later, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, three-shot

Master List

3.8k Words

Part 1

You and Eddie didn’t talk about the plan again until the night of Homecoming. Most of the chats you had about what was going to happen tonight was about the secret show that Corroded Coffin was going to do right after the dance. 

Honestly, you had heard a few kids quietly whispering about the show, which surprised you. You wondered how many people were interested in the music versus wanting to see the Freak and his band play. After all, Corroded Coffin only really played The Hideout on Tuesdays, which wasn’t exactly the best time slot for high schoolers. 

It was about a half hour before the dance was supposed to start, and you had spent the whole day distracted. You kept reading that stupid note over and over again, and anyone watching you would think that you were just excited about a secret date. The truth was that you hoped that the note would somehow give you any sort of clue about what was planned for you when you made your way into the gym that night. 

You’d convinced the rest of Hellfire to try and gather any information on what was going to happen, but no one came back with any information. Even Lucas, who was a jock, couldn’t get any information from anyone. 

Maybe this would be a Carrie situation. 

Having telekinetic powers could be cool though. 

You stared hard at the brush on your desk that night, trying to make it move with your mind. Nothing happened. 

It might not have moved because as you were glaring at your brush, a knock came at your bedroom door. It was your mom, wanting you to come outside and take photos of you in your outfit. And yeah, you were a little excited to do that after all the work that you had put into looking this nice for a fifteen minute bit. It wouldn’t hurt to have proof that you looked good tonight.

You stood up and smoothed out your dress before walking outside into the front yard as your mom called out that she’d be out there in a second as she grabbed the camera.

You didn’t expect anyone else to be outside, but when you stepped out the door you were greeted with the sight of someone standing on the porch.

It was Eddie.

Eddie Munson. 

His hair was freshly washed and his waves were framing his face perfectly. His leather jacket had been discarded for the night and he was wearing a dark gray button-up shirt that looked almost black with the top two buttons undone. The closest you’d ever seen him wear a button up were a few flannels that he wore in the fall and winter. His jeans looked... they looked new. New and dark blue with no holes in them to be seen. The only pieces of his outfit that you recognized were his rings and his reeboks. The twilight had cast a near purple haze over your neighborhood, and Eddie... Eddie looked good in that fading light. 

“Holy shit.” You said, after staring at him like an idiot for a moment. “Who are you and what have you done with Eddie?”

“Ha Ha.” Eddie fake laughed. “I could say the same about you.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm, unsure if that was a compliment or not. “I... You look good.” you said more genuinely. 

This caused Eddie to shift slightly on his feet. “You look better.”

You could have died on the spot. 

“Wait, what are you doing here?” you asked. “I thought we were meeting up at the school?” 

“You’re coming to the show with me after this anyway.” Eddie explained. “It’d be easier if I just drove both of us. We can still pretend that we didn’t meet up, I can drop you off at the school where no one will see us together and I’ll follow you inside after a few minutes.”

That made sense, you were going to be helping out with set up after the dance anyway. 

“You might have made a mistake coming out here to pick me up, you know.” you said. “My mom will be out here in about two minutes and if she sees you, she’s going to make us take cheesy photos together.”

“I can humor your mom for a few minutes for this.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, I owe her for being such a loyal customer.”

You stared at him. “Eddie... what do you mean by that?”

He gave you that trademark shit-eating grin, the one that he often used during club when he knew he was about to royally piss everyone off. 

“How else do you think I was able to buy new jeans?” he asked, his brown eyes shining in the lingering twilight. 

“Eddie Munson, you motherfucker, do not tell me that you sell drugs to my own mother-” 

Speak of your mother, and she shall appear with a smile and a camera in hand. You were going to have a long talk with Eddie later about boundaries and selling weed to your mother, even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

Your mom quickly ushered you to take some solo pictures of you, and Eddie stood behind her watching with amusement as you awkwardly posed in the way you had seen in some teen magazine that you’d browsed when waiting in line at the grocery store. You felt stiff and awkward until Eddie started making faces behind your mom’s back that had you breaking out into a fit of giggles. He was totally going to give you shit for this later, but you knew he’d have his moment in the spotlight in a moment as well. 

Eddie was next up, but somehow he had no problem casually posing and smiling for your mom’s camera. Asshole. 

Then the couple’s pictures came and your mom made it clear exactly how she had wanted you two to pose. Eddie didn’t even hesitate wrapping his arm around your waist and holding your hand. 

For a few moments, you forgot what was supposed to happen that night. In this moment, you could really believe that you were going on a date with your best friend, and that he was holding your hand because he wanted to, not just because he was being forced to because of a favor. Eddie had always been a good actor, and you thought that if he wasn’t such a metal-and-D&D nerd, he could have been great in the theater department. 

Eddie really was a storyteller at heart. In music, in Dungeons and Dragons, in his doodles, the way he played up his Freak persona, and in this moment with his arms settled on your hips and his head on your shoulder. If Eddie wanted to captivate with a story, he could. 

It’s a shame that a story was all this was. 

Once the two of you were finally released from the watchful eye of your moms camera, Eddie led you to his van. He opened the passenger seat door for you, and even helped you into your seat as if he were a real gentleman. You didn’t think anyone had ever done that for you before. 

“So... is there a plan for how we’re going to do this?” you asked. “We haven’t really talked about how this is going to happen.” 

“What time is your secret admirer supposed to show up?” Eddie asked, the sound of his mixtape crackling through the air. 

“7:30.” 

“Then you’ll go in about five minutes early, stand in the middle of the gym, and at 7:30 I’ll burst in, sweep you off your feet, and then we can blow this joint.” Eddie said. 

“I could use a joint.” you sighed, looking out the window as reality came back. You weren’t a princess, and this wasn’t a fairytale. Eddie was only doing this as a favor, nothing more. 

“I’ll let you have one after we set up for the show.” He promised, pulling his van up to behind the school where no one was going to be dropped off for the dance. “I’ll see you inside in five minutes.” 

You gave him a nod. “See you on the other side, Freak.” 

You slipped to the entrance of the gym, and walked towards the booth where you presented your homecoming ticket. Homecoming had started at 7 pm on the dot and most students were already inside, dancing and giggling and having fun. The sound of the latest pop songs were echoing through the halls outside of the gym. The cheerleader running the ticket booth looked you up and down with a giggle.

“I love your outfit! It’s so... unique!” she gave you a smile that was way too wide and you grit your teeth at the false compliment. You shoved that anger down into your gut, and gave your best fake smile back, hoping that you sounded more sincere. 

“Thank you, so much!” Your voice came out a bit higher pitched than anticipated, but the cheerleader didn’t seem to notice. 

“Your Secret Admirer is going to love it.” She continued, and you felt your stomach twist. Shit, the cheerleaders were in on this too? You wondered how many people were in on this. “He asked me to give you this when you got here.”

She handed you a note, in the same sloppy handwriting as before. 

Meet me in the center of the dance floor at 7:30. 

It was 7:26 right now. You were tempted to make the assholes wait, after all, you wanted to make sure Eddie had a chance to get here before they could. But the cheerleader obviously saw you read the note, and there was no time to turn back. 

Just show up for me. Eddie. You thought to yourself. Although this had been your idea, you were feeling nervous now. You really were about to put yourself out on full display to the school, willingly offering yourself up on a plate to your peers for humiliation. What if this didn’t work? What if Eddie didn’t make it in time? What if something worse happened with Eddie here? 

The short walk from the entrance to the middle of the dance floor felt like slow motion. Your mind felt fuzzy and you hoped that you weren’t shaking from nerves. You stood in the center of the dance floor, and turned to face the single clock in the back of the gym. You could barely make out the time with the distance and dim lights, but you knew it was almost time. 

7:27

7:28

You could do this

7:29

Almost time....

7:30

7:31

Where the fuck was Eddie?

7:32

Did he get held up?

7:33

Did he change his mind?

7:34

Fuck, you could hear the giggling.

7:35

You felt a tap on your shoulder. 

This was it. 

You turned around slowly, waiting for the worst. 

Eddie stood before you, corsage in hand, on one knee as if he was proposing to you. 

Maybe this was the real prank. Maybe the real prank was the one you played on yourself to be able to see your best friend kneeling and smiling up at you, offering you a corsage. 

Time froze for a second as you took in the sight and committed it to memory. 

“I’m glad you made it.” Eddie said, loud enough for anyone to hear. He really did have that natural projection that should have had the theater kids begging him to join them. “I knew you’d respond to my note.”

There was a dull murmur of confusion behind you, and you saw Eddie’s eyes flicker to something that you couldn’t see and he gave you a small nod. 

Fuck, that was your cue. 

You brought your hands up to your mouth, acting like all of the actresses you’d seen on tv who’s characters had been proposed to. You began nodding and accepted the corsage, letting him slide it onto your wrist. 

How had he known what color to get to match your dress? 

Eddie stood up and you threw your arms around him. “I was hoping it was you!” you said loudly, no need to act for this part. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up and spun you around once. He really was deceptively strong, and you giggled as he set you down. Your lips met his cheek. His arms stayed around you. 

Eddie smiled at you in a way that made your cheeks heat up and your knees feel weak. 

You two were staring at each other. 

The music changed. 

Eddie moved one of his hands from around your waist to grab yours, and the two of you were slow dancing before you even fully knew what was happening. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You asked, following his movements. 

“You said you wanted to really sell this that we were together now.” Eddie said, keeping his eyes on you. “I don’t know how many people would believe it if I showed up and we immediately left. It wouldn’t exactly be memorable.” 

“Right, good point.” you agreed. 

“I always have good points, that’s why I’m the dungeon master.” Eddie chuckled, “Besides, it’d be a shame that you put in this much effort to look good for little old me to not show you off. What kind of boyfriend would I be? I have to make sure that I get a reputation for being a mean and scary freak, but also a decent date.”

Boyfriend. 

“Shit.” you said quietly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing with a frown. 

“I didn’t think about what happens after this. You agreed to be my fake date, but I don’t want you to feel trapped with me after this.” you said. “Yeah, this’ll get everyone off my back for now but when school starts again, I don’t want you to feel like you have to act like we’re together.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Eddie said. “It’s not like my dating life is thriving here anyway. Between you and me, I’m a little too old for those who dare try and get with the Freak here.”

You let out a small laugh. “Tired of one night stands with girls who just want bragging rights?” 

“After the third time, I was starting to feel like I was cheating on my right hand.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, erupting into a fit of giggles. This felt right, this relaxed moment with Eddie. This is how it was supposed to feel with someone, right? It was supposed to be easy, and with Eddie it always was. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” you said after your giggles had died down. “I really owe you one.”

“I thought this plan was me owing you one.” Eddie asked. 

“This is honestly above and beyond helping you get a passing grade for a test.” you admitted. “I know you have your show tonight, and you hate doing anything for school. Plus, you showed up wearing this and you spent money on jeans and the corsage- oh, thank you for the corsage-”

“Hey,” Eddie snapped you out of your rambling. “Don’t act like you forced me to do anything. You said I had full creative control tonight. I chose to do all this for you.”

“Why?” you asked, meeting his eyes. “You could have so easily told me to just fuck off and said no.”

“I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly my idea of how this night was going to go.” Eddie said. “But then you said that you wanted the Freak to show up for you. I wanted to know what would happen if it was just Eddie.” 

“Just Eddie...” you said quietly. Not the Freak, not the satanic cult leader, not the dungeon master. Just Eddie, your friend. “I’m glad that just Eddie was the one to show up.” your mouth went dry. “I- ...Eddie I-”

The two of you had stopped moving in slow circles, Eddie was closer than he had ever been to you before. You forgot where you were and Eddie was leaning closer to you, his mouth opening as if he was going to say something. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Whatever it was, it was room temperature, and sticky. It dripped down from your hair, down your face and onto your dress. You looked down to see pools of red flooding below you on the gym floor, and then your head shot up to see Eddie, covered in the same sticky substance with a dumbstruck look on his face. 

Blood? Was that actually blood?! Was Eddie bleeding? Were you? Wait, had someone actually dumped pigs blood on you?

Eddie wiped his face, smearing the substance on his skin and hand and carefully brought it to his face and sniffed it, and then gave it a small lick.

“Corn syrup.” he said and looked at you, his eyes wide in shock. 

“You mean this was a Carrie situation?!” you asked in a loud whisper as the two of you stared at each other. You looked around, and saw the group of jocks laughing and high fiving each other. One of them was holding an old paint bucket. Your body froze, and you couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Those assholes had thrown fake blood on you and Eddie. They won. You fucked up. Eddie did so much for you tonight and you never even considered that the jocks would be smart enough to adjust their plans to account for Eddie being here-

Then Eddie started laughing, like really laughing. It was that genuine laugh that you’d heard a hundred times when the party came up with a stupid plan to get past one of Eddie’s challenges in Hellfire. 

He looked at you, with a spark in his eyes and a grin that was manic. 

His laughter was so contagious, that you found yourself laughing as well. You heard the laughter from the jocks start to die down and turn into mutters of confusion. The whole gym seemed to go silent, and you think the DJ stopped the music but you were laughing too much to care. 

How fucking rediculous was this? It was almost too obvious what they had set up, but you didn’t think they were this unoriginal. How did they even sneak in the bucket? How did no faculty or staff react to this?!

“I guess the Freak is showing up, anyway.” Eddie laughed and looked at you. “Let’s give them the show they want.”

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and started pulling you in. Instinct took over and you gripped at his stained shirt and then your lips met. The kiss was met with gasps and oohs and shouts from around you, but you didn’t care. Eddie was kissing you, and you were kissing him back. The two of you must have looked like a spectacle, covered in fake blood and making out with him in the middle of the dance floor after laughing like maniacs.

“Stop that, right now you two!” you heard a teacher yell, and that’s when Eddie pulled back.

“Feel free to kill me for that later, okay?” That wild smile was still on his face. 

“I think we should run now.” you agreed, deciding that whatever had just happened within the last 30 seconds could be processed later. You could see a few teachers starting to finally take action and start to run over, and the jocks were now scattering. Even though you and Eddie were the victims here, you didn’t really feel like sticking around. Whatever would happen with the school, could wait until Monday.

Eddie grabbed your hand, flipped off the few jocks that were still gawking, and the two of you took off running through the exit doors of the gym, the two of you laughing and cackling like mad. 

“Fake blood!” you yelled as the two of you dashed across the parking lot. “They threw fake blood on us!” 

“They actually spent money to get that much corn syrup and dye!” Eddie laughed, opening the door to his van for you again. 

“Shit, it’s gonna get all over your van.” you said, taking your seat anyway and buckling up. 

“That’s the least worrying thing I’ve spilled in here. Don’t worry about it.” He said, hopping into the driver side seat. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t think they had it in them!”

“Eddie, they ruined your new clothes.” You frowned, looking at him. The fake blood was starting to dry to your skin, and you could see it starting to give Eddie’s hair an odd texture in certain areas. 

“They also ruined your dress.” 

“Yeah, but I was never going to wear this again.” you said. 

“And I was going to ruin these clothes anyway.” he shrugged and started the car, peeling out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell. Eddie’s lead foot hit the gas and the two of you were speeding down the road, out of town towards the quarry. 

“Holy shit.” you said, leaning against the seat as the adrenaline faded. 

“I think that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie said, still smiling. “I think the blood really adds to Corroded Coffin’s whole thing.” 

You shook your head, grabbing some napkins from the floor and wiping your hands off. “Shit, do we owe them a thanks now? Should we send them a fruit basket?” 

“Nah, they’ll get what they deserve. A slap on the wrist for pulling this stunt at a school function.” Eddie glanced at you with a wry grin. 

“Right, why do I feel like they’ll get off easy but somehow we’re gonna be the ones in trouble on Monday?” You rolled your eyes and lowered your voice in a horrible imitation of Principal Higgins. “Yes, those two played a harmless prank by dumping corn syrup on you, but you two displayed unsightly behavior in front of everyone in some sort of Hellish ritual-”

“Ouch. I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser.” 

You stopped talking and suddenly the corn syrup felt sticky and uncomfortable. You still hadn’t been able to digest the fact that the two of you had kissed- no, you two had full on made-out in front of the whole student body. Had there been tongue? You honestly couldn’t remember. 

An awkward silence settled over the two of you and you were unsure of what to say. You wanted to tell him that no, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. You wanted to be smooth and say something like “Well, I wasn’t really paying attention before, how about we try again?”. You wanted to say anything to indicate that you liked it and very much wanted to do it again. 

Instead the two of you sat in the loudest silence you had ever been in as the two of you drove the long strip down to the quarry. You scolded yourself, thinking that saying anything had to be better than saying nothing. 

And yet no words came out.

This was supposed to be a one shot in April. Now it's a three-shot. Do NOT let me write more than three chapters. The third chapter is almost done. There will be smut.

Divider by @strangergraphics

Tag List: @supernaturalstilinski @wonderlanddreamer @princesssunderworld @kores-mun-son-n-more @munsonfiles

@ladysilence @ghcstpyre @avalon-wolf @huffledor-able541 @sheneedsrocknroll92

@i-trash-about-things

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 8

masterpost Danny did his best not to float through the building. His chest buzzed pleasantly with cheerful nerves. Jason had let him into his haunt and let him meet a family member: it was only fair to reciprocate with a little vulnerability. He was more than a little nervous that his interests weren’t cool enough. But Jason was actually listening to him, not rolling his eyes or hiding boredom at how many details Danny rattled off. It was really nice. It made him want to find out what Jason was passionate about, too. It made him want to curl under Jason’s arm. Like, lift it up and insert himself in the warm space between Jason’s body and arm. He could just sneak on in there-

Hmm. Wait. Danny blinked as he tracked his train of thought back. PDA? He stole a glance. Probably not a good idea so early into hanging out. It would come off clingy. Since Danny was legitimately a clingy motherfucker, he had to play it cool for a while to trick Jason into a false sense of security. He was trying to be on his best behavior still. 

“Oh hell yeah, we’re going to the Ring Nebula.” Jason was reading the signage, bright eyes tracking everyone moving around them and steering them effortlessly. Danny noted the multitasking with a sort of puzzled admiration. He could walk in a crowd or he could read, just one of the two. “What’s a nebula?” An incredibly subtle aura washed out from him with his self assurance and confidence. Jason just felt so in control. It was incredibly reassuring to be around. Crowds parted for him and all Danny had to do was keep pace. 

“It’s the remains of a star.  That’s a Messier object, actually. There’s a white dot at the center which is a white dwarf and then around it there’s helium, hydrogen, oxygen-” Danny cut himself off, embarrassed. He was so messy, oozing excitement all over the place. He reeled himself in and cleared his throat. “You can read about it when we get there.”

Jason frowned very slightly.

Danny felt his stomach twist. 

“What’s a Messier object?”

Oh. Danny relaxed. He talked with his hands as he explained the French astronomer, barely noticing the crowd swell that nearly bumped into him. Jason put an arm over his shoulder and steered him away. Danny absently recognized the assist but didn’t have any processing power to think about it right now. 

Jason let him go on for most of the date, which Danny would probably be embarrassed by later. In the moment, he basked in the attention. It was just nice, okay?

“I should head back.” Jason said with regret. His arm clenched just a little harder on Danny’s shoulder. His hand was warm where it hung down Danny’s chest. “Gotta get Duke his bribe and then get ready for work.” 

Danny waited for a moment. He didn’t want to step away. But maybe Jason didn’t either, because he didn’t take his arm off.

‘One of us has to move first.’

“Yeah, of course.” Danny regretfully disentangled himself, ducking out of the hold. He was a grownup or whatever. “Better get a move on. What are we getting for Duke?” They’d only snacked on ice cream while they were in the planetarium. 

Jason checked the time on his phone and let out a huffing sigh. “I don’t have time for my original plan.”

‘Because he humored me here for two hours…’

“Gimme a sec, I’ll call him and ask what he wants me to pick up.” Danny nodded in response and started jogging down the stairs out of the building, trying not to look like he was listening in. He didn’t want to listen in, he just had really good ears.

Ring once, ring twice. Then Duke picked up the call.

“Hey,” Jason said. “I-”

“Hey yourself,” said an unfamiliar voice that definitely was not Duke. It was sweet with malice.

‘Did Jason’s little brother get kidnapped while we were out?’ Danny wondered, struck still with horror. He stopped with one foot hovering over the next stair and wheeled around to look at his date.

Jason looked thunderous, brow pulled low and teeth showing. “Fuc- why do you have his phone?” Jason’s tone went high and aggrieved.

Danny prepared himself to beat the shit out of a living human. It wouldn’t be hard. 

“Because I am his favorite older brother. Obviously.”

Oh. The fight left Danny’s body in a rush.

“I am pressing X,” Jason snarked. He squeezed Danny’s shoulder and guided him into movement again. “Give it back to him and get out of my house.”

“Tu casa es mi casa,” said the man who had to be the infamous Dick, balcony infestation. “Why do you care?” His tone was so innocent that Danny sort of wanted to turn on his heel to escape whatever older shithead sibling fuckery this was. “Aren’t you busy making kissy faces at the summoning guy?”

Danny bounced off of Jason’s chest when he stopped walking midstep.

‘How does he know that? Jason didn’t say anything, right?’

“And, follow up question for Jay, does this make you a monsterfucker?” Duke howled with laughter in the background. Danny noted the betrayal. 

Dick sounded gleeful as he pushed on the topic. “He’s dead, right? What supernatural romance genre are you in? Is he going to take you to his creepy castle and keep you there? Does he have an ancient enemy who might kidnap you? Do you think he could carry you away when he rescues you? Are you looking forward to that?”

Danny huffed and yanked Jason’s hand down to bring the phone closer. He hit the speaker. “Of course I could carry him. But I would not keep him in my creepy castle against his will, you jerk,” he fumed. “And I don’t have any ancient enemies! At last, no one that I haven’t already beat up. It’s fine. Shut up and go away.” He crossed his arms.

Jason was bright red. Dick started laughing hysterically on the other side of the phone. “This is- hi, Danny!” he cackled. “You have a creepy castle, though? For the record?”

Oh no. He felt a rock form in his stomach.

‘I probably should have kept my mouth shut.’

He looked at Jason’s feet guiltily. Belatedly, he let go of his grip on Jason’s wrist.

“You sound great, wanna meet up? I need to hear about how you’re so sure you could carry my little brother away from danger. It sounds romantic.” Dick cooed. Ew. Danny bristled. This was bringing up all sorts of Jazz related trauma.

“He will not be meeting you.” Jason took the phone back. “Ever.”

“Ever?” Dick scoffed. “I really doubt that. I don’t think you could keep him away from me for one day.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason somehow puffed up his chest. “Then come find me, jackass.”

“See if I don’t.” 

Danny scoffed. “As if I need his help to dodge some nosy dweeb,” he sniffed. “Bring it, balcony creep.” He hit the end button before thinking about it.

The staircase suddenly seemed very quiet. 

Jason and Danny looked at the phone for a moment. Then Danny frowned as he realized what he’d done. “I was going to like, go back home,” he pointed out uneasily. “But that doesn’t seem in the spirit of this shitty brother challenge. And, uh.” He cleared his throat. “You had evening plans, right….”

Jason groaned and paced a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair. Danny idly watched it and wished it was his hand there. “Uh… Sorry. I can tell him to fuck off, that you’ve got better things to do.”

“...I don’t have better things to do,” Danny admitted. “I kinda want to see if he can hunt us. He’s just some guy, right?”

Jason made a face.

“Just a human guy?” Danny repeated slowly, because the hesitation there was uh, really interesting. 

“You remember how we met, right?” Jason sort of shuffled in place for a moment before he herded Danny down the sidewalk in the direction they had originally come from. “I wouldn’t say he’s a normal guy.”

…Oh, right, he’s a vigilante. Danny snorted. “That’s cute,” he said, not even trying to avoid cockiness. “I’m not worried.” He cracked his knuckles and didn’t pay attention to how bloodthirsty his grin was. “I am going to destroy your brother in a game of hide and seek so brutally that you won’t be able to look up to him afterwards.”

Jason opened his mouth. He closed it, with a considering expression. “That’s hot. Yeah, show me what you have. I can skip patrol for the night.” He gave Danny a roguish grin. “Where to, first? We have an hour before he’s out on the streets. We can get dinner, strategize?”

Danny closed his mouth on the boast that he didn’t need to strategize. This was a perfect opportunity to spend an hour batting his eyes at Jason from across a candlelit table. “Somewhere nice,” he said innocently. “He won’t immediately look for us at a date spot, will he?”

[ohmyitsfaith]

The sunshine and the grump / Part 4

Pairing: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: With your curiousity for Jennifer satisfied, but your anger about your husband’s dismissal still burning high, you decide to stay just a little bit more with the Umbrellas.

Warnings: fighting, Jayme using her power on the reader continuously

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: Honestly, I realized what my problem was when writing the last two parts of this. I was leaning too heavily on the show and not enough on my own ideas. So here's a part that I wrote on the train where I had no access to the actual show other than my memories.

Five’s reaction wasn’t comforting, but he was ambushed by Klaus the next moment and you went back to eating your breakfast. What could you do?

Technically what you came for, you already got. You now knew about Jennifer, at least you knew what mattered. Though you didn’t really know what to do with the information, your curiosity was satisfied. But thinking about going back… back to the family you thought loved you…

Well, they did love you. You knew that. Ben loved you as much as he was an asshole to you currently. And Jayme and Fei. Sloane especially. Alphonso loved you too and Chris… well he tolerated you. Only Marcus was a bit of a tough nut to crack. You didn’t give up yet on him, but… still. You didn’t want to go back.

Here, at least Klaus liked you. He talked to you, shared the information you needed with you. You wanted to get to know the Umbrellas, if you were honest. They seemed like a… very interesting bunch.

You looked at the Umbrellas that were around you. Viktor was trying to stop everyone from leaving. Klaus and Five were going on a road trip, if you heard it right. Diego and his alleged son were going to the store. Luther was nowhere to be found. And Viktor, giving up on the others, grabbed some breakfast on a tray and walked off.

You had two chances at getting to know the Umbrellas: either wait for Viktor to come back or go with Diego and his son. You quickly weighed your options, then ran after Diego.

“Diego, wait for me!”

“I still don’t like that you’re here” Diego grumbled as you walked down the street. “You’re the enemy.”

“Technically, I’m not” you pointed out. “I’m just a mere human without any powers. I’m harmless.”

“Not if you report back to your little birds” Diego rolled his eyes.

“They don’t listen to me” you sighed. “I’m not part of the team, the academy. I’m just Ben’s… wife.”

“That’s… sad.”

“It really is.”

“Okay, I’ll bite” Diego looked at you. “Why did you come to us? It can’t be just your curiosity about Jennifer.”

You looked at him for a few seconds. “No, you’re right” you sighed and looked at your hand, where your wedding band sat. “We… Me and Ben… had a fight. If I can even call it a fight.”

“I can’t read in your head, woman” Diego urged you to explain.

“Well… I think it started with me searching for information about Jennifer in his room” you started and noticed Diego’s facial expression. “I know, I shouldn’t have. But he was busy and I wanted answers” you put your hands up. “I understand why he was mad. But then he told me that I was too naive and they don’t need my help.”

“Well… that’s an asshole move, but maybe there was some truth in that. You’re… what do you even do?”

“I’m an interior designer” you supplied.

“Well then yeah, you probably wouldn’t have been able to help” Diego nodded, thinking.

“Asshole!” you hit him on the arm.

“Look, all I’m saying is that he had a reason to be mad at you. And with your job, you’re nowhere near the place where you could help anyone strategically plan” he explained.

“Why am I even here” you grumbled.

“I wonder that myself.”

You glared at him, then just entered the shop. You wondered whether it was even worth coming along with him. If staying at the hotel would’ve been better. You also wondered what Ben was doing. He was no doubt busy with his plan against the Umbrellas.

Which was stupid, in all honesty. Just because they caused some trouble at the mansion, why should they die? The Umbrellas didn’t want them dead. Well… other than Diego. Diego was all for beating them to a pulp. But the rest just wanted their home back. Which was honestly understandable. If what they said was true and they did come from a different timeline, then the fact that they lost everything and were left without even a home to go back to was… jarring, fear-inducing. Kind of what a tree would feel if it was uprooted and placed elsewhere. You could almost share the feeling. Almost.

Because you still had Ben to go back to. This was just a stupid fight, you’d be over it sooner or later. You just had to… talk to him. Alone, preferably.

And that… pretty much settled it. You’d go back and… see how things go.

You suddenly saw Diego duck behind a shelf, which made you suspicious. Especially when you saw him peek out from behind it just a moment later. He didn’t seem the type to play hide-and-seek in a convenience store, so, furrowing your brows, you went over to him.

“Diego, what-” you started, but were interrupted by Diego pulling you down beside him.

“Shush” he said lowly, then peeked out again. “They’re here…”

“Who-” you looked where he was looking and noticed Jayme and Alphonso. “Oh…”

Diego pulled you down again, glaring at you. “Try not to get me caught.”

“Oh god” you rolled your eyes, but Diego was already moving away from the spot where you were crouched. “Don’t try it, Diego!”

But no matter what you said, Diego was already standing up, right in sight of Alphonso. You held your head in your hands, unsure what you should do. Diego wouldn’t back down and would get hurt. Then again, it wasn’t like you didn’t try to stop him. It was his own fault if he got hurt. But still, you didn’t want him to get hurt. In all honesty you just wanted peace. No more fighting, no more arguing. You knew things could be fixed if everyone just sat down and talked.

You heard Diego get slammed back into a shelf and you made a decision. You stood up and ran for Alphonso. You weren’t going to stand by and just watch as the two of them fought it out in the convenience store. So you were going to stop them, whatever it took.

And it seemed the first thing it demanded of you was to take a punch in the face. Okay, it wasn’t that easy. Technically you should’ve expected the punch and ducked out of the way of it. You knew Alphonso was on high-alert and if he saw someone at full speed rushing up to him, of course he was going to act in defense and punch without checking who it was.

“Ow!” you yelped as you were thrown off your balance.

“Y/n?” Alphonso turned at your voice. “What are you-” but in the next moment he was pushed by Diego, who ran at him like a bull.

You cheek was throbbing with pain, but you forced yourself to focus on the fight. You got to your feet and saw Diego try to punch Alphonso without feeling the pain himself.

“Stop it Diego!” you yelled at him, trying to grab his arm, to pull him away.

Suddenly, a knife whizzed by you and scratched Alphonso’s leg. You heard the little boy scream behind you and Diego instantly looked toward him, all anger leaving him for a moment. He jumped up and ran for the little boy, who was whining and writhing on the floor.

You took a breath and blinked against the pain. Then leaned down to grab Alphonso’s arm to help him up.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. “With them nonetheless!”

“I-” you searched for the words. “I needed time away from…”

“So you colluded with the enemy?!”

“I did not collude with the enemy!” you denied, offended. “And they’re not our enemies!”

“Of course they’re our enemies!” Alphonso scoffed. “They broke into our home, kidnapped Marcus-”

“But they didn’t!” you interrupted. “Marcus isn’t-”

You couldn’t finish though, because Diego threw a… pan?! at Alphonso, hitting him square in the face. The impact sent Alphonso stumbling back and you stared at Diego in confusion. He had knives. Why a pan?!

But the next item came flying, all aimed at Alphonso, who kept trying to dodge. All that stumbling and dodging ended in him bumping into the aisle, knocking down the short shelves, falling onto them.

That finally alerted Jayme into action. She first spit in your direction, which at first you thought you managed to dodge.

“Jayme! What…” but the next moment a hallucination overtook you.

You were still standing in the convenience store, but this time Ben came in, tentacles out to shield you from the slaughter of Diego’s knives. You saw that the knives were hurting him, but his focus was on you. Just like the first time you met, you were saved by him.

One tentacle wrapped quietly around you, lifting you from the chaos and close to him.

“Ben” you breathed.

He pulled you close, the tentacle putting you right next to him, easing you to your feet. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. All noise washed away. It was just you and him. Like all those sweet days of solitude on your honeymoon.

“I’ll take you home, baby” he said, his voice sweet like honey.

“H-home?” you stuttered. “No, I-”

“The hallucinogen is wearing off” you heard another voice suddenly and you blinked hard.

“Don’t worry” Ben said, his voice a bit distorted and looked back at you. The next time he spoke, his voice was back to normal. “You’ll be okay, baby. They won’t hurt you there.”

Your heart calmed and your lips pulled into a gentle smile.

“Okay” you sighed. “Take me home, baby.”

All the way to the academy, you were in and out of the hallucination. In your hallucination you were on a romantic stroll with Ben, once again feeling the peace of your pink-clouded romance. In reality though, you were sweating profusely, dragged by Alphonso and Jayme to the academy, just barely not drooling. You were also breathing hard with the hallucination clouding your brain.

Jayme knew it was probably mostly your subconscious fighting against the hallucinogen. Many times she asked you to train with her for control over her hallucination. As added fun, you tried to fight it, trying to break out of the hallucination before it ran out.

So she kept spitting on you, the black goo seeping into your face. Did she feel bad for you? Yes. But you were caught with the enemy. She couldn’t in good conscience let you go back. Who knows what those criminals did to you to make you stay with them. Because as soft-hearted as you were, you wouldn’t sympathize with criminals, who broke into your home and even kidnapped your brother-in-law. That would be betraying Ben and his trust placed in you.

You kept muttering Ben's name every so often and Jayme couldn't even imagine how the man would react to his wife colluding with the enemy.

When they dragged you into the mansion’s living room, barely conscious, Ben didn’t know what to think.

He had been so mad at you the night before and so focused on the coming mission, he didn’t think much about you not being in your room. He thought that once you calmed down, you would join him in the bed. And then, in the morning you would talk it out as you did all your arguments.

Even if this was bigger than any of your previous ones.

But you weren’t there in the morning, your place still the same way it was the night before. It didn’t take much for Ben to realize that you were never there. By then, he was calm, he had forgiven you for the snooping, after all he was busy and didn’t really have time to search for the answers with you. He was also slightly guilty about dismissing your help at the second mission planning meeting. He knew he was an asshole to you, even though at the time he justified it with being mad at you.

But he really wanted to talk it out with you. To solve this issue. After all, everyone was on edge, him especially. Since you were in his life, there weren’t big enemies like the Umbrellas were right now. Not only did he want to keep you safe, he also wanted to prove himself.

So it was understandable that he was feeling more stressed about this.

Now though? He didn’t know what to think.

“What happened?” he asked, confused but he could feel the rage starting to burn in him. “Why is she under your power?”

Jayme and Alphonso shared a look.

“We found her with the Umbrellas.”

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Taglist: @snixx2088, @lxkeeeee, @kimm4710, @sagestack, @koshi-sama, @cherryinsalemverse, @lifrimen, @inkedeye2345, @popstarbarbiee

[tyinghershoe]

This with bakugo except yall aren't dating and he has a lil crush

I died laughing reading this. I couldn’t NOT write this out.

Bakugo finds out that you’re telling people he’s your babies father.

Above all, Bakugo is flustered!  

Sure, the first shock arose a hint of anger and embarrassment - as expected when your crush is telling people all sorts of things - but afterward, there was an underlying feeling of giddiness, a type of glow as he thought about how “holy shit, y/n talks about me? I'm on their mind?” 

So, it’s safe to say that he isn’t ENTIRELY bothered, but he is confused. You talk here and there sure, being a part of the same friend group does that, but there was never and inclination that feelings were reciprocated, nor has there ever been a moment that could lead to, well, the current gossip you're spreading around now (He doesn’t want to this too much about this aspect though). 

Now here he is, sitting down in the common area waiting for you to walk right in (you come in every day at exactly 5:28 to watch a show with Mina! Not that he memorized that or anything) so he can hopefully get an answer out of you. 

As expected, there you are. Trotting down to sit on the couch while holding on to your favorite snack, you brought the smaller bag this time, which means you won't be staying down here for long. Actually, you won't be staying here at all, as Bakugo stands up the moment you two make eye contact. 

“Y/n, we need to talk,” he says, choosing to ignore the slight shake of his voice. The confused look on your face is all he needs to know, as he does his best to keep a calm attitude. Stay cool, Bakugo! The last thing he wants is for you to think that you’re just as much of a nuisance as his other friends.  

“Sure.” Confused as you are, you still walk towards him as he strides slightly away from the couches and into a more private area. This is for his sake only, as you seem unaffected by his cryptic commands.  

An urge to stay calm sits in the back of his head, and he turns to stare into your eyes. 

“Hey.”  

“...hey?” 

FUCK! He thinks - that wasn’t what he planned at all! “Was that too casual? Should I just be straight up? She probably doesn’t even like me, screw it.” 

“Why are you telling people in your baby’s father?” The twitch of his eye goes unnoticed, and only now does he realize that the situation is as stupid as it seems. There's an echo in the hall, adding amplification to the tension. 

You however look at him nonchalantly and shrug your shoulders a bit. 

“I don’t know. Bored as hell.” 

That’s all that comes out of your mouth, and for a split-second Bakugo thinks that maybe you really are a nuisance, or maybe Denki accidentally fried your head, only that can explain this reasoning. 

“That’s it? You’re telling people that because you’re bored?” He gasps as if that explanation isn’t good enough (it really isn’t), but you are undoubtedly you - so the chuckle that escaped your lips is one of obvious reasoning. 

“I mean what am I supposed to do?” It’s as simple as that, really. It comes off as almost factual: the sky is blue, the grass is green, Bakugo is the father to your baby.  

“Study, train, use a different dude for your damned rumors.” His voice is laced with grit, but the faint hue of pink that is laced onto his ears and cheeks is noticed by you.  

“Like you’d let that happen!” You challenge. 

 His voice hitches for a second. He wants to scream at you, say that “Obviously I wouldn’t! That bastard you’d pick wouldn’t even compare to me! Have fun having an ugly baby with whoever comes next!” but all that comes out is a simple scoff, “As if.” 

You just smile, and feign innocence to the fact that you know he’s jealous. He sighs and looks at his shoes for a minute, grumbling something softly. 

“At least let me take you out first.” the words are so faint you swear you’re hallucinating. But the shifting of his body lets you know it isn’t a joke.  

“Really?” A smile is etched onto your face, and that “unbothered” attitude of yours quickly folds, showing your true excitement. 

“Yes really!” he begins abrasively, “If you’re gonna be spewing some of your weirdo stuff, then at least let me go out with you for real. The last thing I want is some more rumors.” The excuse is aggressive and simplified, but it’s good enough for the both of yall.  

A nod of your head is all he needs for approval, and finally, he can breathe. 

“Tomorrow?” You ask softly, as it is now your turn to act coy. 

Theres a hum of approval, and he turns to leave – which is for the best, there’s only so much giddiness two lovers can take. 

“Tomorrow.” 

He walks away. 

“I’m not retracting what I told everyone earlier!” the halls echo, but it’s now a reminder of the turning chapter. 

Check out my masterlist here!

[smystermy]

numero uno

tags: geto suguru x you; university AU; Fluff with a capital F; nerd x nerd dynamics; thunderstorm x sunshine vibes; middle-class!geto x wealthy!mc.

warnings: she/her pronouns have been used for mc.

word count: 1146.

this piece is part of my 'I + U -> LOVE' series, but you can dive in without prior reading! hope you enjoy it—and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs mean a lot! 🥰🥰

● Geto Suguru is sharp.

The kind of smart that makes people second-guess their own intelligence before they even open their mouths. He doesn’t try to intimidate, doesn’t go out of his way to make people feel stupid—but when he speaks, it’s effortless, precise, dangerous. He insults people so casually, so neutrally, that they don’t even realize they’ve been roasted until a few seconds too late. And by then, he’s already moved on, looking as unbothered as ever.

● You’re different.

Warm, easy to talk to—the kind of person people want to be around. But that sweetness? It’s not naivety. You don’t need to raise your voice to make a point, don’t need to push to be heard. You just speak—calm, clear, perfectly measured—and people listen. You don’t argue for the sake of it, but when you do? You dismantle.

● Geto loves that about you.

He’s seen people underestimate you, mistake your kindness for passivity, assume they can interrupt you or explain things you already understand. And every single time, you handle it so smoothly it’s almost cruel. You don’t cut people down—you just make your point so flawlessly that they end up agreeing with you without even realizing it.

● He never steps in. Doesn’t need to.

But if someone interrupts you one too many times? That’s when you’ll hear him, low and lazy, “She wasn’t finished.” And suddenly, the conversation is yours again.

● In class, Geto is either all in—

Questioning, challenging, pushing discussions further—or completely checked out, twirling his pen between his fingers, waiting for something worth his attention. You, though? You’re always focused. Always taking notes so immaculate that people beg you to share them before exams. Professors love you, not just because you’re smart, but because you make the discussions better. And Geto? He enjoys that.

● When you speak, he listens. Really listens.

And when he speaks? He doesn’t just agree. He challenges. Sharpens. Forces you to refine your thoughts. The two of you don’t just talk—you build. Your back-and-forths are effortless, intelligent, engaging in a way that makes the rest of the room fade away.

● Outside of class, you and Geto always end up together.

Not planned, not even acknowledged. It just happens. If you’re in the library, he’s dropping into the chair across from you like it’s his spot. If you’re getting coffee, he’s already in line, giving you an unimpressed look as you order something overly complicated.

“You really need five different adjectives for your drink?”

You just hum, tapping your phone. “Maybe six, if I’m feeling adventurous.”

● Geto repels people effortlessly.

Not because he’s outright rude—he just doesn’t encourage them. He lets conversations die. Flirtation gets met with a smirk and nothing back. Eventually, people take the hint.

● You, though? You attract people without even trying.

Someone is always hovering near you, asking for your notes, inviting you to things, trying to get your attention.

● And Geto hates it.

He won’t say it, won’t admit it, but you know. You see it in the way his fingers drum against the table when someone lingers too long. The way his jaw tenses when someone tries to flirt with you. Once, some guy was really laying it on thick, and Geto just exhaled—long, slow, suffering.

“This is excruciating.”

When you turned to him, amused, he just shrugged. “He’s annoying.”

● Your debates have practically become a campus event at this point.

The two of you don’t just argue—you spar. Quick, intelligent back-and-forths that have the entire room hanging onto every word. No hostility, no personal jabs—just a challenge so electric that even the professor stops to watch. No one else even tries to get involved anymore. They know better.

● Group projects? A nightmare—

For everyone except the two of you. Geto hates them, mostly because they force him to work with people who, in his words, “should not be allowed to contribute ideas.” The only reason he tolerates them is because you’re there. And honestly? You both end up doing most of the work anyway. You don’t even have to discuss it. You organize, he executes, and the rest of the group just… exists.

● Your backgrounds are obvious, but it’s never weird.

Geto comes from a comfortable but middle-class family—nothing extravagant, but nothing unstable either. You, on the other hand, come from money. And it shows. The way you dress, the way you never hesitate before buying something, the fact that you’ve never had to budget. But you don’t flaunt it, and Geto doesn’t care. If anything, he finds it funny how unaware you are sometimes.

“You don’t know how much a bus ticket costs?” he asks once, amused.

You blink. “Am I supposed to?”

He just shakes his head, laughing.

● Neither of you say how much you care, but it’s obvious.

If you’re tired, he slides his notes toward you without a word. If he forgets to eat, you push something off your plate onto his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. If someone interrupts you, he shuts them down immediately. If he’s overthinking something, you don’t push—you just sit next to him until he decides to talk.

It’s not something you discuss. It just is.

● People have theories.

Are they dating? Are they rivals? Are they just weirdly close friends?

Someone finally asks, and Geto just smirks. “What do you think?”

You just smile, offering no explanation.

No one ever gets a straight answer. But if they watch—the way Geto’s gaze lingers, the way you adjust his collar without thinking, the way neither of you are ever in the same room without ending up next to each other—they already know.

bonus:

● Geto's appearance is the perfect blend of casual and cool, like he knows exactly how to show up looking good without breaking a sweat.

His hair is usually tied back in that perfect, messy bun—loose enough to look laid-back, but just neat enough to give off the vibe that he’s thought it through. It’s the kind of “messy” that feels very on purpose. His glasses add a bit of that intellectual edge, with sleek rectangular frames that make him look like he’s always got a million things running through his mind.

As for his clothes, he doesn’t go for anything too flashy—no bright colors or crazy patterns—but you’ll never catch him in just plain solid colors. He tends to gravitate toward darker shades, with subtle stripes or soft checks that add texture without drawing too much attention. His outfits are often a little looser, hanging just enough off his frame to look effortlessly comfortable. They’re not too tight, nor too baggy—just the right amount of relaxed fit.

His style’s all about looking polished but in a low-key way, like he didn’t try at all but still somehow manages to stand out.

please comment on this post, or send me an ask, to be added to the taglist!! 🤗💖

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eleven

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter might be extremely triggering to some readers. I struggle with panic attacks and designed this chapter to emulate what I go through when I experience one. It also implies a history of abuse. If you wish to skip that particular section but still want to read, there will be a warning before and a note of where to pick up after.

Another short one before things get good!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

Content Warning: Minors DNI! Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Panic Attack

“Here, drink this,” Angel handed you a cup as you sat up in bed. “It’ll help.”

You brought the smokey liquid to your lips, it burned on the way down. He had given you a glass of straight whiskey. You welcomed the pain, it helped ground you. 

“What happened?” He wiped the hair sticking to your face. 

You sniffed, looking down at the glass. You had spent the entire night crying and when it was over you didn’t feel like talking much. So, Angel grabbed his laptop and the two of you watched a movie in bed.

Now it was morning - time to face the elephant in the room.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me,” he sat back on the bed, leaning against one of the wooden pillars. 

You told him everything, and when you were done, all he could do was stare at you. 

“So, let me get this straight. You kissed Alastor?” His jaw dropped. “Yous was right. I don’t believe ya’."

“I just told you I was an Angel tasked with hunting down Eve on Earth for the past hundred years and that’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“Well, yeah? I don’t give a shit about that. Frankly, it explains a lot. But you’re in Hell, kid. There ain’t a pure soul down here. Fuck, Alastor murdered people for a livin’ and then ate ‘em. I really don’t think he’d care that ya’ were some big and important Angel who ditched Heaven for a vacation in Hell. Lucifer literally did the same fuckin’ thang.” 

“That’s not the part I’m worried about. The kind of power I have isn’t acquired by a soul deal. I don’t really have one like Human Sinners do.” You breathed. “The power I have you take through death.”

“Ooooooh, you’re worried he’s gonna try to kill ya’.” Angel finished for you. 

You told him about Carmilla and how Velvette was able to do that much damage to you. “If he knew how easy it would be to take what I have...”

You didn’t tell Angel about the tattoo, about what you took from Eve when you found her, because you did find her. That would be too much even for Angel to handle. Rosie went an entire week thinking you were yanking her chain before she finally realized you were serious. 

“Wait, why are you at the Hotel?” 

“I don’t even know anymore…” you covered your face in your hands. 

“Wow,” Angel gawked. “This is like a fucking Soap Opera.” 

“What have I done, Angel?” You sniffed. “I shoulda just gone back to the Seraphim and told her what happened. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“Or you’d be dead,” Angel pointed out. “From what it sounds like, Heaven isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re fucked up too.” 

“Yeah…” you wiped your eyes. 

“You should tell him.”

“What!?” 

“I know how this is going to go. You’re gonna go down there and torture yourself the entire time Lucifer is visitin’. Ya’ gonna do everything you can to avoid him - barely even look at 'em. And for what? Because he may or may not reject you after knowing the truth? Ya' don’t know what he’s gonna do, dollface. Unless you tell him. He tries to kill you afterward, then ya' have your answer, but at least you aren’t torturin' yourself in fuckin’ limbo with the whole ‘will he, won’t he’ bullshit!” 

He’s right. 

“I’m right, and you know it.”

Fucker.

“When is Lucifer do?” 

Angel checked his phone. “Any minute.”

“Fuck,” you jumped up from your bed and ran for the door, completely ignoring the fact that you looked like a mess and wearing the same clothes as yesterday...

“Wait! You're doin’ this right now!?” Angel called after you. 

“You’re right! Besides, if Lucifer recognizes me, it’s game over. Better Alastor hear it from me beforehand.” You fly to the foyer - static licking down your spine - making it halfway down the stairs before Lucifer’s voice finds you. 

“Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever!

“Ha, ha! Fuck you.”

Oh, no! He was already here!

Charlie jumps in between the two of them. “Okay! Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much. See…” 

Charlie spins him about until they see you descending from the stairs. You give an awkward wave, your feet finding the wood floor. 

“Oh, oh! Dad!” Charlie shoves the King of Hell across the floor. He comes to a stop directly in front of you. “This is Thestral, one of our newest and most promising guests.”

Please, please work. You subconsciously rub the black ink on your left forearm, hidden beneath your red sweater. 

“Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” You hold out your hand. 

He gives you a confused look, his eyes scanning your form. “Do I know you?” 

You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “No. No. I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered meeting the King of Hell, after all.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Right,” he finally shakes your hand. Alastor comes to stand directly next to Charlie, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the King of Hell. He narrows his eyes at him. 

Lucifer is exactly as you remembered him. God, what had it been? Ten thousand years? Who even keeps track of time anymore... Yet, Lucifer hadn't changed a bit. Falling from Heaven hadn't even left a mark...

Your heart panged in your chest.

“Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?” Lucifer awkwardly laughs. 

Charlie pulls him away to Vaggie next. 

He didn’t recognize you! Your heart sinks. He didn’t recognize you…

Alastor comes to stand next to you, his eyes following Lucifer around the room. The Radio Demon’s static prickles your skin. He’s irritated - at you or Lucifer or both. 

“I didn’t realize how much Charlie looks like him…” You mumble. “I mean, I knew, but didn’t really know…”

Alastor side-eyes you, his demeanor that of the infamous Radio Demon. You tried hard not to picture him as his brown-haired, tan-skinned self. You tried not to picture the look on his face the moment the mask slammed back into place. You tried and failed...

“Looks like you could use some help…” Lucifer starts. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor gives you a short bow before jumping into the fray. 

You watched the chaos from the sidelines, Angel joining you moments later. A small giggle escaped you when Alastor dropped the piano on Lucifer. 

His eyes found yours for a beat before he jumped into a piano duet with Lucifer’s violin. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met, his smile faltering but a moment, before his mask slipped back into place. 

God, why did your heart hurt so bad?

“You okay?” Angel put a hand on your shoulder. You could feel Husk shooting questioning glances at you from across the room as he helped Sir Pentious up from the floor. How long had he been passed out?

Fuck, you were probably going to have to catch Husk up after all this. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

You debated turning around and marching yourself right back to your room. Maybe hide until Lucifer finally leaves, and then you could talk to Alastor? It was probably best. Your presence here would just make things worse - especially considering how pissed off Alastor already was. 

If you asked Angel to hide you away in his room for the rest of the day he’d do it in a heartbeat. You could build a cocoon on his bed and watch old movies together. Fat Nuggets could cuddle and fall asleep in your lap. Did you have any lemon tarts left, you think? Or had Angel snuck into your room and finished them off while you were gone? You hoped he had - or at least hoped Nifty threw them away (even if it meant her trespassing yet again). They were most likely bad by now. 

You turned, debating asking Angel, but he looked so intrigued with the King of Hell you thought better of it. Not every day Royalty stays at the Hotel. 

You were better off alone right now anyway. 

“Mimzy!” Alastor cheered, he opened his arms for a hug. 

Shit! You took a step behind Angel, praying the club owner hadn’t seen you. 

She chatted with Alastor and Charlie. While she was distracted, you inched your way to the stairs…

“You! Don’t you move!” She used her angry voice. Angel took a big side step out of the way, clearly afraid of the small demon. Traitor…

She grabbed you by the ear and pulled you down to her level. You winced against the pain in your torso. “Where the fuck have you been!?”

“Mimzy,” Alastor warned, his eyes narrowing at the tiny demon. “We talked about this.”

His static prickled your skin, his green aura beginning to fill the room.

“No!” She waved her finger at him. “I wanna hear it from the dame, well?” She turned to you, her eyes shooting daggers.

“Mimzy, I…” you started, but words weren’t coming to you. Everyone was looking at you. It was too much. 

“Well, hello there!” Lucifer took a step in front of Mimzy, cutting her off from Alastor. 

“Oh, my stars! Are you Lucifer?” She dropped her hold on your ear. “Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.” She curtsied and then turned to the Radio Demon. “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.” 

“Charmed. I’m sure,” Lucifer gave a pained smile.

Alastor butts in, “As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue.” 

Lucifer grabs onto his daughter, “I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around.

“Nonsense!” The Radio Demon grabs Charlie and drags her forward. “We started the hotel together, and we'll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

“Oh, right!” 

This was so painful to watch. 

Alastor turns to Mimzy, “Why don't you let the others help you settle in, and I'll be back before you know it!” 

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Finally, you could breathe. 

The others gathered at the bar to hear Mimzy gab about Alastor, but you had had enough of the Radio Demon for one day. Everything was a mess, but it couldn’t be solved until after Lucifer left. Which would probably be a while. Instead, you turned and headed for the music room on the other side of the hotel. 

You needed something to do. Hiding in your room would probably just make you stir crazy - plus, all you would do was panic. You debated going for a flight around the City, but you didn’t know how your muscles would hold up in your torso during the flight. You were healing, slowly but still healing. If you ripped something, you’d have to run all the way across town to Rosie, and you were not about to go asking for a chastisement, that’s for sure.

So you turned and headed for the piano room. You grabbed a random piece of music - something you’d played a hundred times - and began to play softly. 

You played for what felt like hours, just letting your mind go numb, your thoughts only on the music. And then you felt eyes on you. Not the prickle of static, so it wasn’t Alastor or Rolf. You spun and met Lucifer’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he waved anxiously. “I just… I snuck away and heard you playing and was curious.” 

“You snuck away?” You scrunched your nose. 

“Yeah, yeah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That Hotel Manager is…”

“A lot,” you finished for him. 

“I was going to say insane, but you put it much nicer,” he gripped his cane. 

He looked like he didn’t want to leave, but didn’t have a reason to stay. If anyone knew how much Alastor could be, it was you. 

“You play, correct?” You asked, waiving him over. 

“Yeah, how did you…”

“There’s this duet I’ve been wanting to try for so long,” you pulled a book of music out from the bench. “Do you mind?” 

His smile was one of joy and relief. “Not at all.”

You lined the music sheets on the piano, quickly pointing out the trickier parts. You focused on some of the harder parts, playing out a few measures, before finally turning to the beginning. 

“Ready?” You beamed.

He nodded and away you played. Franz Schubert’s Fantasia was a twenty minute song, but you only focused on the first movement, which was only four. It was an intense piece, with very strong emotion and parts which could get quite loud and others so quiet your fingers barely touched the keys at all. 

Hell, it was fun. You found yourselves laughing partway through it, especially when you got so into it you bumped heads together. 

When was the last time you and Lucifer did something like this? When was the last time you heard his laugh or saw him smile? Lucifer had been gone from Hell longer than you could remember him being a part of it.

The memories you two shared… You missed him.

You finished the movement and jumped when a crowd of clapping echoed behind you. The Hotel Natives were all standing in the doorway. Everyone was there - including Alastor, but he wasn’t clapping. 

“That was amazing!” Charlie jumped, bringing the two of you into a hug. 

Your face heated from the attention, but your eyes didn’t leave Alastor’s. 

He was livid. Or wait... You followed his line of sight, which you had assumed was on you, but you were wrong. It was on Lucifer.

"...jealousy is not an emotion I am accustomed to..."

God, he doesn't know...

Mimzy stomped up and grabbed you by the ear again, stopping your train of thought. “I expect you back at the club this weekend!” 

BOOM! The entirety of the Hotel shook.

“Que carajo!” Vaggie groans as the crew heads for the lobby. 

You hesitated, knowing Alastor was never one to run headfirst into a fight. The demon made eye contact with you, but it wasn't anger you necessarily saw. It was suspicion. You swore, however, as he melted into shadow, you smelled a hint of vinegar wafting off the demon - hurt.

Alastor was hurting...

____________________________________________

You hadn’t seen Alastor in days and as everyone waited to hear back from Lucifer, the Hotel returned to its usual order of operations. The only solace in knowing he was alive were the screams playing continuously on the radio. 

The demon was on a rampage.

You got up, made everyone coffee for breakfast, went through a new round of trust exercises put on by Charlie, played at the club in the late afternoon, and ended the day with a drink at the bar with the boys before finding the library with a good book.

You eventually had to fill in Husk. It wasn’t fair that Angel knew everything, but Husk only had half the story. For Husk, he had known you were in Hell a lot longer than 6 years, but he kept quiet. The bar cat knows how to keep his nose clean.

After you explained everything, he confessed to Angel that he knew you from long ago when he was an Overlord. You originally used Husk as an ally in the early stages before you "fell." He was a contact for you and Eve, someone to trust (to whatever degree that might have been) once your plans turned more south - to Hell. You were supposed to link up with him 6 years ago, but come to find out, he had fallen from power. You were pointed in Rosie's direction by someone you hesitate to call an ally - let's just say partner.

The Vees had gone quiet after the attack. You didn’t know if they were in mourning or if they were planning something big. Either way, the silence couldn’t be good. Perhaps Vox finally got the hint that you weren’t interested?

At about day five Rosie removed the stitches. You didn’t talk much at the visit even though she knew something was wrong. You just didn’t have the heart to hash it out all over again while she sat there and smiled and told you everything was going to be alright. You didn’t need the false hope. 

The truth was you felt hollow, like a shell of yourself. The boys did their best to cheer you up, but it was no substitute for what your heart needed. Night after night you couldn’t sleep, the silence of the hotel deafening. You couldn’t find a record table. You didn’t dare turn on the radio. No way were you going to buy anything else electronic or another phone - Vox didn’t need easy access to your life. So, the bags under your eyes deepened, your anxiety festered more and more, and your drinking became more frequent. 

Eventually, you gave up the wine and switched to whiskey - the burn giving you something to feel other than numb. 

God, how had you let him work his way so far into your soul (if Angels had a soul)? When had he become someone you relied on to live your everyday life? Why did it feel like a part of you had died when Alastor left? 

Day seven, Angel and Husk held an intervention. 

“Alright, kid,” Husk slammed the whiskey bottle down on the table in front of you. “This has to stop. I can’t keep watching you kill yourself over someone who doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Husk…” you started to protest when a portal opened up behind you. 

Lucifer stepped through, a worried look across his face.

“Hey…. Guys…” Oh, so cringey. “Is Charlie here?” 

The three of you pointed simultaneously. The King awkwardly shuffled into Charlie’s office. 

A few moments later, you heard a scream of glee and a flurry of thank-yous. It sounds like Charlie got her meeting. 

“He isn’t worth it, kid,” Husk continued. 

Irritation prickled the back of your neck. You did not want to hear this right now. You didn’t want to hear this ever. You’ve been avoiding any conversation about it all week with either Husk or Angel. They had tried, naturally, but you’ve managed to blow them off every time. Not anymore. This had to stop. 

“Husk, I am sick and tired of the two of you constantly lecturing me,” you pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, the flames beneath your skin threatening to break through. A spark of static danced its way down your spine. 

“We are just trying to look out for you…”

“Well, don’t!” You snapped, the flames surfacing. “I don’t need to be babied all the time. I’m a fucking Overlord for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be looked after, let alone babysat by a has-been at rock bottom, who was dumb enough to gamble away all his power in a game of cards!” 

Husk blinked, not entirely listening to your rant, his eyes fixated on your arms. You followed his gaze downwards to the flames dancing across your skin. 

Green, your flames were green. 

“Is that…?” Angel started. 

“Alastor’s Hellfire.” 

You held your hand out and concentrated the flames in the palm of your hand, watching as the green danced amongst your fingers. It felt… warm. Not like the heat of fire, but warm like Alastor’s shadow. A small buzz of static creeped across your palm where the flames met your skin, the same way it dances down your spine whenever he enters a room, whenever you feel his presence nearing yours. 

What was happening? 

“How are you doing that?” Husk breathed. 

Your mind flashed back to New Orleans, to the kiss you shared on the dance floor, to the flames that practically burned the establishment to the ground. Then to Alastor's apartment when you combined your power to destroy the cellphone. In that moment you felt a bond connect between you and Alastor stronger than any soul contract you had ever made. Did that have something to do with what was happening with your magic now?

“I don’t know.” You extinguish the flame, your mind flitting through a million explanations. “Husk…” You were too afraid to ask the question. “Have you ever heard of Sinners being able to share their magic with another?”

The cat demon thought a moment before shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot of things, kid, but that isn’t one of them.” 

You turned to Angel.

"Don't look at me, I ain't know shit about nothin'."

Out of curiosity, you held your hand out again, summoning flame - yet this time, it was blue. How strange… If you somehow had access to his power did that mean he had access to yours? Panic sparked within your core at the thought. 

Did he have access to the well of magic you stole from Eve?

“Thanks, Dad!” Charlie’s voice echoed throughout the foyer. The Princess led her girlfriend and Lucifer to the bar, practically bouncing on her toes as she informed you of the good news. “We have a meeting with Heaven!” 

You did your best to muster a smile, pushing down the wave of emotions washing over you. Trying not to make too much eye contact with Lucifer, you hugged the Princess, wishing her luck. Despite everything, your master plan was still moving forward. All that was left was for the Princess’ plans to be utterly rejected by the Holy Court, and then your direct manipulation could begin.

This was great! This was… great? If it was great, why did you still feel so low? Why did your heart still hurt? 

Charlie bounced back, twirling amongst the group as she screamed in glee before listing off a million things she was going to pack for the trip. “And you’re coming with me!” She scooped Vaggie into a hug. The ex-Exorcist did not look pleased. Perhaps the Princess didn’t know of her girlfriend’s origins, for she definitely would not have asked her to come along if she had. 

"Knock, knock!"

Holy fucking shit.

"Anybody home?" A familiar voice rang out.

The entire party turned to find Vox, striding through the doors, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a cellphone in the other.

Holy shit this guy SERIOUSLY can’t take a hint.

Husk and Angel both moved in front of you, blocking Vox’s view.

“Vox, what are you doing here?” Vaggie pulled out her spear, closing the distance before Vox got too close. The ever protective girlfriend held the point to his throat, but the media demon was unphased.

“Ah, who are you again?” The media demon nonchalantly raised an eyebrow.

“Vaggie!” Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just here for an update on Thestral.”

“What!?” Angel and Husk both choked out at the same time.

“Yeah…” Charlie awkwardly smiled. “He’s been stopping by… Didn’t I tell you guys…?”

“I thinks I woulda remembered somethin’ like that, toots,” Angel spat.

“Oh…” Charlie cringed.

Yeah, “forgot.” Sure, Princess. Fuck, what has she been telling him? What does Vox know!?

“Oh!” Nifty appeared at the base of Vox’s boots. “A bad boy!”

The media demon took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the small demon’s gaze. Vaggie picked her up and pulled her aside.

“Charlie, is this one of your friends?” Lucifer slides himself into the conversation.

Vox’s jaw drops. “Oh, my god! You’re him! You’re the Lucifer!”

“Well,” Lucifer brushed invisible dirt off his shoulder. “I don’t mean to brag but yes, it is I, you’re humble King.”

Vox sure knows how to captivate an audience and Lucifer was playing right into the palm of his hand.

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies, at your service sir,” the media demon shakes Lucifer’s hand. “I must say, you are even more handsome in person.”

“Ouch!” Electricity zaps the King’s arm, causing him to flinch away. “Ha, ha, you flatter me…”

“Not at all! I believe you’re in the running for one of Hell’s most eligible bachelors?” The media demon winked. “Check your phone.”

The King pulled out his cellphone - complete with a rubber duck charm - which Vox zapped, sending the screen straight to a news article. The King was so entranced with what was written that he forgot the situation completely.

Why did Vox and Lucifer have to get along!?

“What the fuck?” Angel pulled out his phone and started flipping through news sources to hunt down whatever the fuck Vox was talking about. “Oh, shit it’s all over Vitter!*”

Oh, Angel and gossip...

The spider demon tried to show you his phone but you shooed him away.

Priorities, Angel!

“Actually, Vox,” Charlie smiles, her hands behind her back. “You’ve come on a good day because Thestral is…”

“No way!” Husk closes the distance, leaving Angel still guarding your side. The cat demon crosses his arms over his chest, shooting Vox a death glare. “He needs to go, now.”

“Well hello there little pet, where’s your master?”

“Like Hell I would tell you anything!”

“So he’s still making chaos in the Doomsday District then?” Vox prods but Husk says nothing.

“Well then,” Vox readjusts his suit. “That answers that question. On to more pressing, business. Where is she?”

“You aren’t going anywhere near her,” he threatens. The bartender wasn’t backing down, if anything he sized the media demon up, as if weighing his options. Fuck, you didn’t know what Husk was still capable of but you didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, down kitty.” Little sparks of electricity shoot out of Vox’s antenna.

“Hey! Don’t call me a kitty, you fu-“

“Husk,” you interrupt him. Emerging from behind your protective wall of white and pink fluff, you coax the bartender away from Vox. “It’s okay. I can take it from here,” you squeeze the demon’s paw before turning to Vox.

Mustering your most sincere smile, you say to the demon, “Hey Vox.”

“Babe! You look great! These are for you!” He thrusts the flowers into your hands

Blue Forget-Me-Knots, how original.

“What are you doing here?” You tried not to sound annoyed, you really did, but acting was Angel’s strong suit not yours. Hell, you’ve become a fantastic liar but keeping your feelings contained was a whole other battle.

“To check-in. I haven’t been able to get ahold of you and you getting hurt was my fault so…”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Your fault?”

“Yeah,” the demon’s gaze met the floor. “Charlie said you were on your way to V Tower to see me when the attack happened.”

You side glanced the Princess whose face was turning pink. What exactly had Husk and Angel told her happened?

“Anyway, I just…” The demon rubbed his neck and huffed. “Here!” Vox pulled out two things: a new phone and a watch.

Oh, here we go again.

“As an apology. Voxtek’s latest and greatest!” The demon posed with the electronics.

“Holy shit! Is that the new VWatch?” Angel asked. “That thang ain’t even out on the market yet!”

You shot him an exasperated look. Which team are you on, Angel?

Vox took your hand in his, fastening the watch around your wrist. “I’ve already connected it to your phone!” The demon turned both screens on. A notification flashed between the two of them to show you they had connected.

“Yay,” You feigned joy. Say whatever you have to say to get him out of here.

The second he leaves this is gone. No fucking way were you giving him the ability to track you so easily. The voice in the back of your head was screaming danger! danger! danger!

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe,” The demon pinched your cheek, rather hard actually. “Oh, would you look at the time!” Vox checked his phone. “I’m afraid I have somewhere to be but,” He smiled at you, winking. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hopefully not too soon… Actually, hopefully never.

“Okay.” Was all you could say. Go home. Go home. Go home!

“Text me!” He laughed as he headed for the doors. “Your majesty,” the demon bowed before disappearing.

That was weird. He wasn’t mad you went AWOL for two weeks? He didn’t even ask for an explanation!? Wait, did he think the two of you were dating!? No. No. No! Uh, no! You are not dating Vox! Hell - to the fuck - no!

What in the fuck did Charlie tell him!? Was ghosting this guy not enough to send a message? Did the Princess say something to get his hopes up? Did he assume everything was good between the two of you, that you wanted this!?

As soon as the door shut you turned to Charlie, who was now hiding behind Vaggie. Irritation bubbled beneath your skin as the Princess smiled sheepishly at you. The flowers catching fire made everyone jump back. You didn’t care anymore. Who the fuck cares anymore!?

“What did you do?”

____________________________________________

Vox dials his phone as he nonchalantly heads down the street.

“Is everything in place?” The media demon asks.

“Yes, boss. The bitch won’t know what hit her.” A male voice answers.

Vox chuckles, his one eye turning red, “Good. Good. Let the massacre begin.”

____________________________________________

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

Cellphones across the room chimed out in chorus, including your’s and your watch.

The spider demon looked at his phone, pure panic forming on his face.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Your heart sank. 

“Oh, toots. You’re gonna wanna see this.” He turned the pink phone towards you to reveal an alert. 

Velvette posted a video on her Sinstagram and Vox sent a notification out for everyone to see it. 

Angel pressed play. 

Velvette’s cackle was iconic, as she picked up the phone. The front facing camera was on, so you couldn’t see her face, just the floor of V Tower now newly constructed. Her skipping stopped before the camera turned back around to her. 

“Hello, Pentagram City!” She sang. “It’s Velvette here coming to you from the top of the newly restored V Tower, and I have a little friend here who wants to say hello to everyone!” She turns the camera back around, and the sight nearly knocks you off your feet.

It was Alastor, bloodied and bruised, tied to a metal chair.

This was impossible. Alastor couldn’t be captured on any recording devices or cameras. Which meant Velvette and Vox had weakened him a great deal. Where the fuck was Rolf? Why hadn’t he come and found you!? 

“Say hello, Radio Demon.” Velvette cackled, but Alastor didn’t move. Alastor didn’t move!

Alastor was significantly more powerful than this. How in the Hell did they capture him!? 

The camera turned back around to Velvette. “Your boy toy is waiting for you, Shadow. Come and get 'em!” 

The video ended. 

And you screamed. 

Tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. Angel grabbed you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Husk breathed. 

Rosie told you there were bystanders. She told you people saw. Alastor must have missed one or something or… or… Then that means… 

“She… she… she…” you couldn’t form words. “She figured out Alastor was the one who saved me after I killed Valentino.” Your voice broke as you collapsed into the spider demon in a heap of sobs. “I have to go.”

“No way, Hair clip.” Angel protested. “It’s clearly a trap.” 

“They’re going to kill him, Angel!” You practically screamed as your entire body shook, anxiety bubbled in your chest, your power surging as it fed off your anxious energy. 

“I know, toots. I know.” 

“She knows I’m an Angel.” You looked at the two of them, desperately scanning their faces for answers.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” You grabbed at your hair, the blue flames threatening to break through. “If I hadn’t killed Valentino, Alastor wouldn’t have needed to save me. But I had to because Valentino almost killed you because I killed Travis.” Green static ran across your arms. 

Angel jumped back, some of the electricity zapping him. 

“If I hadn’t become the Shadow, I wouldn’t have killed Travis, and the Vees wouldn’t have gone after Alastor.”

____________(Trigger warning)_______________

You fell to your knees the entire world spinning out of control. You felt it then, that well of power deep within you that you’ve been keeping contained for the past six years. It threatened to break through, begged to break through. You were hyperventilating now, desperately trying to push that well of power down as your panic only seemed to build. 

This was your fault. Alastor was going to die because of you. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you could have seen this coming. You did nothing about the Crim situation after learning about it and did nothing to stop Velvette from buying weapons from Carmilla Carmine. You didn’t monitor the Vees after you killed Valentino to see if they were planning any attacks of revenge. 

You did nothing! You are useless! You have always been useless! Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you see these things coming? You’re worthless! A pathetic excuse for a soldier! You are a disappointment to your name! A disappointment to your father! All the years of effort, all the years of training for nothing!  

Why are you still even here!? Why are you still even trying!? You’re a failure. A miserable failure in everything that you do! And now someone you care about was going to die because of you. Because you are weak! 

“No, stop it!” You screamed, clamping your hands down over your eyes. 

Stop? Stop!? You wouldn’t have to stop anything if you had just listened! Tried harder! Actually succeeded! 

A tornado of blues and greens exploded from you, plunging your world into a sea of colors. The magic spun around you, whipping your hair about your face and blocking your view of the room. 

Alastor’s dead because of you. You can’t take that back. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

Somewhere, a high-pitched voice screamed. Or was it you screaming? It was hard to tell. The voices in your head had become too loud to hear anything else.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry! Please make it stop!”

Stop? stoP? StOp? STop? STOP? 

“Please, Dad, stop!” You screamed. 

You could hear his laugh clear as day as the voices inside your head merged into one, “Stop?”

You curled into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. 

“You’re such a disappointment, do you know that?” His voice echoed around you, swirling with the winds and colors engulfing your small form.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” you sob. “Please!” A throb in your chest. That well of power was still there, still trying to take advantage and breakthrough. 

“You’re pathetic. Lying there, groveling like an insolent child. No one will ever love you, you know. No one will ever care.”

Throb, push, pull. The power was trying to undo the knots, trying to take advantage to slip out. 

“It was a mistake to create you.” 

“I was a mistake,” you repeated. 

“No!” A voice screamed, cutting through the wind and the voices. “You are not a mistake!” 

Charlie? 

“You are not a mistake, Thestral!” You opened your eyes to find Charlie fighting against the hurricane of colors. The Princess was pushing against the wind; her hair had escaped her braid. One hand held in front of her, the other reaching out for you, she slowly trudged her way forward. 

“You are wrong!” She screamed. “You are not a mistake, and you are loved! We love you, Thestral!” 

What?

“Me, Husk, Angel, Nifty, Pentious, even Vaggie. We love you!” The Princess fell to her knees before you. “We are your family now, Thestral, and we love you.” Her hands found yours. “And we will always be here for you, no matter what!” 

You sat up a bit to meet the Princess’ eyeline. She smiled softly at you despite the chaos around. “You are not a mistake. You are loved.” She leaned in, emphasizing every word. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s not your fault. 

“It’s not my fault,” you repeated. 

The winds began to die down around you, the colors fading away, the voices silencing. 

Until it was just you and Charlie lying on the Hotel floor. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated before bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back, her warmth, her touch, her weight, a calming presence around you. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

____________________________________________

(Pick up here if you skipped the earlier section)

____________________________________________

“Uhhhh,” Angel peered his head up from behind the couch. “Can someone please explain to me how I’m not dead?” 

You continued to breathe as Charlie held you on the floor. She did her best to fix your hair as you spoke. “Oh, my God, I’m so…”

“Don’t,” Charlie stopped you. With a hand on either cheek, she forced you to look at her. “Don’t apologize.” You had never seen her so serious. “You’re scared. We all are.” 

You nod. 

“Is everyone okay?” She asked the room.

Everyone checked in. Including Lucifer. 

“Yup! All the magical colors just make me want to throw up a bit!” The King gagged. 

Ew.

“Okay, team. What’s the plan?” Charlie stood, radiating determination. 

“Uhm, pardon me?” Angel threw himself over the couch. 

“The plan to get Alastor back.” 

“What?” Vaggie grabbed Charlie by the jacket, making as if to shake some sense into her. “You are not going up against Vox and Velvette. No way!” 

“Vaggie,” the Princess protested. “Alastor is in trouble. We have to get him back.” 

We?

“Uhm, excuse me, ‘we’?” Lucifer blinked. 

“Yes,” Charlie stood tall. “We. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. We wouldn’t have this Hotel without him. He’s defended it more times than you can count.” 

“I don’t owe the prick anything.” Lucifer stepped in. 

“Dad,” Charlie approached him warily. “Well… How do I put this lightly… After Mom left, you kind of did too.” 

“You completely abandoned her,” Vaggie muttered. 

Lucifer looked away, his arms crossed. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, Alastor was there for me when you weren’t. He’s helped take care of me - in a very demonic way - but he did what he did because he cares about me and this Hotel. If the situation was reversed and I asked him, he would help.” Charlie’s smile turned down to a fine line. “I’m asking, as your daughter. Please, help us.” She reached a hand out for him. 

Lucifer eventually melted, taking her hand in his. He nodded, before Charlie whipped back around to face you. “Okay! What do you need from us?” 

You dried your eyes. “Us?” You repeated, meeting the faces of everyone around you. 

They all looked… determined. Well, except for Nifty, she looked bloodthirsty and downright demonic. 

They were going to fight with you.

A feeling sparked in your chest, one which was new to you but second nature to Human Sinners: pride.

Mere months ago you came to this hotel with a plan to befriend the Princess and her crew. You needed to weasel your way into her world, earn their sympathy, gain their devotion. It was a ploy of manipulation. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here for power and chaos, nothing more.

That was the plan, right?

Yet, somewhere along the way, they found a way into your world, had earned your sympathy, gained your devotion. Rosie once told you that you never let anyone in and those that found a way past your wall terrified you. Here, now, surrounded by those you genuinely considered friends, you weren’t afraid…

You felt powerful.

You smiled softly, trying to corral the overwhelming swell of emotion within you. You summoned magic in your other hand, the green static jumping across your skin: Alastor’s magic. You could feel him, feel his breath, his heart beating at the other end of the connection as real and as strong as your own.

No more running.

You tried to push a little bit of your magic through the connection, as if to say “Hold on, Alastor. We’re coming.”

You turned to the group. “Before we get started, there are some things you need to know…”

Last short transition chapter before stuff get’s good!

*The competition for the most eligible bachelor in Hell actually happened on Twitter, but I'm pretty sure it was "hottest in Hell" or something like that. It involved legit bribery and scandals, but in the end, Vox won - because, of course, he did.

-> Chapter Twelve

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[avocad1s]

Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Chapter Summary: You learn of recent events that occurred in Teyvat and Lumine and Nahida search for your whereabouts.

Characters Mentioned: Nahida, Lumine, and some other surprises

Note: Part one did way better than I was expecting, thanks so much for all of the love on it :>

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You’ve been warned. Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Part One Part Two (You are here!) Part Three

This is partly beta read but it’s also the middle of the night and I’m half sleep so… yeah :)

At the same time, in another nation.

Despite not being the God of Wisdom, Morax, going by the name Zhongli now, would consider himself intelligent.

Yet this was the first time in centuries that he had felt this conflicted.

When his God first returned he was overjoyed, finally he would be able to talk with them again. Yet that feeling of ecstasy didn’t last long, soon he noticed something odd about their behavior.

At first he brushed it off, The Divine One was gone for a while and maybe during their journey the activities they used to enjoy didn’t make them happy anymore. Yet it was as if their entire personality had changed and he couldn’t help the feeling that kept growing in the back of his mind.

Doubt.

If anyone else knew about this, he knows for a fact he would be replaced and possibly killed by The Divine One themselves. So he pushed this feeling down, pretending that nothing was amiss for as long as he could.

Well until he decided to vacate his duties as the Geo Archon.

With the help of the Traveler he had planned his own funeral, and right after, he gave his Gnosis to the Fatui.

Even though the Traveler has questioned why he had given away his Gnosis to the nefarious group, she quickly let it go once Zhongli had explained the contract they had made. Despite not knowing the true details of the contract.

-

“So in exchange, you want my Gnosis?”

“Indeed. I think that’s a fair exchange, don’t you?”

“I agree… I accept the terms of this contract…”

“If things go as planned I will send one of my Harbingers to collect your Gnosis, Morax.”

-

Zhongli shakes his head clearing his mind of the conversation he had with the Tsaritsa in the past. He sips his tea mindlessly listening to his boss go on about another two for one deal she had thought of.

In Sumeru

“Where could they have run off to?” Paimon groans, “Paimon is getting super tired.”

“You don’t even walk, you float.” Lumine retorts a deadpan look on her face.

The fairy scoffs, “floating gets tiresome too you know!”

Lumine decides not to respond to Paimons defense on being tired, instead she looks down at Nahida who was walking closely next to her.

“Hey Nahida…” Lumine begins. “When you said you had your own suspicions, what did you mean?”

The Dendro Archon’s steps falter, “Traveler I have a lot of trust in you. You saved me from the Sages and done so much more for Sumeru and because of this I’ll tell you.”

Lumine stops walking putting her full attention on her. Paimon, who was just as curious, stops as well.

“Not long after you saved me and I noticed I had missed the descent of The Creator, I went into Irminsul to see what memories there was of them so I knew more about them.”

“Wait, Irminsul has memories of The Creator?” Paimon gasps.

Nahida nods, “Yes, The Creator is the one who made Teyvat after all. Anyways-“ The Archon brings her hand up to her chin, “All of the memories Irminsul had were complete contradictions to how they are now. The only thing that is the same is how they look.”

Lumine’s eyes widen, “so do you think… that the one we’re looking for is the true Creator?”

The girl let’s out a sigh, “Truthfully, I want to talk to them and get a read on them myself. There is a possibility they are the true God .”

“Does anyone else know about this? The Akademiya?”

Nahida shakes her head quickly, “This is very sensitive information and it could put others lives at risk, but I know that if I’m correct, you’d be the best one to help me.”

Lumine nods trying to ignore the feeling of dread crawling up her back.

“We should probably keep moving.”

Sumeru was much different than the last time you’ve seen it.

Besides it being more advanced, it gave off the feeling that it was more peaceful. Maybe the citizens finally started dreaming.

You let out a huff as you stare down at a river you had to cross. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem since you would just use your abilities to do what you needed, but you were trying not to use your powers at all.

When you had gave out the Gnosis to the Seven Archons, you gave them a bit of your grace which is how they became Gods in the first place. Not only did the Gnosis give them the power to wield elemental energy without a vision but it also gave them a closer connection to you.

So anytime you use your abilities, the Archons would know.

You reach down pulling off your shoes, it was already annoying that you had to walk, the last thing you want to do is deal with wet shoes.

“Hey!” A high pitched voice called out, “I think I found them.”

You let out another sigh recognizing the voice instantly. It was that weird… floating… creature that tagged along with that outlander. The sound of hurried footsteps caused you to turn around.

You were right. It was the blonde girl and her companion but this time they were with someone else?

Your eyes widen a bit, but not enough to give away your shock.

This girl with them was definitely one of the Archons, the Dendro one to be exact. Yet this wasn’t the Dendro Archon the last time you had came to Teyvat so that must mean…

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Lumine says in between breaths.

You smile, “I appreciate your care, but you didn’t have to go all out of your way just because you found me in the desert. I feel fine no-“

“I met The Creator.” Lumine interrupts, “you two share the same face.”

Well damn, you didn’t keep this a secret for very long.

“So you know…” you say calmly to them. They all share glances with each other then look back at you.

“How is that possible?” Paimon asks, “how can two Creators exist at the same time?”

You drop your shoe’s sliding them back on before crossing your arms, “well I’m guessing since you’re not attacking me or trying to arrest me you have your doubts about the ‘Creator’… I’m guessing that it’s Kusanali’s doing.”

The Archon gives you a perplexed look, “you know my name?”

You nod. “Of course I do, with my connection to Teyvat it would only make sense, right?”

Well there was no point in acting ignorant now, they had already confronted you with the information.

“So…” you drag out, “why did you come all the way out here to find me?”

Lumine leans back and forth on her feet awkwardly, “well actually The Creator…er-“ she was hesitant, as if she didn’t know what to call them, “they asked me to bring you to them.”

You nod understandingly, “and are you going to do as they asked?”

Lumine looks down at Nahida then back at you, “well after talking with Nahida, I have my doubts if they are truly who they say they are.”

You want to smile, but fight it. It seems that the God of Wisdom is still living up to the reputation. Even if it is someone else.

“Well I guess there’s no reason to lie anymore. I am who you believe but I have no way to prove it to you yet. It would make my presence more…noticeable to others.”

Nahida gives you a smile, “I believe you. Proof isn’t necessary.”

Lumine and Paimon whip their head to stare at the white haired girl, “what do you mean proof isn’t necessary? You just said-“

“I’m know.” She interjects, “but now that I am standing here face-to-face with them. I can feel the special connection that Irminsul and the scriptures deep within the Akademiya we’re talking about.”

Nahida looks back at you and continues, “Lumine, I’m not sure if you feel it but standing here with them now I feel a warmth that I don’t get from the one on the Throne. Not to mention that not a single monster had attacked us since we had gotten into a certain radius of them.”

Lumine’s jaw drops a bit as she watches Nahida give you a small bow a look of guilt in her eyes. “I apologize for my foolishness, I should’ve known that they weren’t who they say they were.”

This time you don’t fight the smile from forming on your lips, “you don’t have to apologize, whoever they are, them pretending to be me was supposed to be uncanny. If the Archons could tell from one look that they wasn’t The Creator then I doubt they would’ve tried.”

Lumine was still a bit unconvinced. She couldn’t trust Gods that easily since one had taken her brother away from her. However she does trust Nahida and if Nahida believes you are who you say, she will go along with it too. She hopes that she’ll have the time to ask you about the unknown God or even Khaenri'ah.

“So there’s actually something I wanted to ask you…” you sit down in the soft grass crossing your legs. “Being an Archon, I’m guessing you spent lots of time with the one on the throne right?”

Nahida nods.

“Could you tell me… have they changed anything?”

It was silent for a moment as the God of Wisdom hesitates to answer your question.

“Actually there is one thing.”

You perk up giving her your full attention.

“They want to invade Snezhnaya… They are trying to get the other Archons to declare war on the nation.”

“What!” You exclaim, “why? Why would they do that.”

“Well the Cryo Archon, the Tsaritsa, had closed off her nation a few years ago and won’t let anyone in, even them. No one is for sure why, but when one of her Harbingers were in Sumeru I tried to ask him and he said ‘we will all know eventually’”

“Oh Paimon remembers him,” you notice her shudder at the thought, “he was super creepy and dangerous!”

You let out a breath bring your hand up to you mouth, “I have to act quickly then. I can’t let that happen… Teyvat has already lost enough.” Your voice softens at the end, since you were mostly talking to yourself but judging from the looks on the girls faces, you assume they heard you.

“Is there anyway we can help?” Lumine asks suddenly. She didn’t even realize the words had left her mouth until it was too late, almost as if she had no control over herself anymore. Like she had the dying urge to help you.

You stare at her, “I’ve never met anyone who wanted to help a world they’re not even from. You’re different than others I’ve met.”

Your voice was so genuine and sweet that Lumine couldn’t help the smile that went across her face or the warm feeling the enveloped her at the sound of your praise.

“Well there is something you could do… all of you.” You stand from your spot on the ground, dusting any dirt off your clothing.

“Go along with the False Creator, make them believe you are loyal to them.”

“How can we do that?” The Traveler questions, “they said to bring you back.”

“Oh that’s right…” you mutter, “tell them I’m dead.”

“You want us to what?” Paimon shrieks.

“If the False Creator believes I’m dead they’ll stop looking for me and then no one else will be aware of my existence.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Nahida says.

“I’m heading to Liyue.” You simply explain.

“Alone?” Lumine says, “I can go with you. A lot of people trust me in Liyue.”

You give her a smile, despite how reserved she seemed to be when you had first told them about your true nature. Now she was basically jumping at the idea of helping you, maybe you had a stronger affect on her than she wants to admit.

“Thanks but I’ll be fine. I’m used to traveling alone anyways.”

The Traveler deflates a bit when you decline but nods.

“I’m counting on you… Lumine, Nahida, and Paimon.” You confess as you walk back toward the body of water you had plans to cross until they had interrupted.

The group of girls watch you walk off, once you were out of sight, they turn around heading back towards Sumeru City.

“What are we going to do now.” Paimon says once they start walking back.

“You two should tell the False Creator that they are dead, I’m going to enter Irminsul and see if I can find anything that will help.”

Lumine nods.

Once again the Traveler was thrown off their journey of meeting the Seven, but for once, she actually didn’t mind it one bit.

Note: I got a bit carried away with this part… and this isn’t how I wanted to end it originally. But I’ll just add that to part three instead.

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

Taglist: @esthelily

if you’d like to be added, you can send an ask or just comment below. :>

[traumatizing-unnamed-ocs]

The end of fighting

Summary: Hero is exhausted, just trying to keep Villain distracted while the rest of the team does their job. And Villain? Villain just might discover something Themes: Power dynamics (some nice kneeling ;)) Possible triggers: Fighting, Murder mentioned, slight suicidal tendencies I guess

With every breath there was a taste of blood in Heros mouth, but they couldn’t take a break. Not yet.

“Come on, is that all you can do?” Villain asked lightly, as if Hero wasn’t even a threat to them. They weren’t. If Hero had been well rested, well equipped by J.U.S.T.I.C.E, things would have been different. But they had been pulling double shifts since Superhero had left, and this had never been supposed to be a fight they would win. They just needed to be a distraction, while the important heroes disabled the bombs. 

“I’m barely getting started”, Hero forced out, attempting another attack but barely managing to reach Villain.

“Ups, too late. Hey, maybe I should buy you a coffee, because this is getting boring.”

“Can you please just shut up?” Hero heard their own desperation and wanted to slam their head into a wall. Never let them see your weak points, you just show them where to attack. But Villain already knew that far too well where to attack Hero, and like J.U.S.T.I.C.E had said, it didn’t matter if Hero died in this fight, as long as it was after the bombs were disabled. The sound of an explosion shook the ground.

“Oh fuck me”, Villain explained, turning their back to Hero as if they weren’t even a threat, and looking at the cloud of smoke that was now rising from the bank. “Guess inflation isn’t going to go up for a while”, they said, sounding oddly unbothered by the whole situation.

Hero thought about running away. They were allowed to, their only mission was to distract Villain until the bombs weren’t a threat any more, which was now, even though things hadn’t played out the way they had wanted. But running away seemed like so much work, and honestly, Hero didn’t see the point. So they just stood there, panting from exhaustion, until Villain turned around.

“Still here?” Villain asked, as if they had read Heros' mind. “Don’t tell me you still want to fight.”

“I don’t care”, Hero got out, still hardly getting any breath. They were sore all over. They were so fucking tired.

“Not to tell you what to do, but you probably should start caring now”, Villain said, taking a menacing step towards Hero. “I mean, my plan just got destroyed. I am angry. I want revenge. And you are right here, in front of me, and it’s your fault. Hero, I am seriously contemplating killing you.”

There was a part of Heros' brain screaming at them to run. They needed to keep fighting, keep going, there was so much they still needed to do. But they also felt so incredibly tired.

“Fine”, Hero heard themself say. Then they fell to their knees. Then they waited for the blow to come.

After a while, the pain in their lungs lessened. Their heartbeat went down to an almost normal rhythm, the sound of blood rushing in their ears subsided. And, curiously, they were still alive.

As Hero dared to look up, they found Villain looking down at them. The expression in their face was something Hero couldn’t place, at least not in this situation. Pity was the thing that came to mind, but Hero knew what pity looked like, and this wasn’t it.

“You could still run away”, Villain offered. “I wouldn’t try to stop you.”

“What’s the point?” Hero asked. Something new seemed to have spread its wings over the two of them, something that seemed strangely comfortable for the situation they were in.

“I don’t know. What would be the point in killing you?”

“I don’t know”, Hero echoed.

“I don’t either. It’s not like you, as a person, have done anything that bad. You just work for a shit corporation.” Hero thought that maybe they should say something about this, probably in defence of J.U.S.T.I.C.E, but it didn’t seem like Villain was expecting them to answer, and honestly, Hero didn’t really care that much about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. It was just the only job they knew how to do. “And it would be a shame to kill somebody that looks so pretty on their knees.”

Forgotten were all thoughts about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. Hero stared up at Villain in absolute shock.

“Oh come on, I can’t be the first person to think that you are cute. I mean, it’s a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but believe me, there’s a substantial audience for that.”

Now Hero really wanted to say something, because they did not want to have a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but there wasn’t exactly a dignified way to defend themself while kneeling in front of Villain. 

The far sound of hurried steps broke the strange tension between them. Villains gaze snapped away from Hero, and they were hurrying to get away. But then, with another look at Hero, they stopped.

“Oh fuck it”, they said out loud, scrambling to get something from their pocked. “Don’t make me regret this. If you ever have a day off, call me, and I’ll buy you that coffee you need.” 

Hero stared dumbly, as a folded piece of paper was pressed into their hand.

“But if you set me up, I will kill you, no matter how cute you look.”

And with that, Villain was gone.

This story featured Hero as Hero and Vigilante as Villain. Will they return?

Yes, in Part Two