#looking back on it now the fact when i used to feel this the fact that it felt like i should have wings made by back feel all weird

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt finds out about your self harm.

Warnings: Self harm, mentions of not eating, angst, overall dark themes. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: Please reach out to hotlines if you are struggling, you are not alone <333

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

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00: Not-so-sweet escape

Everyone needs an escape. Reality is harsh, too painful to bathe in every second of the day. All you wanted was something you could cope with, something that would make the ache of breathing sting a little less. 

It started small—very small. Sometimes you’d purposefully just not eat, purposefully make your body feel weak. But it escalated. Like everything else, the addiction became lethal. 

01: Fake it

You’re exhausted. Every bone feels like it’s withering away beneath your itchy skin. It’s like your body is reacting to your mind, mimicking how dead you feel. 

The bathroom is dark. You’ve been sitting on the cold tile for ages, wishing that the dark would somehow consume you. But it doesn’t. All it does is mock you in silence, the quiet peace haunting your running thoughts, jealousy burning through your face as you feel tears swell in your eyes. 

“Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?” 

Matt. He knocks softly, his brows furrowed as he sees the lack of light illuminating from the door gap from the floor. He’s worried. He doesn’t wanna say anything, he barely has a reason to be concerned other than the fact that he can just feel it—feel something awful as if it’s contagious. 

The lump in your throat is thick. You bite down hard on your inner cheek, letting the back of your head fall against the wall. “Yeah, that… that sounds like fun.” 

You don’t have it in yourself to do anything but pretend. 

02: Pretty Weak

It’s running smoothly until it doesn’t. The way you fake it is sometimes too convincing. You find yourself truly believing in hope until you’re alone again, feening for some sort of relief that you don’t think will ever come. 

The sun is rising, your mind is barely awake. Matt has your face nuzzled in his chest, his hand wrapped around the bottom of your thigh as he pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

“You look so pretty,” he compliments. 

And then it stops. Those words trigger your body to stiffen just the slightest before falling lifelessly. You don’t feel pretty. And it wasn’t necessarily about your body either, it was your eyes. They looked so… dull—like something inside your body had failed, leaving you as some sort of corpse left to rot in reality. 

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? You stay here, I wanna eat in bed with you.” 

His words are sweet, truly. But they make you feel guilty. He’s so full of love, everything good. And you’re full of… well, you’re full of nothing. Your blood feels like dust, your tears caressing your cheeks like dry clouds. 

It’s just so empty, so useless. 

As Matt leaves the room, you can’t help but stare towards the bathroom. You want it. You want it so bad. The relief is all that seems to linger when you recall memories of such a brutal coping mechanism. You can’t find it in yourself to search for the reasons why you stopped in the first place. 

But you don’t. You can’t. 

He’ll see it. 

Anywhere you put a single mark, Matt would always see it. You live together, he constantly helps get you dressed, sometimes you even shower together. But right now? Right now you just don’t care—not when you feel this unbearable urge, an unbearable itch. You need it. 

And the worst part? The worst part is that you feel so weak. Nothing bad has even happened. Your boyfriend’s making you breakfast after calling you pretty and somehow that isn’t enough to make you happy. 

03: Cope 

Relationships are supposed to be built and maintained on bricks of trust. And that’s what you have with Matt. Well, used to. You’ve been lying to him constantly, giving excuses, avoiding him like the plague—even though you feel like you’re the disease. 

But it’s just too much. You can’t put this on him, you won’t. Not when this isn’t his battle to fight, not when you gave into the past addiction so easily. 

“Sweetheart, do you wanna take a bath together? I got all the fun stuff,” he says excitedly, lifting items out of a plastic grocery bag, showing you all the best things—bubbles, candles, scrubs… everything. 

He didn’t do it for any other reason other than wanting to spend more intimate time with you. Physical touch is important to him. It doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but he craves your skin on his, he needs the rawness of being close to you. 

You feel bad rejecting the offer. In all honesty, it sounds so nice. But you can’t. Not when you know he’ll see it. Then he’ll worry. And he doesn’t need to worry. This helps you, he wouldn’t understand that. 

Matt’s shoulders slump as he tries to spare a small smile, not wanting to seem too disappointed. The awful guilt crawls up your chest, creating a lump in your throat. 

And there’s only one way to cope. 

04: He Knows

His heart feels like it’s ripping out of his chest. The more hints he slowly picks up on, the more he realizes what’s really going on. He doesn’t want to believe it. Denial is logical to him. Afterall, you’d tell him, right?

The trust he has for you is unfathomable, immeasurable. He’s certain you’d tell him. He’s certain he’d know immediately if things were that bad. 

And then he stops feeling the ripping of his heart in his chest. Instead, he hears it—a loud cry leaving his lips. 

Matt was never one to snoop. He respects your privacy more than anything. But he saw pink water resting above the shower drain after you had exited fully clothed. You’re not on your period, he knows that for a fact. And—you didn’t really shave in that quick of a shower. 

He knows. 

05: Lose

They’ve gone missing. Every tool you’ve ever used and hidden in your bathroom drawer—they’re just… gone. 

Your stomach drops, your fingers aching as you furiously shuffle through the miscellaneous products in your drawer, trying to find anything. But it’s not there. 

Matt couldn’t bring himself to fully confront you without knowing more. The pink water haunted him as he flipped through the pages of your journal, his stomach twisting in knots when he saw the dates trace back further and further.

How did he not know sooner? 

What if he had never known until it was too late? 

Even the thought makes him sick. He can’t fathom the thought of you completely out of his everyday life. He needs you. 

Matt hears you rummaging through the drawers, his chest shaking as he tries to take a deep breath. 

He’s just not ready to lose you. 

06: Lost

Horrified fear. The look on your face is viciously distraught, your hands twisting into fists as you sit on the edge of the bed, Matt’s voice ringing through the air. He explains the pink water, how he didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, he was only concerned. 

Part of you is angry. You want to snap at him for going through your stuff. But he had a valid reason—he wasn’t wrong. 

“-and I’ll help. We can look into therapists, I’m here every step of the way–”

“You don’t understand, Matt.” 

Your words are bitter. Matt’s face scrunches, almost as if he’s in pain. It hurts to look at someone you love suffering—especially when they’re looking at you with pure hatred. And that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Although, you don’t hate him, you hate how he makes you see yourself. You’re weak. You couldn’t even reach out for help to your boyfriend who has never failed you. 

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve lost you. But as you walk out the door, it kinda feels like he has. 

07: Escape

Oh god it hurt his heart. The pain in his chest is the most brutal violence of emotions he has ever felt in his life. And he just wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Not when he’s holding you, consoling you as you scream at him. 

“I know it’s bad! I’m not fucking stupid, I just-”

Your words fall weaker, your fists hammering against his chest starting to unclench as you let out a sad cry.

“I just needed an escape.”

08: Revolving Door

Your cheek is raw from how often your teeth seemed to knaw into the muscle. Matt’s sitting on the desk chair, trying to not stare at you as you write down in a journal. 

You refused to go to therapy. The thought of saying everything out loud made you sick. So, this is the best he could come up with—put it on a page so it doesn’t have to rest in your mind. And honestly, it helped. It helped more long term than anything else.

But you just missed it—the immediate relief. 

Matt assures you that you’re not weak when you explain this to him. He’s there to let you cry and sit numbly, as long as he’s there to make sure you’re safe—not walking into the revolving door until you’re so scattered that you don’t even know how to get back out. 

He loves you—even if it’s not as a lover and just as a soul. He’ll hold open any door, take you places that make it easier to breathe. He makes you feel strong—strong enough to not turn back to that revolving door.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 27

masterpost This is just a first draft, please no concrit!

Danny wasn’t sure about this.

He should be. Bruce seemed sure about it. His… his siblings seemed sure about it. Babs seemed sure about it. But Danny… Danny couldn’t help but feel like he was forcing himself on another person. The fact that Annalise was dead didn’t help him feel any better at all. In fact, everyone had learned to avoid that point of argument after how upset it had made Danny the first time that Damian had tried it.

They didn’t get it, how could they? Death meant something different to them.

“Danny?” Dick’s concerned voice interrupted Danny’s thoughts. “Do you want something different to eat?”

Danny blinked down at the scrambled eggs that he had been idly pushing around on his plate for the last few minutes. The yellow lumps didn’t look very edible anymore. “Oh. Um, I guess another scone and some fruit?”

It was only Dick, Damian, Duke, and Bruce at breakfast that day. All the D kids. Jason had gone back home yesterday. Dick would leave today, but Tim would be back and maybe Cass. It was hard to have less of them there. It was hard to have them away where Danny couldn’t know they were safe. Danny tried not to make a big deal about it, he had to let them all start getting back to their lives. They had been giving up so much for him.

After swallowing a large bite of the scone Dick had passed him, Danny asked, “Can I see how changing back to my ghost form goes today?”

For just a split second, everyone at the table froze before they forced themselves back into motion.

“Of course. Do you want to do that after breakfast? I’d like myself or Dick to be with you, in case there’s a set back with your injuries,” Bruce said.

“I guess? I don’t know when Dick wants to leave,” Danny said with a glance between the two adults at the table.

“I don’t have to head out until early afternoon,” Dick chirped. “What’s work like for you, B?”

“Just an afternoon meeting that I’ll be attending virtually. Lucius knows there’s a family thing going on and is holding down the fort,” Bruce said.

“Lucius Fox,” Duke explained. “He keeps stuff running and Bruce on track.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s true. He also knows about the family nightlife, which helps immensely.”

“I guess that after breakfast works,” Danny said as he picked a little at his scone. He was realizing that Bruce hadn’t actually seen his ghost form before. Damian and Duke hadn’t either, he didn’t think. It felt like a reveal even though it wasn’t. Danny met Damian’s searching gaze and gave a little bit of a shrug. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been in it. I guess I’m feeling, like, this itch about it.”

Damian gave a little nod. “A muscle that needs stretching. May I join Father and Grayson in the Cave to watch?”

A chunk of the scone broke off. Danny fumbled it slightly before just setting the pastry down on his plate. “Sure? I don’t know if it’s really going to be anything interesting. I’m guessing that I might still be pretty weak, so I don’t really plan to try much.”

“What sort of things can you normally do?” Duke asked as he mopped up the last of the egg on his plate with a piece of toast.

Danny resisted the urge to fidget with the scone again. “Oh, um, well flight is the most basic thing.”

“Please no flying too high or over open parts of the cave right now,” Bruce said with a slightly strained sounding voice. “I’d rather you not fall when we can’t safely catch you. When you think you’re stable, we can have a family friend over to spot you.”

“Oh. Sure? I mean, I’ve fallen before and I’ve been fine. It’s hard for me to take damaged in the form.”

“Still, Dandelion,” Dick said carefully. “We’d rather not risk you. Just put up with us being overly cautious for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny replied on rote. He didn’t really get it. There hadn’t been any being careful before with Sam and Tucker, but he had been hurt around his new family a lot. “Um, other powers I have are to go invisible and intangible. And I can shoot some energy blast elemental things. There’s duplication too, but it’s, um… yeah. Not great and I don’t want to after…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is just what you need,” Bruce assured him. “No one is asking you to use your powers here unless it’s something that you want to do or need to do for your health.”

Danny gave a jerky little nod and looked away. “Right.”

“Come on, Dami,” Dick said as he stood, “let’s go run through some stretches so we can get some practice in before I leave.”

“I’ll let Alfred know you’ll still be here for lunch and that I won’t be. Group project,” Duke said and got up also.

It went from a pretty full table to just Danny and Bruce almost instantly. Danny nibbled on a chunk of the scone.

“Danny, what’s going through your head, chum?”

What was going through his head? “I just… I don’t know. My ghost half has always been for something. Sam wanted me to fight the other ghosts. My… anyways, experiments. I guess I don’t know how to talk about it after everything. I don’t know how to talk about it with all of you. You guys are out there being heroes all the time and… don’t you want to use my powers?”

Bruce moved to the seat next to Danny. He was so large that he loomed a little even when trying to seem smaller. Danny didn’t think he’d get that large. Not anymore, not after dying. Not after the years in a box.

Would Damian get bigger than him? Probably.

“In the Justice League, I’m the strategist,” Bruce said calmly. “There have been times in my life that I’ve been far too much the strategist. There have been other times in my life when I’ve tried to use strategy to cover up my fears and feelings and have hurt people. It’s something that I still have to work on, and I likely will for the rest of my life. I very much do not want to not screw that up with you. After everything you’ve been through, I want it to be as clear as possible that who you are and what you are isn’t something that I plan to use. The only one that gets to say what you use that for is yourself. You’re not an asset, you’re my kid.”

Danny blinked quickly. He didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t know if I know how to be a kid anymore.”

“I was horrible at being a kid,” Bruce said. “As were… well, a number of my children. But the good of that is, you don’t have to be a normal kid here. If for you being a kid is training Ursa and going flying and, I don’t know, building model airplanes then that’s fine. If at some point you do want to be part of the nightlife, then that will be fine too. You have all of us to figure those things out with you. And we’ll disagree sometimes, because we’re us, but that is alright too.”

Danny gave a slightly watery little chuckle. “Going to build model airplanes with me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, absolutely.”

“What if… what if part of what I want is to reach out to Jazz? What if I want her to help me figure out things too?”

“Then I just ask that you let us figure out how to do that safely first so that no one can find you here and come for you,” Bruce said.

“You’d really let me?”

“She’s your sister. You being part of this family doesn’t change that. In fact, Jazz welcome to be part of this family if she would like to be. But she can also not be and still be your sister.”

“Once it’s safe,” Danny said. “I’ll reach out once it’s safe for me and for Dami and Jason too. I won’t let them get hurt because of me.”

Bruce ruffled Danny’s hair. “I know you won’t. Just let us help with it. I don’t think any of us could take you running off like that again.”

Danny winced. “That… wasn’t my best moment.”

“Maybe not, but we all understand how you got to that point. I’m just glad that you were headed to me and that we got you back,” Bruce said with a little shrug. “Well, and that you didn’t get pneumonia from being injured and out in the rain.”

Danny stood when Bruce did, setting his napkin on the table. He tried not to seem like he was scrambling, but the formal meals were still a little much. “I’m glad about that too. I think I’ve been injured enough for a long time.”

“You really have been,” Bruce agreed. “Which is why I’d prefer no full on flying until we have either Superman or Superboy over to visit and spot you.”

“I won’t fall, I don’t think.”

“Still,” Bruce said with a little frown that seemed somehow dark.

“Oh, strategist. You can, like, picture it, can’t you? Me falling.”

“Far too easily.”

“Okay, yeah, no full on flying on my own until you know I won’t fall,” Danny agreed. “Even if I know you’d catch me.”

“We’d try our best to, chum, always.”

[shikaizer]

FUCK BUDDY pb x reader

summary: your friends have talked about hanging out in kk's house all 6 of you, including paige, it cant be helped that the tension will give you the akwardness, and paiges constant staring to be ignored, maybe from the fact that the both of you have been doing sinful things behind closed door that only the two of you share.

warning: 18+, mdni. jealousy,deep fucking,public sex,degrading,slapping, quicky, biting,marking.

"bro! and then she hit my shoulder like it was metal!" kk shouted earning a laugh from all of your friends, you were too lost looking down at the floor, ignoring the blondie staring infront of you.

you honestly dont know why your ignoring her, when last night while her knuckles are deep down on you, both of have been sharing a deep gaze just fine. but you cant even bring yourself to look at her.

"bro shut the fuck up its not that deep" aubrey groaned and kk put her tounge out

my eyes roam to the floor, some alcohol and snacks scattered, you didnt dare look up since paige was sitting infront of you and you have been feeling her staring eversince you arrived. she was confused why you werent even giving her a single stare but she just let it pass.

aubrey sat next to you and wrapped her arms around your shoulder grinning "but if it was this pretty girl, i would give her all the chocolate without a smack" aubrey wiggled her eyebrows, you are lost in their conversation but all you knew was when kk stole aubreys chocolate and she gave her a hard smack across the shoulder.

"i prefer fruits" you shrugged and kk and aubrey looked at you in disbelief

"because shes fruity" nika added and ice scoffed "nika thats corny" you just laughed and aubrey still had her arms around your shoulder while your back is rest at the bottom of the couch

"bro i agree, i think y/n has a girl we dont know" kk cackled and i furrowed my eyebrows shaking my head

being carried away, you bought your eyes up looking over at her and your met with a cold dark gaze, your raised both your eyebrows trying to get a reaction out of her but she looked like she was dead serious

was it aubrey? you looked over at aubrey who was busy talking to kk beside her, arms still wrapped around me, but theres no way shes jealous. because she have seen you kissing your teamates in the cheek and hugging them.

you were so lost looking over at aubrey that she caught you, but she just gave you a smile "you okay pretty girl?" she asked voice comforting and you nodded

"just feeling light headed, need to use the bathroom" as you are about to stand up aubrey was about to do too "want me to come?" she asked and paige stood up stopping both of you

"let me come with her, i was about to wash my face anyway" paige spoke up, her words coming out authorative, but aubrey paid no mind to it nodding and squeezing your hips, of course paigw saw.

she took your hand not saying a single thing as she dragged you to the bathroom, she locked the door and she sighed.

"so its aubrey now huh?" you frowned confused

"paige what are you talking about?" she stepped closer and lifted you up efortlessly on the marble counter sink. "you know damn well what im talking about" she tilt your head by your chin pressing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips making you whimper "thats why you have been ignoring me huh." she clicked her tounge, as you were about to speak, a harsh slap came on your cheeks, but not hard enough to seriously hurt you "tell me baby, does she fuck you like i do?"

you breath out shaking your head "paige she-" she cut you off and slammed her lips on yours bringing you in a rough passionate kiss her hands reach down underneath your skirt massaging your clit through you panty

she pulled away from the kiss and started trailing down to your jaw down to your neck "paige.." you breath out and she buried her teeth in your collarbone sucking on them making you wince

"would you rather fuck her or me?" she asks your panty being pulled down as she put them in her pockets as her fingers starts to rub circle motions on your clit making you moan

"you- paige..!" you threw your head back exposing your neck and paige was quick to kiss the side of it sucking on them.

she slid her fingers inside and hit that spongy spot that made you go arching your back as your moans starts to get louder, paige slammed her palm in your mouth muffling your moans.

"gotta stay queit for me baby, dont want them to know dont we" you squeezed your eyes shut nodding as she picked up her pace slamming inside you roughly

"who can fuck you this good baby?" she slowly lifted her palm away from your mouth expecting for an answer " youu... paige..fuck!..." she quickly covered your mouth again and pounded her fingers more curling them to add more pleasure

your muffled moans turned her on more making her fasten the way she was pulling in and out inside you, and the way your thighs would squeeze between her hands is making her go crazy.

"pa...ige...gonn....cum!" you managed to say thru muffled voice which paige was quick to understand picking up her pace much faster.

"cum for me then baby" she whispered to you and the knot in your womb formed making you wraps your legs around her hips pulling her closer, as you reached your climax, your whole body vibrated and paige slowly took out her fingers and sucking on them while you watched thru heavy breaths.

she massaged you thighs for a while soothing you and putting your panty back with her help.

both of you fixed yourselves and made your way outside to be met by your friends staring at you like they just saw through the door.

but actually they fucking heard. boo, both of ya'll are fucked.

[focusonkayjay]

stuck with you | (1/??)

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: 18.4k+

Chapter Warnings:  jungkook wears GLASSES !!!! oc has like a whole abg vibe/ style going on if ykwim, jungkook is really awkward but he's a cutie patootie and actually a huge simp for oc cause he can never say no to her, yoonmin couple, random computer sci and econ things that may be inaccurate (pls don't come for me, this is literally just a fanfic :p) , morning wood, vine references, nerdshaming (???), oc is just an oblivious girlie, mature language, lmk if i missed anything.

cher's notes: THE FIRST PART OF SWY IS HERE !!! first, a huge thank you for 900 followers—i can’t even begin to wrap my head around it. it’s surreal to have so many of you here, supporting me, and i appreciate it more than words can say. truly, thank you. second, i’m so grateful to everyone who’s been looking forward to this little mini-series. writing it has been such an experience, and honestly, i think i’ve fallen a little too hard for this jungkook. also, fun fact: i had to do a whole deep dive on rubik’s cubes for this because, for some reason, i never realized that a 3x3 wasn’t the only variation out there lmao. anywaysss, i’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, so let me know what you think !! and stay tuned for the upcoming chapters <333

★ PLAYLIST ★ MOODBOARDS

one: close, but not too close

Jungkook nearly chokes on his ramune soda, the fizz catching at the back of his throat as his fingers fumble to pause the very intense anime scene playing on his monitor when he hears you kick his door open. 

"Kook!! Code Red!! Nail Crisis—We're Talking National Emergency!!" you announce, eyes wide as you wag your phone in the air, making your way towards him. He blinks, his brain struggling to catch up but you're already in his space, shoving your phone dangerously close to his face. 

"Choose." you command and Jungkook leans back against his gaming chair, adjusting his glasses as he tries to focus on the screen. 

Two nail designs stare back at him. Right side: pink, glittery, bow charms—so sweet it looks like it might summon a fairy princess. Left side: silver chrome, the tips are pointy and probably even sharp enough to lowkey stab someone.

Nail lingo? Yeah, he's heard you ramble about it—coffin something, almond something, acrylic something—words that sound more like architectural blueprints or dessert flavors than beauty terms. 

Honestly, trying to keep up with your world sometimes makes his brain overheat, but this? This he can manage.

He's used to this by now since it comes with the territory of being your roommate. The unofficial side quest of being your personal beauty advisor. Nail designs, outfit dilemmas, lipstick shade debates... he's seen it all. 

Sometimes he feels like he's living inside a live-streamed Vogue consultation, except the model is you, and the consultant is him—armed with nothing but vibes and the occasional "Yeah, that looks cool."

As of now, his inner gamer kicks in as he nibbles on his lower lip, observing the two pictures closely. Chrome looks like it could belong to a cyberpunk warrior or, at the very least, serve as a cool weapon so that's what he goes for. "This one." he taps the silver nails with a sense decisiveness. "It looks very cool." he adds with a smile. 

"Oh my god, YES. I was literally thinking the exact same thing." you squeal, clearly overjoyed making Jungkook chuckle under his breath. He knows—has known for a while now—that even if he picked the pink set, you'd probably still go with the design you wanted anyway. 

But that's fine. He's just happy to be here.

He watches as you move away from his chair and casually flop onto his bed like it's your own, scrolling through more inspo pics as you ramble on about appointment slots and some nail tech named Jiwon. 

You glance over, catching Jungkook listening—really listening—despite the fact that none of this is remotely relevant to him. He's nodding along with the corners of his lips faintly curved. 

He doesn't interrupt, doesn't tell you to leave, doesn't look the slightest bit annoyed because he's simply patient like that and that's what makes him so special. 

It's been a little over a year since you became roommates with Jungkook. 

Two months into freshman year, when you were drowning in campus chaos, you desperately needed a place... something close to university, something that didn't involve suffocating dorm curfews, passive-aggressive bathroom schedules, and the horror of communal showers.

Apartment hunting was hell, but then you somehow stumbled upon Jungkook's listing. He was a computer science major at your university, had a vacant room, and was looking for someone to split the rent. 

Practical. Convenient. 

But still, you were skeptical mainly because moving in with a guy felt weird and well, not to forget... guys can be very very gross. 

But the rent was affordable. The place seemed nice. And it was practically hugging campus. So, you took the leap of faith and decided to move in.

And much to your surprise—and relief—Jungkook turned out to be an amazing roommate.

For starters, he was clean. Immaculately so. Borderline obsessive. The boy worshipped his laundry detergent and had the entire apartment perpetually smelling like fresh cotton most of the time. 

He was religious about doing the dishes, cleaned the bathroom when it was his turn without needing reminders, and—bless his soul—put the toilet seat down after he was done using it. Every. Single. Time.

He was a bit of a nerd. No, scratch that—he was a full-fledged nerd. Now that you've lived with him long enough, you can confidently say so and honestly, it's so fucking endearing. 

He mostly keeps to himself, stationed in front of his monitor, either binging some random documentary or anime, playing some random game or just furiously coding. He's the kind of guy who could build a fully functional app over the weekend... just because he was bored.

His shelves are lined with books, mangas and also with rubik's cubes in every possible variation... 3x3, 4x4, 5x5, pyramid-shaped, and some monstrosity with like, twelve sides. You stopped keeping count because at some point, you convinced yourself that they just multiply when you're not looking.

He's super shy and introverted, but wickedly smart. Sometimes, he's fixing the WiFi like a tech wizard and other times, he's helping you with an economics assignment, despite having zero reason to know anything about supply curves. 

But that's just Jungkook. Quietly capable of doing anything and everything. 

And speaking of capable—Jungkook's greatest feat, by far, might be his effortless ability to put up with you.

For someone who had a mile-long checklist for what a good roommate should be... clean, respectful, non-creepy, someone who wouldn't turn your kitchen into a biohazard zone— you were, if you were being honest, not exactly the easiest person to live with.

Not in a nightmare roommate from hell kind of way, but... let's just say, you had a presence. A loud one. 

You took up space... in every sense of the word. You were the kind of person who moved through life with a little extra volume, a little more color, and a whole lot of unapologetic flair.

You were, by most standards, the "it girl" of your university. Effortlessly cool, perpetually well-dressed, the kind of person everyone either wanted to be or be around. You didn't just follow trends... you set them.

Your Instagram is basically a curated mood board that half the campus tries to copy. You party hard, ace your classes when you feel like it, and always look good doing it.

You loved being a girl. You loved everything about it—the glittering ritual of makeup, the art of perfecting your nails, the thrill of styling the perfect outfit, the satisfaction of filming a flawless GRWM tiktok, the way a swipe of gloss could make you feel invincible.

And being roommates with Jungkook meant that, willingly or not, he had been drafted into your little glam army. He was your unofficial cameraman, your personal consultant, your human swatch palette.

You would burst into his room—mostly without knocking—waving a lip tint or eyeshadow palette in hand. "Hold still." you'd say, before smearing color across the back of his hand or, on more ambitious days... directly onto his lips. 

He had, as you once declared: "The most perfect lips—zero pigmentation. Every color looks good on you. It's honestly unfair."

Sometimes, you dragged him in front of the camera for random tiktoks—the now-iconic Roommate Series, which has somehow become a huge sensation on your account overtime. 

The series includes a bunch of videos like: "Doing My Roommate's Makeup (He's Nervous LOL)"   "My Roommate Picks My Outfit (Pray for Me)"  "Trying my Roommate's Gym Workout Routine (Send Help)"  "Cooking With My Roommate (We Almost Burned the Apartment Down)." And so many other classics that your followers absolutely loved.

Jungkook, your shy, introverted, perpetually hoodie-clad computer science major roommate—had somehow become the unwitting co-star of your social media life.

And the wildest part? He never complained. Not once. Never sighed out of frustration. Never rolled his eyes. Never told you to back off.

He just... went along with it.

He let you dust highlighter along his cheekbones because you were "testing undertones". Let you draw little eyeliner hearts under his eyes because you thought "it was cute". Let you turn his forearm into a rainbow of lipstick swatches because you were "deciding on a vibe."

He took your outfit photos with an almost alarming level of precision, learning your angles better than some of your actual friends. He gave honest opinions when you held up two skirts and asked which one was giving. 

You even managed to convince him to record voiceovers for a few of your GRWM videos, purely because you thought it would be hilarious and thankfully, his soft, awkward narration had now become a fan favorite.

Jungkook was everything you weren't... quiet, reserved, more comfortable behind a screen than in front of one. He didn't seek attention, didn't chase validation. He was happy existing in the background.

But for you, he stepped into the spotlight. Over and over again. 

And you absolutely adored him for it. For his patience. For his kindness. For the way he always—always—made you feel like you weren't too much, even when you knew you probably were.

You know that most of the things you say, most of the things you do, barely register as important in his world. But he listens and helps you do it anyway, only because it matters to you. 

Jungkook watches you with a small, almost imperceptible smile as you lie sprawled across his bed, legs lazily kicking in the air while you continue to ramble on about Jiwon and how it's so hard to secure an appointment with her because she's always booked. 

It's endearing. The kind of domesticity he never thought he'd find so... warm. You're nothing like him... bright where he's quiet, bold where he's reserved, yet he likes it. 

Likes you.

Jungkook remembers the first time he saw you so vividly, like it's burned into his brain. It was on the 2nd day of freshman orientation. 

You were wearing these loose, low-waisted jeans that somehow looked effortless instead of sloppy, paired with a top that flashed just a sliver of your hips every time you moved. Your hair fell in layered waves, makeup sharp and glossy, but honestly... he barely registered those details.

What really caught him was your energy. You had this magnetic confidence, the kind that commanded attention without even trying. You laughed easily, made friends within minutes, and seemed to glide through the crowd like you belonged everywhere.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had blended into the wallpaper that day. Shuffling around with his laptop bag, adjusting his glasses every few seconds, hoping no one would talk to him for more than two minutes. 

But he had watched you, just for a little longer than he probably should have and thought to himself, wow.

The thing about Jungkook is, he's always been a hopeless romantic. The kind of guy who cries over romance animes at 2 AM, thinks holding hands in winter is peak intimacy, and genuinely believes kissing in the rain might cure the world's problems. 

He's also the kind of person who believes that when you meet the one meant for you, the universe will let you know with soft bell chimes in the air, a gentle ringing in your chest, like some cosmic signal only you can hear.

And that day, when his eyes first found you in the sea of strangers, he swore he heard bells.

But unfortunately, Jungkook was also more hopeless than romantic.

Approaching girls? Nope. Eye contact? Terrifying. Flirting? That was an urban legend he had only seen in movies. 

Jungkook's never had a girlfriend and high school had been a blur of random girls seeking him out because they thought he was cute, mainly drawn in by his adorable smile and doe eyes. But their interest fizzled out just as quickly as it sparked, the moment they realized he wasn't some effortlessly cool bad boy or charming heartbreaker. 

He was just... him. Quiet. Awkward. 

The boy who took too long to respond to texts because he was overthinking every word, who blushed when someone sat too close, who found more comfort in rotting in his room solving a sudoko puzzle over the weekend, than navigating the social labyrinth of teenage romance.

So, that day at orientation, all he did was admire you from a safe distance, fully convinced you existed in a league he wasn't even qualified to spectate. He brushed it off, telling himself that you'd never ever notice a guy like him and he was almost certain he'd never see you again.

But fate is funny like that.

Because two months later, you were standing at his door with a fresh set of nails and a cool jacket, asking him if his roommate listing was still open. 

And suddenly, the girl who was once nothing more than a fleeting dream was now stealing his WiFi, using his arm as a makeup palette, and casually making him fall for her just a little more every single day.

He loved it when you asked him to take your pictures, loved the way you trusted him so instinctively with your angles, your poses, your vision. Loved that you valued his input, sought his opinions like they actually mattered. 

Loved that you pulled him into your silly little videos, even when he was red-faced and stiff, fumbling through whatever tiktok dance or GRWM voiceover you'd roped him into.

Yes, he was shy. Yes, he was awkward. Always unsure of where to place his hands or how to soften his default nervous smile. 

But it felt good... really good to be included. To be wanted. To be someone you liked having around. 

Because for someone who usually dreaded conversations lasting more than two minutes, talking to you, laughing with you... just being with you, felt like the easiest thing in the world.

"Oh my god, Y/n !!" Jimin exclaims as both of you weave through the econ building, making your way towards the last class of the day. You glance at him and notice the way he's clutching onto his phone, scrolling with his eyes widened in shock.

"What now?" you ask, already giggling as you lean in to peek at his screen. "Your recent tiktok—the one with Jungkook?" He spins his phone around, shoving it in your face. "One. Million. Views. You're both famous, babe."

Your eyes widen, and you fumble for your own phone, unlocking it. The video you'd posted just last week, titled "Styling My Shy Roommate" had absolutely exploded. You scroll through the the screen flooded with heart emojis and a bunch of comments. 

"WHY IS HE BLUSHING LIKE THAT?? I'M WEAKKKKK" "Softboy era activated." "Tell him he doesn't need to pay rent—he can just stand in my living room." "Is he okay? He looks like he's being held hostage but also kind of loving it??"

You can't help but grin as your mind flashes back to the memory of filming it. How Jungkook stood in your room like he was awaiting sentencing, stiff as a board while you fussed over his sleeves and buttoned up the cardigan you had handpicked from the men's section after dragging him through three different stores

He had looked so painfully nervous, wide eyes consciously darting to the camera while you just told him to act natural. Well, spoiler alert, he did not act natural. He looked like he was buffering.

"I swear..." Jimin starts again. "You need to start paying him royalties at this point. That poor boy is practically your unpaid intern." he says, making you laugh because honestly, he's not wrong.

"The comments are killing me." Jimin continues. "He's practically the internet's emotional support introvert right now." he cackles while you snort, flicking through more comments yourself. "I should show him these. He'll pass out." you joke. 

"Or he'll delete all his social media and go off the grid." Jimin deadpans. "He's so shy, Y/n. Every time I come over, he looks like he's deciding whether to greet me or make a break for the fire escape."

"He's like that with everyone. It's just who he is." you say fondly with a giggle. "Uh-huh. But with you? He isn't so shy." Jimin grins, making you furrow your brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying... you seem to be the only one who gets him to break out of that socially awkward equilibrium. Everyone else gets market stagnation, but you? You trigger an expansion." Jimin animatedly explains as both of you enter the lecture hall.

"Oh my god, not you sneaking in an econ joke right before class... please, have some shame." you click your tongue, the mock disappointment on your face making Jimin snicker. 

"But... maybe you're right. We've lived together for over a year now, so I guess he's just used to me. Besides, I annoy him 24/7, he kind of doesn't have a choice." You chuckle. 

"But seriously though... he looked so good in that video, right? Like, you can't tell me the supply-demand curve wasn't absolutely peaking in the comments section." you giggle, nudging Jimin with your elbow.

"Of course you had to drag market behavior into this." Jimin groans. "What can I say? Consumer preferences are shifting heavily towards soft boys in cardigans." you shrug as you settle into your seat.

"And you—" Jimin points accusingly. "—are monopolizing the supply." he finishes, taking the seat right next to you. 

You both dissolve into laughter as you pull out your iPads, getting ready for class. As you settle in, Jimin leans over one last time. "Seriously though, next time you get him into a vest or whatever, you owe him dinner. Or, like... a retirement plan." he says, raising his brows. 

"Deal. But if he quits, you're my backup model." you grin. "I expect hazard pay." he jokes. 

After what feels like an eternity, class wraps up as students shuffle out of the lecture hall. You and Jimin gather your things, falling into step like clockwork, until you reach the point where your paths diverge.

"Yoongi's waiting." Jimin singsongs with a smile, fingers already flying across his phone, no doubt texting his boyfriend. "You literally saw him this morning." You tease, but there's no real bite to it. "And I'll see him tonight. And tomorrow. And forever." Jimin says sassily like he's rubbing it on your face. 

Yoongi, Jimin's beloved boyfriend is a music composition major, and they've been in a relationship for as long as you can remember. They moved in together a few months ago, and though they practically breathe the same air from dawn to dusk, Jimin is still giddy every time Yoongi's name rolls off his tongue. 

Like he's tasting sugar. Like it's new, every single day. 

It's nauseating, really. But... God, you adore it so much because you want that. You want that so badly it aches.

The kind of love that seeps into every corner of a life. 

Because beneath the curated facade... the effortless 'baddie' aesthetic you've crafted so carefully for your social feed, the glossy veneer of perfection, the sponsored posts with captions that take you twenty minutes to get just right, the flawless outfit, the perfect make up, beneath all of that, you're still just... a girl.

A girl who dreams of something gentle. A story that doesn't just make your heart race, but one that holds it. Cradles it. 

You'd had your fair share of relationships back in high school—though, looking back, you weren't even sure you could call them that anymore. They felt more like fleeting situationships, placeholders for something that never quite materialized. 

None of them had ever left you feeling full, like you'd found what you were looking for. 

The guys were either maddeningly nonchalant, treating you like an option rather than a choice, or they messed up in ways that left fractures too deep to overlook—texting other girls behind your back, swiping through dating apps while still feeding you lines about how much they liked you. 

Some didn't approve of the way you carried yourself, the way you dressed, the way you took up space so unapologetically. And instead of embracing you for you, they tried to mold you into something smaller, something easier—something you were never meant to be.

It was like you were always almost there, almost close to something real, but every time, it slipped right through your fingers because no one ever quite aligned with what you thought love should feel like—the kind you'd dreamed of, the kind you still believed was out there.

A love that feels like stepping into the warmth of home after a long day. A love where they peel oranges for you, open a pomegranate for you, or perhaps shell pistachios just so your fingertips don't hurt. 

It's something simple, something almost unnoticed, yet it's there as a quiet proof that they care, that they'd do those little things for you, just because.

Built not on grand gestures, but in the smallest details... like bringing you coffee with your order memorized perfectly, playlists made on lazy sunday afternoons titled with inside jokes only the two of you would understand, the way their arms hold you not just when you're breaking, but simply because you're there. Because they want you close, always.

The kind of love that wraps around you like a blanket, never asking you to be anything other than who you truly are. Something that feels like you were always meant to find each other, like the universe stitched your souls together long before you even met.

A love that makes "forever" feel less like a promise and more like a certainty, like no matter what happens, no matter how hard the world pushes or pulls, you'll always end up back in each other's arms because you're just... stuck together, but not in the way that feels like a trap but in the way that feels like home. 

You've always wanted that. Something like that. And maybe one day, you'll have it. You'd like to believe so.

When you started college, you found yourself investing more into yourself...your style, your confidence, the way you carried yourself through the world. You became your own priority, and it showed. Not just on your meticulously curated social media, but in real life too. 

People noticed—especially guys. They approached you constantly. Some with that awkward, endearing charm, asking for your number or trying to secure a date. Others? Not so much. Your DMs became a war zone... filled with weird, borderline unhinged messages that made you cringe so hard you had to physically put your phone down sometimes. 

Most times, it was a reply to a thirst trap—one that, to be fair, was strictly meant for the girls—yet there's always some random guy trying to shoot his shot or it's a string of desperate comments flooding in, all vying for your attention.

But you knew, deep down, that if you were ever going to meet your soulmate, it sure as hell wouldn't be through a sloppy DM or a thirst-driven comment.

You shake off the thought with a small sigh as you continue walking while the sun hangs low, casting a warm, golden hue over the pavement. The evening breeze is warm as you near your building. 

The minute you unlock the door to your apartment, the familiar sight of Jungkook's sneakers neatly lined up by the doorway makes you smile, signaling he's already home. 

And when you walk further in, you instantly sense him in the kitchen. You carelessly drop your bag onto the couch and drag yourself towards the kitchen, resting your elbows on the island as you watch him by the stove, cooking.

"Oh, hey." He smiles, once he notices your presence. "You're home."

You smile back, moving around the island as you inch closer to him and hop onto the counter, a little away from the stove. "What're you making?" you ask, peering at the dish curiously. It's obvious he's making jajangmyeon—but you want to hear it from him anyway.

"Jajangmyeon." he answers, his lips curling into a small smile. "How was class?"

"Same old." you sigh, swinging your legs lazily over the edge of the counter. He nods at your words, his attention drifting back to the food.

"Also!" you suddenly exclaim, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Kook, your tikok—the one I posted last week—it hit a million views!! Look, you're famous!!!" You shove your phone in his direction, practically vibrating with excitement.

Jungkook's eyes widen in shock, his hands instinctively reaching out to hold your phone, bringing it closer for a better look. "One... One million views?" he stammers, utterly dumbfounded.

Jungkook doesn't even have a tiktok account. Social media was never really his thing, but he kept Instagram around mainly for the reels... the kind that catered perfectly to his inner nerd. 

His algorithm had him in a chokehold, feeding him everything from bizarre mating facts about deep-sea squids to oddly soothing videos of people assembling custom-built mechanical keyboards. Sometimes, it was a guy 3D-printing a fully functional wrench that looked like it could survive a whole trip to Mars.

And, well, he followed you too. 

So, amidst all that nerdy and geeky stuff...your stories, your pictures, your reels (that occasionally included him ofc) were his absolute favorites. But that's a conversation for another time.

He rarely posted anything about himself so it was safe to say his social media presence was practically nonexistent. 

Well... that was until you came along. Because, apparently—duh—he's internet famous now?? The fact that one million people had seen his face was nothing short of mind-boggling.

"Read the comments. Everyone's gushing over you." you laugh, and Jungkook scrolls through the barrage of responses.

"Soft boy aesthetic but he looks like he's seconds from passing out?? #needTHAT"  "Tell him rent is FREE if he stands in my kitchen looking nervous."  "Protect him at all costs."  "I'd give him my kidney"

Jungkook doesn't even know what half of these mean, but he can feel his ears growing hotter by the second. 

"Some of them are crazy, but they're so right. You do look cute." you giggle, looking over at him. At that, Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm... cute?" he asks, as if he misheard you. "Yeah, you're so cute." you nod, a smile spreading across your face, and Jungkook gulps. 

The way you say it so casually, with that pretty smile of yours... god he's so fucking cooked.

"You think... I'm cute?" he asks again as he adjusts his glasses, just to make sure he heard you right. "Duhhh, Kook. Haven't I established that already? You're like the cutest guy I know." you say, your smile widening with every word.

Jungkook swears his whole system just came to a screeching halt. The girl who caught his eyes on the 2nd day of orientation, the girl who he was convinced was miles out of his league, the girl who somehow, magically, became his roommate, the girl of his dreams thinks... he's cute. 

She thinks he's cute.

It's like his mind just short-circuited and it's enough to leave him speechless. He wonders if you know the effect you or your words have on him and all he can do is just stare at you in utter disbelief.

"This calls for a celebration!!" you suddenly declare, hopping off the counter and striding towards the refrigerator. Jungkook blinks, still processing the whole 'You're like the cutest guy I know' thing as he watches you yank open the fridge and pull out two bottles of soju.

Of course. 

He should've seen this coming the moment you made a beeline for the fridge. He's lived with you long enough to know that your version of a celebration involves downing shot after shot until the living room magically transforms into a karaoke room, and you're belting out some sappy '80s love song like your life depends on it.

But he still smiles because the sheer, unfiltered happiness on your face as you clutch the two bottles of soju close to your chest and pull out two shot glasses from the cabinet above, makes his heart do that thing again.

That stupid thing. Where it feels like it's going to burst.

"PUTTTT YOURRRR HEADDDD ONNN MYYY—" A cough cuts through your performance, but you soldier on, determined. "MYYYY SHHHOULDDERRR!"

Jungkook winces slightly, squinting as your voice pierces through the room, raising goosebumps on his skin—not the good kind. 

Now he might be hopelessly, head over heels for you, but for the love of all things holy, you cannot sing. He's convinced that when the universe was crafting you, perfection in every way, it must've thrown this one flaw in, just to keep things fair.

That's what he tells himself anyway as he makes his way over, watching your drunk self standing on the coffee table like it's your stage as you clutch onto the TV remote like it's a microphone.

"Okay, Y/n..." he murmurs, voice soft, hands hovering at your waist, ready to steady you if your balance falters. "I think that's enough for tonight. It's almost 2 a.m. You've got an early class tomorrow, remember?" he tries but you're still going on.

He shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he gently pries the makeshift microphone from your grasp. "Come on." he coaxes, guiding you down from your precarious perch. 

You mumble a string of complaints, the words tangled together in your tipsiness, nearly tripping over your own feet.  But Jungkook's right there, strong and steady, his arm slipping around your waist, holding you up like he always does.

With careful steps, he leads you to your room, the door creaking open as you lean into him, your cheek brushing against his shoulder. You're humming now...some incoherent melody, but he's used to this. 

He's taken care of you like this more times than he can count. And if he's being honest, he doesn't mind. Not one bit. Because even now, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol and your eyelids heavy with sleep, he thinks you look unfairly pretty. 

"Here we go." he whispers, lowering you onto the middle of your bed. You groan in protest, wriggling like a petulant child as he tries to pull the blanket over you. He can see it—the exhaustion you're fighting so hard to push away just because you want to keep this night going.

"Kookie... I don't wanna sleep yetttt." you whine, your voice muffled against the pillow. He only smiles, his heart doing that ridiculous thing again... tightening and swelling all at once, as he tucks you in with gentle hands.

"Kookieee..." you draw out his name again, pouting this time, but he stands on business, adjusting the blanket around you. "Kookie, come onnn..." You try one last time, your fingers curling around his wrist, tugging weakly. "At least stay with me until I sleep. Pleaseeeee?"

And just like that, he's done for because, if Jungkook's being honest, when it comes to you, his resistance has the structural integrity of a wet tissue paper. So, with a soft defeated sigh, he straightens up.

"Okay, fine. I'll stay." he murmurs, already eyeing the chair by your desk in the corner, thinking he'll just drag it over and sit by your side until you drift off. It's what he usually does on nights like this... close enough to soothe you but keeping a bit of space, because, well... boundaries.

But apparently, you have other plans because before he can even take a step towards the chair, your hand shoots out as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you yank him with a surprising force for someone who, mere seconds ago, could barely stand.

It's clumsy and sudden. His balance tips, heart lurching for a split second, and then before he can even process it, he lands right next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

"That's better." you sigh tiredly still holding his wrist as you nuzzle into the pillow and inch just a little closer to Jungkook's warm body. 

Jungkook knows you don't even realize what you're doing, that you'll probably have no memory of this tomorrow but his heart doesn't seem to care about any of that. It's racing like he's just run a marathon, each thud echoing in his ears as he stares at the ceiling with wide eyes. Because, this? This, he definitely did not see coming.

He lies there, stiff as a board, every muscle tense, trying to will his heart into calming down. Minutes pass... though they feel like hours, before he finally works up the courage to glance over at you.

You're still. Eyes closed, breathing soft and even.

Asleep.

He exhales slowly, relief and something else... something dangerously close to disappointment washing over him. 

But this is his chance to finally get up and put some distance between his rapidly deteriorating heart rate and your sleeping form. Because, honestly? Being this close to you is doing things to him and he might actually be on the verge of a cardiac event.

Carefully, he lifts his hand, fingers moving to gently untangle yours from his wrist. But the moment he tries, you let out a small, sleepy whine and your grip tightens instinctively.

Okay. So, not asleep.

Jungkook freezes, hand hovering midair, before letting out the quietest, most defeated sigh known to man. Fine. He'll stay. Just until you fall asleep completely.

How hard can that be?

"Mmm... flowers...? Why does it smell like flowers? Am I... dreaming of a garden?" Jungkook's half-asleep mind stirs, thoughts weaving through the haze of slumber as his sleepy imagination spirals, picturing himself twirling through a meadow, maybe exchanging pleasantries with a particularly charming sunflower.

But the scent isn't fading... it's getting stronger. And it's getting too real.

Then, something soft brushes against his nose, making him twitch. He scrunches his face, trying to escape it, but the gentle tickling continues and suddenly the feeling of something warm and solid pressed against his chest hits him. 

And that's when his eyelids flutter open, pupils adjusting to the faint morning light, only to be met with a cascade of hair. 

Your hair. All over his face.

As realization settles over him like a crashing wave, Jungkook's eyes trail downward... and that's when he sees it. His arm, draped snugly around your waist. His hand resting against the soft fabric of your shirt. Your lower bodies pressed flush together, tangled under the sheets like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook's jaw practically unhinges.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

Did he actually fall asleep last night? Fuck. He was only supposed to stay until you drifted off—not fall asleep with you. But that's not even the real problem right now because... did he really fall asleep like this? Holding you? Spooning you? His brain short-circuits, running frantic laps between sheer panic and the undeniable warmth pooling in his chest.

And just when he's still in the middle of processing this ridiculous situation, you shift, pushing back into him, your body pressing even closer, and Jungkook's breath hitches sharply in his throat. His jaw clenches, lips pursing just enough to swallow down the pained noise threatening to escape.

God, you were too close. Too fucking close. 

And his body? Yeah, it's reacting. Predictably. Involuntarily. In a way that makes him want to fling himself into the sun.

He screws his eyes shut, mentally begging for divine intervention or at the very least, for you to stay asleep. Because if you wake up right now and find him like this? In your bed? Spooning you? With that pressing against you?

There's no explanation in the universe that could get him out of this one. No amount of stammering or panicked rambling could justify the very obvious, very mortifying problem currently happening beneath the covers.

Because Jungkook knows this isn't just his usual morning wood. In fact, this has very little to do with the morning and everything to do with you... and your ass currently pressed against him.

It's almost like his body made an executive decision to completely betray him the second you leaned back into him, and now he's left here... stiff in more ways than one, praying to every higher power that you stay asleep.

He knows he can't stay here any longer. Not like this. Because if we're being honest, this is toeing the line of violating all kinds of boundaries, and Jungkook respects you far too much to risk that. The most practical, the most decent thing to do is to slip away quietly before you wake up and find him in this compromising position.

So, with painstaking caution, he begins to move. He peels the covers back just enough, carefully untangling his arm from around your waist and this time, thankfully, you remain in your deep slumber, no sleepy whine of protest like last night.

He exhales a low sigh of relief when he finally pushes himself off the bed, standing up straight. His heart is still racing, but at least he's free. He spares a glance back to find you still curled on your side, blissfully unaware of his internal crisis and then he glances at the clock—there's still a little over an hour before your morning class. 

Perfect. 

Enough time to retreat to his room, take a cold shower (because, God, does he need one), and then start making breakfast. That way, by the time you wake up, everything will look perfectly normal. Like he had the most uneventful, innocent night ever.

So, he steps out of your room, making a swift retreat to his own and then storms into the bathroom, strips off his clothes and steps into the shower. He sighs softly, letting the water rush down his body letting it drown out the chaotic rhythm his heart has adopted ever since he woke up. 

By the time he's dressed in a fresh set of clothes, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, he finally feels somewhat normal again... like his body and mind have called a temporary truce.

But that fragile calm nearly shatters when he opens the door and spots you standing by the fridge, chugging a bottle of water.

"Oh, hey." you croak, lowering the bottle when you notice him. Your voice is thick with sleep, scratchy, and with the way you squint your eyes against the morning light, Jungkook knows the hangover is hitting you hard.

"Just whyyyy did you let me drink so much last night?" you whine, shoving the bottle back into the fridge. 

By the way you're acting, it's obvious you have no idea what happened last night or this morning... how Jungkook woke up with his arm wrapped around you. Spooning you. With... other complications involved.

Jungkook forces a chuckle, a wave of relief washing over him as he quickly regains his composure. "I tried to stop you, but I gave up when you went back for the fourth bottle like a woman on a mission." he teases, gesturing towards the battlefield that is your living room, with empty soju bottles scattered across the floor like war casualties.

"I have class in an hour, and I swear my head is splitting open." You groan, pressing your fingertips to your temples. Jungkook smiles softly, already moving towards the mess to start cleaning up. He would've done it last night, but, well—things had taken a different turn.

"Why don't you freshen up? I'll make you some soup." he offers and you pause, leaning against the island as you watch him bend down to pick up the bottles. 

You've lost count of how many times Jungkook has cleaned up after you, nursed your hangovers, made you breakfast, made sure you were okay. He's like an angel in disguise, you think. And you have no idea how he hasn't gotten tired of you yet.

"Thank you, Kook. Seriously..." you say, voice softer this time, laced with sincerity. He glances up, pausing his movements just to give you one of those warm smiles, the kind that always makes your heart feel full. "Anytime." he says simply.

With that, you shuffle off to your room to get ready for the day. By the time you're out the door, stomach full of warm soup, your headache is nothing but a distant memory. And it's all because of your amazing roommate.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Taehyung's voice slices through the quiet hum of the library, pulling Jungkook's scattered thoughts away from the screen in front of him. For the last thirty minutes, he'd been attempting to focus on the leetcode assessment in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, all that's occupying his mind is you. 

He just can't seem to stop thinking about you... how you called him cute last night, how you leaned into him when you were tipsy, the scent of you hair, how warm and soft you felt pressed against him this morning. 

Jungkook clears his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and quickly brings his focus back onto the screen, eyes darting across the lines of code, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if trying to will himself into action. But it's no use.

"Yeah... I just... I was just trying to figure this code out." he lies, forcing the words out as smoothly as possible. But Taehyung, ever the perceptive one, doesn't buy it even for a second. He leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes, clearly not convinced. "It's Y/n again, isn't it?" he raises an eyebrow.

Taehyung was one of the first friends Jungkook made at university. They shared the same major, and if Jungkook was being honest with himself, he liked to think of them as kindred spirits. Of course, calling them similar might be a bit of a stretch, but it was safe to say they were the same person, just in different fonts.

For starters, they both shared the same nerdy interests... coding, anime, and all things geeky, but when it came to personality, they were worlds apart. 

Unlike Jungkook, Taehyung was bright, outgoing, and confident. He had this infectious charisma that seemed to draw people in effortlessly, and on top of that, he was also the star player of the university's soccer team. 

It was Taehyung who first approached Jungkook for a paired assignment at the start of the first semester, and that's how their friendship began to form. Over time, they grew close, and now, after spending so much time together, Taehyung had become well aware of Jungkook's deep feelings for you... something Jungkook had reluctantly confessed after a lot of prodding.

Taehyung was, unfortunately, very good at getting people to open up, and Jungkook was no exception. He could be annoyingly persistent when it came to matters of the heart.

"No." Jungkook scoffs, but Taehyung, ever the observant one, immediately catches the bright red hue creeping up his ears. A grin spreads across Taehyung's face as he leans in, elbowing Jungkook. "Come on, tell me what happened now?" he prods as usual.

"Nothing, Tae. Leave me alone and focus on your work." Jungkook mutters, his tone flat, hoping to brush the conversation aside.

Taehyung, however, isn't so easily deterred. "Hey, come on, is it really that bad? I just want to know how things are going with your roommate." he says, with a pout. "You know, the roommate you're so hopelessly in love with." he adds with a smirk.

Jungkook throws a sharp glare at him. "Watch your mouth." he warns, though a part of him knows Taehyung is only doing this to get a rise out of him. 

"Honestly..." Taehyung starts again, resting his chin on his hand. "I don't know how you do it. Living in the same house with the girl you've liked since the very first time you saw her, all while concealing your very real romantic feelings for her...." He pauses, giving Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. 

"That is not for the weak, Kook. You're just built different because seriously I would have combusted by now."

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the screen, fingers tapping the keys though he's barely processing what he's typing. "It's not that easy." he says casually, trying to brush off the weight of the conversation. 

"It's... kind of sickening sometimes, you know? Being under the same roof with her.. seeing her every day... and knowing I'm probably nowhere near her league..." He sighs, meeting Taehyung's gaze again, an almost resigned look in his eyes.

Taehyung's playful expression softens and he leans in a little, lowering his voice. "Hey... don't do that. Don't sell yourself short." His words are gentle but firm. 

"I'm pretty sure Y/n isn't the kind of person who cares about stuff like 'leagues.' And honestly, that whole idea? It's bullshit. No one's out of anyone's league, Kook. Relationships aren't about rankings. They're all about connection. About how you make each other feel."

Jungkook's fingers slow to a stop, his eyes flicking towards Taehyung, searching for something—reassurance, maybe. "If you're genuine, if you care about her the way I know you do, that's what matters. It's not about being the 'best' or 'coolest' guy. It's about being the right person for her.

Jungkook inhales slowly, carefully absorbing Taehyung's words. Maybe he's right. Maybe everything Jungkook has built up in his mind... the leagues, the what-ifs, the invisible walls, maybe they're all just ghosts of his own making.

But still... that gnawing insecurity, the self-doubt that's burrowed so deeply into his chest, it clings to him like a second skin. 

Because, god, he wants it. He wants everything with you. He wants to hold your hand, wants to hold you close.  He wants to do all the little things for you, the ones that might seem trivial to someone else but mean everything to him. 

Like making you your favorite breakfast, folding your laundry because you forgot again, or fixing your ring light when it flickers out right before you film. 

He always wants to be the one you pull into your silly tiktok dances or the one you use as a human swatch palette, drawing streaks of lip stains and eyeshadow along his arm for as long as you please.

He wants to be there—not just as a passing presence—but a constant. Someone you can always rely on, someone who always brightens your day, someone who always feels like home.

But wanting and having—they still feel like two entirely different worlds.

And the thought of losing what little he already has with you... the impromptu friendship, the effortless laughter, the quiet comfort of existing in the same apartment, it terrifies him.

So, he stays where he is. Close, but not too close. Wanting, but never reaching. Because taking that first step feels like standing on the edge of a cliff—one wrong move, and everything could come crashing down.

"Alright, everyone. It's that time of the semester again—time to talk about your upcoming research paper on macroeconomic market trends." Mr. Jang, your eccentric yet strangely endearing macroeconomics professor, announces just as the lecture is nearing its end.

His words send a collective groan rippling through the lecture hall as heads drop onto desks, pens clatter, and someone even mutters a dramatic "Nooo..." like they're being sent to war.

Beside you, Jimin lets out an exaggerated huff, slumping down in his seat like he's just been personally victimized. "Just take me out now. This is where I die." he mutters under his breath. You sigh, nodding in solidarity. "Literally, same."

"You'll be working in pairs." Mr. Jang continues, unfazed by the chorus of complaints. At that, the mood shifts and a subtle spark of hope lights up the room. Pair work is always better than slogging through a solo paper.

People immediately start throwing side glances at their friends, silent pacts being made through nods and raised brows. You and Jimin exchange the same look. It's obvious—you're a team. You've been surviving Mr. Jang's chaotic assignments together for multiple semesters now, and besides, you barely know anyone else in this massive lecture hall.

But then, just as people are settling into the relief of pre-determined partnerships, Mr. Jang's voice cuts through again like a dagger. "But... I'm feeling a little adventurous this time." he grins and a new wave of dread passes over the room. Everyone knows exactly where this is going.

"I'm all about broadening horizons, getting you guys out of your comfort zones. So... I've decided to switch things up. You won't be picking your own partners." he says and the collective mood plummets again and some students visibly deflate in their seats.

Mr. Jang grins, clearly enjoying this far too much. "I've made a list of the pairs myself, and I'll be emailing it to you all by this evening." 

Jimin lets out a suffering groan. "Like this couldn't possibly get any worse." he says and you nod, just as disappointed. The last thing you want is to be paired with some random person in class who either has no clue what's going on or is just impossible to coordinate with.

You've always been the kind of person who loves making new friends, striking up conversations with strangers, and weaving your way into different social circles with ease. But when it came to assignments? That was a different story. You'd rather stick with your best friend, Jimin or at least someone you know, because there's always a silent understanding of each other's work styles. 

No awkward debates over who would do what, no last-minute panicing because someone forgot their part. You just knew how to get things done, efficiently and without the headache.

"Alright, settle down!" Mr. Jang claps his hands to regain control as the students continue to protest. "Once you get your partner, I expect you to reach out, collaborate, and submit the assignment by the end of next month. That's two whole weeks before the finals, so that should be plenty of time, right?"

A few half-hearted nods follow, but it's clear most people are already bracing themselves for the impending awkward small talk and the inevitable "So... uh, how do you wanna do this?" conversation.

"Good. I expect great things from you guys. Class dismissed!"

As you gather your things, Jimin leans in, his voice thick with impending doom. "I swear to god, if I end up with someone who does nothing, and I have to write the entire paper myself... just know, this might actually be my end." 

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you chuckle. "I'll put flowers on your grave." you joke, giving him a wink. "Make sure it's daisies, please." he shoots back as he follows you out of the lecture hall.

The warm afternoon sun greets you as you step out of the building, its golden rays spilling over the campus like honey. You walk beside Jimin, already caught up in some random conversation but it doesn't take long before you hear your name being called— all high-pitched and excited. 

You glance up to see a group of girls waving at you from across the courtyard, their smiles as bright as the sun. You know them, or at least you know their usernames because they're the same ones who're always flooding your comment section every time you post, hyping up your nails, your outfits, asking for makeup links, or DMing you to say you "ate" and left no crumbs.

You giggle and wave back just as enthusiastically, earning a chorus of delighted squeals in return.

Jimin clicks his tongue beside you. "Oh god. Here we go. Ms. Influenza. Ms. Campus Celebrity. Ms. 'Get Ready With Me for my 8 AM Lecture.'—"

"Don't start." you cut him off, laughing.

"I'm just saying..." he holds his hands up, grinning. "Should I get my camera out? You wanna do a quick fit check? Maybe we should go live—'Hey guys, just walking across campus, breathing oxygen, being gorgeous.'"

You swat at his arm, making him snort.

"You're just mad because no one's ever asked you where you got your jeans from." you quip and Jimin gasps, clutching his chest like you've struck him. "Excuse you, these are vintage—thrifted with love. For all we know, the previous owner died in them. Their ghost is probably hovering around right now, deeply offended by your slander."

You snort, but he's on a roll. "And, for your kind information, not everyone can pull off thrifted cargo pants also—what is that? A baby tee? Are you auditioning for Bratz: The Resurrection?"

You gasp dramatically, hand flying to your chest. "It's called style, Jimin."

"Right, right. My apologies, Ms. Vogue."

You both burst out laughing, as you continue walking, ready to head home. You pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling, until you suddenly realize what day it is today. "Shit." you mutter under your breath.

Jimin's head whips towards you, immediately on high alert. "What? Did someone comment some weird shit again? Is this about that guy who said he'd drink your bathwater?"

You freeze, turning to him slowly, face twisted in horror. "Chim, why the hell would you remind me of that?" 

"Hey, I'm traumatized too, okay ??"

You shake your head, trying to banish the cursed memory. "No, it's not that. It's just... it's grocery shopping day."

You and Jungkook have this little system where you both take turns grocery shopping and keep the cabinets and fridge stocked with all the essentials. He had tried to convince you, more than once, that he could handle it every time, but you wouldn't let him. 

After all, you were roommates and it was only fair the responsibility was shared equally. And since he made the last trip, it obviously means it's your turn now. 

"Wanna accompany me??" You glance at Jimin, hopeful and he doesn't even hesitate. "Girl, you're on your own." he says. "Besides, I've got plans with Yoongi." he adds after a beat, making you roll your eyes. 

"Come onnn, you see that man every hour of the day." you groan, throwing your head back, exasperated. "All I'm asking for is one measly trip to the grocery store."

You shift your stance as you loop your arms around his, giving him your most pleading pout, paired with fluttering lashes, hoping it might be enough to convince him. But all your best friend does is look at you with disgust. "Girl, you can literally go with your roommate." he shoots back, unfazed.

"Come on, Chim, you know we take turns grocery shopping. He went last time, so I have to go this time, I have no choice but I don't wanna go alone. So come with me pleeeeaseeee." You drag out the last word, hoping your puppy-dog eyes will seal the deal.

Jimin groans, exasperated with a disgusted look but let's out a resigned sigh as he pulls his arm out of your grip. "Ugh, fine." he relents and his expression changes almost immediately. "But let's go with Yoongi. He can drive us there. You know, in his new car." he adds, already getting giddy at the mention of his boyfriend.

It's your turn to give him the disgusted look now, but you know walking to the store is a far less appealing option and third-wheeling the insufferable couple is a little price you'll have to pay for convenience.

Jungkook rises from the couch the moment he hears the front door creak open. His eyes immediately land on you, followed closely by Jimin and Yoongi, each of you juggling oversized bags filled to the brim with groceries.

"Oh, hey Kook." you exhale, slipping off your shoes. "Hey, JK." Jimin offers a bright smile, while Yoongi gives a small, acknowledging nod as the three of you shuffle inside the apartment. 

"Today was grocery shopping day?" Jungkook asks, his gaze softening as he steps forward, instinctively relieving you of the heavy bag in your hand, his fingers brushing faintly against yours, before you can even nod. 

Jimin and Yoongi exchange a knowing glance, trying to hold back their smiles, before making their way towards the kitchen island. "Yeah, so I had these two help me out." you answer following them as they set the bags down and Jungkook follows suit. 

"You know what happened today, JK?" Jimin suddenly begins, and you immediately roll your eyes, already knowing where this is headed. "Come on Chim, you're overacting" you sigh, moving towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 

Jungkook blinks, slightly confused as he looks at Jimin. "What happened?" he questions softly. 

"We were supposed to be done with grocery shopping an hour ago, okay? But this one—" Jimin pauses to accusingly jab a finger in your direction "—decided to go on a quest for Twinkies."

"Twinkies?" Jungkook tilts his head. That's his favorite snack. 

"Yeah, Twinkies." Jimin echoes, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "They weren't in any of the aisles, and you know what she did?" he pauses again, his lips twitching.

"She caused a full-blown search operation in the store. Had half the staff combing through the shelves like we were looking for some buried treasure." he explains animatedly.

"And then—get this—someone finally dug them out from the stockroom in the back." Jimin finishes while Yoongi leans against the island, watching his boyfriend with a fond smile, as if Jimin's exaggerated storytelling is the most adorable thing in the word. 

Well, though Jimin was being his usual overdramatic self—spinning the story more for entertainment than accuracy—there was still truth in his words. 

You knew exactly how much Jungkook loved Twinkies. He hadn't exactly made a big deal out of it, but you remembered, because he'd casually mentioned once, in a passing conversation that Twinkies were his comfort snack. 

It was a small, fleeting detail, but it had stuck with you and since then, every time it was your turn to handle the groceries, you made it a point to grab a pack—sometimes even three—just to see that contented smile grace his cute face when he found them in the pantry.

And today was no different. Well, maybe just a little because you'd had to put in some extra effort—scour the aisles, rally a few employees, and stir up more commotion than you intended—but in the end, you got them. Because it was for Jungkook. 

"I literally just asked if they had more in stock." you defend yourself as you close the fridge and cross your arms. "Oh, please." Jimin scoffs, though there's no real heat behind his words.

"Come on, baby." Yoongi chimes in. "You know she just wanted to get the Twinkies because Jungkook likes them." he says. "Yeah, like, forgive me for trying to get his favorite snack." you shrug, a light laugh escaping.

"I get that." Jimin concedes with a sigh, though his eyes are still playful. "But was it really necessary to rally the entire staff? You were going, 'No, I need the Twinkies. Jungkook loves Twinkies. I'm not leaving until I get the Twinkies.' Like, girl I'm sure he would've survived a day without them." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Why even go to such lengths for Twinkies of all things?" he continues, exasperated and you simply smile at him, shrugging. "Just because."

Jimin stares at you, utterly unimpressed. "Just because?" he echoes, looking personally offended. "You dragged us through an entire covert operation just because?"

You laugh at that and Yoongi joins in too, but Jungkook only half-hears the rest of the banter because all he can think about is... You did that? All of that... for him?

The grocery trip took longer, not because you were being difficult, but because you cared. You cared enough to hunt down his favorite snack—Twinkies, of all things—like it actually mattered.

He swallows, feeling an unexpected lump in his throat. It's such a small gesture, something others might dismiss as trivial. But for fuck's sake, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He feels all tingly, almost giddy, because you really went out of your way, just for him, just for his silly little Twinkies. 

Soon enough, Yoongi and Jimin bid their goodbyes, slipping out the door and you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile. "I swear, Jimin's so annoying." you shake your head, though the fondness in your voice betrays any real annoyance.

Jungkook chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he follows you into the living room. "Yeah, but he's still your best friend." he says making you playfully roll your eyes. 

"Anyways, I'm gonna be in my room. Need to film this tiktok for some skincare brand." you sigh, already mentally preparing yourself for the ordeal and Jungkook nods, leaning lazily against the couch. "What do you wanna do for dinner? Takeout?" he asks. 

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. "Yeah, takeout sounds good to me." you agree and he gives a thumbs-up, pushing off the couch to head towards his own room. But just as your hand wraps around your door knob, his voice gently calls out to you. "Y/n."

You hum in response, turning to find him standing by his door. His eyes are warm and his expression is softer than usual, almost tender. There's a brief pause before he opens his mouth. "Thanks for getting me the Twinkies." he says.

His words catch you off guard and you can't help but laugh, though it's more bashful than anything. "I swear, Jimin was just being so overdramatic. It's really not that big of a deal, Kook. I'll always get you Twinkies." you say, shaking your head and trying to brush it off, though the way Jungkook's gaze lingers on you makes your heart flutter just a little.

"Anyways, let me know when you're ordering the food, okay?" you say softly after a beat and before he can respond, you slip into your room, closing the door behind you. And as you lean back against it for a brief moment, a small smile tugs at your lips because somehow, a simple thank you from Jungkook feels like the sweetest thing you've heard all day.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. You reach for it, already anticipating the email notification that greets you. 

Sure enough, it's from Mr. Jang, subject line unmistakable—his list of partners for the assignment. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the familiar sense of dread settling in as you brace yourself for the inevitable revelation. 

You swipe to open the email, preparing for whatever name awaits you on the other side, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

"So, who's your partner?" Jimin questions, sliding into his usual spot beside you. "Some guy named... Jaehyun?" you answer, unsure. "Jaehyun?" Jimin echoes, trying to see if the name sparks any recognition, but nothing comes to mind. 

This class is so huge that it's nearly impossible to keep track of everyone's name and face.

"Yeah, I have no clue who he is." you say, shrugging. "Anyways, who's yours?" you ask and Jimin's grin widens. "It's Namjoon."

You gasp. Namjoon—the genius of the class, the one whose name you've heard so many times that it's become a staple in your memory. That explains why you recognize his name and face in this sea of unfamiliar ones.

"You lucky bastard." you say, shaking your head. "I know, right?" Jimin leans back, practically glowing with excitement. "Being partners with Namjoon means that an A is already in the bag."

You exhale a resigned sigh, because all you can do right now is only hope that this Jaehyun guy is someone kind and easy to work with but before you can get further lost in your thoughts, a voice interrupts. 

"Hey."

You and Jimin both look up to see a man standing in front of your desk with his gaze fixed on you. You blink, wondering what he wants. You've seen him around class a few times, but you genuinely have no idea who he is.

"Hi...?" you say, unsure, and the man chuckles softly, quickly realizing that you don't recognize him. "I'm Jaehyun... You're Y/n, right?" His tone is steady, and that's when it clicks, He's your partner for the assignment. 

"Oh hey! Sorry, I'm just so bad with names and faces." you giggle sheepishly as you stand up. "It's alright." Jaehyun replies with a reassuring smile. 

"Anyways..." he continues. "Since we're working on the assignment together, I just wanted to know how you'd like to start." His voice is calm and serious, and the sincerity in his tone brings an odd sense of relief because he sounds like someone who actually cares about the work.

"Oh, um..." you pause for a second, thinking. You know that most people prefer working in the library or just doing it remotely over video calls. But you'd prefer a more personal, comfortable setting, a place where both of you can freely share your ideas and thoughts without feeling rushed.

"We can start working on it at my place... it's near the campus." you suggest. "But if you have any other preferen—"

"Your place sounds fine." Jaehyun interjects with a smile and you nod at his words. "Here's my number." he says, sliding a small piece of paper on your desk. "Text me the address."

Before you can respond, the professor strides into the room, commanding everyone's attention. The casual chatter across the lecture hall dissolves into the rustling of notebooks and the scraping of chairs as people rush to their seats.

"I'll catch you later, yeah?" Jaehyun says smoothly, flashing you one last smile before turning on his heel. 

You offer a polite smile back, but the moment he's out of earshot, Jimin leans in, exhaling dramatically like he's just witnessed a divine apparition. "Wow. That is one good-looking man." His eyes are wide with faux awe, clutching his chest like he's been personally affected.

You snort, giving him a pointed look. "Bro, you literally have a boyfriend." you deadpan, narrowing your eyes playfully and Jimin gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "What, I can't admire God's work? Yoongi would understand." He winks, and you roll your eyes, fighting back a laugh.

But honestly? Jaehyun's face is the last thing on your mind right now. Looks mean nothing if he turns out to be unreliable.

At this point, all you care about is getting this assignment done. As long as he's easy to communicate with and doesn't disappear off the face of the earth when deadlines hit, you'll be more than satisfied.

Jungkook is perched on the couch, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stares intently at the ridiculously huge 17x17 rubik's cube in his hands. He's been trying to solve this for a month now, with no tutorials or help, and he's starting to wonder if he's just too dumb for it.

Each twist feels like it could either be a small victory or an impending catastrophe, and the stakes couldn't feel higher. Every so often, he flicks his wrist or makes some bizarre hand motion that only he understands, like he's performing a ritual to appease the rubik's cube gods.

But just as he's about to make a breakthrough, the doorbell rings, and Jungkook hisses in frustration, as if the universe itself is conspiring to distract him. He reluctantly places the cube on the coffee table, and just as he starts to rise from the couch to answer the door, you're already darting towards it.

He sits back down, wondering if it's just one of those PR package deliveries again and brings his focus back on the cube. But his concentration flickers and dies the moment he hears a deep and unfamiliar voice floating in from the doorway.

"Come on in." he hears you say and Jungkook's head snaps up, curiosity prickling at his chest as he cranes his neck towards the entrance. 

He's expecting maybe a delivery guy asking for a signature, or one of your friends like Jimin or someone, dropping by to gossip, but instead, he sees you stepping inside with someone unknown trailing closely behind you.

The guy is tall and lean, with a backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder, moving with that effortless kind of charm and the moment he steps in, his gaze sweeps over the room, before landing on Jungkook on the couch. 

There's a flicker of something in his eyes but it shifts almost immediately to the oversized rubik's cube sitting on the coffee table and Jungkook is quick to notice the way the guy's lips twitch, pressing together like he's clearly holding something back.

"Oh, Kook! This is Jaehyun." you say when your eyes catch his from across the room. You gesture back at the guy, who offers a lopsided smile. "We're working on an assignment together."

Jungkook blinks, scrambling for a response, but his tongue feels annoyingly slow. "Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, a little too confident. There's a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, subtle but it's definitely there—the kind that's easy to miss if you aren't looking closely but the thing is, Jungkook is looking closely.

And for some reason, it rubs him the wrong way.

He's no stranger to you bringing study or assignment partners home—it's normal, part of your routine. He's done the same, though every time it feels like he's navigating social quicksand, stumbling through small talk and hoping the other person doesn't pick up on his awkwardness.

Still, he stands, out of habit more than anything, flashing a small, awkward smile. "Hey."

Jaehyun exhales a soft, amused huff, like he's holding back a laugh, and Jungkook can't tell if it's just his usual demeanor or if there's something else laced beneath it. Something condescending. But before Jungkook can figure it out, you're already moving.

"Anyways, we'll be in my room, okay?" you inform him with a quick smile, not waiting for a reply as you lead Jaehyun down the hall and before Jungkook can muster a response, the door to your room clicks shut.

He drops back onto the couch, the rubik's cube long forgotten on the coffee table. 

There's this thing—this gut feeling people talk about. This instinct, this unspoken warning system buried deep in your subconscious. Sometimes it's a tightening in your chest, a sudden shift in your pulse, or just a quiet, nagging whisper at the back of your mind, hinting at something your conscious brain hasn't quite caught up to yet. 

It's primal, wired into human nature... the kind of feeling that makes you hesitate before stepping into the dark, or glance over your shoulder without knowing why.

And right now, that very feeling is sinking its teeth into Jungkook.

He can't explain it, can't put his finger on a single, tangible reason, but something about Jaehyun, his eyes, his stance, the way he carries himself—feels... off.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a way he could call out without sounding ridiculous.

He runs a hand through his hair, shaking it off. Maybe he's overthinking it. Maybe he's just being protective... or worse, maybe he's being jealous.

But his gut is still whispering.

And Jungkook's learned not to ignore that.

Surprisingly—and to your great relief—Jaehyun turns out to be an easygoing and cooperative partner. The last hour has been spent deep in discussion, bouncing ideas off each other, sifting through potential research topics, and, somehow, it doesn't feel suffocating.

Jaehyun listens attentively, considers your inputs, and offers his own without steamrolling over yours. It's honestly refreshing.

"So, I guess this is it, then." you say, nodding in satisfaction once the final topic is settled. Jaehyun mirrors your nod, a small grin playing at his lips. "Didn't peg Miss Popular as the type to actually lock in when it comes to assignments." he teases.

You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "Excuse you, I take my academic life very seriously."

"Oh yeah?" He tilts his head. "So if I check your screen time right now, I won't find an ungodly number of hours spent on tiktok and Instagram?"

"First of all...." you say, pointing a finger at him. "That's classified information. Second of all, it's kind of like my job at this point."

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. "Right, right. Job."

You roll your eyes but can't help but chuckle along.

"Anyways..." he leans back in his chair. "How'd you even get into this whole content creation thing?"

You know you should probably steer the conversation back to the assignment, but honestly? You don't mind. Jaehyun seems reliable enough, and besides, a little break never hurt anyone.

"Well...." you start, a little sheepishly, "I was a Vine kid." you say but before you can continue Jaehyun's eyes widen in an instant. "Wait, Vine? As in, six-second goldmine Vine? The superior app?"

"You know about Vine too ?!??!" You gasp, placing a hand over your heart again. "Oh my god. I thought I was alone in this cruel world."

Jaehyun scoffs. "Are you kidding? I lived on that app. To this day, I still quote Vines like it's a second language."

"No, because same." You lean forward, suddenly excited. "Like, I can't go one day without referencing 'It is Wednesday, my dudes—'"

Jaehyun, without missing a beat, throws his head back and screams. "AAAAAAAAH."

(A/N: SORRY GUYSFGJERHG, I WAS A VINE KID—I JUST HAAAD TOOOO. anyways, if you don't get the reference, check this link out hehe)

You burst out laughing, slamming your hand on your desk. "Oh my god. A fellow Vine scholar."

"Finally." he sighs dramatically. "Someone who understands."

You shake your head, still chuckling. "But yeah, I used to make Vines of my own too—though we are not going to talk about that." You cringe at the memory, suppressing a shudder. "So that's where my whole content creation passion came from. Except now, my content is more... I don't know, just stuff I actually enjoy doing." You shrug, and Jaehyun nods in understanding.

"I follow you on tiktok, by the way." He grins, tilting his head slightly. "And I gotta say, your content's pretty fire."

"Oh, really?" You smirk, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Then tell me—what eyeshadow palette did I review in my last video?" You cross your arms, arching a brow because you know damn well your content isn't exactly tailored for a guy like Jaehyun. But teasing him is too tempting to resist.

Jaehyun groans, throwing his head back. "Hey, come on, don't do me like that." he protests, laughing. "I was talking about your other stuff—like your random vlogs, your outfit checks, oh, um—your little roommate series."

"Ah, yes." You nod. "The roommate series' main star was the poor soul you saw in the living room earlier." You giggle, thinking of Jungkook's stiff face every time your camera is in his personal space. "He's my little unpaid intern." You grin, and Jaehyun laughs along.

"Yeah, I noticed. He's on your page a lot." Jaehyun muses, eyes narrowing slightly like he's piecing something together. "I've been wondering though... How do you even convince him to join in? He seems like the... shy type."

You giggle, leaning back into your chair. "Oh, he is shy—painfully so. But..." your voice softens, "He's also the sweetest person you'll ever meet. Never complains. Even when I make him do the dumbest skits, he just goes along with it." A fond smile tugs at your lips.

Before Jaehyun can respond, his phone buzzes. He checks it quickly, before letting out a breath. "Ah, looks like I gotta head out." he says and you nod understandingly. He stands and you follow suit as he slings his backpack over his shoulder in one fluid motion. "Cool, we'll see each other again..." you start.

"Day after tomorrow." Jaehyun finishes with a small smile, and you nod.

"Right. See you then." And with that, he walks out.

Once the door clicks shut behind Jaehyun, you linger for a moment before stepping further into the living room and your gaze naturally falls on the oversized rubik's cube, still half-solved on the coffee table and you wonder what Jungkook's up to right now.

And just then, it's the soft, rapid staccato of mouse and keyboard clicks that draws your attention, so you make your way towards Jungkook's room and as expected, he's there— perched at his desk, headset on, eyes locked onto the screen, fingers moving furiously as he navigates through his Minecraft world. 

You inch closer. "Hey." you call, giving his shoulder a gentle poke. Jungkook jumps slightly, wide eyes snapping to you as he hurriedly pulls off his headset. "Oh—hey." he breathes out, his voice tinged with the faintest trace of surprise.

His eyes flicker past you, towards the door, and for a brief moment he wonders if Jaehyun's  gone. You don't notice it, but Jungkook's chest eases a little when he realizes the guy's probably left.

He won't admit it out aloud, but the only reason he'd abandoned his rubik's cube and holed himself up in his room with the volume cranked up on his game, was to drown out the sound of your laughter echoing from behind the closed door of your bedroom.

He'd told himself not to think too much about it, but the longer he sat there, the more the warmth in your voice with Jaehyun grated against something he couldn't quite name. So, he'd escaped, to blocks and biomes, anything to block it out.

"What do you want for dinner?" you ask. "I was thinking... ramen?"

"Ramen... yeah, ramen sounds good." He nods, already starting to push himself up from his chair, ready to help. But you wave him off with a soft laugh. "Hey, I've got this. You can keep playing. I'll handle the ramen." you assure him, already turning towards the door to leave.

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, because he always wants to help out, but you're gone before he can.

He stays there, watching the spot where you stood for a beat longer than he needs to, before sinking back into his chair. The Minecraft screen flickers at him, but his focus is elsewhere as his fingers hover over the keys.

That gut feeling... the one that first crept in when Jaehyun walked through the door, still stubbornly sits heavy in his chest. But Jungkook exhales, shaking his head as if to clear it. It's not that deep.

He's just an assignment partner, after all.

Right?

Days drift by, and Jaehyun's visits have grown more frequent—so frequent that his presence has begun to settle into the corners of your shared apartment like it belongs there.

Jungkook has started to notice things—small, seemingly insignificant at first, but they begin to pile up like pebbles forming a mountain he can't ignore.

It's hard to miss how comfortable you've grown with Jaehyun. There's an ease to the way your laughter bubbles up at his jokes, the way your hand instinctively swats at his arm or chest when he teases you. It's playful—sure—but it leaves Jungkook with a faint, inexplicable unease.

He tries to brush it off. He really does.

Most days, he sees you both working, heads bent together over your laptops, furrowed brows, quiet discussions filling the living room or your bedroom. There's a seriousness to the project that he can't deny, especially in you because Jungkook knows how dedicated you are when it comes to assignments and projects.

But even then, Jaehyun has a way of slipping in like tossing a joke here or a teasing comment there and suddenly, the air visibly shifts. The work pauses and laughter spills out.

And then there are moments—moments like yesterday—that cling to Jungkook's memory like a thorn.

He had walked in to see Jaehyun playfully locking you in a loose headlock while you laughed, elbowing him in the stomach to break free, but the sight lodged itself in Jungkook's chest like a stone.

It was harmless, he told himself. Just friends messing around. But it was the details that lingered—the way Jaehyun's grin stretched wide, the way your laughter rang unrestrained, the way you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. The way you didn't seem to mind him being so close.

And then there's the other thing. The part that unsettles Jungkook the most.

The look.

Every time Jaehyun is over, he throws a look at Jungkook and he instantly catches it. A look, which is fleeting but definitely intentional. The kind that seems casual on the surface but holds an undercurrent of something else. Something off.

It's not an open challenge, not exactly. Nor is it the the casual acknowledgment guys sometimes exchange to break the ice. It's subtler, more calculated... like Jaehyun's sizing him up, or worse, like he already knows something Jungkook doesn't.

It's the kind of look that worms under his skin.

The kind that feels like someone is quietly staking a claim on something you thought was yours.

And Jungkook hates it. He hates the way it's taking root inside him, how it makes his chest tighten and his jaw clench. He hates that he cares this much. That he even feels like he has something to lose.

But no matter how much he tries to rationalize it, how many times he tells himself he's imagining it... that gut feeling, that unrelenting instinct—remains.

Something about Jaehyun just doesn't sit right.

Right now, Jungkook remains perched on the edge of the kitchen island, one hand resting on the cool surface while the other hovers over his laptop's trackpad. He's trying—really trying—to stay focused on the test flashing across his screen, some tedious but necessary module assessment that's part of his course requirements.

But he can hear your voice, and Jaehyun's, drifting from your room nearby like an unwelcome undercurrent. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to drown it out. He knows it's nothing, knows that you're just working on your project. But the sound gets under his skin anyway.

A few minutes pass before he hears the creak of your door opening, followed by footsteps padding down the hallway. Within seconds, Jaehyun appears—tall frame moving with that easy confidence that's begun to grate on Jungkook's nerves. His eyes sweep the room lazily before landing on Jungkook.

"Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, almost dismissive, and there's something in the way his gaze flicks over Jungkook that feels vaguely patronizing. Like he's acknowledging him out of obligation, not respect. Like he's the one who lives here and Jungkook's the guest. 

Jungkook forces a nod in acknowledgment, fingers tightening around his laptop. Without waiting for a response, Jaehyun strolls past him, straight to the fridge. "Just grabbing some water." he mutters over his shoulder—like he's entitled to whatever's in there.

Jungkook says nothing, eyes flicking back to his screen. He taps his keyboard, more out of habit than intent, willing himself to tune it all out.

The cap of the water bottle twists open with a soft crack, followed by the sound of Jaehyun taking a long sip. Then he moves closer... almost too close, positioning himself beside the island, his body leaning in ever so slightly as he peers at Jungkook's screen.

"What you up to, man?" he asks, voice still light but carrying that underlying tone, like he already knows whatever Jungkook's doing is probably boring. Probably beneath him.

Jungkook stiffens, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He can feel Jaehyun's eyes trailing over his laptop screen, taking in the lines of code and multiple-choice questions.

"It's just a test. Course requirement." Jungkook mutters, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Ahhh... you're a computer science major, right?" His tone is laced with curiosity, but not the genuine kind. It's the kind that holds the faintest trace of mockery. The kind that makes you feel like you need to justify yourself.

Jungkook nods, curtly. "Yeah."

Jaehyun lets out a low, drawn-out whistle, followed by a chuckle. "Damn. Computer science, huh? That's... intense." He laughs before taking another sip of his water, the bottle crinkling slightly under his grip. "Must be tough. All those... codes and... what? Algorithms?" He gestures lazily towards the screen, eyes narrowing.

Jungkook doesn't like the way he says it—like it's a joke, like it's something trivial. Like Jungkook's effort is something to be amused by. "Yeah. Algorithms." he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, though he can feel his patience thinning.

Jaehyun leans in a little, his shadow creeping over the laptop screen. He squints at the test, eyes skimming over the technical jargon as though he's deciphering it, though Jungkook doubts he understands much of it.

"Man... that looks brutal. Don't know how you guys do it. I'd probably lose my mind staring at that stuff all day." He laughs, but it's laced with something condescending, like he's making it clear that he wouldn't waste his time on something so tedious.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek.

"Guess you gotta be built different for that whole... nerd life, huh?" Jaehyun adds, smirking as he takes another sip.

Jungkook forces a tight smile, but his fingers tighten against the edge of his laptop. He feels the implication of it—the way Jaehyun's not just making conversation. He's dissecting him. Testing him. Seeing what gets a reaction. Measuring him up like he's weighing his worth and already finding him lacking.

Jungkook breathes slowly through his nose, fighting the urge to snap back. He's not going to give Jaehyun that satisfaction. Instead, he shifts slightly in his seat, subtly angling his screen away.

"Yeah." he says flatly. "Guess you do."

Jaehyun lingers a moment longer, like he's waiting for more—like he's hoping for a crack to show. But when none comes, he finally steps back, draining the rest of his water.

"Respect, man. Couldn't be me." He the proceeds to clap Jungkook on the shoulder—harder than necessary, his hand lingering for just a second too long before he pulls away. There's something weird about the gesture, like he's asserting dominance.

Then he steps back, water bottle still in hand, eyes sweeping over Jungkook one last time like he's taking stock—cataloging him, filing him away under less than. Like he's already decided he's better.

"You keep doing your thing, though." Jaehyun adds, voice dripping with false encouragement. "The nerd life's gotta pay off someday, right?" He laughs, turning on his heel, and before Jungkook can respond, he's already strolling back towards your room.

Jungkook stares at his laptop screen, but the words blur into a mess of symbols and frustration. His chest tightens with a mix of anger and something closer to humiliation.

Jaehyun knew exactly what he was doing.

And it worked.

Jungkook forces himself to return his focus to the screen. There's no reason—no logical reason—why he should let a guy like Jaehyun get under his skin and make him feel bad about himself—his major, his choices, or anything else for that matter.

He knows exactly the kind of guy Jaehyun is.

The kind who carries himself like he's untouchable, like he's a step ahead of everyone else. The kind who doesn't even have to say it outright to make you feel like you're somehow beneath him.

Guys like Jaehyun think they're on another level... effortlessly charismatic, naturally better, always in control. And maybe, for the most part, they are. But Jungkook refuses to be another person who feeds into that delusion.

So he brushes it off, squares his shoulders, tightens his grip on his laptop, and forces his attention back to his test.

Nearly half an hour passes.

He's managed to focus, even if it took effort, even if his brain kept replaying snippets of the earlier conversation in the background. But then, the sound of your bedroom door opening breaks his concentration again.

This time, it's you walking out first, your laptop tucked under one arm. Jaehyun follows a few seconds later, slinging his backpack over one shoulder with the ease of someone who doesn't have a single worry in the world.

"So, now that we have enough data collected on consumer spending trends across different income brackets, we should start working on the outline of the paper by next week." you say, your voice casual but firm as you lead Jaehyun towards the door.

Jungkook glances up just in time to catch the usual faint smirk Jaehyun throws his way. The same smug, knowing look that makes his skin prickle. Still, as usual, Jungkook ignores it, his fingers tightening against the laptop's edge as he looks back at his screen.

As you reach the doorway, Jaehyun continues to nod at your words. "Cool." he mumbles, proceeding to slip into his shoes. He straightens up as his fingers adjust the strap of his backpack.

He turns around, ready to leave, but suddenly, his hand reaches for the doorknob but stops midway, and you, noticing the pause, tilt your head slightly in question. "Everything good, Jae?" you ask.

Jaehyun turns around, a sheepish smile creeping onto his lips, like something just occurred to him. "Oh, um..." He rubs the back of his neck, playing it off casually. "I was just wondering... it's pretty late, so do you maybe wanna grab dinner together?"

Jungkook, still perched at the kitchen island, picks up on the sudden question instantly and his fingers halt over the keyboard. His back stiffens but his eyes remain fixed on the screen as he waits for you to respond.

"Dinner?" You echo, blinking as though you need a second to let it register. "Oh... yeah, dinner sounds good." you say with a small nod.

Jaehyun's lips twitch into a subtle grin—an almost imperceptible curve of victory, like he's already claimed what he was after. But before he can solidify his win, before he can turn that small triumph into something more, you cut through it with your gentle, unaffected voice.

"Let me ask Kook to join us too!" you chirp, turning back towards the living room without a second thought. "Wouldn't want him to cook alone, you know?"

Jaehyun freezes for half a beat, blinking as the easy confidence slips just slightly from his face. That? That was not what he had in mind.

He was envisioning something different... just the two of you, a quiet dinner where he could lean in close and talk, make you laugh, maybe inch his way into something more. What he wasn't expecting was for you to bring your nerdy roommate along.

Jungkook, from his place in the apartment, hears the shuffle of your feet as you approach him, and he already knows what's coming. He knows you so well. Knew you'd never leave him behind.

For a moment, he lets himself exhale, the knot that had been coiling in his chest loosening just a little. He had braced himself for the possibility of you heading out alone with Jaehyun, braced for the discomfort, the overthinking that would haunt him for the rest of the night.

But you, being you, the sweet angel that you are, would obviously never leave him behind. And that thought, even if it's just for dinner, makes him feel all giddy.

He can already picture the mild irritation on Jaehyun's face. The guy's probably seething behind that polite mask, regretting ever asking in the first place. That thought alone tugs a subtle smirk onto Jungkook's lips... small and barely noticeable, but it's still there nonetheless.

"Kook, me and Jaehyun are going to grab dinner. Wanna come with?" You say it so casually, so sweetly, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like his presence would only make the evening better.

So, who the hell is he to say no to that? Not when you're looking at him like that—eyes sparkling like stardust, lips curled into that soft, pretty smile that feels like it was made just for him. Like you hung the moon without even trying.

And sure, on any other night, he'd probably hate the thought of sitting through a meal with a stranger, especially someone like Jaehyun, but tonight? Tonight, he wants nothing more than to tag along and be there.

Even if it means enduring Jaehyun's smugness. Even if it means biting his tongue until his jaw aches. Even if it means sitting through forced conversations and subtle digs, pretending not to notice the way Jaehyun acts like he's beneath him or whatever. 

Because in the end, being there with you, will always outweigh all of that.

Jaehyun clenches his fists at his sides, as he struggles to maintain the polite, easy-going smile he's perfected over time. It's taking every ounce of self-restraint not to let his irritation seep through as he watches you animatedly chatter about some random show, while your arm remains casually looped around Jungkook's.

Not only does he have to tolerate the presence of this insufferable nerd, but he also has to witness the two of you nestled so comfortably together? This was definitely not the kind of evening he was looking forward to.

Jungkook, on the other hand, barely registers Jaehyun's existence anymore.

He's too caught up in you—smiling to himself as he listens to your endless rambling, the kind that always veers off into tangents, hopping from plot twists to character arcs, and somehow looping back to an inside joke only the two of you understand.

He's so absorbed, so content, that he's forgotten Jaehyun is even trailing along beside you.

"Oh! There's the diner!" you suddenly exclaim, your eyes lighting up as you point towards the familiar spot, the little place you and Jungkook have frequented on countless lazy nights when cooking felt like too much work.

"Let's go." Jaehyun forces out with a nod, plastering on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He trails behind as you tug Jungkook forward, still holding onto his arm, leaving Jaehyun feeling like the third wheel he never expected to be.

When you step into the diner, you and Jungkook instinctively drift towards your usual table by the window, the one that's practically become yours over time and Jaehyun trails behind, his eyes briefly scanning the place before settling on the two of you.

"You guys get comfortable—I'll go place the order." you chime, your voice light with excitement as Jungkook nods, taking a seat. "Me and Kook are getting our usual burgers... what about you, Jaehyun?" you ask, your smile bright.

Jaehyun shifts in his seat, lowering himself across from Jungkook. "Oh... yeah, I guess I'll have the burger too." he replies, attempting casualness. "Perfect!" you beam, giving a little thumbs-up before turning on your heel and heading towards the counter.

Jungkook and Jaehyun sit face to face, the absence of your warmth leaving a tangible void between them, like the air itself cools the second you step away.

Jungkook has never been good at eye contact; it's always made him feel exposed, like someone could see right through him. But this time, he forces himself to hold Jaehyun's gaze. It's not confidence, it's defiance.

A quiet, stubborn refusal to let Jaehyun think he holds any power here. That his presence, his smirks, his calculated little victories, could ever rattle him.

Jaehyun leans back slightly, arms crossing over his chest, eyes narrowing just the faintest bit. He lets out a breathy scoff and neither of them say a word, but the tension hums louder than any conversation could.

Their eyes lock like two opposing forces testing the limits of the space they share. It's almost childish, this silent standoff, but they're both not willing to be the first to look away. It's as though they're shooting invisible lasers through their pupils, measuring each other in the quietest, most passive-aggressive battle known to man.

"Here we go..." you sing-song, balancing a tray with three burgers and a generous side of fries as you make your way back to the table. You're blissfully unaware of the silent warzone you're about to walk into.

Both Jungkook and Jaehyun immediately snap out of their intense, wordless staring contest, their gazes shifting to you with something alarmingly close to desperation. The air between them, once brimming with unspoken rivalry, pauses, suspended by a single, all-important question.

Where are you going to sit?

There's an empty spot beside each of them, and for a brief second, they're both holding their breaths, like their entire evening depends on this one moment. It's ridiculous, really, two grown men waiting like nervous schoolboys to see which side you'll choose, as though your choice is about to crown the evening's winner.

You place the tray on the table, eyes flitting between the two empty seats as if you're carefully weighing your options.

Truthfully, you're not.

Your phone’s battery is barely hanging on, and the seat beside Jaehyun just so happens to be the closest to the charging socket—that’s all there is to it.

 You need your phone to keep up with your little ritual of posting an Instagram story of your meal, something you’ve done every time you visit this diner. And since you forgot to bring your power bank, the charging socket is your only saving grace.

So when you step towards the chair next to Jaehyun, he shifts slightly, trying to mask his triumph under the guise of casual nonchalance.

He raises a hand to his mouth, rubbing at his jaw and the subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who, watches the scene unfold from across the table, already mentally preparing himself for an evening of internal suffering.

But when you pull out the chair—you pause.

Your nose scrunches, eyes narrowing as you spot a faint, dried-up glob of what looks suspiciously like mayo crusted onto the edge of the seat. It's small, barely noticeable, but enough to make you grimace.

"Hey, Jae... would you mind shifting there?" you question, pointing to the seat next to Jungkook.

Both men freeze.

Jaehyun's smirk drops so fast it's almost audible, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief while Jungkook's brows flick upwards in surprise, mouth parting slightly before he schools his face back into something neutral, though the barely-there twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him.

This... this was not the outcome either of them had prepared for, but it's safe to say Jungkook's partly satisfied.

Jaehyun however, hesitates, like he's considering protesting, but you quickly flash him that sheepish, apologetic grin, the one that makes it impossible to say no to you. "I'm so sorry... This seat's a little dirty plus I really need to charge my phone, and the socket's right here." you explain, pointing to the outlet on the wall.

Jaehyun forces out a tight smile. "Yeah, of course... No problem." he says, standing up to move to the other seat, landing next to Jungkook with the enthusiasm of someone being sentenced to life in prison.

You flash him a sweet, oblivious smile before finally settling into the seat and plugging in your charger with a small, satisfied hum.

Soon enough, the meal is underway. Conversation flows easily—well, mostly between you and Jaehyun. The two of you chat about random classes and how brutal last week's quiz was, nothing too deep, but enough to make Jungkook feel like a third wheel at a study date he never agreed to.

He picks at his fries, half-listening, half-zoning out, until suddenly, you burst into laughter—loud and unfiltered, the kind that makes your eyes squeeze shut and your hand fly up to cover your mouth and it jolts Jungkook back into the present. 

His gaze flicks to you instantly because when you laugh like that, everything else just fades. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes crinkled at the corners, that light, breathless giggle spilling out like music.

And dammit, Jaehyun, out of all people, is the one who made you laugh and somehow, that realization makes Jungkook bites into his burger a little too aggressive, like it personally offended him.

"No, but seriously..." Jaehyun continues, fighting back his own laughter. "First week of college, right? I'm at this super boring seminar. Room's packed. Everyone's dead silent and the professor's giving this whole speech about the meaning of existence or whatever—like, proper 'stare into the void' kinda stuff."

Jungkook has no idea where this is going, and even though he doesn't particularly want to care, he still listens. Because, seriously, what could possibly be so funny?

"But I was bored out of my mind, right? So, I sneak out my phone—'cause obviously, I'd rather watch something on my phone than spiral into an existential crisis." Jaehyun says and you giggle, nodding along, fully invested.

"But guess what? My phone's on full volume. And out of nowhere—like, cutting through all this profound silence, it goes: 'HURRICANE KATRINA? MORE LIKE HURRICANE TORTILLA!'"

(vine reference link)

You absolutely lose it, slapping the table as laughter erupts from you. "STOP—NOT HURRICANE TORTILLA—" you wheeze, clutching your stomach.

Jungkook pauses mid-chew, eyes narrowing slightly as he wonders what the hell is a... hurricane tortilla? He glances between you two, trying to decode what exactly has you guys dying.

Jaehyun keeps going. "The professor stops talking and the whole room just goes... dead silent and everyone's looking at me like I just committed a crime while I'm just sitting there like—'welp, guess I'll drop out.'"

"I—oh my god—I can't—'hurricane tortilla'—I'm actually cryinggg." you gasp between fits of laughter, wiping at the tears gathering in your eyes. Jungkook just blinks, utterly lost. He leans in slightly, brows furrowed. "...What's a hurricane tortilla?"

Jaehyun's head snaps towards him, eyes widening with exaggerated disbelief. "No way. You're joking, right?" He lets out a sharp laugh, dripping with condescension. "Y/n, you're telling me you live with this uncultured man who doesn't know what a hurricane tortilla is?"

You don't dignify Jaehyun's snide remark with a response. Instead, you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile, the kind that instantly disarms him. Your eyes hold nothing but warmth, no trace of ridicule.

You know he doesn't keep up with this kind of stuff, and that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

"Oh, Kook." you murmur. "It's just a vine. Remember? Those short, funny videos I showed you? Like six seconds long?"

Jungkook's expression softens as the memory washes over him. Of course, he remembers.

That afternoon on the couch, when you had excitedly told him you wanted to show him some "vines". Truthfully, he hadn't really gotten most of them. Some flew right over his head, and he barely found them funny. But he'd never admit it aloud because, honestly, it was never about the vines.

It was about you. The way you had curled up beside him, so close that your shoulder pressed into his while your bright laughter spilled freely, like music that played just for him. The way you'd nudge him with your elbow whenever you found something extremely funny, your pretty eyes crinkling with joy as if inviting him to share in that happiness.

He remembers how his heart raced more from the warmth of your thigh brushing against his than from anything on the screen. How every time you leaned in, laughing so hard you could barely breathe, felt like he could drown completely in the sound of it and never come up for air.

And most of all, he remembers how he didn't want it to end. 

How he could've stayed there, just like that, for hours—watching videos that barely made any sense to him, but that's okay, because getting to hear you laugh like that was all that truly mattered. 

"Yeah... I remember." he says after a beat, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah so, the hurricane tortilla thing? It's just from one of those." you explain, still sweet, still patient, like you're always willing to meet him where he's at.

Eventually, you all wrap up at the diner and step out. The tension between Jungkook and Jaehyun still remains unnoticed by you while they exchange subtle glares, every few minutes, each one laced with unspoken rivalry.

"So, I guess we'll head back now." you say, standing on the pavement with your hands inside your pockets, protecting yourself from the night breeze. Jaehyun gives Jungkook one last look, a brief, pointed glance that's more challenge than farewell, before turning to you with a smile.

And then, without warning, he steps forward, arms looping around you in an embrace. It catches you off guard, but you don't hesitate to return the hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders with ease, though there's a flicker of surprise in your eyes.

Jungkook, on the other hand, stiffens. His jaw tightens, fists curling at his sides as he watches Jaehyun's arms settle a little too comfortably around your waist. It's not just the hug that gets to him—it's the way Jaehyun looks at him over your shoulder, a smug, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Like he's winning.

And maybe he is. At least, that's what it feels like to Jungkook in that moment.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow." Jaehyun breathes out as he pulls away, his hand lingering a second too long on your waist. You nod, smiling, completely unaware of the silent battle that's just taken place right behind your back.

"See you around, dude." Jaehyun adds, tossing Jungkook a dismissive nod before turning on his heel and strolling away with all the confidence of someone who thinks he's just claimed victory.

Jungkook exhales slowly, forcing his fists to uncurl at his sides, trying to tame the little green goblin of jealousy that a single hug has so effortlessly stirred to life.

"Let's go, Kook?" Your gentle voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He blinks, looking at you, your eyes bright under the streetlights and his silly little heart stumbles over itself as usual. "I—uhh... yeah. Of course." he stammers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The night air is cool, wrapping around you in a gentle breeze as the streets hum with distant traffic. Neon shop signs flicker, casting fleeting shades of color onto the pavement as you and Jungkook walk side by side.

You let out a satisfied hum, rubbing a hand over your stomach. "I swear, I'm never getting tired of that diner." you giggle, and Jungkook glances at you, the corners of his lips curling up. "I think at this point, they should just name a booth after you." he teases.

You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "That would be the dream, honestly. But it's not just me, you know? You've been there as much as I have. So I guess we both deserve a picture on the wall that says Most Loyal Customers of the Decade."

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head. "That would be nice, I guess." he says sheepishly.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment before you stretch your arms over your head. "Honestly, I'm glad I was able to make Jae try it out." you add casually, glancing at Jungkook and he nods, but his smile dims just slightly.

Maybe it's the way Jaehyun has so easily made his way into this conversation, or maybe it's the casual way you use his nickname... whatever it is, it makes Jungkook's stomach churn in a way he doesn't particularly like.

Plus, the uneasy thoughts have been there for a while, lurking in the back of his mind, but he's always pushed it away. Tonight, though, it feels impossible to ignore. He suddenly wants to know what you really think about Jaehyun—wants to know if you see what he sees or if you're just oblivious to the way Jaehyun acts around you or the way he acts around Jungkook.

Jungkook exhales quietly, debating whether he should even say anything. But before he can stop himself, the words slip out. "So this... Jaehyun guy..." he starts, voice careful, like he's weighing each word before releasing it. You glance at him, curious. "Yeah?"

Jungkook hesitates for a second too long, his gaze fixed ahead as if avoiding your eyes will make this easier. "You guys have gotten pretty close lately." he says, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Oh, yeah..." You nod, swaying slightly as you walk. "Ever since we became partners for that assignment, we've been hanging out a lot. I mean, it's not anything too deep. It's just... our vibes match, you know?"

Vibes match.

Jungkook draws in a long inhale, his fists tightening inside his pockets. He wonders if his vibe has ever matched yours. You've lived together for so long... have spent late nights talking on the couch, have shared countless meals, have fallen into a rhythm so natural it almost feels like breathing.

But have you ever thought about it like that? Have you ever thought your vibes batch? Yours and His?

You're everything he's not and if Jaehyun's vibe matches yours, then where exactly does that leave Jungkook?

"He's funny." you continue, lips curving into a small smile. "And he gets my humor."

Jungkook hums at that, but the sound comes out a little sharper than he intended. He knows Jaehyun makes you laugh, he's seen it firsthand. Loud, breathless laughter that makes your eyes crinkle, the kind that shakes your whole body.

"But..." Jungkook exhales slowly, trying to sound casual even though the words feel like they're getting stuck on the way out. "I mean... I've noticed he's gotten really... comfortable around you."

He doesn't even know where he's going with this. He just knows it's been bothering him, gnawing at him like an itch he can't scratch. You blink, tilting your head. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, feeling utterly, painfully awkward. He wants to drop it, but at the same time, he doesn't.

"Like... like how he is at the apartment." he says, forcing the words out. "He just... makes himself at home. Like, he sits on the couch like it's his. He raids the fridge. He—" Jungkook stops himself, brows furrowing. "He acts like he lives there."

You let out a soft laugh, but not in a way that makes him feel dismissed. "Ah, yeah, that's just how he is." you say with a small shrug. Jungkook presses his lips together, the unease still sitting heavy in his chest.

"But what's wrong?" you ask, your voice gentler now, sensing there's more to this than what he's saying. "Does he make you uncomfortable?" You tilt your head, genuine concern etched in your features.

"No... um, no, nothing like that." he denies way too quickly. "I was just wondering if you're comfortable with how he is." He turns it back on you. You smile at that. "Oh, Kook, were you worried about me?" you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Yeah... you... you could say that." His ears burn, and he wishes his mouth would just shut up. "I was just wondering about your dynamic, that's all." he adds, trying to sound nonchalant and you blink at him, amused. 

"Our dynamic?"

Jungkook nods stiffly.

"Like I said, our vibes match." you repeat. "But again, he's just my assignment partner, you know? He's nice to work with and joke around with."

Jungkook nods along, forcing himself to absorb your words, to let them settle the gnawing feeling inside him.

"But if he makes you uncomfortable at the apartment, then I can just go to his place for the assignment, you know? He did ask me to—"

"No !!" Jungkook blurts, way too fast, way too loud and your eyes widen for a brief second.

God, that would be worse. Having you go to Jaehyun's place, where Jungkook wouldn't be around, where he wouldn't know what was happening—where Jaehyun would have the liberty to do anything. That's not even the last thing Jungkook wants.

"No... I meant, he doesn't make me uncomfortable. So please..." He exhales shakily. "Please continue working at our apartment." He doesn't even try to hide the urgency in his voice making you laugh. "Okay, okay." you say, nodding your head. "But do tell me if you're uncomfortable, alright?"

Jungkook nods, lips pressing into a thin line as he watches you. 

You don't see it, don't see the way Jaehyun looks at you, don't see the way he treats Jungkook like an afterthought.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he's just overthinking. Maybe he's just being paranoid, reading too much into things that don't mean anything. Maybe it's all in his head. But the irritating, tormenting feeling remains like a dull, nagging weight in his chest that refuses to settle

It feels like something is lodged between his ribs, pressing against his lungs, making every breath feel just a little too tight.

Yet, he exhales slowly, shuts his eyes, and tells himself to let it go, to swallow all the weird thoughts and bury them somewhere they can’t reach him.

Jaehyun's just an assignment partner. 

Nothing more. Nothing deep.

part 2 -> (coming soon)

series masterlist

my masterlist <3

TAGLISTS CLOSED <333

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[heliosunny]

Your writing is just… unbelievable! You’re doing such a good job, I hope you know that and you’re taking care of yourself (and your wrists!!)

May I request, if it peaks your interest, Yandere!Mydei x Reader, but slow-decent yandere over time as Mydei gets more possessive of reader, who they met when reader and Mydei accidentally bumped into each other in the market place, causing his pomegranate juice to spill on her. She didn’t mind, even licks a bit off of her to taste it before leaving, and runs a trinket shop for people at the edge of the market!

My wrists are doing okay- ;3

CROSSED PATHS

Yandere!Mydei x Fem!Reader

Mydei walked through the market with the same disinterest he always carried, he was all too familiar with this place. He wasn’t here for anything in particular, just taking the usual route through the stalls, a wooden cup of pomegranate juice in hand. The deep red liquid sloshed slightly as he moved, but he paid it no mind.

Then, before he could sidestep, someone walked straight into him.

The collision wasn’t violent, but it was enough to jostle his cup, sending the juice spilling forward. The rich crimson liquid soaked into the tunic of the person in front of him.

“Tch” Mydei clicked his tongue, already annoyed. “You should watch where you’re going.”

Instead of irritation, you simply looked down at the stain, then back up at him. Without hesitation, you ran a finger along the droplets clinging to your skin, bringing it to your lips and licking it off.

“Mmm. That’s good” you mused, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You’ve got good taste.”

Mydei stared, silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but it certainly wasn’t that. Most people would be frustrated, flustered, or at least make some effort to clean up. Instead, you stood there, completely at ease, as if the spill was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

His gaze flickered to your clothes. “It’s ruined.”

You merely shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Gives me an excuse to close up early anyway.”

That caught his attention. “Close up?”

“I run a trinket shop. Just by the market’s edge.” You smiled, “Little things to catch the eye and heart.”

Mydei didn’t reply right away, just watching as you gave him a small wave and disappeared back into the crowd, as if this meeting was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

The next day, Mydei found himself walking toward the edge of the market, where the usual noise and crowd thinned out. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just something to do. Either way, he figured he’d at least take a look at the shop you mentioned.

When he arrived, however, the place was closed. The wooden sign hanging on the door was tilted slightly, as if it had been left that way in a hurry.

What was the point of bringing up a shop if she wasn’t even going to open it?

He exhaled through his nose, about to turn back and head home, when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

There you were, walking toward the shop with a slow, lazy pace, arms stretching over your head as you let out a deep yawn. You looked half-asleep, hair slightly messy, and completely unbothered by the fact that most stalls had already been open since morning.

Mydei frowned. “Isn’t it late to be opening now?”

You blinked at him, then glanced at the sky as if just realizing the time. “Mm. Guess so.” You rubbed at one eye before giving him a lopsided grin. “But hey, better late than never, right?”

He stared at you. “That’s a terrible mindset for business.”

You only chuckled, fishing out the key and unlocking the door with an easy shrug. “Maybe. But I open when I feel like it. I still get customers, so it works out.”

That… was the most carefree approach he’d ever heard. He didn’t know whether to call it ridiculous or strangely impressive.

Instead of arguing, he crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the nearby post. “So, do you actually sell anything useful, or is it all just cheap junk?”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. “How dare you.” Then you grinned. “You’ll just have to come inside and see for yourself.”

And for some reason, Mydei didn’t immediately walk away.

As you pushed open the shop door, the scent of old parchment, polished wood, and faint traces of incense drifted into the cool evening air. The interior was warm, lit by scattered lanterns that cast soft golden hues across shelves packed with trinkets—intricate carvings, delicate charms, aged coins, and strange little oddities that seemed to whisper of stories untold.

Mydei stepped in behind you, arms still crossed as his sharp eyes swept across the shop’s interior. He made a low noise in the back of his throat—half curiosity, half scrutiny. He reached for a small wooden carving of a beast with jeweled eyes, turning it in his hand. “You actually sell things worth looking at.”

You laughed, stretching lazily before stepping behind the counter. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

He huffed, setting the carving down before moving to another shelf. “Take it however you want.”

He studied everything with an almost calculated interest, fingers skimming over old coins, testing the weight of metal trinkets, and occasionally raising a brow at something that caught his attention. He wasn’t the type to be easily impressed, but you could tell he wasn’t just humoring you—he genuinely found the shop interesting, even if he didn’t outright say it.

“You actually know what you’re selling” he muttered, inspecting an engraved pendant. “Not just collecting junk and hoping people buy it.”

You leaned on the counter, resting your chin on your hand. “Of course. Every piece here has a story. That’s what makes them special.”

Mydei glanced at you briefly, as if considering something, but before he could speak, a voice cut through the quiet.

“Mydei!”

A man rushed into the shop, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the space before locking onto him. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere—” He paused, glancing between you and Mydei before continuing hurriedly. “There’s trouble. You’re needed now.”

Mydei clicked his tongue in irritation but didn’t hesitate. He turned to you, nodding once. “Guess I’ll have to finish looking around another time.”

You waved a hand dismissively, grinning. “Take your time. The shop isn’t going anywhere.”

Without another word, he strode past the man and out into the night, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

Five days had passed since Mydei had left in a rush, and in that time, life went on as usual. Your shop saw a steady stream of customers—travelers looking for charms, locals browsing out of habit, and the occasional collector intrigued by the more unique items you sold.

The place was lively today, filled with chatter and the occasional sound of trinkets clinking together as people picked them up and examined them. You were busy handling coins, giving a customer change, when a familiar figure stepped inside.

At first, you didn’t notice him. Mydei wasn’t the type to announce his presence, and he simply stood near the back, scanning the shelves with his usual unreadable expression. He blended in well, quiet and observant, though his presence carried a weight that would eventually demand attention.

It wasn’t until you turned, momentarily catching a glimpse of something unusual in the dim light, that you really saw him. A few stray leaves were nestled in his hair, likely from his journey back to town.

Without thinking, you moved toward him, reaching up on your toes to pluck the leaves away. “You’ve been out in the wild, huh?” you mused, brushing the last one from his shoulder.

He barely reacted, only arching a brow. “You didn’t even notice me walk in, and this is the first thing you do?”

You grinned. “Well, you weren’t exactly loud about it.”

Just as you stepped back, a child rushed past, bumping into you at full speed. You stumbled, thrown off balance, and for a brief moment, you thought you might crash straight into Mydei—until his hand caught your wrist, steadying you with ease.

“Careful”

You let out a short laugh, regaining your footing. “Thanks. You could’ve just let me fall, you know.”

“And let you take me down with you? No thanks.”

The day continued, and surprisingly, Mydei lingered. He leaned against a shelf, watching as you worked, occasionally glancing at the customers but never interfering. He had no reason to stay, yet he made no move to leave.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the last customer stepped out, you stretched with a sigh, locking up the shop for the night. “Didn’t think you’d stick around that long”

“It’s dangerous,” he replied simply, arms crossed. “Beasts have been spotted near town. You shouldn’t walk home alone.”

“Oh? And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he walked alongside you as you made your way home, the quiet hum of the night settling around you both. When you finally reached your door, he stopped a few steps away, watching as you unlocked it.

“This where you live?”

You nodded. “Yup. Cozy, isn’t it?”

He didn’t comment, only nodding slightly. “Stay inside at night.”

With that, he turned, disappearing into the shadows of the street.

You lingered for a moment, watching where he had gone before finally stepping inside. Something about him stuck with you, and despite his rough demeanor, you couldn’t help but smile.

The following days passed as usual. Customers came and went, some lingering to chat, others leaving with trinkets tucked away in their pockets. Yet, amidst the routine, you began to notice something—or rather, someone.

Mydei.

You never saw him enter the shop, nor did he ever buy anything, but you caught glimpses of him near the marketplace, often stationed in the same general area. He was never in armor, never dressed in anything that would mark him as a guard or knight, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made you wonder.

At first, you assumed it was coincidence. Maybe he just happened to be around. But as the days passed, you realized it was too frequent to be chance. He wasn’t a customer, yet he lingered. He wasn’t a merchant, yet he remained nearby. Still, you weren’t one to pry. If Mydei had business in the area, it wasn’t really your concern.

Then one evening, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, a group of men entered your shop.

You noticed them immediately—rough around the edges, their movements too casual, too calculated. They weren’t here to browse; their eyes weren’t on the merchandise. Instinctively, you stayed behind the counter, watching them with the same easy calm you always carried.

One of them stepped forward, idly picking up a small carved pendant. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks” you said.

He turned the pendant over in his hands before setting it back down. Another one looked toward the back of the shop as if expecting to find something—or someone.

That’s when you realized. They weren’t stealing. They were looking for someone.

Before you could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

“Took you idiots long enough.”

Mydei stood in the doorway. The men stiffened, immediately straightening like soldiers caught slacking off.

“Captain” one of them muttered under his breath.

Captain? Well. That explained a lot.

“Back to your posts” Mydei ordered, “Now.”

The men hesitated for only a moment before shuffling toward the exit, each one sending you a quick glance as if only now realizing their presence might have looked… suspicious.

Once they were gone, you turned back to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “So, Captain, huh?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t make a habit of announcing it.”

“You also don’t make a habit of staying in one place unless you have a reason.”

His gaze flickered toward you, unreadable. He didn’t confirm or deny it.

Instead, he only muttered, “They won’t bother you again.”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t really bothered to begin with.”

With a short nod, he turned to leave.

It was another evening at the market, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows as you prepared to close up shop. As usual, one of your friends—Edward, a vendor from a few stalls down—came by to help carry the heavier crates of unsold goods back inside. It had become routine by now, something neither of you thought much about.

“You really should hire someone for this” your friend teased, easily lifting a wooden box filled with carved trinkets. “One day, you’ll be stuck under a pile of your own stock.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “And ruin your chance to show off? I wouldn’t dare.”

The two of you worked smoothly, chatting about market gossip and the odd customers you had encountered that day. You didn’t notice Mydei at first, but he had been watching from a distance, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. He wasn’t even sure why he was still here. Yet, as he saw the easy familiarity between you and your friend—the way you smiled, the way they stood close—something in his chest tightened.

Before he could think twice, his body moved on its own.

He stepped in between you just as you reached for another crate, his hand easily grasping the handle before you could. “I’ll do it.”

“Mydei? Didn’t know you were in the business of heavy lifting.”

“You shouldn’t rely on random people.” He didn’t look at your friend, but the message was clear enough.

Your friend raised an amused brow but didn’t argue, instead watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled interest. “Not random” he pointed out, arms crossing. “I help all the time.”

Mydei didn’t respond. He simply hefted the crate as if it weighed nothing, walking into the shop with ease. You exchanged a glance with your friend, who smirked knowingly before waving you off and heading back to their own stall.

Once inside, you turned to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Didn’t take you for the helpful type.”

He placed the crate down with a little more force than necessary, expression unreadable. “You’re careless.”

You tilted your head. “How so?”

“Letting just anyone help you. You don’t know what their intentions are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re really that concerned?”

He scoffed but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced around the shop, as if checking for anything else to ‘help’ with.

Part of him wanted to say no—that it wasn’t concern, that he didn’t care. But the truth was, he did. More than he should.

“…Just be careful” he muttered at last.

You smiled. “Always am.”

The next day, the marketplace was bustling as usual, and you were busy sorting through a new batch of trinkets when Edward stopped by. It was nothing out of the ordinary—he often passed through to chat or lend a hand when he had the time.

“You’ve got something on your face” he said, leaning in slightly as he observed your face.

You blinked. “Huh? Oh.”

Before you could react, he carefully reached out, brushing the side of your face to remove whatever it was. The gesture was entirely innocent, but from an outside perspective—especially from a blocked or skewed angle—it might’ve looked a little different.

And unfortunately for Edward, Mydei happened to be that outside perspective.

From where he stood, partially obscured by a wooden post at the edge of the shop, all he saw was Edward’s face close to yours, his hand hovering near your cheek, and you standing there without pulling away.

In an instant, he was moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mydei’s voice cut through the moment.

Edward, startled, immediately pulled back and turned to see Mydei standing there—expression unreadable, stance tense.

You blinked at Mydei’s sudden entrance, then at Edward, then back at Mydei. It took you about two seconds to put the pieces together, and when you did, amusement curled at the edges of your lips.

Edward let out a short sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax, I was just getting something out of her eye.”

Edward, not one to test his luck, let out a low chuckle and took a step back. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He shot you a knowing glance before casually making his exit.

The moment he was gone, you turned to Mydei with a smirk, resting your chin in your hand.

“Wow” you mused, tone playful. “Didn’t take you for the type to interrupt people like that.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “I have to remind you that you don’t know what people’s intentions are.”

You tilted your head. “Uh-huh. And what exactly did you think was happening?”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tensed ever so slightly.

Your smirk widened. “You’re like a big cat that’s always on edge.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, the kind that watches everything, always looking ready to pounce if something gets too close.” You grinned. “Kinda cute, honestly.”

“… Stop talking nonsense.”

But despite his sharp words, Mydei stayed. Even when the conversation ended, even when there was no longer a reason to linger, he stayed.

Just like he always did.

----

The sun had long since passed its highest point when Mydei arrived at your shop, only to find the doors shut tight. No sign, no explanation, nothing. He frowned.

You never closed without warning.

For the first time in a long while, a foreign sense of unease settled in his chest. He told himself it was ridiculous—you were probably fine—but as the hours ticked by and the shop remained closed, that irritation grew into something sharper.

By the time dusk began creeping across the marketplace, he had already decided to check on you himself. But just as he moved toward the door, you finally appeared—yawning, stretching, completely at ease.

He stared. “Where the hell have you been?”

You blinked at him, rubbing your eyes. “Overslept.”

“…Overslept” he repeated flatly.

You grinned. “Yup.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. Here he was, thinking something might’ve happened, only for you to be completely unfazed, acting as if you hadn’t just left your shop closed the entire day.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you teased. “You worried?”

He scoffed, looking away. “Tch. You’re careless.”

“Well, since it’s already this late, might as well do something else.” You stretched again, eyes flicking to him. “What about you? Where were you headed?”

Mydei hesitated for a moment before answering, “…Camp.”

You tilted your head, interested. “Your camp, huh?”

“Not a place for civilians,” he muttered, already expecting you to drop it.

Instead, you grinned. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

His men were not prepared.

The moment you entered the camp, curious eyes peered from behind tents and around corners. Soldiers whispered among themselves, their gazes darting between you and Mydei like they had just seen a ghost.

Their captain—who barely tolerated company, let alone anyone outside of their ranks—had brought someone along? A girl?

Somewhere in the shadows, a small group crouched together, trying (and failing) to be discreet.

“She’s so… casual?”

“She’s actually talking to him.”

“She’s still alive.”

“Do you think she—?”

Before the last sentence could even be finished, Mydei turned sharply, his piercing gaze landing right on them.

“Out” he ordered.

There was a brief scramble of bodies before they all disappeared in a mess of quiet shouts and tripping feet.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. “They’re fun.”

“They’re idiots” he corrected, rubbing his temples.

You only hummed in amusement, following him to where a small campfire burned, casting warm flickering light over the clearing. Mydei sat first, and you settled beside him, close enough to feel the lingering heat but not too close to crowd him.

For a while, there was only silence—the crackling of fire, the distant sounds of the camp settling down for the night.

You stretched your legs out, gazing into the flames. “So, do they always eavesdrop like that, or was this a special occasion?”

“They’re not used to seeing me with company.”

You smirked. “Oh? So I’m special?”

He shot you a look, but the usual sharpness wasn’t quite there.

You leaned back on your hands, watching the embers float up into the dark sky. “Y’know, this is nice. I should close my shop more often.”

“…You must be crazy.”

But despite his words, Mydei didn’t look irritated. If anything, he stayed there longer than necessary, watching the fire, listening to your stories, and letting the quiet companionship settle between you.

The fire crackled between you, warm and steady, casting shifting shadows over Mydei’s face. He had been quiet for a while, arms resting on his knees, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the flames.

Then, without looking at you, he spoke.

“…I have a friend.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

He nodded slightly. “He’s… in a situation.”

You smirked, already catching on to where this was going. But you let him continue.

“This friend,” he went on, “has a crush on a girl.”

You bit back a grin. “Mhm.”

“He doesn’t know how to… approach her about it.” His words were carefully chosen, like he was trying not to make it obvious. “She’s carefree. Doesn’t seem to take things too seriously. He doesn’t know if she’d even notice.”

You hummed, tapping a finger against your chin in thought. “Sounds like this friend of yours thinks too much.”

Mydei shot you a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you countered with a lazy grin. “If he likes her, he should just… y’know, show it.”

He frowned. “Show it how?”

You shrugged. “Small things. Stick around her. Do things for her. Make it clear she’s different from everyone else. And if he’s brave enough, tell her.”

Mydei went quiet for a moment, mulling over your words. You weren’t sure if he expected something grander—some complicated strategy—but you could tell he was taking your advice seriously.

And then, almost immediately after, he tested it.

A second later, he reached out, plucking a stray leaf from your hair with casual ease.

“…What” he muttered, glancing away like it was nothing. “There was something there.”

You stared. Then, slowly, a knowing grin spread across your lips.

“Mydei.”

He tensed. “What?”

“You’re predictable.”

“What are you talking about?”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re following my advice already. You’re really bad at being subtle.”

He scoffed, looking off to the side, but the way his fingers twitched betrayed him.

You shook your head, amused beyond belief. “Well, tell your friend this—he doesn’t have to worry. I think the girl already noticed.”

-----

The shift was slow—so gradual you barely noticed at first. Mydei had always been watchful, lingering near your shop more than necessary, helping out in small ways that he’d brush off as coincidence. But then it started becoming… more.

You weren’t the only one to notice. The market folk whispered about it. Your friend Edward raised an eyebrow when Mydei always happened to be around. Even his own men exchanged looks whenever you visited the camp, though they were too scared to say anything outright.

And Mydei? He didn’t care what anyone thought.

But what truly set things in motion was when another man—some passing traveler—got a little too comfortable in your shop.

It was harmless, really. The man was just talkative, leaning in slightly as he complimented one of your handmade trinkets, flashing a charming smile. You, being as easygoing as always, just laughed and continued the conversation.

And Mydei, standing just outside the shop, watching from the shade of an awning, felt something snap.

The stranger’s hand briefly touched yours as you passed him a necklace.

That was it.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed behind you.

“You’re done here.”

The traveler barely had time to turn before Mydei was there, towering over him.

The man blinked in confusion. “Uh—”

“Leave.”

The traveler raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Didn’t mean anything by it, mate. Just chatting.”

“Chat somewhere else.”

The moment the man was gone, you turned to Mydei, raising an amused brow. “That was aggressive.”

He didn’t answer, his jaw tight, his fists still clenched like he was resisting the urge to chase after the guy and make sure he never even thought about coming near you again.

You grinned, nudging him. “You’re like a big cat again. All tense, ready to pounce.”

His gaze snapped to you.

“Mydei?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t like people getting too close to you.”

You smirked. “Well, if you wanted me all to yourself, you could’ve just said so.”

His eyes flickered, something snapping into place. And then, in one swift movement, he stepped forward, crowding your space, forcing you to take a step back until your spine brushed against the counter.

“Fine,” he said, “I want you to myself.”

“No more ‘friend’ nonsense. No more watching you let people touch you, talk to you like they have a chance.” His eyes burned into yours. “If you belong to anyone, it’s me.”

Silence stretched between you.

“…Wait, what?” You blinked. “You—what?”

“I said,” his voice didn’t waver, though you swore his ears were turning red, “I want you to myself.”

For once, you were actually stunned into silence.

“…Alright,” you said, still watching his expression closely. “Let’s test that, then.”

“What?”

“A test date,” you clarified, tilting your head. “If you’re serious, prove it.”

His gaze flickered, as if trying to gauge if you were teasing or not. But when he realized you weren’t laughing—when he saw that you were actually agreeing—something in him shifted.

Before he could respond, however—

“WOOHOOO!”

The loud cheering and applause from outside made both of you jolt.

You turned your head just in time to see a whole group of people—his soldiers, a couple of market vendors, even Edward—watching from the entrance of your shop, clapping and whistling like they had just witnessed the grand finale of a play.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE FINALLY SAID IT!”

“I OWE YOU FIVE COINS, EDWARD!”

“OUR CAPTAIN’S FINALLY A MAN!!”

A vein visibly twitched on Mydei’s forehead.

“ALL OF YOU—LEAVE! NOW!!”

In an instant, the group scrambled, tripping over themselves as they scattered like startled rats.

You, on the other hand, were barely holding back laughter. “Oh, wow. They’ve been waiting for this, huh?”

Mydei groaned, rubbing his temples. “…I’m going to kill them.”

You chuckled, nudging him. “Not before our date, you’re not.”

“…Fine.” He shot you a look. “But don’t think this is just a ‘test.’ I don’t intend to lose.”

“We’ll see, big guy.”

Mydei was not a romantic.

This became very clear about five minutes into the so-called “test date.”

You had expected him to be awkward—maybe stiff, maybe too serious—but you hadn’t expected him to treat it like some kind of mission.

The moment you met up, he stood there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, eyes scanning you like he was assessing the situation.

“…What?”

“I don’t know how these things work.”

“That’s the point of a test, isn’t it?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but then—without warning—he reached out and took your hand.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sudden contact. He held it firmly, almost too tight, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“…Too much?” he muttered, not looking at you.

You chuckled, easing his grip just slightly. “A little. You’re holding me like a prisoner.”

His ears turned red, but he didn’t let go.

The first thing Mydei failed at was conversation.

You both walked through the market, and while you tried to talk about casual things—the weather, your shop, the odd things you saw—he kept answering in single words.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

At one point, you just stopped walking and looked at him.

“…Are you planning on saying more than one sentence today?” you teased.

He frowned. “I don’t talk much.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

He shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. You realized then that he was actually trying—it just wasn’t coming naturally to him.

“Alright, alright. Don’t stress. Just—” You tugged his arm slightly. “Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else knows.”

His eyes flickered toward you, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I hate spicy things.”

You blinked. “Huh. Really?”

He nodded.

“…So if I gave you a something spicy right now, you wouldn’t eat it?”

“…I’d eat it if you gave it to me.”

Oh.

The second thing Mydei failed at was dealing with people.

As you walked through the town, a few people—mostly men—stopped to greet you. Some were regulars at your shop, some just acquaintances. But every single time someone so much as looked at you for too long, Mydei’s grip on your hand tightened.

At one point, one of your regulars, a friendly merchant, smiled at you and asked if you were free later to look at some new goods.

Before you could even answer, Mydei cut in with a flat, “She’s busy.”

The man blinked. “…Oh. I—”

“She’s not available” Mydei added, tone sharper this time.

You sighed, nudging him. “Relax, I can speak for myself.”

Mydei huffed but didn’t say anything else. He did not like people taking your attention.

It was ridiculous. But… also kind of cute.

The third thing Mydei failed at was subtlety.

At some point, you stopped by a food stall, eyeing some skewered meat. The moment you reached for your coin pouch, Mydei immediately slapped money down before you could pay.

You raised an eyebrow. “I can pay for myself, you know.”

“No.”

“…No?”

He crossed his arms. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Your breath caught slightly at the phrasing. But before you could tease him for it, he shoved a skewer into your hands, looking away like he hadn’t just claimed you in the middle of a crowded street.

By the end of the day, you had to admit—he was bad at this.

And yet.

Despite all the failures, despite all his awkwardness and overprotectiveness, he tried.

And then, as the sun was setting, he did something that truly moved you.

You had mentioned offhandedly a few days ago that your favorite spot in town was an old bridge overlooking a quiet stream. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

But as evening fell, Mydei silently led you there.

You blinked in surprise as you stepped onto the bridge, the soft glow of lanterns reflecting in the water. The air was crisp, the sounds of the market distant.

“…You remembered”

He stood beside you, arms resting on the railing, gazing out at the water.

“I remember everything you say” he admitted quietly.

For a moment, you just looked at him—the way the fading sunlight touched his sharp features, the way his fingers tapped absently against the wood, the way he had tried so hard today just because he wanted to be with you.

And that was it.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mydei froze.

You pulled back slightly, smirking. “You pass.”

It took him a solid three seconds to react. His face slowly turned red—first his ears, then his neck, then his entire expression.

“…Tch.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking away. But he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he held it tighter.

“Guess I'll be bothering you from now on.”

“…I don't mind.”

[bludhavents]

Professor Tavis

pairing: boyfriend!garrick tavis x reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: When hear about Garrick's new job from Xaden, you start to question why Garrick didn't tell you himself. He makes it up to you in the best way possible.

warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. porn with plot. brief description of panic attack. professor kink tehe. unprotected p in v. fem!reader. ridoc being a protective best friend. super minor onyx storm spoiler.

Xaden looks past his cousin to Garrick. “I just need Professor Tavis.”

I can’t help but gape at the title given to my boyfriend. The title I am just now hearing for the first time. My head snaps up to gawk at him along with the rest of my squad. He winces, but slides by me on the steps and follows after Xaden without looking back. 

All of my friend’s eyes turn away from the men as they disappear and focus on me instead. 

“Professor?” Bodhi frowns. “Since when?”

I meet his round brown eyes and shrug my shoulders, turning back to face the map on the table. Apparently, I’m the only one who remembers that we’re trying to plan out our flight path. The rest of the group is murmuring around me now, gossiping about Professor Tavis. I try my best not to feel scuffed at the fact that I’m learning about my boyfriend’s new job along with the rest of my squad. Except, apparently, not all of them were so oblivious.

“He told me about it over breakfast. They just asked him to accept this morning,” Imogen says, and I straighten in my seat. She’s always been interested in my boyfriend, which is enough to make me jealous as is. Him confiding in her about his new status before telling me feels like a punch in the gut. Then, she piles on top of that feeling. “He didn’t tell you? That’s weird.”

The hair on my skin raises uncomfortably under my leathers. I swallow hard. 

“Shut up, Imogen.” Ridoc slaps her on the shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Let’s refocus,” Rhiannon supplies, drawing her finger from Basgiath to one of the isles on the map. I can’t make out which one it is through the unshed tears that are stinging in my eyes. “This route could work.”

The group argues again, all speaking over one another as they shove their fingers onto the paper and suggest their own ideas. My mind races as I sit amongst them, drifting through my recent memories with Garrick in an attempt to recall any reason why he’d have withheld this from me, but I come up with nothing. A small sigh leaves my mouth as I continue to stir over the pit in my stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” Bodhi asks, looking up from the map.

“Nothing! I’m just tired.” I rub my eyes and blink hard, trying to force myself back into the moment to help my squadmates formulate the plan. Ridoc nods from next to me, leaning his head onto my shoulder with a dramatic yawn. 

“Me too. Can we break for nap time?” He smiles cheekily at our friends. Every single one of them rolls their eyes at his antics, but Rhiannon relents. 

“Yeah. We can come back after dinner and look at it with fresh eyes,” she says, folding the map up on the table and tucking it into her bag. We’d been here over an hour already. “I’m gonna head to the training room if anyone wants to spar.”

Violet, Sawyer, Aaric, and Sloane all break off with her. The rest of the group goes their own ways, and Ridoc stays with me as we head toward the dorm wing of the castle. His footsteps are wider than mine, his long legs guiding him easily down the corridor. 

“Never took you for a teacher’s pet,” he teases, looking down at me with a wide grin that shows all his teeth. I laugh, shaking my head. 

“Didn’t know I was one. Gods, I can’t believe he would tell Imogen before me. I mean Xaden, I get, but Cardulo? What in Malek’s name did I do to deserve that blow?” I let myself rant to him. Nobody else is in the hallway around us. There’s no reason to hide my disdain for my situation when I already know that he’s tuned into my agitation anyway. 

“I wanted to punch her in the mouth!” He shouts, throwing his hands up. “I mean if you’re going to be a homewrecker, at least have some tact about it.”

My heart twists and pounds in my chest. Homewrecker. The humor of the situation is abruptly drained from my body. My pulse quickens quickly, and my jacket suddenly fits too snugly. I grab his wrist and stop walking, turning to face him with hot cheeks. 

“You don’t really think…” My voice trails off, not wanting to think about the possibility of Garrick and Imogen having any sort of secret relationship. 

“No, no, gods, no,” he hurries out, quickly taking a step toward me and wrapping me into a tight hug. He speaks softly into my hair. “I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. You know that Garrick loves you more than anything. It’s pathetic and weird and I’m so jealous of it. He’d never do that to you. Gods know Imogen has tried, though.”

I relax a little at that, but I can’t help the sob that rips through my chest. The past hour has been utterly overwhelming, and it feels like I can’t breathe through the stress. Ridoc holds me tight, running a hand up and down my arm as I wet his leathers with my tears. 

It’s suddenly too hot. I fumble with the zipper of my jacket, trying desperately to get it off of my body as anxiety surges. Ridoc replaces my hands with his on the zipper, then quickly unbuttons the collar and slides my jacket off of my shoulders. He tucks it under his arm and takes a step back. My chest aches with the force of my sobs. After a minute passes and I show no signs of stopping, he sweeps my legs off of the ground and carries me bridal style toward the dorm hall. 

My face stays buried in his shoulder the entire way, uncontrollably wailing. I try wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my undershirt, but it’s no use. The floodgates have opened and the tears just keep coming. It’s a panic attack.

“It’s okay, we’re almost to your room,” he says sweetly, pushing open a set of double doors with his hip. He keeps walking. “Deep breaths. Almost there.”

“What the hell happened?” A familiar voice echoes through the hallway, and a new set of tears rises behind my eyes, spilling over quickly as I choke out a sob. Ridoc stiffens beneath me as I dig my fingers into him, holding myself close to him. 

The anxiety that’s running through my blood isn’t just about the thought of being cheated on, because I know deep down that Garrick would never do that to me. It’s just overwhelming to have Imogen’s snarky comment on top of the stress of planning our trip to the isles, and keeping Xaden’s secret safe from the others. It’s too much, and it’s all weighing on me now.

Ridoc’s steps slow, and he bends over at the waist, setting me back on my feet gently. I release my grip on him only after he places a hand on my upper back. Through my tears, I first see the wetness running down his leather jacket, racing from the collar down to his stomach. Then, I look away from him and see Garrick towering over us, right next to my door. 

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” Ridoc moves a gentle hand to the back of my head before turning and shoving my jacket into Garrick’s chest, matching his mean scowl with one of his own. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m the one who brought her here, Professor.”

“Don’t start, Gamlyn,” he bites back. His knuckles are white where he’s holding my jacket.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth if I were you. It seems to be getting you in trouble a lot recently.” He crosses the hallway and steps into his room, slamming the door shut loudly behind him. Garrick’s lips are pressed together tightly, chest heaving with angry breaths. His eyes trail away from our friend and land back on me, softening as he rests a calloused palm on my wet cheek and tilts my chin up to face him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His tone is pleading, and hot tears keep falling down my face as I stare into his hazel eyes and search for my answers. If he was cheating on me, would I see it in his revealing eyes? I don’t notice anything different. When I look into him, I still see only my Garrick. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

He opens my door with one hand, using the other to urge me in front of him. He guides me all the way to the edge of my bed and sets my leathers next to me as I take a seat there. His tall form shrinks to my height as he kneels in front of me, placing his hands on my hips. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to me,” he begs, squeezing my skin. 

“I’m just a little overwhelmed.” I drag my cold palms over my face to wipe away the drying tears and take a deep breath, willing them to stop falling. “Everyone was asking me questions about you becoming a professor, and I didn’t know anything about it, you never told me. Then Imogen starts answering all of them, and I just-- I don’t know. It really upset me, I think, to have her know more about what’s going on with you than I do. Then when we were walking back here, I started thinking that maybe there’s a reason you would tell her before telling me, and I just…”

Garrick flinches in front of me and moves his hands to cup my jaw. His hazel eyes burn into my skin and force me to meet his gaze. I see his lips parted in shock and a deep furrow between his thick brows. He opens his mouth as if to start talking, but hesitates, swallowing hard. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admits, running a thumb to catch a stray tear in the corner of my eye. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I never ever meant to make you think that I was going behind your back. I promise you, with all of my heart, that you are the only person I’ve wanted to tell all day.”

“Why didn’t you?” My voice breaks, and I gnaw on the skin of my bottom lip. 

“I didn’t tell Imogen, first of all-- Xaden did. While we were eating breakfast, which was right after I’d gotten back from the meeting where they told me about the job offer.” He grasps my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to my skin. I sigh, letting my free hand brush the hair above his ear. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. That’s just what she told everyone,” I apologize, and he shakes his head quickly. 

“Don’t apologize, I don’t blame you at all,” he says sincerely. “I’m sorry that you heard it from someone else. I’ve been wanting to tell you all day, but you weren’t at breakfast, and then I got pulled into another meeting to discuss lesson plans, and then by the time I got out, everyone was working on the flight paths with you. I wanted to be able to sit down and have a discussion with you about it in private without everyone listening, and then fucking Riorson ruined that. I should’ve just asked you to come talk with me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”

I stare at the man in front of me, watching his chest rise and fall with slow breaths. A sweet smile graces his full lips as I hiccup, finally taking in my first full breath all day. His shaggy hair falls into his face as he bends over. I watch as his strong hands delicately untie my boots before sliding them off of my feet one at a time. It feels like I’ve been bathed in a pool of relief and his words are the water that cradles me.

“Come here,” I swing my legs onto the bed and pat the spot next to me. He removes his own shoes and lays in the empty spot, wrapping an arm around my body and tugging me into his side. Our eyes meet where we lay, and I press a kiss to his lips. My body melts into the taste of him, but I relent, pulling away. He groans in disapproval. 

“Why?” He whines. I giggle, feeling at ease here in his arms. He smirks down at me and leans in for another kiss, but I put my finger to his lips instead. 

“I want to hear about this job!” I prop myself up on my elbows, laying on my stomach as he narrows his eyes at me in disdain. Looking at the man in front of me, I wonder how I ever got myself so worked up. There’s nothing but concentrated love in his eyes right now, and it’s all for me.

“Later. Come kiss me right now, I’ve missed you.” He sits up, grasping my cheek and bringing his mouth to mine. I sigh into the kiss and he takes advantage, slipping his tongue through my parted lips. My hand on his chest pushes him back against the mattress, not breaking the kiss as I follow him down. 

We’re thinking the same thing, his fingers grabbing my hips to lift me onto his lap, but I’m already lifting my leg to straddle him. He pulls away from the kiss and attaches his lips to my jaw. I can feel his smile against my skin.

“Good, sweetheart,” he praises, “you know just what I need.”

I settle onto him, my thighs clenching either side of his hips. He uses his hold on my waist to push my body down harder onto him, a groan rising in the back of his throat as he rubs me over his clothed dick. Gripping me roughly, he drags me back and forth over and over. I press sloppy kisses up his neck and along his jaw, leaving one just below his ear before lightly grazing my teeth over his earlobe. 

Every part of him is solid beneath me. Solid arms, solid chest, solid stomach, and a solid dick working me just right. Garrick Tavis drives me crazy.

“I need you,” he says, stopping his movements and turning to stare into my eyes. His pupils are blown, revealing only the faintest sliver of hazel around them. I kiss him softly. Garrick has always been a tease. I appreciate getting to return the favor sometimes, and the perfect idea has presented itself. I kiss him again and he groans, bucking his hips up. “I need you now, sweetheart.”

“What do you need from me, Professor Tavis?” I fiend innocence, voice soft and low, looking at him with wide eyes that I’m certain are just as lust-blown as his. Garrick’s lips part and the next kiss he drags from my lips is feverish. His hands are gripping at my shirt, tearing it off of my body with no regard and discarding it to the floor carelessly. 

He grips my ass roughly, and I squeal as I’m suddenly lifted off of his lap and flipped onto my back, staring up at my boyfriend as he unzips his jacket and slides out of it easily. I sit up to help him with his shirt, but he pushes me back down.

“I’m a professor and you’re a cadet, our relationship is strictly off limits.” He slides his shirt over his head, and my pulse stutters. I reach a hand out to feel his packed muscle, trailing my fingers down the patch of hair that starts at his navel and dips below his waistband. He inhales sharply.

“Off limits?” I don’t look at him, instead I work on unfastening the belt around his waist. My gaze drifts below my hands, and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth at the sight of the bulge straining against his pants. 

“Strictly. So I need you to be really quiet for me, sweetheart.” He rakes his hand through my hair, fisting it gently at the base of my neck and pulling so that I meet his eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Professor Tavis.” I nod quickly. He removes my hands from his crotch and steps off the bed. I frown, rolling to protest, but he’s quick to shut me up. 

“Take your pants off.” He’s already stepping out of his. “I can’t wait any longer.”

I don’t question him, the angry red tip of his stiff cock saying enough to prove that he’s being honest. My bottoms slide off quickly. I shove my panties off with them, baring myself to the desperate man in front of me.

“Bra.” Garrick’s voice is tight. He’s fisting himself, but not pumping at all. He’s waiting for me to follow his instructions. I unhook my bra and shrug it off. He hums in appraisal, bringing his eyes to my bare chest. I revel in the way his eyebrows knit together, like he’s physically pained by my beauty. This is what it felt like to be loved. 

“Professor Tavis?” I stand up from the bed, walking toward him slowly. He inhales sharply as I pause in front of him, nearly pressing my skin to his. “What should I do next?”

“Get on your knees, sweetheart.” He smoothes the hair at the top of my head as he commands me so sweetly. Seeing him like this, so affected by me, is driving me crazy. 

I lower myself to my knees in front of him, wetting my lips as I become eye level with his dick. Pre-cum is already leaking from the tip, and I open my mouth to lap it up, but he cradles my face and stops me gently. My eyes meet his as he towers above me, shaking his head softly. 

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to put your hand between your legs.” My breath catches in my throat in surprise. We’re both so desperate, and he’s dragging this out for so long, but I can’t find it in myself to argue with him as his cock twitches when I lower my hand down my stomach and dip it between my legs. The moan that tumbles from my lips is immediate. Garrick’s foreplay made my clit swell, and it’s the most sensitive that I’ve felt as I begin to stroke myself with my fingers. Letting the noises of pleasure escape as I start grinding with my hips is uncontrollable. 

“Professor Tavis,” I moan loudly as my head falls back. “Please fuck me. Please make me cum.”

I’m shocked when one strong arm wraps around my waist and hoists me up, but I don’t hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist. All plans of sucking him off are abandoned. He holds me tightly to him, molding his mouth to mine so fiercely that our teeth bump. The head of his cock teases my entrance and I gasp at the sensation. It takes him only two steps to reach the bed, where he pulls his mouth away from mine and lays me out on my stomach. The loss of contact makes me whimper.

“You’ve gotta be quiet for me,” he coos. His rough hands are a sharp contrast to his saccharine voice as he lifts my ass into the air and kneads it. I groan, jutting my hips back, and he tsks. “What’d I say? Quiet for me baby. Don’t make me tell you again. Can you do that for me? Can you shut that pretty mouth while I fuck you?”

The moan that leaves my lips is unstoppable, and he laughs darkly behind me before pulling my hips back. My cheeks flush at his laugh. 

“I want to be good for you, Professor. Please let me try.” He inhales sharply and then aligns his tip at my entrance. I push my hips back slowly, and he’s the one who can’t keep to himself this time. 

“Oh, fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, grabbing my ass and pushing himself further into me. I gasp as he bottoms out inside of me, feeling overwhelmingly full. 

He leans down over me, leaving a trail of kisses up my spine. His lips pause at my neck, and he bites me softly. 

“You’re such a good girl for me. So fucking good. Thank you, sweetheart.” He straightens his spine and pulls his hips back so far that the tip of his dick is barely inside of me, before he slams into me. I whine, my walls stretched out by his thick cock, but he only pulls out again, leaving me to wait before he rams into me another time, cursing as he finds a steady pace. His cock is moving at the perfect speed. I moan as he hits a sweet spot, and I feel him focus as he hits it again, and again, and again. 

I cry out. “Oh gods. Just like that. Right there.”

He keeps his thrusts perfect and steady, pushing me closer to my edge. Once his fingers wrap around my front and find my swollen clit, I let out a shaky breath. He continues his punishing pace as his finger circles my clit once, then twice, and it’s the perfect combination. I’m shattering around him immediately, my legs shaking. 

“Professor Tavis!” Waves of pleasure ripple through me, my orgasm prolonged by him chasing his own now, his dick pushing into me roughly. I’m still squeezing him, wetness dripping down my legs as he hits the perfect spot. “Fuck!”

“Fuck, I love you so much, sweetheart,” he moans, pace quickening before he stills. I tighten at the feeling of his cock twitching inside of me, filling me up with his release. He exhales deeply, fanning my spine with hot air. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking dream.”

He places a firm hand on my ass as he starts to pull his dick out, but hisses with the motion, and then pushes himself back inside. I turn my head to look back at him, watching as he does it again, backing himself out almost all of the way and then sliding back in. His eyes are fixed on the point where he’s entering, watching with deep breaths as he repeats it one more time.

“Sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. I don’t want to leave.” His voice is strained with pleasure, gaze trailing from where I’m wrapped around him up to my ass, then my back, and then he meets my face. The fire in his eyes is enough to melt me.

“So don’t. Stay inside and come lay with me,” I suggest, hoping that he does just that. He smirks and lowers himself onto the bed with me, holding me close to keep himself inside as he adjusts us so that we’re spooning now. I lay my head on his arm and sigh contentedly. 

“I love you, sweetheart. That was fucking hot.” He laughs breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. I giggle, finding that I could really get used to this new job of his. 

[kawaiikenna]

Hey look at that, I finally finished the fic I was writing for this! 😅 Here’s the link to the AO3 posting. :3

~~~

It had been a joke at first. Something that she would tell at parties and gatherings to spark interest or further conversations. It was something that she hadn’t thought about anymore than just a hobby. It wasn’t supposed to turn into something like this. How did she even know the people to actually make this happen? In all honesty Jazz should still be at home, studying for finals and making sure her thesis is watertight before submitting it.

Yes, that is exactly what she should be doing. Not going through customs on her way to Paris! And even more so, she should not be on a plane with the rest of the sharpshooters on their way to the god damned Olympics! And yet here she is, on a plane about to taxi down the runway, to then fly to Paris, France, to compete in the Olympics.

“Jazz?” A worried voice breaks her out of her own thoughts.

She looks over to see one of her teammates, Lucy, staring at her with concern plainly written all over her face. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“Oh, um, no. I was just worried about you because you seemed like you were having a really deep dissociative episode there. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I know that competitions can be really stressful and nerve wracking.” Lucy rambles. The seatbelt light turns off and Jazz unbuckles herself. “Sorry, I guess I’m nervous myself. I tend to ramble a lot when I’m nervous.”

“It’s alright.” Jazz offers with an understanding smile on her face. “I can understand why you’re nervous. Would you like to talk about something else instead? We should probably stay awake for a little longer otherwise jetlag will come for us.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. She leans in closer, nearly hanging out of her little seat cubby and halfway across the walkway. Her eyes glint in a way that Jazz has seen in countless others. Some juicy gossip was about to be traded. Jazz leans in just a bit, showing her interest in whatever Lucy was about to share.

“Did you hear that one of the Wayne boys is competing in the Olympics as well?” A huge grin spreads across Lucy’s face.

“Wayne?” Jazz questions. She knows that she’s heard the name before but can’t quite put her finger on it. “I feel like I should know that name but tell me anyway.”

Lucy gasps. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I know you know who the Wayne’s are. It’s nearly impossible to not know who the Wayne’s are!”

“Lucy, I think you’ve forgotten that I’ve lived my entire life in a city that was completely cut off from the rest of the world. We only got outside connection back a little after my 20th birthday.” Jazz rolls her eyes in a playful fashion. A lot of people who know her forget about this little known fact. “I’ve only been attending my college in person for a year. Please forgive me if I haven’t been able to keep up on the gossip and know ‘who’s who’ in the celebrity world. Now, are you going to tell me who the Wayne’s are?”

Oh boy. Jazz would later come to regret that but it did help pass the time as their flight neared Paris.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jazz had to say that she was not impressed at the accommodations provided for the Olympians. Sleeping or otherwise. Who the hell thought that it was a grand idea to make all of the athletes sleep on the equivalent of padded cardboard boxes? The closets provided were nothing more than dollar store wire racks held together by bits of plastic and hope. Only staying together out of sheer spite. Now, she’s one for keeping things as green as possible and for companies to reduce their carbon footprint, but when it starts to impact the living quality of people, that’s when it should be stopped.

Don’t even get her started on the food situation. Jazz bets that if Sam was here instead, she would be absolutely elated. Considering that nearly 78% of the food options were vegetarian. Which is all good and well, but if you expected athletes who expended quite a few thousand calories with the sheer amount of exercise and activity that they do daily. Now, if done right, a vegetarian, or even vegan, lifestyle can greatly benefit athletes. But if thrown into this lifestyle without the proper precautions, evaluations or accommodations, it could lead to devastating outcomes.

She had her own dietary restrictions that no one would be able to cater to. Luckily she had a little brother with connections that could get her the ecto necessary for her to continue functioning properly. Which then brought up the whole ‘how are metas handled in the Olympics?’ debate. One that Jazz politely listened to but didn’t contribute a lot to. Seeing as she was still technically a non-sentient being by the government’s standards. Even if they didn’t actually know that’s how they classified her. Enough about that though, she was going on a mental rant about the food provided to them.

Not to mention that the athletes that don’t need to eat calorie dense meals were given the same options as those that did need it. Was it healthy? Yes actually, it was very healthy. Was it what she was expecting? No, not at all. She wasn’t enjoying it in the slightest either. Jazz had built up this amazing expectation of what kinds of international and local cuisine was going to be offered only for those expectations to be completely and utterly crushed. At least the chocolate muffins were good.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That had to have been the longest boat ride Jazz had ever been on. Sure it hadn’t poured rain the entire time but it was enough to be annoying. Her face hurt quite a bit from how much smiling she did while on the boat. It wasn’t a pleasant kind of pain either, more of the ‘forced customer service smile’ pain. And sure it was a really cool experience that Jazz would be able to tell her future children as well as future nieces and nephews. She really wasn’t sure how some of these athletes could do this kind of thing multiple years. At least the Olympics weren’t something that happened yearly. And even if they did, Jazz was very firmly not going to go again. Even if they asked nicely.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t until the morning of the 27th that Jazz was finally able to catch her first glimpse of the elusive ‘Wayne boy’ that was supposedly competing in the men’s team gymnastics. He was tall but still wasn’t quite as tall as she is. Though with black hair and icy blue eyes, he looked like he could be related to herself and Danny. He was slim but extremely fit, which made sense since gymnastics was a very demanding sport.

Richard Grayson was the perfect picture of a billionaire’s son, adoptive or otherwise. Rich enough to pull people in, charming enough to keep people engaged, and yet still horrendously shallow. Jazz rolled her eyes and kept going past Richard and his posse of onlookers to go get some breakfast. She thought that that would be the last she saw of him.

How sorely was she wrong.

The gymnastics were one of the first events held that day. They also took the longest since they weren’t a single event but several mashed together under one name. Jazz had tried to spend her time practicing at the ranges they were provided with but was instead dragged away to watch some of the other events. Lucy was currently holding her hostage and forcing her to watch as the men’s gymnastics team did their routines. You could tell exactly when a fangirl spotted Mr. Grayson by the screaming and cheers and frenzied ‘I love you Dick!’s that would ring out across the stadium. And every time Jazz would roll her eyes. She was used to working with people that had pHDs, sometimes even multiple. People that knew how she thought and could actually understand and keep up with her when she talked. All of which Richard Grayson could not do so why would she be interested?

Jazz is ripped from her thoughts by Lucy shaking her fairly violently. “Oh, oh no, oh no!!! Jazz, Jazz! He’s looking over here! The Dick Grayson is actually looking over here! Directly at us!” Lucy squealed in fevered delight, a dreamy look on her face.

“That’s nice Lucy.” Jazz looks up to see that Team USA were starting to gather up and head out, presumably for a late lunch or early dinner. “Why don’t you go over and talk to him? I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.”

Lucy gasps and clutches at Jazz’s arm. “No! He’s like, famous and his family is stupid rich and how could I even compare to that?”

Jazz shrugs. “My little brother is dating an heiress. Of course, she also goes against everything, or at least tries to, her mom tries to get her to be. I’m pretty sure she’s had extensive education in politeness, manners and pretty much every form of etiquette you can possibly think of.” Jazz says as she discreetly maneuvers herself and Lucy through the crowds and towards one Mr. Grayson. How Lucy hadn’t noticed yet was a mystery though. “Sam is a lovely young lady though. Never grew out of her gothic phase and now lives it like any other lifestyle. She’s vegetarian and incredibly involved in animals’ rights. If anything, you’d think that she’s just like any other 19 year old.”

“Ok, but-” Was all Lucy could get out before she noticed just how close they were to the competition floor with Richard only a few meters away from them, surrounded by teammates and coaches. “Holy shit, he’s so close.” She whispers with wide eyes as she stops dead in her tracks.

“Mhm, and you’re going to go talk to him. Because if I have to listen to you sigh dreamily over him one more time I think I’ll be sleeping in Jessica’s room on the floor.” Jazz hums before pushing Lucy just those few feet closer to the barrier.

She leans over the railing and waves to Grayson. It takes a moment, but she’s actually able to catch his attention. He says something to the teammate he’d been talking to before walking over to them. Lucy squeals again and clutches even tighter to Jazz’s arm. At this rate she’s going to make herself pass out.

“Hey there ladies. What can I do for you?” Richard says, his tone is suave and Jazz will admit that he has a very nice voice to listen to. An easy, wide smile graces his lips.

Jazz leans on the railing with her arms folded under her. “My friend here thinks you are absolutely amazing and so cute and handsome.” She points to Lucy.

Lucy then comes back from her starstruck state just enough to blush bright red and smack Jazz on her arm. “Shut up!” Lucy hisses before giving the gymnast a nervous smile.

Jazz raises a brow at Lucy. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. And let’s be honest, I could repeat much worse.” Jazz throws her friend a sly smile.

Lucy buries her head in her hands. Mumble jumbled curses are the only things Jazz can hear from her extremely fluster teammate. She smiles and laughs a bit. This is what she gets for non-stop chattering about the man in front of them. Another good natured laugh startles her a bit and she glances back down at the gymnast.

“Thank you, I appreciate it, but I think red heads are a personal favorite of mine.” He winks at Jazz and she’s not entirely sure how she feels about this. She can still feel it as her face flushes though.

Lucy’s head shoots up out of her hands. Initially, Jazz thinks that she’s hurt from being so thoroughly rejected. Realization dawns on her just a moment too late. Instead of tears, Lucy has a nearly manic grin on her face and a teasing glint in her eyes. She grips the railing and leans as far forward as she can to get just that much closer to the gymnast.

“Jazz is single. She says that you’re not her type but I’ve seen her staring at your wonderful, glorious ass. If you want I can drag her to the-” Lucy blurts before Jazz is able to pounce on her. She slaps a hand over her teammate’s mouth, effectively shutting her up.

“Well would you look at the time!” Jazz says, a bit of embarrassed desperation making her voice a much higher pitch than it usually is. Jazz tries to get Lucy to back up and away from the railing. It does not work all that well but she tries anyway. “We need to get going for our warm ups Lucy!”

Jazz is able to get them two steps away from the railing when Lucy is able to get free from Jazz. She runs back to the railing where Richard is still standing, looking up at their antics with a genuine smile. She grips the railing as Jazz tries her damnedest to pull her away.

“We’re having dinner at 6:30 tonight! I’ll make sure she’s there!” Lucy shouts with a manic smile on her face.

“I’ll make sure to be there too!” Richard shouts back. “I’ll see you then Jazz!”

Jazz is finally able to get her friend away from the railing. Sure, she had to use a bit of her liminal strength, but she did it. Jazz didn’t put her down until they were out of the stadium and on their way to the shooting range.

Jazz stares down at her friend, hands on hips and an enraged disappointed expression on her face. “You, are a menace.”

Lucy smiles sweetly up at Jazz. “A menace that just got you a date.”

Jazz stares down at her for a moment. “I will not thank you.”

“You will when you get laid!” And with that Lucy took off down the street, Jazz hot on her heels.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jazz sighed as she sat down with her tray of food. Sure this wasn’t where she really wanted to sit, but Lucy had said that she absolutely had to sit here and wait for her while she got her own dinner. Which was kind of strange but whatever. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’s experienced or dealt with in her life, and she was willing to bet just about anything that this wasn’t going to be even the weirdest thing she’ll experience on this trip alone.

Ugh, her head pounded a bit. She was due for another dose of ecto soon but that would have to wait until after dinner. She stretched a bit and took note of what hurt the worst. Her arm was incredibly sore and her head was ringing. Apparently her shooting style was something that most people didn’t expect. So what if she didn’t care for any of the fancy equipment? It wasn’t all that difficult to shoot the way she does. Either way, Jazz was just looking forward to taking a hot shower after eating dinner.

Of course, there was something that she was forgetting and it was really bugging her. Something that didn’t quite seem right. She spent a moment trying to figure out when a familiar black haired, blue eyed man sat directly in front of her with his own tray of food.

She stares at him for a moment, not really knowing what to do in this situation. “Um, hi?” She ends up saying dumbly.

“Hi.” Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson responds with a wide smile. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to catch you before you left. Good thing I found you though.”

“Uhhhh, thanks? I guess?” Jazz responds, still unsure of the situation and how to proceed. She massages her temples, she really didn’t have the capacity to sit through more bullshit. “And why, pray tell, were you looking for me?”

“Because your friend set us up on a date, obviously.” He says, his smile not slipping in the slightest.

Jazz raises an eyebrow. “A date? Is that what this is?” She continues to eat, not bothering to look at him again.

“I would think so at least.”

Jazz hums, contemplating. “If this is a date then you’re not doing very well, are you?”

“How so?” He raises an eyebrow.

“For starters, you haven’t bothered to actually introduce yourself. Are you just used to people already knowing who you are that you don’t have basic manners anymore? What a shame.” She gives him an unimpressed look.

Laughter spills out of him. A joyous sound that Jazz actually really liked. It sounded genuine too, which was a nice plus.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m Richard but you can just call me Dick. And yes, that is the name I prefer.” Dick grins widely, humor saturating his entire expression.

“Nice to finally officially meet you Dick. My name is Jasmine, please call me Jazz though. Only my mother uses my full name.” She says with a chortle and smiles. “Now what is it that you usually do on first dates? I haven’t had many considering my family’s reputation and my major.”

“Really?” Dick asks, eyes wide with curiosity. She nods. “Well, I guess you talk about yourselves. Get to know each other more to see if you’re interested and compatible with each other. Why don’t you tell me about your major. I didn’t know that you’re in college. What do you study?”

And that was how the rest of the night went. Talking and sharing stories and lamenting over shenanigans that their younger siblings had done. She learned that he had three officially adopted younger brothers, but the Wayne household was home to quite a few of their friends and ‘honorary’ siblings. Jazz told him a little about the time she was growing up, a very curated version but necessary alteration.

By the end of the night, Dick walked her back to her room and bade her goodnight. As soon as she walked into her shared apartment Lucy and Jessica were on her like wolves on an injured animal. They just about backed her up against the door as they crowded in and basically shouted questions over top of each other.

“Was that Dick?” Lucy demanded. “Did he walk you back?”

“Oh my god, did he kiss you? Did you like it?” Jessica questioned with fierce determination in her eyes.

Lucy gasps. “No, he wouldn’t go that far yet, right? Jazzy here wouldn’t let him.”

Jessica nods wisely. “You’re right, you’re right. She’s far too uptight to let him do that.”

“Wha- hey!” Was all Jazz was able to get out before her two friends, and teammates, bulldozed over her.

“Holy shit, you are so right. It probably has to do with her always psychoanalyzing everyone she meets.”

“See, see. But he did walk her back so there has to be some kind of interest. Right?”

“Right.” They both turn back to Jazz. “So are you gonna tell us about him or are you just going to stand there?”

There’s a moment of silence where Jazz makes sure that they’ll actually let her talk. She gives them both a look and they nod, encouraging her to go on. “He was, nice.” Was all she was able to say before a bright red blush made its home on her face.

Lucy and Jessica both burst into twittering giggles. Jazz just sighs. It was going to be one hell of a long night and she fears that it will be an even longer time before she could indulge in a hot shower. She’d really been looking forward to that. Oh well.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jazz couldn’t believe it.

She had placed. In the Olympics. How in all of the Infinite Realms, did she manage to do that? It didn’t feel like something she could accomplish. Sure Jazz had started bettering her aim when it became apparent that she was more of a danger than a help to Danny. But that didn’t explain just how all of this happened. It felt like she’d somehow stumbled upon the most unbelievable series of events and the following consequences.

“Jazz! Good job!” Her coach cheered when she came back from the podium. “I think in celebration, we should take the whole team out for a nice dinner!”

Jazz just nodded. She wasn’t quite sure if the reality she was currently experiencing actually was reality or just a trick some ghost was playing on her. In the end she decided that she might as well enjoy the moment, if it ended up not being real she could kick the ecto entity’s ass into next millennium. So she spent the rest of the night in a fancy French restaurant surrounded by her teammates as they all cheered for her and showed her their unwavering support. It had to be the most fun she’d had in a long time, maybe the most fun she’s ever had to begin with.

When dinner had been finished and cleaned up, they all stumbled out into the streets. Now that all of their events were over, they were free to go sightseeing until their ride home in a week or so. Jazz could feel the sheer amount of ecto that radiated throughout the older parts of Paris. And it may be a bad thing that the ambient ecto was starting to make her feel a bit buzzed. Like she’d had a couple drinks and was now somewhere between waking and unconsciousness. Everything felt warm and fuzzy, as if nothing bad could ever happen. Not now, not ever. Soon the fuzziness was interrupted by one very handsome and dashing Dick Grayson.

She smiled widely at him. She couldn’t really string together words to make a coherent sentence at the moment but she knew that actions spoke louder than words.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jazz woke with a start. The first thing she noticed was how badly her head hurt. A pounding headache was overtaking her entire thought process to the point of wanting to just go back to sleep. And she was really considering it as well. But when she settled back into her cardboard bed, another presence in her bed made themselves known. Jazz is frozen in place, afraid that if she moves at all the other person will wake up. But with her sudden stiffening the other person carelessly ensnares her in their hold and presses her to them. Now there’s a delightfully toned and warm body that is fully pressed to her back. One strong arm encircles her waist as the other pillows her head.

This, this was bad. Jazz tried to wrack her brain to figure out what happened or even how it happened. The last thing she remembered was that she came in third place in the finals, everyone being ecstatic over the placement, and them all going out to eat at a local restaurant. Then she came back? Jazz wasn’t sure, that’s when it started to get hazy. First of all, before she did anything else, she needed to figure out who the hell was in bed with her and how the hell to get out of this specific situation. So, carefully, she turned around to get a look at the person that was currently sharing her bed. And why was she not surprised to come face to face with a naked Dick Grayson?

‘Wait, naked?’ Was all she could think.

A cursory glance down tells her that she is also buck naked. There are constellations of hickeys and love bites all down her chest and torso, with a few decorating her arms and legs. She had absolutely no doubt that if her body looked like this, her neck would more than likely look like a scarf of blues and purples. Of course, with a closer look, Dick didn’t seem to come out of whatever happened unscathed either. He had his own intricate pattern of hickeys and love bites across his skin. There were a few surface level scratches along his arms and shoulders though.

Jazz was staring at Dick, in all his fully naked glory, when he woke up. It was a slow process. A lot slower than her own jolting into consciousness. His eyes fluttered open for a split second before closing again. He pulls her in even closer, twining his legs with hers, the arm under her head shifting so that he had better access to card through her messy red locks, his other hand drifting down to caress her butt. With how close they were now pressed together, Jazz could feel his erection firming up against her stomach.

Jazz lets out a little squeak at all of the contact. She’s still uncertain about if this is ok, but she sure as hell knows that it all feels really damn good. His eyes jump open and he holds her in a more protective way as he scans the room for some unknown danger or threat. When his sleepy brain finally figures out that there wasn’t anything of the likes in the room he settles again before glancing down at her. They lock eyes and he smiles. It’s a wide and sleepy thing, like he still isn’t quite fully awake. It makes Jazz blush like none other.

“Mornin’ beautiful. Di’n’t think you’d s’ill be here when I woke up. Nice to see you’re s’ill ’ere though.” Dick’s voice is an even deeper timbre with sleep roughness softening his words.

“I’m, I’m not sure what exactly happened?” Jazz says in an unconfident tone. She shifts away from her bed partner to try and gain just a little more space between them. Though with how narrow the bed was, she didn’t have much success. “How, exactly, did we get here?”

That woke Dick up a bit more. Clarity was slowly starting to show in his eyes as the sleepiness began to fade. “What’d you mean? Here, like in your room, or here like in your bed?”

“Um, both?” Jazz answers honestly.

Dick hums, relaxing back into the tiny twin mattress. “We went on another date after you had a celebratory dinner with your team.” Luckily he wasn’t slurring his words too badly. Meaning Jazz could understand him more clearly. “We took a tour down into the tunnels. You know, the ones filled with bones?” Jazz nods, not really like where this was going. “After we’d been down there for a little while you started acting weird. Kind of like you had alcohol or you somehow got drugged. And I swear, I didn’t do anything like that to you. If you don’t believe me, that's alright.” He leans back and stares up at the ceiling.

“I believe you.” Jazz says in quiet confidence.

Dick whips his gaze back to hers. “You do?”

She nods. “I know this feeling and sadly it’s nothing a mortal could ever inflict.” She sighs heavily and slumps into Dick’s chest.

She really should’ve been more careful traveling around a city that had so much death. The ecto was deep seated and older than anything she could ever hope to find in America. It was no wonder her body reacted the way it had. It didn’t help that the centuries and centuries of ghostly wants and needs that had piled up had found a way to become fulfilled through her. Jazz knew that she was a far more likely choice as a conduit for the dead than others.

“Anything a mortal could inflict?” Dick repeated, though it sounded like he was repeating it more to himself than back to her.

Jazz hummed. “Yep. Lucky you, you seemed to have been able to bed the former Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms. I don’t really count as fully human or mortal anymore.” She closes her eyes, suddenly feeling more tired than she should be. They should be able to squeeze in a nap before anyone came looking for them, right?

“Jazz?” Dick tries to shake her awake. She just groans and shifts to hide her face in his chest. If she’s gone as far as the situation implies, then she’s going to enjoy it, dammit. Dick shakes her again, a little more firmly now. “Jazz, you can’t just dump that on me and expect to not have to explain.” His voice sounds reedy and stressed.

She hums and further cuddles into his chest. “Later.” She says. “Not now. Sleep now, talk later.”

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And later they did talk.

It took a few hours but Jazz patiently answered all of the questions she could over a late lunch. With just the two of them in the room, Jazz was more than willing to answer any questions Dick might’ve had. They exchanged numbers and promised to stay in contact. Sure they still had at least another week to spend in Paris but she sure as hell hoped that he’d stay away from her until they were back in the States. Of course, the universe couldn’t make this too easy otherwise she wouldn’t be a Fenton.

“Mr. Wayne, how nice to meet you.” Jazz says with a slightly strained smile as she shakes Bruce Wayne’s hand. She shoots Dick a scathing look. “I didn’t realize you were even in the country.”

“Of course I would be in the country.” Mr. Wayne says with that kind of air headedness that only those born with too much money have. “It’s not every year that my eldest son competes in the Olympics.”

Dick clears his throat. “This is the third time I’ve been in the Olympics, dad. You came to see me in Tokyo too.” He was wearing a fond smile and it made Jazz’s heart do a little flip in her chest.

“Really?” Mr. Wayne asks, his brows knit together in deep thought. Trying to figure out how he’d forgotten the event. Dick nods. “Hmm, my memory must be slipping from me in my old age.” Mr. Wayne says with some sort of faux concern.

Jazz keeps a pleasant smile on her face. Sure she might not be as knowledgeable about nearly all celebrities, but even she knew who Mr. Wayne was. It was kind of hard not to when Tucker would talk about Wayne Tech near constantly. Now that she thought about it, Jazz was fairly certain that she’d heard Sam complain about Mr. Wayne and his gaggle of adopted children. How had she not made the connection earlier?

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Jessica walking into the room. Jazz perks up at the potential escape. She catches her friend’s eye and they have a silent conversation with Jazz asking for her help and Jessica rolling her eyes but agreeing anyway.

“Jazz! Lucy and I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Jessica loudly calls as she walks over to the group. “C’mon! You’re gonna be late for your interview!”

Jessica didn’t even stop to consider just who she’d interrupted but ended up shuffling Jazz out of the room quite successfully.

“I-wait, I had an interview today?” Jazz asked in confused surprise.

“Uh, yeah.” Jessica said, rolling her eyes. “You’d think for a psych major you’d be more organized.”

“Hey!” Jazz complained with a pout. “I’ll have you know that I am actually very organized.”

“And yet here we are.” The smirk obvious in her voice, even if Jazz couldn't personally see her face.

Jazz rolled her own eyes and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later! It was nice to meet you Mr. Wayne!” She shouts with a mildly embarrassed expression.

Once they’re a safe distance away, Jazz slows down and looks over at Jessica. “I don’t actually have an interview that I seriously forgot about, right?”

“No, you do. It starts in like 10 minutes. So you better start running missy.” Jessica says with a devilish grin.

Jazz stares at her, wide eyed and disbelieving. “Seriously? Jess, what the hell!” And with that Jazz took off running with Jessica laughing manically in the background.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jazz sighed deeply as she relaxed into her economy class plane seat. It had been a very stressful last few days. What with dodging not only Dick but also Mr. Wayne. Because she had a feeling that they were going to pin her down and demand even more information out of her that she didn’t feel comfortable sharing without Danny’s consent. Though, as soon as she was able to get back home and talk with her little brother, she had a feeling that she’d be seeing more of Dick and his family.

Jazz sighs again and leans against the wall, looking out the window at the painted clouds beneath the plane. In all honesty she was just ready for a nap and a full course meal of Ectoplasm. Even with the surplus of ecto that was in Paris, it didn’t taste quite right. And it didn’t help when the whole waking up naked in bed with someone thing happened. She should probably ask Frostbite about that and if it had any lasting consequences.

“You ready to head home?” Lucy says, a large smile plastered on her face.

Jazz hums and closes her eyes for a moment. “Yeah. I think I’m ready to just be home right now. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks.”

“True that. Kinda sucks that we weren’t able to stay for the closing ceremonies as well. Hopefully next time we’ll be able to.” Lucy says in a cheerful tone. How was she so chipper when Jazz could feel the exhaustion dragging at her bones?

“I’m not sure I’ll even make it on the team for the next Olympics. Besides, this isn’t what I want to do for a living. I just got here through a very lucky set of circumstances.” Jazz gives Lucy a tired smile before laying down against the wall, looking back out at the slowly fading sun set.

“I don’t think you’ll be that lucky Jazz.” Jessica says as she twists around in her seat to face them. “I don’t think Coach would let you skip out after placing on the podium.”

Jazz just sighs overdramatically as her two friends giggle at her antics. And maybe it wasn’t all that bad? She had a new community that supported her and friends that didn’t judge her because of her background. Maybe she could keep doing this. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll see Dick at the next Olympics too. Jazz smiles softly at that thought. Yeah, that sounded nice.

DPxDC the Olympics AU.

Jazz is competing for sharpshooting

Dick is competing for team gymnastics

Y’all can work it out from there :)

[dokyumms]

patience

pairing: ot13 x fem 14thmember!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.5k

cw: cursing, teasing/nagging, drinking (they go to kbbq), emotionally sensitive reader, reader crashes out, reader is stupid as fuck 💀

synopsis: the members tended to make fun of you all the time, and normally you were fine with it, but now, you just couldn't take it anymore.

a/n: IM BACK GUYS - with another request ! although i feel like this sort of strayed from it. but i hope you still enjoy this kings. anyways, sorry i've been so busy, i have an exam coming up so i've been studying a lot (+ doing other assignments). i hope this could possibly make up for it ?

you were one more annoying comment from blowing up.

from debut, you knew that you were going to be prone to teasing, being the youngest member and all, and you'd actually been holding up pretty well. that is, until now.

it started with a filming day for 'going seventeen', seemed simple enough, fun even. i mean sure, the day before, when you found out the group was chosen to play mafia, you started contemplating your life, but you were used to it by now - or so you thought.

you were all seated in a row as a speaker explained the rules, something everyone had heard a few too many times by now, so you just tuned it out, opting to mentally prepare yourself instead. the members were definitely not mean, at least in the serious sense, but when it came to these things on camera, they could sure be annoying. the worst part? it was only because you just had to have an untimely birth, born only a couple months after dino.

after a couple minutes, the round started, but before you could even get up to go look for the cash, you were immediately accused, "hey doesn't y/n look a little suspicious already?" you turned in the direction of the voice to see jeonghan, looking at you with a smug grin as he pointed an accusing finger. "we haven't even done anything!" you argued back with a hint of laughter. he just smiled, waving you off before he went to go look for the cash. it was going to be a long day.

by the third round, you were frustrated. normally, you never took these things seriously, but you had literally investigated jun and he was one of the mafias! unluckily for you though, every time you tried to tell them, they dismissed you, "you know what? let's just vote y/n out, mingyu said he was the police already anyway?" and somehow every other member was convinced by minghao. you end up voted off without a second thought, shaking your head when the speaker tells everyone that you were in fact, not the mafia.

and guess what? the game ended with mafias mingyu, jeonghan, and jun winning. you watched in (not so) disbelief as they threw the money all over themselves. "you couldn't get us out y/n～" they sing-songed, dancing around you. it was like they had some personal vendetta against you. you just rolled your eyes, scoffing.

but it was all in a jokingly manner (you thought?), one mafia game would not break you. besides, there was still team dinner, something you were looking forward to the entire day.

you sighed in relief, greeted by the smell of korean barbeque as you walked into the restaurant. you were all seated at a circular table, surrounding a grill. "we should make the biggest loser in mafia order for all of us," seungkwan suggested. the table roared in agreement. unsure of who exactly this 'biggest loser' was, you nodded along until seokmin pointed it out, "hah! y/n why are you agreeing? unless you wanted to order that badly?"

you tilted your head to the side, confused, "but wasn't hoshi the first one out?" it seemed like for a moment, the members took your comment into consideration. then hoshi intervened before anyone could say anything, "but you're the youngest～plus, i just got killed off, none of the members actually believed you and you were voted out- that seems to be a bigger loss than mine!" He flashed that dumb smile afterwards. You groaned when the rest of the members nodded in agreement, tilting your head back as wonwoo patted your shoulder empathetically.

you hated ordering for everyone, always tripping up on your words in a rush to get through 14 different orders. not wanting to be a party killer though, you reluctantly agreed.

the waiter came a few minutes after the decision was made, asking for drink orders. you got through them fairly quickly, but then he asked if everyone was ready to order food and they all nodded. having most of the members' usual orders remembered, you told him whatever you recalled. then you got to a side dish that vernon really liked and you blank out, totally forgetting the pronunciation in korean.

the awkward silence was loud as you tried to piece the syllables together, finally getting out some very foreign-accented version of the word. you grimaced at your tone before quickly getting out the rest of the order. after the waiter left, there's about 10 seconds of quiet before the members burst out laughing.

"did you forget korean or something?" joshua teased. the rest of them continued to chuckle, adding other senseless comments. to you, this wasn't funny at all, but you knew their teasing didn't come with bad intentions, so just you excused yourself to the restroom after the laughter died down.

the face in the mirror wasn't pretty. you were red from embarrassment and your ears were hot with humiliation. you knew the members, they weren't mean, so why were you so upset? tears welled up in your eyes, not necessarily out of sadness, but you were overwhelmed. you splashed water on your face, thanking the power of waterproof mascara before patting it dry. it was fine, this was just some dumb moment you won't remember in 10 years, you thought to yourself before heading back.

by the time you had sat down, most of the food had already gotten there. wonwoo seemed to notice your long absence. "are you okay, y/n?" he studied your expression, trying to look for the answer. "yeah, lost track of time looking at myself," you said, almost cringing at how snarky your response was, but it was the best you could come up with. he just shook his head, "you're impossible," you grinned before shoving a piece of meat in your mouth.

the rest of dinner went well for the most part. someone brought up your side dish crisis every now and then whenever vernon ate it, suddenly making you thankful for the alcohol you ordered; the burn in your throat distracted you from whatever they said.

the next day, you were not so thankful for the alcohol, realizing too late that you had practice the next morning. you tried to ignore the pounding in your head, doing the bare minimum to get ready for the day.

as practice began, you couldn't tell if it was the border-line hang over that made everyone so irritating today, or just themselves. you were just stretching, preparing for the next couple hours of dancing when minghao came up next to you. "why do you stretch like that? you look kind of dumb," he commented. "you mean me doing a side lunge looks weird?" you were confused, but he just shrugged before going on his phone. that was odd, but that's just minghao being him, you thought, a little self conscious after the sudden poke.

then jeonghan came by to grab his water bottle that was near you, "hey little miss 'i don't know korean', how's that hangover?" you felt your eye twitch, could they not let that go? "hah, very funny, and i'm fine" you responded, trying not to sound too hostile. he just smiled smugly. "hm, if you say so," he said

2 hours later, your headache got worse if anything. after a run of 'super' you tried to get a drink, but dino stopped you. "what do you think you're doing? we're going again," you knew dino wasn't asking, he was telling you. if you didn't know him personally, you would've thought he was the oldest whenever it came to practice. either way, you were thirsty as hell, deciding he couldn't get that mad at a sip of water, you reached for your bottle. "what, did you forget korean again? come on, let's go!"

alright that was it.

"you know what? maybe i did forget korean!" you shouted. the whole room seemed to freeze, dino's mouth was open, but nothing came out, shocked by your sudden tone. everyone instinctively turned to seungcheol, their leader, but he seemed dumbfounded too. well, it was too late to turn back now, you thought.

"how many times has someone mentioned that in a sentence? can yall just leave it alone already? you think i'll just take everything because i'm some dumb maknae, don't you!" something in you knew you had to stop, but all the pent up anger in you just kept spilling out. there was a familiar feeling in your throat as you shouted, tears welled up in your eyes again.

"can yall just- just leave me alone!" you spat out, not being able to think of anything else to say before you ran out of the room as fast as possible, embarrassed and mad- at yourself. that was definitely not supposed to happen. voices called out after you, but you didn't stop. the adrenaline took you to some local park that you'd seen a couple times before.

you stopped to catch your breath, feeling more tears fall as you realized just how screwed you were. all of your stuff was still at the building; you didn't even have money on you. but you were not going back there, not after that full blown mess you made. the park wasn't all to unfamiliar though, with enough luck, you should be able to make your way back home. tired, you sat on a bench, watching the children play happily as couples went on their walks. you yawned, not realizing how tired you were till now.

looking around, you took note of how many people were there. you had a mask and cap on at least, so maybe a nap wouldn't hurt, or not even a nap. you would just rest your eyes...

*tap tap tap*

you rubbed your eyes- oh shit- you actually fell asleep here? suddenly aware of your situation, you practically fell out of the bench. "hey, take it easy," said an old voice, you looked up to the person who'd presumably woken you up. it was an old woman, a grandma even. she had her arms out, as if she was waiting to catch you whenever you woke up. i just noticed you were asleep here; it's getting late, you should go home soon." she said softly. she was right, the sun seemed to be setting already. most, if not all, the children were gone, leaving you, the woman, and a couple of teens at the park. you felt a sudden pang of fear, if this lady had just gotten here, that meant you were alone, vulnerable to the world.

as if she could read your mind, the woman put a hand on your shoulder, "don't worry, my daughter was watching over you earlier, but she had to go to work, so she called me to check on you," she explained. it was honestly a miracle. "do you need help getting home? i could point out the directions," she offered. you were about to decline, feeling like you knew the way before looking around again. maybe it was how fast your heart was racing or how dazed you were from sleep, but you felt like you couldn't think properly, at least not enough to know the direction. you nodded your head, telling her you lived near a popular shop. she gave you some basic directions.

you thanked her multiple times, honestly you were about to get on your knees, but she just waved you off. "it'll only get later if you keep thanking me, go home, child." saying goodbye, you raced home, recalling her instructions.

when your eyes caught onto some familiar buildings and signs, you let out a sigh of relief. glad that the woman hadn't lied to you. your pace slowed to a walk as you made your way to your apartment, making a full stop when you recognized two figures walking near the convenience store next to it.

you made them out to be seungcheol and mingyu, looking around anxiously. having a sudden realization that they were probably looking for you, you cowardly made your way toward them, not forgetting what you'd said earlier that day.

mingyu's eyes widened at the sight of you, "y/n?" he shouted, a little too loud for a public setting, running in your direction. you didn't get a chance to say anything before he engulfed you in a bear hug "holy shit y/n, where were you? did you know you left your phone at practice? we were so scared," he kept rambling as seungcheol came up behind him. "everyone else is at your place" he explained. "we're all sorry, y/n. we should stop joking like that..." he mumbled, almost embarrassed. it was a surprise, to see your leader look so shy.

"don't worry about it, let's just go home," you decided, raising an eyebrow when they immediately grabbed both of your hands. "just making sure you don't run away again," mingyu explained. you smiled, letting them drag you toward your apartment.

you were a little scared at the sight you were met with when you entered. people were everywhere, scattered amongst your living room in some frenzy. everyone seemed to gasp when they saw you. shy from the sudden attention, you felt like sprinting right back out the door, but seungcheol pushed you in.

after waving down nearly 50 apologies and "we were so scared"s, you went towards dino. he was a nervous wreck, sitting on the couch with his hands in his lap and his eyes looking everywhere but near you. you knelt in front of him. "dino," he didn't budge, looking straight past you, "chan, look at me," you held his face, directing it toward you. he looked like he'd been crying. "i'm not mad at you, i promise," you said in an attempt to soothe him. "i'm sorry y/n, i-" you cut him off with a kiss, an impulsive move for sure, but it did the job. "i know, i know. it's really okay,"

he didn't seem convinced, but he eventually caved in, giving you a hug. you heard the members in the background, complaining about how they didn't get a kiss, but whatever. "hah! she must love me more than yall," dino called out before wincing in pain when you pinched him.

you finally showered before sitting on the couch, sandwiched between jeonghan and wonwoo. everyone decided to sleep over, various sleeping bags, mattresses, and blankets dispersed among your living room. seungkwan argued with hoshi for a long time before choosing a movie before deciding on some new marvel movie you had heard of once of twice.

wonwoo came closer to you, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek. "you know, we were such a mess without you. don't leave us again." he whispered. "i can tell, look at the state of my living room," wonwoo chuckled and pulled you closer along with the blanket, ignoring jeonghan's complaint of how his legs were cold now.

"we all love you a lot, y/n."

"i know, i love you all too." you responded.

yes, your members could be dickheads every now and then, but sometimes it was worth it.

[achilles-rage]

Cookies

summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs. 

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state. 

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. 

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side. 

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is. 

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss. 

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his. 

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

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[factual-fantasy]

While I was watching Transformers: Prime, I noticed something odd about Knockouts face...

While almost all other bots face plates are a shiny metallic grey, Knockouts face is all white. At first I assumed it was natural, but it doesn't seem have a metallic shine to it... It looks somewhat matte to me.. Which led me to develop a headcanon.

Knockouts face IS naturally a metallic grey, like most Cybertronians. But since he cares so much about his appearance and looking stylish at all times.. he is upholding an old practice of having perfectly polished face paint. Something no one in their right mind would worry about now-a-days. Their planet has been ravaged by war, mountains of bodies lay in both the Cons, AND the Autobots wake. And Knockout has the nerve to be concerned about looking presentable??

I thought it would have been fitting for Knockout to paint his face, no matter how immature it made him look to the Autobots. And then I thought, why stop there? Imagine if there were these beautiful decorative pinstripings that you could have painted on your face plates. Perhaps for special occasions? Having someone professionally paint your plates could also have been very expensive back on Cybertron.. it could have even been a symbol of your social status..

So after all that brainstorming, these drawings were born! I imagined that Knockout would use gold paint for his pinstriping, though as you can see I haven't really decided on a pattern.. - -;

After I was done drawing Knockout and was getting ready to post, I started thinking about Breakdown..

I was thinking about the fact his face plates were orange, while basically everyone else I can think of has a shiny metallic grey. Maybe Breakdown has his plates painted too..? But Breakdowns face- while yes its bright orange- looks very metallic and appropriately shiny to me. So I figured that his orange plates were natural. Maybe discolored faceplates are a rare birthmark of sorts on Cybertron..?

Now, while I don't headcannon Breakdowns face plates to be painted, who's to say they cant be pinstriped? Knockout and Breakdown seem to be genuine friends in the show (at least in my AU they absolutely will be) so imagine how neat it would be if Knockout would paint these bold designs on Breakdowns face for fun? Imagine how much it would annoy Bulkhead to see Breakdown looking all dolled up. Is he even taking their fight seriously??

I wasn't really sure what color to use for Breakdown so I just stuck with white. And again I wasn't sure on the design 😅 But I like the concept! I think In future drawings I will always have some kind of decorative pinstriping on Knockout and Breakdown. It couuuld potentially be something they uphold when they become Autobots..? I guess I'll have to see how I feel when I get there <XDD

[syrenqinche]

I don't know, You tell me ~ Sylus

synopsis: Sylus is usually a very patient man but when you overstep your boundaries and make him reel with jealousy, you are in for the angst of your life, soothed over by some mind-blowing lovemaking.

content and warnings: smut, mdni! jealousy, miscommunication, possessive Sylus, angsty themes, silent treatment, teasing, provoking, p in v, org*sm denial, makeup s*x, dacryphilia, size kink, swearing

"My baby dragon." you type into your phone as a smile curves onto your lips. "Breakfast is ready, wanna come eat?"

*sent*

On alternate Sundays, the two of you take turns to make each other your favorite breakfast dishes. It was your turn today, and you had prepared a hearty meal for your boyfriend, the famed leader of Onichynus for the good people of the N109 Zone, but an adorable plushie for you, your beloved Sylus.

You wait for him to reply to your text or his heavy footsteps to descend the spiral staircase of his lavish condo, but none of it happens. You lean against the counter, watching the steam emanate from your freshly cooked dishes.

"Y/N?" you hear the sound of your name, but it isn't a deep, velvety voice saying it. It's Kieran.

"Oh, hey" you give Kieran a nervous smile. "Where's the bossman?"

"Oh, he-" Kieran's face is obstructed by his crow mask but you could tell he is panicking. "He left for work a while ago. Um, he won't be back until after lunch."

You furrow your brows at the boy. "What? He didn't tell me before going though. And what work on Sunday?" to which Kieran simply shrugs.

You turn your attention back to your phone and send him another text.

"Is everything alright, baby. Where are you??"

You see a *read* pop-up beside your message, but no reply following it.

You try to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. Normally, Sylus would respond right away—whether it was with a quick "I love you" or a silly comment about the breakfast you made for him. The fact that he hasn’t bothered to even text you back feels… wrong. It’s not like him. From the corner of your eye, you notice Kieran has started to fidget.

"You know something, don't you?" you narrow your eyes at the perplexed boy but he simply raises his hands. "I don't! Anyway, gotta run an errand. See ya, Y/N!" he blurts out, fleeing from the scene and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your appetite is gone now from anxiety pulling up in your abdomen, and you leave the spread you've made untouched and decide to unwind in the shower. You can't stop thinking about it and keep checking your phone every 5 minutes like a maniac to see if there are any updates from him. Heck, you even check the local news to see if anything is really up.

Time goes by like a snail on a journey and by the time the clock strikes 3 PM, you're exhausted from worrying.

You're laying on the bed, hopeless and shaky when the door to your room creaks open. You jump up and sit on your bed as Sylus enters the room, removing his leather jacket and placing his motorcycle helmet on one of the dressers.

"Where have you been?" you demand, slightly irritated. "And why haven't you been replying?"

Sylus uncuffs his sleeves and runs a hand through his light hair, heading towards the bath.

"I'm asking you something!" you raise your voice slightly, in case he somehow managed to miss what you said.

"Just busy." he replies shortly, voice devoid of much emotion.

Before he can shut himself in the bathroom, though, you get off the bed and run up to him frantically.

"Sylus, what's wrong, baby? Did I do something? You need to use your words." you say, holding on to his large arm with both of your shaky ones. He looks at you apprehensively and opens his mouth to say something.

Your phone cuts through the heavy air with three loud dings. You turn to look at it, and it starts ringing.

"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N." Sylus gives you a pained smirk as he removes his arm from your grasp and locks the bathroom door on your face.

He used my name. Not kitten, not sweetie, not honey! you think to yourself. It rarely happens that Sylus would resort to using your name. He adores you so much that he would come up with the cutest nicknames to call you.

You are stunned for a second and bite the inside of your cheek fervently on your way back to check your phone.

It's your hopeless, idiotic childhood friend spamming you again.

"Heyyy you uggo."

"Y'all reached home alright yesterday? you were pretty drunk, thank god your boyfriend came along to pick you up."

"Also what's with him, he's even bigger than me?? Also he looked like he wanted to strangle me?? WTF!!"

You sigh after reading the texts and start tapping away on your phone.

"Don't talk shit about him or I'll block you, Caleb. He's the most adorable person when you get to know him better."

you smile to yourself when you remember how your opinion of Sylus had transitioned when you got to know him better. You can't really blame Caleb here.

"Also, I reached home fine. Thanks for calling me, our class reunion went great. I wasn't hungover this morning, though, so was I even really that drunk?"

Caleb sent you a few thinking emojis.

"You were drunk enough to confess to me."

You almost dropped your phone when you read that. You didn't want to waste time texting, so you hit call. The phone rings twice before Caleb picks up.

"Hello?"

"Care to explain?" you hiss at him. "The fuckk are you talking about?"

"Oh calm down." Caleb dismissed you. "You were showing us a picture of your boyfriend, and the girls started swooning over him with endless praise to give."

"And?" you prod

"And well one of them asked what you'd do if the guy ever left you or broke up."

"He'd never-"

"Yes, let me finish." Caleb hissed back. "You told them you'd never do that and then perhaps as a joke, you mentioned that if he did, you'd hook up with and marry me, who had asked you out when we were little kids."

"You're right." you admit. "I certainly must have been drunk because what the hell, Caleb?"

"I know right!" Caleb feigned disgut but his voice sounded a little offended. "And that's when Mr. brooding handsome walked in. I think he just heard the last part. He looked taken aback, I'm not sure anyone else noticed because they were too busy gushing over how hot he was."

"Wait, Sylus heard what I rambled about?" you ask just to make sure. "He heard that I'd leave him and hook up with you?"

"Perhaps, that's my guess." Caleb acknowledges.

You feel as if someone had poured cold water on your head. It made sense now!

"Well thanks, mate. I needed this information. Talk to you later."

"But will you really marry me-"

you cut the call before he could finish.

Right on cue, Sylus exits the bath, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another one being used to dry his dripping hair. He doesn't make eye contact with you as he heads to the closet to look for a set of clothes to change into.

You approach him and run a finger down his wet back, making him curve it slightly at the stimulus.

"My baby..." you coo at him, hugging him from behind.

"You'll get yourself wet." he states, not turning around.

"Since when have you been afraid of getting me wet." you smirk, digging your face into his wide back.

"Let go," he mutters, his voice flat, as he attempts to pull away from your arms. But this time, you refuse to let go.

"Sylus, I'm sorry," you whisper, burying your nose into the warmth of his back. "I know what happened... it was a misunderstanding. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

At your words, he finally turns to face you. His crimson eyes burn with a mix of disappointment and hurt, and the sight nearly shatters you. It’s all you can do not to break down in front of him.

"You wouldn't be saying such things if you hadn't been thinking about them. Alcohol brings out people's true nature, sweetheart."

"I wasn’t thinking about it!" you protest desperately, the words tumbling out in a rush. "The girls were teasing me, and I just wanted to show them that you’d never leave me. The thought of it is so absurd that I could joke about marrying Caleb—because it wouldn’t happen!"

His gaze hardens, and his next words land like a heavy blow. "You know how I feel about being abandoned, don’t you, Y/N?"

Your heart skips a beat. "That wasn’t my intention! Please, just—"

"Forget it." he cuts you off. "I don’t want to hear it. Humans are vile creatures. They’ll shower you with love, only to rip it away in an instant, leaving you broken and bleeding." His words are heavy with old scars as he turns away, his figure retreating from you.

"Sylus, wait—" You try reaching out, but he doesn’t look back. He won’t listen.

"I need time alone. Sorry," he says without pause, his voice distant as he walks out, leaving you standing in the quiet emptiness of your ornate bedroom.

You cling on to the hope that maybe Sylus will come back. You did apologize after all. He'll surely come back by night. He will forgive you. Surely, right?

You lay on the cold sheets, eyes wide open, staring at the intricate patterns on the ceiling of your beautiful bedroom, completely devoid of sleep. His huge bed seems to have tripled in size when he's not there, entangled with you, pressing fluttering kisses to your stomach.

When you wake up the next morning, groggy from absolute lack of sleep, and head downstairs, you find the house deserted.

You feel a chill run up your spine but remind yourself that it is Monday and you need to head to the Hunter's Association Office for the day's work.

On the way there, you text him.

"Have a good day, Sy. How are you feeling now? See you in the evening?"

*read*

The day goes by, and you return to a cold, dark house.

Caleb calls to check on you, but you're too restless to answer. Your nerves are frayed, and the phone just sits in your hand, silent. Another sleepless night drags on.

"Sylus, I'm scared," you text him again, your fingers trembling as you type. The thought of him not replying makes your chest tighten. You stare at the screen, willing him to respond. Ten minutes feel like hours before your phone finally chimes.

"The house is secured. No harm will come to you."

Another long night passes. Then another endless day, filled with battles against wanderers and endless paperwork, all while you’re haunted by the emptiness in the space where he should be.

This time when you pass through the door to the house, you slump to the ground, shaking and your chest heaving. You hear a crow's caw in the distance as you will yourself to get up and drag yourself to the bedroom. You're already looking chalkier than before thanks to barely eating or sleeping these past three days.

You hug your knees close as you check your phone again. This time you don't text him and hit the call button.

He picks up in three rings.

"I miss you." you tell him only to be met by silence.

"Please, I miss you. I can't do this, Sylus." you hear his footsteps, going somewhere but no reply.

"Do you really hate me that much now?" you ask with a quivering voice.

"Can I enter?" he speaks finally and you hear a soft knock on your door. You gasp as the phone drops out of your hand and the door swings open, revealing an uncharacteristically disheveled Sylus, who rushes over to you, removing his coat.

Your stomach turns as he wraps his arms around you.

"I can never hate you and you know that." His soft tone is back as his lips move over the shell of your ear. You grab onto his shirt so hard, fisting balls of fabric as if he will disappear again if you let go.

"Mephisto has been monitoring you for days and reporting back to me. I never once left you unattended."

"I-I'm s-sorry. I'm really sorry. I never meant to make you feel abandoned. You know-" tears pool up in your eyes.

"Shhh, sweetie." he presses a long finger to your fluttering lips.

"I'm sorry, I went too far." he says, pressing his forehead to yours. "If you're able to forgive me, let me make it up to you."

Something sparks inside your brain and you stop crying instantly.

"You-" you pull at his hair. "You stupid, gullible, annoying little-"

"Ah, ah, ah! my hair." Sylus lets out a mock scream, holding your wrists.

"I hate you, Sylus." you climb on top of his crotch and pin him flat to the bed.

"Do you really think that low of me?" you ask, roughly grabbing his chin with three of your fingers. He looks at you with his red eyes widening with excitement and astonishment. "Do you think I'd ever able to fall in love with another man after meeting you?" you demand, twisting his chin.

"Do you think I can ever sleep with someone else after getting a taste of you, you demonic little dragon!"

"I know, I know, kitten." he starts but you cut him off by pinching his lips shut and sinking down on him, your lips a mere inch from his. Sylus parts them in anticipation but the kiss he so fervently desires never comes. He bucks himself up to smooch you but you retract your body, making him slump down in defeat and irritation.

"Please?" He asks, his deep voice getting deeper with lust.

You don't reply.

"Please, Y/N? I need you so bad. It's been four days now." he begs, narrowing his eyes. You had just made love the night before that incident and unbeknownst to you, both of you were yearning for each others touch in merely a couple of days.

"I don't know. I heard you but I'm not going to answer!" you tease him, crossing your hands across your chest. "Really?" He raises a brow as he grabs you by the wrist and brings you down over him yet again, the wet trail of tears on your cheek transferring to his face now.

He kisses you like a starved animal, forcing his tongue into your mouth. He cages your head with his hands and doesn't let you resurface for air until your lust gets the best of you and you begin to roll your hips over his crotch in languid circles.

"F-fuck." he gasps, breaking the kiss and looking down to where your body meets his. You kiss him deeper to take his attention away from your lower bodies and simulatenously, you unzip his pants, feeling his bulge grow and threaten to burst from under his briefs. You massage it gratefully and tenderly as it squirms in your hands.

"Excited now, are we?" you purr at him, separating your lips from his while a link of saliva keeps the two of you connected. You kiss his nose.

"It's getting so big, why does it feel like it's bigger than my hand." You take one look underneath you and his angry pink tip is poking out his briefs at this point, pointing at you with desperation in its color.

"Oh, Sylus~"

"Enough now." Sylus snaps, suddenly rising from his position and gripping your hips to flip your positions. He greedily pulls down your panties and holds each of your legs in his robust hands to pin them close to your ears, letting your knees fall on his shoulders for some support with your dress riding up and bunching underneath your sore breasts.

He licks his lips as he eyes your leaking pussy.

"What is this?" He purrs back at you. "And you said I'm excited?" he plunges a finger into you as it makes a loud squelching noise, making your hands race to you hold his one hand in both of yours.

"W-wait."

"If you don't want this, I'll stop." He states darkly.

You blush and pout at him.

"I wanted the cock..."

Something clicks in Sylus' head as his eyes start gleaming with a rush of excitement.

"Getting greedy, aren't we?" He says, freeing his grown manhood from the confines of his boxers. He strokes it a few times to prep it for its grand entrance.

"Nghh.. hurry!" you squeal, trying to grab at his cock from your vulnerable position but he catches your hands mid-journey.

"Calm down." He grins at you, rubbing your slimy clit with his bulbous tip.

"I've waited enough." you tear up. "I've waited for days! For you to even look at me again."

"You really want it that bad kitten?" he asks, his expression twisting into one of pride as he towers over you.

"I want it, I want it so much. I want all of it!" you moan out as he pushes the tip inside your wet hole and brings it out, earning a whine from you.

"Hmm...?" he cocks his head to the side, continue to glide his tip over your clit as you fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You wouldn't be able to, when Sylus is holding your thighs next to your head and your hands in his tight one-handed grasp.

He uses the thumb of his other hand to rub circles on your clit while he swipes his tip up and down your nether lips, humming to himself. It feels so good, you feel a bubble grow inside your stomach.

"Oh god, I-" you gasp. But right before the bubble could burst, Sylus retracts himself completely and you widen your eyes at him.

"What did you just-"

"I don't know, kitten. Couldn't give you your high for free when you plan to marry someone else, now, can I?" he smirks at you as you tear up even more.

"N-no! Put it back!"

Sylus leans over and presses his tongue to your clit before your high can completely fade away.

"Yes! Yeah, like that!" you scream as flicks your sensitive nub and continues to hum, sending explosive pulsations throughout your nerves.

"Oh, oh! Sy-"

And then he retracts again.

This time, you fight against his grasp to grab his neck. But he's too big. Too strong.

He merely chuckles at your weak attempts to free yourself.

"Seriously, fuck you!" you screech at him. "Fuck you, Sylus."

"Ahaha, look at my angry little kitten. I love to tame you like this." He smiles at you with love but you just want him to fuck the brains out of you right now. You wriggle enough of your hand out of his grasp to start rubbing yourself but he is quick to notice.

"There, there." he pushes your hand back into his iron hold.

"Fine kitten, let me make sure you forget someone by the name of 'Caleb' even exists."

With that he finally puts his cock into your weeping hole, halfway. I-it won't fit just yet, earning an explosive gasp from you. Sylus cocks an eyebrow at you.

"T-too big." you manage to say.

"Oh, do I-"

"No!" you protest. "More. I want all of it. Put it all in. It's mine. Only mine."

"Look at you, sweetie. Sure you can take all of it? have my doubts." he teases but you are determined.

"I'm leaking all over the bed, now's the chance, Sy." you reassure him and with a smooth motion, he puts in his entire length into making you see the stars. It takes you a few seconds to come back to Earth when he finally starts moving. He's fully folded you into a mating press now, his sweat dripping onto your chest as he grunts and groans, his tip hitting your cervix at this point.

"More! I want more!" you say as if it was even possible to take in more but it just motivates Sylus to increase his pace and intensity. His wet hair now sticking to yours as he doubles down.

You feel your orgasm building up again with each powerful thrust of his.

"Remind me, who do you belong to?" he rasps, nearing his own high.

"That stupid fuckface. I'll bury him alive if I see hiim again."

"Sy-Sylus!" you scream, your insides tingling and your walls pulsating around his girth. "You! I only belong to you! I'm all yours!"

"That's right kitten." he growls. "You're only mine." with this he picks you up and place you onto his lap, pounding up into you hopelessly. With a near feral moan, you come undone on him and he follows after soon, shooting copious amounts of his seed right into you. The both of you rasp and gasp as you come down from your respective highs, pressing your foreheads together.

He doesn't pull out even when his cock goes soft and you smile sheepishly as you kiss his eyelids.

"My dragon. Only mine..."

You place a final kiss on his lips, chaste yet loving. Sylus looks at you like you're his entire world.

"If you pull this shit again baby." you warn him, keeping steady eye contact. "No sex for you for the next six months."

He gives you his signature smirk. "I'll just marry Caleb then." he says making you roll your eyes at him and punch his shoulder as the two of you giggle and pull the blanket over your heads.

[alienpossession]

Feeling challenged by @mindmelter and I'm currently feeling inspired, so enjoy my take on this cult classic, I try to depart from @fullfriendnerdpurse Part 4 that you can re-read here to refresh your memory

Adventure of Jim and Zim: It Runs in the Family

*ding dong*

Huh.....I'm not expecting any guest....Daddy also said nothing about a guest coming today. Who could this be?

*ding dong*

Daddy is in the shower too, uggghhh this is so annoying, isn't he supposedly serve all my biddings and do these kind of menial stuff for me? I'm literally this close to shoot! If this is a mere regular DHL package stuff, I'll be very upset

*ding dong*

"WAIT UP, I'M COMING DOWN!" I screamed as I put my underwear and shorts on while trying to climb down the stairs

Right as I opened the door, slightly exasperated from the rush and my cock still semi inside my sweatpants, the sight in front me literally take me aback. What a fine specimen this guy is. That rugged face, the hazy judgmental eyes framed by that angular jawline....and God damn that black shirt really be tight everywhere as if he purposefully selected his shirt 2 sizes smaller when in fact it's just because this fine shit really got massive shoulder, pecs and biceps! Before the drool managed to escape my lips, I sucked it back in and control my perverted thoughts

"What can I help you with?"

"Ohh, am I in the right house? I'm looking for Nicholas Stone,"

"Uhh--- ohhh--"

"Is that who I think it is?" said Daddy from the stairs with just his sweatpants as he excitedly come down the stairs

"Damn right it's me," said the imposing guest as he casually shoved me away to hug my fucking Daddy as they both immediately embraced warmly followed with laughter as if this stranger is family. As Daddy probably realized my confusion while hugging the stranger, he winked and suddenly my cock stirred awake in excitement. Is this stud going to be added to the compound too???

"So, I guess you met our neighbor's son already, he's helping around here with cleaning and all, you know how the boys are super busy with their athletic schedule, they don't have time to do chores, they're not girls after all," he said with that venomous misogynistic shit he purposefully slide there as if telling me that he knows how to act like the masculine tough alpha asshole patriarch of the Stone family to the tee

"Well, if that's what you think about women, you can do us a favor and hire hot chicks to do that instead. Are you gay or something?" the not-so-little Daddy's little brother said, I noticed the wedding ring so maybe that's why he's irked with what Daddy said

"Now you're being stupid. He's available and he's willing to help, and at least I don't have to think about fucking my own maid or something. Imagine having a girl working for us 3 dudes, either she's gonna wet herself or she would end up accuse us of assault or shit when I fired her ass. Okay, why don't you two get your bag while I prepare the guest room?"

He rolled his eyes and noticed my expression listening to Daddy's misogynistic tirade. I was in awe on how Zim or just the little fragment of Zim managed to carry such a convincing performance, but apparently Daddy's little bro assumed that I was uncomfortable.

"Sorry for my big bro, he's a nutjob sometimes. What's your name again?" He casually opened the conversation as we walked to the driveway

"J---Jim,"

"Okay Jim, nice to meet you. I'm Alex, hope my big bro doesn't rough you up for all the smallest details, he's quite the control freak, and obviously, a macho straight alpha and stuff, you must have heard his streams and podcast right?"

As I picked up the bags and let him chat with me, my mind simply wandered to the way Daddy talked me through sex and went very particular on what he wanted and how he wanted me to pleasure him.

Not to mention the countless hour Daddy put me under the desk sucking his cock while he played his game doing all those streaming. The way he talked about his workout routine or this alpha right stuff in between shooting dudes online or collecting items while making sure that his cock remain lodged deep inside my throat created this heady duality that always turned me the fuck on. He sounded and acted so straight to all his 350k followers but literally at the same time, I have his thick, veiny 8 incher monstrosity sucked clean and his cum guzzled with not a single drop to the floor.

The way he would also instruct the boys on how to ravage me in the sound-proof bedroom upstairs while he recorded his podcast with the guest down in the altered basement..... then, he joined Carter and Dean to fuck the shit out of me despite talking about the sanctity of marriage or how to be an alpha men in the 21st century for 2 hours or more just moments before, well, I guess he is indeed a control freak. But it's not like he's in control of his own body or his action, he's just a mere puppet anyway. A mere puppet that can play the role of a macho straight alpha control freak to the tee.

"Jim??? Jim??? Hey, bro, are you there?" Alex said as he offered to take his bags that I already grabbed because apparently I just lost track of time and simply stand here like a fool after only one round of picking up his bags

"Ohh....sorry. Please, let me,"

"Well, okay then, you held the last two bags anyway. Long day?"

"Uhhh yeah.....very long, so sorry, just need to zone out a bit,"

"And your shift ends at?"

Oh yeah, I'm the "next door neighbor/helper". Will Daddy convert him or something? Where the fuck I should stay to keep up with this lies? So I just come out with random number

"6, 6 PM,"

"Well, consider this as 6 PM. It's okay, I'll talk to him about it,"

"U---uhhh, no need, I can manage,"

"No, I insist. Just go back to your house, I'll help him around,"

"O--- okay. But I still have some of my stuff upstairs. I'll grab it first and then I'll go,"

Damn sir, you're way too nice I'm starting to hate you, like.....yes you wouldn't understand but I really want to see Daddy to take you over, sir. I wanna see that look of betrayal in your eyes when your own older brother turned you into a fucking mindless puppet!

As I climb the stairs, Alex is speaking in the kitchen to Daddy about how I need to be "relieved of my duty for the day". The rest of the conversation turned into fading sounds so I pick nothing up as I also need to think. Should I ask Rick to pick me up? I haven't checked up on him for a while anyway, so that sounds like a plan. As I opened the door to my bedroom, the sight of a scattered gym bag surprised me beyond belief. Isn't this one of Alex's??? Right when I turned around, Alex already grinned at me as he somehow already stand behind my back

"Well well well, aren't you an interesting gay boy," that eyes.....OMG, he's taken over!

Like a click in my brain, I started to really embrace the fear of getting caught. I know where this is heading, and I love the prospect of it

"I--I can explain,"

"Oh, the state of your room is enough of an explanation. I've been searching for this one bag because I wanna hit the gym with my bro, but somehow it's not in my room. Turns out, as expected, you picked this bag up so your horny faggot perversion can be fulfilled by sniffing through my entire gym bag? And you think I will not notice that it's gone???"

He pushed me inside the room and that caused me to trip over his shoes and clothes as I fall to the floor, my gaze lingers on his massive, towering hairy form with my mouth intentionally opened a bit as I wanted to look as awestruck as possible

"Well, big bro is doing some stuff downstairs, so until he's done, maybe I can put that gaping mouth of yours to good use,"

He lowered himself as his arms seemingly tried to entrap me as I can't tell whether he wanted to reach something behind me or pinned me down to the floor. Turns out, he grabbed one of his sneakers on the floor and shoved it to my face. I huff it with delight as I can finally get the sense and put an exact smell on Alex. Fuck this is an insanely reeked foot prison....did he just use this today?

"Smells nice for your perverted homo mind, huh? Ran 10k in it this morning before I drove all the way here. Probably the previous night 3 hours gym sesh also amplified its nastiness, but I know your kind loves it,"

If that's a real human speaking, I'll take offense with that degrading "your kind" commentary, but I know it means no harm when it comes from the mouth of a brain-dead puppet with no free will. He slapped the sneakers away as I tried to grab it and fully explore it on my own, his face a bit red but there's no mistaking that predatory gleam that plastered his face. He grabbed my head and instantly shoved it right to his armpit, giving me access to the already exposed hairy pit I've been focusing on the past few minutes

"Yeah Jimmy, good boy, I know you'll lap this shit up,"

And well I am indeed lapping his pits like there's no tomorrow. The way the pits hair are wet and slightly curled up, the sheen of sweat that stained it because he just lifted like 10 bags of his, the pungent, heady aroma his body created, I think I'm in the 7th heaven of pit mania or something. I cannot tell how he looked at me but I bet he's pleased with the service provided as I can hear his subtle oohs and aahhs as I traced his veiny, hairy arm, peck his neck and strong, defined shoulder and even grazed my tongue all over his exposed pecs. He grabbed me by my hair once more and stared at me deeply with his hazel eyes, and then he spits on my face and let out a chuckle

"Get naked and get yourself loose. It's time,"

I of course quickly undressed myself and hop on the bed for the fucking of a lifetime. But imagine my surprise when Daddy walks in on us with a horrified expression. But what comes out next from his mouth surprised even me

"Starting this all without me? Fucking my own cunt under my own room without asking for my excuse? Well lil bro, gym sesh cancelled, I'll teach you manners and respect to the patriarch of the house instead for today,"

Pete grabbed the already naked Alex like he weighed nothing and toss him to the bed, right next to me.

The springs groan from the massive thud but that's nothing compared to the sound it makes when Daddy Pete shredded his clothes apart. Sensing imminent violence, I quickly get out from Daddy's way and sit on the chair right next to the table in the other side of the room. As expected, yet still managed to make me hard as a rock, Daddy started pounding his own lil bro in a midst of fury

"Fucking....disrespectful.....ugghhh...brat!" said Daddy Pete as he grunted and groaned with slight pauses every time more of his inches swallowed by Alex's hole

Alex screamed like crazy as his hole never been spread beforehand as he's straight through and through, and it doesn't help his case that his first dick is his own older bro girthy monster. Being too loud, Daddy fished out the socks he could pick and stuff Alex's mouth to keep it shut

"Fucking my own....cunt....gghhhhhrRRAHHh.....without asking.....aaaUUGHHHh FFUUUCCK.....my permission? Did your stupid.....wiffeHMMMM.....taught you to....fucking disrespect your elder?"

As Alex started to cry from the pain as his back arched and his hole stuffed, my hand is calmly operates on autopilot as without a thought, I just simply fap to the beautiful sight in front of me. In the middle of the perfect fucking motion, Pete released Alex's mouth from the cotton plug of the now-soiled socks and that's when Zim appeared from Alex's ear

"From scale 1 to 10, how do you like this arrangement?" asked both of them in unison while staring at me despite continuing the whole fucking

"10 out of 10. You are insane for this," I said with a grin

"Well, come beneath us. You will love what comes next,"

"Beneath you two?"

"Yeah, don't say that you're afraid of getting crushed or something," said Zim as he reached Pete's shoulder and prepared to settle inside the massive older brother body

Tempted, I make my move as they stopped their fucking for a few seconds to let me slide to the bed and watched them as if I'm a porn movie cameraman shooting from below my subjects. As I get myself in place, like a game, the fucking restarted once more

"UNGHH FUCK FUCK YOU, GRRR DON'T YOU DDDDAAAARREE TO NOT MOAN YOU WHORE AAHHHH" Pete said as his plowing get intense in an instance and I can see Alex's face turned from agony to pleasure to agony again in such quick motion

"UNGGHH UNGGGHHHHAAHH I'M YOUR LITTLE CUUNNNNTTT BROOOO. Fuck this straight ass and turn me gay with your load daddy!" He said excitedly while winking at me

Pete grabs Alex chest and twist his nipple. He yelps like a bitch in heat by that sudden twitch and then the older one slam his dick so deep, I'm pretty sure something or some bones might have been broken. The slamming caused me to be pressed deep to the bed as I can hear the springs groan loudly like a backsound to the most brutal fucking I ever witnessed. As the pressure keep increasing, Alex started to crash under the pressure and fully pinned me to the bed as his hands that once hold him steady from all the onslaught started to falter. Squeezed as the bottom patty in this sexual encounter, my face now is right on the Alex's hairy pecs while his gorgeous mushroom top placed just right above my belly button. His whole body odour filled my nose while his sweat literally slicked not only his body, but mine too. Gobs of drool came out from his mouth and trickled down to his chin and then beard before landing on top of my hair while his eyes turned white from all the pleasure

"MFF....MFFM.....BRROOOO.....PPPppllleaaseee......fffuuucckkk....I'm....I'm so cLOSEEEAHHH,"

"YEAH??? ME TOO BRO! KEEP SQUEEZZING YOUR HOLE, CUNT, I'M SO FUCKING....NGGHHH....CLOOOSEE......FHHFHFHHHHHHHFFFUUUUCCKK,"

Moments later, not only sweat and drool, my body is flooded with the incredible amount of cum released from Alex's body while additional cum from Pete flows from Alex's stuffed hole and I can feel it starts to blend down there too. Mine? Well, it already spurted mere seconds I laid myself down here so this is already an incredible mess in the highest proportion

As both men then retreated from the bed and just stand right in front of the window, I'm literally basking in the afterglow as Zim already jumped off Pete and started eating the feast he managed to spurt out from the brothers.

"Hmmmm.....despite looking similar, I can easily tell the difference," Zim said through both men as if they are his human microphone

"Alex has the best diet. It tasted almost sweet, with better texture too. He will be a great addition," said only Alex as if he seemingly pride himself with the quality of his cum while his hand grabbed his ballsack and subsequently the floppy 6.5 incher cock

"Well, I want more," continued the hairy stud as he suddenly let out yet another moan. The most incredible thing happened in front of my eyes as his ballsack that already squeezed dry suddenly gets filled once more while his floppy cock hardened right in front of my eyes. In an instance, the cock leaks this huge amount of cum like a faucet, creating this pool of cum on the bedroom floor. Zim, like an experienced diver, goes head first to the cum pool his latest vessel just created

"We will clean the leftovers on you, I'll swim in Alex's sweet manna while waiting for you to clean up," both men said monotonically as they leaned over to start licking me clean

What a crazy afternoon this has been......

[angelltheninth]

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders Keep You Company Until the Rain Stops

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, tension, kissing, rainy day, stuck in a classroom together, making out, grinding, keeping warm, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: It's been raining for three days. God, please, I want to see the Sun again!

Riddle complains about it a lot, not the rain itself but the fact that everyone knew it would be raining and yet you forgot your umbrella. When his little rant is finally done he motions you to sit down and takes a seat opposite of you. As long as you're here with him you might as well use it to spend some time together as a couple. Even if its not the most ideal thing he can still give you a few kisses to take your mind off things.

Leona wanted to tease you about getting stuck in the classroom, but then he realized that he doesn't have an umbrella either. He likes the rainy weather because it's perfect for a nap. But with you with him he won't be getting any sleep at all. Oh well, you're stuck together until it dies down, which means he can spend all this time with you on top of his lap, kissing you or unbuttoning your shirt so he can leave hickeys and bite marks on your breasts.

Azul doesn't mind getting wet from the rain but he knows you could catch a cold. He could walk you back and warm you up after but he would rather spend some extra time with you if he has the chance to and doesn't have to think about his duties. Your company is so much better than having to go to his Dorm after class and still not have any peace. So he will gladly keep you company for as long as he needs to, as a matter of fact you could forget your umbrella more often.

Kalim offered to share his umbrella with you because he hates the idea of you getting sick and not being able to see you afterwards. If you would rather stay in the classroom and wait it out then he will stay too, he won't leave you alone. The two of you can spend of that time doing homework, after all if you do it now you can have more free time for your date later. However it's hard for him to focus when you're sitting on his lap the whole time.

Vil starts flirting and accusing you that you just wanted more alone time with him. He applauds your efforts but you could have just asked him for a date, he would gladly go with you anywhere you wanted to go. As you're blushing he tilts your head so he can kiss you and take your mind off the rain outside. You and up sitting on your desk, with your legs wrapped around him, moaning his name, grinding against him urgently, until the rain stops.

Idia refuses to let you go out in this weather, if he did he would feel that it's his fault you got sick. To make sure that doesn't happen he pulls you against him, hugs you, and throws his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm. It might be a bit of an overreaction but he's just trying to look after his girlfriend's health. Cuddling is simply the best way to keep you warm, yes he could just use his powers, but this a lot more enjoyable for you both.

Malleus is annoyed that it started raining just as class ended and he didn't even bother to check the weather for that day. And apparently neither did you, but that could have something to do with you spending your whole night with him. So in a way this is his fault, therefore he agrees that you can keep each other company for a while. The rain will stop eventually, until then he is more than happy to spend his time making you gasp his name when no one can hear.

[inlovewithpandora]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ When you and JJ are having a heated argument, going back and forth about something stupid, you’re tired of talking so you think of the perfect idea to shut him up: flashing your tits in his face.

Music Advisory — Featuring: JJ Maybank // fem!reader, light angst [slight arguing], light teasing, smutty descriptions/mentions [breasts, titty fucking, implied p in v], flashing [from reader] very suggestive ending, usage of pet names

Duration — 1.0k words

Words from Artist — This is the first time I’ve written for JJ so I’m excited for you all to be reading this! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I enjoy reading y’all reactions and would love to hear your thoughts <3

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

The argument started over something stupid, something neither of you will probably even remember tomorrow but currently JJ’s standing in front of you, red-faced and fuming, hands on his hips as he runs his mouth about something you could honestly care less about. “You always do this!” he accuses, blue eyes blazing with fire. “You push and push, and then when I call you out, you act like—like I’m the crazy one!”

You scoff, not believing JJ is trying to make it seem like you’re the crazy one. “Oh, I’m the crazy one? JJ, you’re the one yelling like a lunatic over—what was it again? Me going to that party with Sarah?”

“Yeah, that damn party with Sarah!” JJ repeats with emphasis, throwing his arms in the air, pacing like he’s about to wear a hole in the floor. “You know damn well there was gonna be trouble there with those kooks, but do you care? Nope! You just do whatever the hell you want!”

You roll your eyes, not appreciating his attitude or tone of voice. “Oh my God, JJ, it was just a party. I wasn’t walking into a war zone.”

“You might as well have!” He turns around to face you again, frustration practically radiating off him. “You know how crazy those parties get! And when shit hits the fan, guess who’s gotta deal with it? Me!”

You’re so done with this argument now, you’ve practically checked out and just let JJ argue with himself. His protectiveness is sweet. You love that he wants to make sure you're safe at all times and out of harm's way but right now, his concern is just annoying when the party wasn't even that bad.

The fact that he looks ridiculously good all riled up and upset isn’t helping. While your eyes are focused on his large callous hands waving in the air, imagining how they would feel for his palms to roam your body, an idea pops in your head. A terrible, impulsive, yet perfect idea that’ll make him shut up, carry you to the bedroom, and put you through the mattress.

“Jayj.”

“What?”

With his attention fully focused on you, without a second thought, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lift it, flashing him mid-sentence. When his eyes hone in on your round, plump breasts, JJ completely freezes up. His mouth hangs open, his train of thought derailing so fast it’s almost comical. His hands, which had been wildly gesturing a second ago, drops to his sides like his brain had short-circuited.

You bit back a smirk, enjoying watching his eyes dart down, then up, then down again. JJ’s is definitely a tits type of guy, he’s practically obsessed with yours and loves giving them his attention whether that’s in the bedroom when your having sex, when you both are cuddling and he wants to use them as a pillow, or coming up to you and giving them a light squeeze just because.

JJ’s still standing there, looking like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. “Are you—” His voice cracks, trying to reframe his thoughts. “Did you just—?”

“Did i just flash my tits in your face? Yes, I did.” You say smugly while letting your shirt fall back down, feeling proud of how one look at your breasts and he’s practically lost for words.

“That’s—that’s dirty.” he mutters, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his mind and ignore the strain that’s forming against his pants. Then, as if remembering why he was mad in the first place, he straightens up, his expression going. “But that doesn’t change the fact that—”

You sigh dramatically, not understanding why he’s still running his mouth about the same topic. You realize that you have to crank things up a notch, do something that you know will shut him up for good. You move closer until you are right in front of him, your voice dropping to something teasing and sweet. “JJ,” you interrupt, tilting your head with a sly smirk dancing across your lips. “Do you really wanna keep running your mouth about some dumb party or you wanna come show your girls some love?”

When your boyfriend watches you pull your shirt up for the second time, putting your breasts on display and swaying your chest lightly, causing them to move in the wind, his breath hitches. His jaw clenches like he wants to stick to his argument, but with the warmth stirring in his groin, his cock aching, begging to fuck your tits until his cum spills onto your flesh, he decides to put the argument on hold and accept your alluring invitation.

“You fight dirty, princess.” He grumbles, his hands cupping your breasts, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples, making a soft whine come from your lips. “You think flashin’ those pretty tits in my face is gonna get you out of trouble?” He says with a heated tone, dipping his head so his lips hover just over yours. “Nah, sweetheart. That just earned you some.”

Before you can react, JJ bends slightly, gripping your thighs and hoisting you up against him, making your breasts press against his chest. You yelp, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him while he’s already walking, carrying you toward the bedroom like he’s got a plan brewing in his mind.

“You wanna distract me? Fine.” he says, kicking the door open before tossing you onto the bed. He stands at the edge, eyes raking over you like he’s deciding what area of your body he’s going to give his attention to first. His smirk turns sharp, almost predatory as he starts unbuckling his pants, pulling his boxers down and allowing both articles of clothing to fall at his ankles. Once you're naked underneath him, he lines the bulb of his cock with your already dripping entrance and slipping the tip inside, making you gasp from the delicious stretch. “Let’s jus’ see if you can handle what happens next.”

Fanbase — @sturnstarkeylvr @desigyall @princessadaniii8 @gillybear17 @rafestoothbrush @daisywonderland @saturnsdevilz @shadyshadyy @m-mally @jj-maybank944 @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @ims1 @ietss @shimmeringana @anything4yooongi @genesis-p4l-love @oatmealisweird @rafesslutt @artbymin @hot-cheeto5739 @maiacroson @7ds4ever @miaaalovesyou

[ragde890]

Chainsaw Man #194 analysis

So... Chainsaw Man 194.

I can't help but think about Power with the first scene. Two chapters ago, Denji mentioned her. And now we've got a first page very reminiscent of the composition of chapter 71 —almost mirroring it.

It doesn't end there, however. I find the next page is also reliving —in this cycle Denji seems to be trapped in— the "Bat Devil Arc" (chapters 4-12).

Back then, Denji was in a very similar state to his current one. He found his life empty and meaningless and his trauma, simple thinking, lack of socialization and toxic relationship with society, sex, gender and himself led him to gaslight himself into believing that what he really needed was sex. During his whole "rescue Nyako" thing, for example, despite the fact that he obviously felt empathy towards Power and wanted to help her because he could relate to her feelings (having lost Pochita himself), he still gaslit himself into believing he was "only doing it for boobs". In fact, Denji thinking about himself as some kind of unfeeling monster or animal (or dog, as he was called by the Yakuza and Makima alike), trying to interpret anything in terms of "biological needs" is a self-destroying attitude that has persisted until now.

The only difference with that and his current way of thinking is that now he's at the very least self-conscious (although he is still unwilling to accept the times he's been a victim of SA and blames himself from it/is trying to convince himself he has/should have like it.), and the trauma is much bigger.

Then, the immediate page after this opening displays something that was already shown in the "Bat Devil Arc".

Denji, despite being hypersexual, stuck in a loop of death and violence, and in the case of these last chapters, pretending he can live "like a Devil", is not at his core a bad person. He cares about consent, he values the people around him, he doesn't wish harm.

Fujimoto feels the need to reiterate this because we've seemed Denji do fucked up shit these last chapters (eating the tree people, "enjoying" Yoru's destruction and killing spree) and we're probably gonna see even more.

In the next pages, we see that he's well-aware of how fucked up the situation is, but his casual demeanour shows that he's not really facing how *serious* the situation really is: like he doesn't want to truly face reality.

Again, we turn to the omnipresence of Fire . First in the news, that show the destruction caused by both Yoru and the Fire Devil, and then, a bit subtler, with Denji cooking Gyozas —with the paneling emphasising the fire on the stove.

The next page yet again reinforces Denji's new (old, in fact, but I'm referring to its post chapter 183 version) mindset of living like an animal/devil: caring only about "sensory pleasures" like eating, sleeping or sex.

It also makes the yuxtaposition of "everyday life" and destruction/apocalypse that's been on for the last arc even more obvious.

After that, we get to the next scene.

Some people might have not noticed, but this "One month from now" dialogue is implying a timeskip. "Two weeks" in universe ago, Barem said "Half a year", so... When was the 5 month timeskip? After Denji was captured by PS? During this chapter, after the first scene (in which case, Asa was 5 months in the backseat?)? For now, it's a mystery. 

Right after that, we've got what looks like a callback to chapter 131, with Fami using what seems like the same kind of excuse Nayuta used back then. If we believe Fami is being honest here, then she was sincere as well in that interaction with Nayuta, and we'd finally have some characterization for her. It does indeed look like she's given up: she doesn't believe she can defeat the Death Devil anymore, so she's trying to enjoy what little life she has left (maybe even in *imitation* to Nayuta).

This next interaction with Yoshida is also interesting. He looks legitimately serious here. His "I'm no fun, huh?" is not one of his usual quips: he's genuinely agreeing to Fami's comment, and accepting as his reality.

Yoshida's painfully accepting that he's never had and will never have the fun/joyful live of a normal highschooler. Death will soon come and everything he'll have experienced are his practised smiles, fake connections and isolation. He's always been an outsider, unable to form connections with his peers, having shaped himself to be a Devil Hunter first and a human second (if at all). This is the alienating world he's chosen, that has forced him to cut all sensorial and social aspects of live. Until he is, as Fami described, no fun at all.

And he suffers all of this completely alone because the mask he's created for himself doesn't allow others to see the pain. He's shaped himself as a "necessary evil", a tool to serve PS, his whole existance defined by his job. He's one of the only main characters that take the treath of the Death Devil completely seriously. He wants the world to be saved, at the expense of his own life, because he wants to do the right thing (that's when he does "evil" things in order to "save the world", he still feels bad about it, like when he had to imprison Denji). But in order to do that, he has to sacrifice himself and his individuality. He believes live is about sacrifices, that wanting more than the choices you're given is selfish, that normalcy is about fitting in the box that's been constructed for you. A completely selfless, "lawful" ideology that goes completely against Denji's.

Yoshida craves human connection, but he can't get it at all, so he buries this need in books, tv and parasocial relations. Even when he tried having an actual connection with Denji, it didn't work at all. He's so painfully lonely and feels that's how it'll be forever. If anything, he acts as a perfect foil for Denji: both craving for actual human connections, and both adopting completely opposite but equally toxic mindsets to cope with the fact they can't get them. Both being forced into being used as tools, objects, but never people.

Then we get to the last scene. After a page of Yoru and Devil "hanging out" as devils, Asa finally takes control of her body again.

It's quite sad that even here, Denji still can't tell the difference of when it's Asa and when it's Yoru. That he still sees them as one big entity is very fucked up.

About Asa's situation right now, I don't know what'll happen. Her situation is as bad and traumatic as Denji's right now. Let's not forget that she's also been a victim of Yoru's SA (it was her body, after all), and she feels responsible for it. Not only that, but she's been forced to see how Denji completely disregards her to happily hang out with her abuser.

Furthermore, her entire motivation has "just" (depending on the precise location of the timeskip) been torn apart. All the stuff about "beating chainsaw man to save Denji" that Fami told her was pure lies, with Yoshida and Yumiko admitting that they want the War Devil to turn CSM into a weapon. She had convinced herself that saving Denji was her responsibility, her purpose, and now she's found out that she's just been used, and the situation just keeps worsening. What does she have left now?

For the record, I don't think she'll attack Denji next chapter. But it'll be as easy as talking it out either. This next arc will most surely be a tough one, as we're getting progressively closer to Part 2's climax.

[madthetruemad]

stubborn heart ch. 13

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

cw ; light smut, oral (f receiving, fingering)

“Dearest Capitano, who is this?”

You flinched slightly at the way the woman spoke to you, but you managed to hold your ground.

“She is my-“

Before he could finish the woman had hugged his arm tight, her breasts practically pushing against his arm. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things correctly as you stood in front of the two. The woman regarded you for a moment, her eyes scanning you up and down before she tsked at you, “quite the servant you have if you let her prance around in nothing but her night gown.”

The woman then let her arm fall from his as she raised one of her hands to twirl a piece of her hair between her fingers.

“She is not my servant”

“I can see that, a whore then,” the snide remark left her lips like a whip as you took a step back, “and dearest Capitano?”

“…”

“Before I take my leave, will you be so kind as to offer me dinner.”

You felt someone pull at you from behind, most likely Atri as you found yourself in line with the other servants. But your eyes couldn’t leave Capitano. Not when your heart was hurting so much.

“Another time,” Capitano answered smoothly and woman grinned as she took a step closer to him and leaned in – her lips ghosting against the metal jawline to his helmet before she pulled away, “then I’ll be waiting for that next time,” she said with just as much confidence. Her perfectly painted lips curving into a sly smile as she sent him a wink before taking her leave. The double doors to the mansion had closed behind her the moment she left and you could see her carriage ride off in the distance through one of the windows.

The hall was silent before Capitano broke it into pieces.

“Leave us.”

The servants were quick to scatter to their respective hiding places, even Atri had left you to your so called husband. And when Capitano couldn’t hear another servant’s breath he looked down at you, “wife-“

“save it.”

You turned on your heel, you were hurt, but you recognized the feeling that welled up in your chest. It was bright, hot, and caught fire quickly. You were angry.

Capitano followed after you as you went up the stairs, but you didn’t acknowledge him as you went into your room.

You were angry, yes, but now wasn’t the time to be acting immaturely-

That woman flashed through your mind, your previous thoughts turned to ash as you went to your dresser and took out some of your clothes, “what are you doing.”

“Moving to a different room. I know you said not to expect anything, but I certainly wasn’t expecting that. So, until I’m actually considered your wife to other people then you can just bring that woman in here to sleep with you.”

Just as you had gathered enough clothes, Capitano blocked your path from the door which was when you realized he had already closed it. But that wasn’t going to stop you from leaving.

“Move.”

“Will you let me explain?”

“Explain what exactly? It was pretty obvious what was happening.”

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“You didn’t even say anything when she called me a- a-,” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word.

“I am sorry. She is a close friend to the Tsaritsa. To sully her honor is to insult the Tsaritsa.”

“What about me?”

It was a foolish question, one you didn’t want to hear the answer to. In fact, you were sure you already knew what he was going to say. You weren’t as important as the Tsaritsa. You were just some girl from the House of the Hearth who was lucky enough to become a harbinger’s bride.

So you closed your eyes, you didn’t want to face the truth. Didn’t want to hear it just yet.

“I am sorry, y/n.”

Huh?”

You felt him engulf you in a tight hug, his arms wrapped around you like a vice. The warmth that radiated off of him was vast as he held you close.

“I will right the wrong that I have done do to you.”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, “what do you mean? Are you going to bring that woman back here or something?”

One of Capitano’s arms left your waist as he raised his hand to take a hold of your jaw so that your eyes remained on the dark void that was his mask.

“I will bring you her head.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to do that!”

Your words were panicked when Capitano told you he would bring you that woman’s head. Honestly, you never even heard anyone say something like that before.

“I have wronged you and have not spoken out to her when she was slandering you.”

“An apology will be enough,” you managed.

You took a step back as you had long dropped the clothes you had gathered from your dresser. The backs of your knees hit lightly against the bed causing you to fall back into the mattress.

“An apology?”

“Y- yes, I- I know I am not as important as the Tsaritsa or that woman. I know that. And I know that I hsouldn’t expect anything either, b- but an apology, even if it’s a lie, is all I need.”

Before you could sit up on the bed, he had pushed you back down and knelt in front of you, you managed to lift your head just a little as you looked at him.

“My apology to you won’t be a lie.”

Your lips trembled as you felt him start to lift the hem of your nightgown.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“Apologizing to my wife.”

He said it so simply as he pushed your nightgown all the way up to reveal your panties. You could feel your face grow hot and start to burn as as he gripped your thighs. He never stared so intently there before. It made your nerves itch all over. Letting go of one of your thighs, he reached for his mask and easily undid the constraints in order to take it off and set it on the ground beside him.

“Capitano-“

He glanced up at you and you swore you saw a flicker of a smirk against his lips as reached for your underwear, his fingers tugged the crotch part to the side a bit so he could see your folds. You weren’t wet, but that could be changed.

“Tell me stop.”

The words surprised you for a moment but you shook your head no, your voice was shaky as you gave your reply, “if you’re going to apologize, then do it.”

Now you were certain he was smirking at you as he leaned into you. His lips ghosting over your sensitive little clit before pressing a soft kiss to it, the sudden touch caused you to jolt a bit, but you didn’t move an inch thanks to the hold he had on you. Keeping you still was easy for him. And you didn’t have time to question what else he was going to do as you felt a longue drag of his tongue against your folds. The sensation wasn’t anything you felt before as he lapped at you. The texture was different than your fingers as you felt your hips start to rut against his mouth to get a better feel.

The pleasure you felt was erupting along your cunt like a fire cracker, you wanted to feel more, and more is what he gave you as you felt his tongue prod against your clenching hole.

“Not- not there! I- I never had anything up there-“

Your voice was cut off with a moan as you felt his tongue delve deep. Your walls clamped down on his wet muscle as his nose bumped against your clit, and as soon as you were getting used to his tongue he would bring his mouth away and replace his tongue with one of his gloved fingers. The sharp talon worried you for a moment, but the texture of his glove rubbed against your walls in just the right away that you started to gently rut against his palm.

You didn’t realize he was moving until you saw him above you. His finger still working you open as he bent down to capture your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on his tongue as pried your lips open and mapped the expanse of your mouth.

You squealed loudly into his mouth when you felt a second finger meet the first in working against your tight walls. And Capitano, using his other arm to keep himself from crushing you by leaning his forearm next to your head, enjoyed all the little sounds you made as he worked you up.

“Are you going to cum on my fingers?”

His question weighed heavily as his lips moved against your own. Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers his words.

“Or do you need a third?”

You felt something snap in your lower belly, a heat that just washed over you completely when he carved a third finger in your tight pussy. Your walls clamped around his deft digits like a vice as you felt something wash over your and leak around his fingers and onto your inner thighs.

“And here I thought you said you couldn’t cum, seems you were wrong.”

You breathed heavily when he pulled his fingers from your dripping cunt, the sound making you wince slightly as it sounded messy and wet at the same time.

“That woman will never slander you again, and the next to speak ill of you in my presence will lose their tongue.”

In your dazed and drowsy mind, you wondered if what he was saying was true.

@littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna @sarah22447 @naviabestgiirl @nevermoresworld @depressedbearblogs @ppancakesforu @0vendettaself @lilyalone @mochiivqi @pbjts @chewwyaaa @c4xcocoa @ren-ren23 @tazuduck @atrebiusr @simpingbigtime @aryuunachigiri @judithregulus @crowleysthings @yns-sister @satori-runa @meowmeow999999 @beeskn3es @tamikahoshiko @shoyosdoll @ngadasblog @sugacor3 @xiana21 @melancholyae @jjkysnk @s1mppp @that1weirdshipper @himikoquack @sugaryesplease12 @gallantys @wiltedpoison @vamqyx @butratherbutrather @squishameow @reivelmin @eirly-morning-tea @vortexbloom