#mydei x reader modern au

[devdozes]

♣ Whatever happened to the Hayloft? (pt.1)

wohooo modern au! anyways uh reader is part of kremnoan national agency and epos is the enemy EDIT: PART TWO IS POSTED!!

The world always had a way of discarding those who had completed their given role, and You learned that lesson the hard way.

You weren’t born in Kremnos, but you had carved a space for yourself in its investigation unit. It wasn’t out of loyalty or duty but because Eurypon had given you something—an offer, that too an undeniable one. You hunted the rot lurking in the shadows, the kind of filth that thrived in places where the law looked away. Because the offer was a mutual win, To absolutely destroy Epos.

Your last mission should have been a victory. You eliminated the threat, wiped out the infection before it could spread further. You expected gratitude, recognition—at the very least, acknowledgment that you had done the right thing.

Instead, you were met with silence. Then, whispers. Then, a sudden decision was handed down as if it were carved in stone: your removal from the unit, the same unit to which Eurypon himself added you in. And then, you were removed by your superiors, and that same decision was approved by that bastard Eurypos himself.

They told you it was protocol, that your methods were reckless, that you had overstepped. But you weren’t stupid. The target you eliminated had been a benefactor, slipping money into the right hands to stay untouchable. The same hands that had signed off on your expulsion.

Disgrace. That’s what they called it. An exile disguised as procedure. You weren’t arrested, weren’t silenced permanently—just thrown out like something inconvenient.

Your badge was taken. Your access revoked. The work you dedicated yourself to, gone in an instant.

No goodbyes. No allies. Just you, standing at the threshold of a city that no longer wanted you.

The mission played over and over in your mind. "Observe the enemy's intentions and eliminate them." That had been your directive. You did exactly that.

You spent weeks following him, watching him slip through the cracks of Kremnos’ justice system, paying his way out of every accusation, every crime. You watched him destroy lives, snuffing out the weak like they were nothing more than pawns in his personal game. And yet, no one ever stopped him. No one ever tried. He wasn’t just another criminal—he was protected. A necessary evil, they called him. Essential to the city’s survival.

You knew better.

The night of the mission still clung to you, vivid in every detail. The air had been thick with rain, your coat heavy with moisture as you pressed into the shadows of the alley. The target had been cornered, his options dwindling with every step you took forward.

"You don’t want to do this," he had said, voice shaking but still laced with arrogance. "You think you’re doing something noble? I keep the wheels turning. Without me, this city crumbles."

You hesitated—not out of doubt, but out of anger. Did he truly believe that? That he was untouchable, that he could buy his way out even now? That the rules didn’t apply to him?

Your grip on your weapon had been steady, your mind clear. "Then let it crumble."

A single shot. A clean execution.

The silence that followed had been deafening. The city continued on, indifferent. No sirens, no rush of justice arriving too late. Just the sound of rain washing away the blood.

You had fulfilled your mission. You had done what you were told.

And yet, they cast you aside like you had betrayed them.

Confusion twisted in your gut, warring with the certainty that you had done the right thing. Hadn’t you? Or had you simply played the role of executioner while the real enemies remained seated in their offices, drinking their fine liquor, counting their bloodstained money?

As the weight of their betrayal settled in, there was no regret.

But the anger remained, burning beneath your skin.

You had done the right thing.

Even if no one else would admit it. They were all money-hungry cowards.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!". You threw a pillow at the screen with a frustrated groan. The TV show had been a mindless distraction, something to drown out the thoughts clawing at the back of your mind, but now it was just fueling your frustration. The female lead—who had spent the entire season developing chemistry with the actually interesting, funny, and devastatingly handsome second lead—had just thrown it all away for the blandest, most insufferably boring male lead imaginable.

"Oh, sure! Pick the emotionally constipated guy with all the personality of an unseasoned mashed potato! That makes so much sense!" You snatched the remote, furiously hitting the rewind button just to glare at the scene again. "This man wrote you poetry, He made you laugh! Meanwhile, your so-called true love hasn’t smiled once in twelve episodes and the ONLY thing he did was to accept you and give you flowers, which is the bare fucking MINIMUM!"

You slumped back against your pillows, glaring at the ceiling. Maybe it was the betrayal, the unfairness of it all—both in the show and in your own life—that made your blood boil. The second lead had done everything right. He had been there, had supported her, had actually put in the effort. Your fingers curled into the blanket, irritation and something heavier twisting in your gut. The familiar weight of injustice, of being discarded despite doing exactly what was asked of you.

"Ridiculous," you muttered, reaching for the half-empty bag of chips beside you and stuffing a handful into your mouth. "I swear, if they make him attend her wedding in the finale, I’m going to go batshit insane."

And then the finale aired.

The second lead sat in the audience, watching with a wistful smile as the female lead exchanged vows with the brick wall of a main character.

You stared at the screen, jaw tightening. The remote was in your hand, the power button just within reach.

Click.

The TV screen went black.

Without hesitation, you tossed the remote onto the couch, grabbed your bike keys, and swung on your jacket. Enough of this nonsense. You needed something to cool your frustration before you did something drastic—like throwing your TV out the window.

"I am not dealing with this bullshit anymore, isn't tv supposed to calm you down? why is increasing my already high blood pressure"

You quickly stomp out the door, put on your shoes, and run down the stairs quickly, and jump on your bike. from rage or excitement idk

The ice cream shop was nearly empty when you arrived, save for the cashier—a familiar silver-haired young man with a bright grin that immediately screamed trouble. Caelus.

"Well, well, well! If it isn’t my favorite brooding customer!" Caelus leaned dramatically over the counter, resting his chin on his hands. "What’ll it be tonight? Let me guess—something bitter, to match the look on your face?" that zesty bitch

Before you could retort, the door swung open violently, and a blur of motion tackled you from behind. "[Name]!" Stelle practically jumped on you, clinging to your shoulders like an overgrown koala. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she stuck her tongue out at Caelus. "Beat you to them first!"

Caelus gasped in mock horror. "Betrayal! I was just about to offer them a special ‘overdramatic protagonist’ discount!"

You groaned, trying to pry Stelle off. "I just wanted ice cream, not sibling chaos."

"Too late!" Stelle grinned. "We come as a package deal!" Caelus scoffed, dramatically flipping an imaginary cape over his shoulder. "Excuse you, I am the main event. You’re just the annoying sidekick."

"Excuse you," Stelle shot back, finally releasing you only to jab a finger into Caelus’s chest. "I am the superior sibling here. I was born first."

"You both are twins." You say with the most tired expression on your face while rubbing your temples.

"And yet I’m still more mature," Caelus countered clearly ignoring your words, flashing a smug grin.

"You literally tried to eat a rock yesterday!"

"It looked edible!"

"It was glowing blue!"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as they continued bickering like children fighting over the last cookie. "Can I please just order my ice cream before you two kill each other?"

Caelus instantly straightened, clearing his throat and putting on his best ‘professional’ expression—though the effect was ruined by Stelle making faces behind his back.

"Of course! What can I get you, dear customer?" He batted his long-ass eyelashes exaggeratedly, voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Before you could respond, Stelle leaned in. "They’ll have the saddest, most depressing flavor you’ve got. Something that really screams ‘I got kicked out of a corrupt government unit and now I’m having an existential crisis over fictional characters.’"

Caelus nodded solemnly, stroking his chin. "Ah, yes. That’s a classic order. I recommend the ‘Betrayal Blackberry’ or the ‘Melancholy Mint.’"

"Or," Stelle added, grinning, "we could go for full self-pity mode and get the ‘Cold and Alone Cookie Dough.’"

You glared at both of them. "You two are the absolute worst."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Caelus said cheerfully. "So, which depressing flavor will it be?"

"...Cold and Alone Cookie Dough."

They high-fived.

"You guys suck," you muttered, grabbing your ice cream and biting the waffle cone and ice cream with unnecessary force.

"Oh, don’t be like that," Stelle cooed, flopping into the chair across from you and stealing a bite of your ice cream before you could stop her.

Caelus leaned on the counter, watching with the grin of someone who lived purely to be a menace. "So, tell us—was it a TV show or real life that caused this spiral into frozen dairy despair?"

You debated throwing your ice cream at his face.

As you stepped out of the shop, the cool night air wrapped around you, the taste of cookie dough and vanilla lingering on your tongue. The ridiculous bickering between Stelle and Caelus still echoed behind you, but for once, instead of irritation, it left a small smile on your face.

"Try not to get arrested!" Caelus called after you with a cheeky wave.

"And don’t die!" Stelle added, throwing in a thumbs-up.

"You guys act like I can’t handle myself," you scoffed, waving lazily over your shoulder as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

The moment lasted exactly three seconds before someone slammed into you.

Your grip on the ice cream loosened, the cone slipping from your fingers in slow motion, the pale brown-dotted biege scoop tumbling unceremoniously onto the pavement.

You barely registered the loss of your dessert because the person who bumped into you—a hooded stranger—was already darting away, their head ducked low. A second later, shouts erupted from down the street.

"Hey! Stop that guy!"

"He stole my bag!"

"Someone grab him!"

You blinked, staring after the retreating figure.

Then, slowly, your gaze dropped to the fallen ice cream, the way it lay pitifully on the ground, melting into a sad puddle.

Your eye twitched.

Alright. The theft? Definitely a problem.

But ruining your ice cream? That was just personal.

"HEY, YOU SON OF A—" You took off in a sprint, instincts kicking in before you even thought about it.

The stranger whipped his head around in alarm, realizing that not only was he being chased—but that his pursuer was very, very angry.

"Oh, you better start running!" you yelled, pushing forward with even more speed.

"WAIT—WHAT—WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME?!" the thief shouted over his shoulder, dodging past pedestrians.

"YOU RUINED MY ICE CREAM, YOU COWARD!"

That seemed to genuinely throw him off. He stumbled slightly before regaining his pace, muttering something under his breath about lunatics.

Behind you, Stelle and Caelus had stepped outside just in time to witness the scene.

Caelus let out a low whistle. "Aaaand there she goes."

Stelle crossed her arms, grinning. "Do we help?"

Caelus hummed, pretending to think. "...Nah. This seems personal."

You took a sharp turn into the alleyway, cutting off the thief’s path before he could escape into the maze of side streets. He skidded to a stop, looking around frantically like a trapped rat.

"Alright, asshole," you panted, rolling your shoulders as you stepped forward. "You made me drop my ice cream. Now I have to kick your ass on principle."

The thief let out a high-pitched laugh, one that sounded more nervous than anything. "L-Let’s not be hasty now!"

You blinked.

That voice.

That infuriatingly familiar, weaselly voice.

Your eyes narrowed as the thief slowly turned around, hands raised in mock surrender.

Purple hair. Cocky grin. Shady coat.

"Sampo?" you deadpanned.

"Ahahaha... surprise?" Sampo Koski grinned, but the sweat dripping down his forehead told you everything.

You stared at him. Then at the stolen bag slung over his shoulder. Then back at him.

"...You stole someone’s bag?"

"Hey, hey, hey, let’s not use such harsh words!" Sampo waved his hands, stepping back. "I prefer ‘borrowing without permission’—"

Your glare intensified.

He coughed. "Temporarily relocating belongings—"

You cracked your knuckles.

"—IT’S A MISUNDERSTANDING, I SWEAR!"

Before he could bolt again, you lunged, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him close. "You owe me ice cream, you rat bastard."

Sampo held up his hands in surrender. "H-How about I get you two? Three! Three ice creams! My treat!"

"You are so lucky I don’t punch you right now," you growled, releasing him with a shove. "Now return the damn bag before I make you eat pavement."

Sampo chuckled nervously. "Right, right—of course! No problem! Consider it already done!"

Just as he said that, the original owner of the bag—an angry looking woman—came sprinting up, flanked by two security officers.

"There he is!" she shouted, pointing directly at Sampo.

He stiffened. "Ah. Well. This is awkward."

You smirked. "Oh no, please go on. I’d love to see how you talk your way out of this one."

Sampo shot you a pleading look before sighing dramatically. "Alright, alright, no need for handcuffs! It’s all a big miscommunication, I assure you!"

As the officers descended on him, you simply stood back, arms crossed, enjoying every second of his downfall.

. . . .

As the security officers reached for Sampo, he shot you one last desperate look—the kind that screamed "Help me, oh great and merciful person whom I may have slightly inconvenienced!"

You rolled your eyes.

"Hey," you called out to the officers, stepping forward. "This dumbass already realized he messed up. No need to rough him up."

The security guards hesitated. The woman, now clearly an elderly lady with sharp eyes, frowned at you.

"Are you vouching for him?" one of the guards asked, skeptical.

"Pfft— No." You snatched the bag from Sampo’s hands before he could protest and turned to the woman. "Here. Safe and sound."

The old lady blinked, surprised. Then, with a warm smile, she took the bag. "Oh, bless your heart, dear!"

Meanwhile, the guards turned their attention to Sampo again.

"Hey, would you look at the time!" Sampo chirped, already inching away. "I must be going—"

You stuck your foot out.

Sampo tripped but recovered quickly, casting you a betrayed look.

You sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright, he’s harmless. Just let him go."

The officers exchanged glances but ultimately relented, grumbling as they backed off. The elderly woman gave you another grateful nod before walking off, leaving you alone with the notorious conman.

Sampo, ever the opportunist, dusted himself off with a wide grin. "Wow! You actually helped me! Didn’t know you cared so much—"

Your fist cracked against his head lightly—a warning tap, really.

"Ow!"

"You owe me ice cream, Koski." You grabbed his collar before he could escape. "And a damn good explanation."

Sampo chuckled nervously. "Ehehe… w-well, you see—"

You dragged him back toward the ice cream shop.

"Talk. Now."

As the bell chimed upon your return, Caelus and Stelle looked up from behind the counter—only to immediately burst into laughter.

Caelus nearly collapsed onto the register, wheezing. "Oh my god."

Stelle clutched her stomach, barely able to breathe. "What— what is that look on your face—?"

Because, standing at the entrance of the shop, you wore the most dangerously peaceful smile imaginable. A smile that promised violence.

And in your grasp, Sampo Koski dangled half-dragged by the collar of his coat, groaning dramatically. "Mercy! Mercy, I say!"

Caelus wiped a tear from his eye. "Did you adopt a stray, [Name]? Or—wait—did the stray adopt you?!"

"Shut up," you said sweetly, before unceremoniously dumping Sampo onto the floor.

"Oof—!" He sprawled out like a ragdoll. "Rude."

You turned to Caelus, still smiling. "Another one of my usual. On him." You jabbed a thumb at Sampo, who gave a weak thumbs-up from the floor.

Stelle snickered. "You got a sugar daddy now?"

"More like a debt-ridden weasel who owes me for ruining my first ice cream." You crossed your arms. "And I will be collecting."

Sampo scrambled up, brushing himself off. "Now, now! Let’s not be hasty—"

Caelus grinned, already scooping your ice cream. "Oh, no. We love hasty."

Stelle smirked. "So, Koski—" She leaned over the counter. "—care to explain what the fuck just happened?"

Sampo let out a nervous chuckle, straightening his coat as he glanced between you, Stelle, and Caelus—all three of you wearing eerily expectant expressions.

"Now, now," he started, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Surely there’s no need for such hostility! Let’s all take a deep breath, relax, and—"

You grabbed a chair and turned it around, sitting on it backward like you were about to interrogate him. "Talk."

Caelus, ever the opportunist, slid a cup of water across the counter like he was in some kind of detective movie. Stelle leaned in closer, grinning.

"Spill."

Sampo sighed dramatically. "Ahh, what a cruel world! A man can’t even do a little bit of freelance item relocation without being hunted down like a criminal—"

"Because you are one?" you deadpanned.

"Details!" He waved you off. "See, my dear friends, it’s all about perspective! To you, I might look like some shady—albeit handsome—fellow running through the streets, but to others, I am simply a humble entrepreneur!"

Caelus snorted. "Humble, my ass."

You tapped your fingers against the chair. "So what, you just happened to rob an old lady in front of a crowd?"

"*Whoa!*Whoa! Let’s not throw around words like ‘rob,’" Sampo said, looking genuinely offended. "She was the one who had something very valuable, and I simply liberated it for a bit! Then I was going to return it—eventually!"

"Eventually my ass," you muttered.

Stelle grinned. "So, what was in the bag, huh? Stacks of cash? A top-secret government file? The legendary lost treasure of—"

Sampo groaned, rubbing his face. "Ugh, it was a bunch of handmade scarves!"

There was silence.

Then Caelus burst out laughing again. Stelle doubled over, wheezing.

You blinked. "Wait, what?"

Sampo slumped over the table. "I thought it was something else!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "You—stole scarves? From an old lady? And got chased down the street for it?"

Sampo threw his arms in the air. "I panicked!"

Caelus wiped a tear from his eye, grinning. "Man, you really are the worst at this."

"I’m usually so good at this!" Sampo groaned, before giving you the most pitiful look possible. "You believe me, don’t you?"

You took your freshly made ice cream from Caelus, making a show of enjoying the first bite. Then, without breaking eye contact, you reached out and grabbed Sampo’s wallet right from his coat.

"Hey—!"

You flipped it open, pulled out enough to cover the ice cream, and slammed the cash onto the counter. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Caelus let out an exaggerated "oohhh!" while Stelle outright clapped.

Sampo sighed, defeated. "You wound me, [Name]. Truly."

You smirked. "Next time, watch where you’re running. Or maybe don’t steal from old ladies."

Sampo pouted. "Lesson learned… probably." that fucking whore

With the sweet taste of victory (and ice cream) on your tongue, you leaned back in your chair, savoring every bite while Sampo sulked dramatically across from you. Stelle was still giggling every now and then, and Caelus had taken it upon himself to reenact Sampo’s very ungraceful escape attempt using napkins and straws.

You took another slow, deliberate spoonful, making a show of enjoying it just to rub salt in Sampo’s wounded pride.

"Mmm. So worth the trouble."

Sampo groaned, slumping over the table. "This is cruel and unusual punishment. Watching someone else enjoy what should’ve been mine."

"You paid for this," you reminded him.

"And yet, somehow, I feel robbed," he sighed.

Stelle grinned. "Now you know how that old lady felt."

Sampo shot her a betrayed look, but before he could get another word in, you set your spoon down, stretching with a satisfied sigh. "Alright, I’m heading home before something else drags me into its nonsense."

"Awww," Stelle whined. "You sure? You could stick around and watch Caelus keep clowning on Sampo."

Caelus, who had been dramatically dropping a napkin “thief” off a table ledge, grinned. "I’ve got at least ten more skits in me."

Sampo groaned louder. "You’re all terrible people."

You laughed, standing up. "I’m sure you’ll survive, Sampo. Or not. Either way, not my problem."

With a final wave to the chaotic duo, you exited the shop, stepping into the cool night air. Your bike was parked nearby, and you swung a leg over it with ease, the quiet hum of the streets a welcome change from all the chaos.

For the first time in a while, a genuine smile settled on your face.

As you settled onto your bike, ready to head home, a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention.

A hooded figure stood near the alley across the street, leaning casually against the wall as if waiting for something—or someone. The dim glow of a nearby streetlamp barely illuminated his features, but for a split second, you caught a glimpse of something familiar.

Ash-blonde hair with red tips.

Your grip on the handlebars tightened slightly. A strange sense of recognition stirred in your chest, but you pushed it down. You were tired—you’d had enough surprises for one night.

With a shake of your head, you dismissed the thought. Probably just some random guy. Not your business.

You revved your bike, the engine’s low hum filling the silence. The hooded figure didn’t move, didn’t react.

And so, you turned your attention back to the road and rode off into the night, leaving the stranger—and whatever trouble he might bring behind because you had enough for one fucking night

. . . . .

The ride home was uneventful, the cool night air doing little to wash away the lingering irritation from earlier. You parked your bike, stretched out your sore limbs, and stepped inside. The dim glow of your apartment welcomed you, quiet and still—just the way you liked it.

You tossed your jacket onto the couch, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and were about to collapse onto your bed when your phone buzzed.

Unknown Caller.

You stared at the screen, debating whether to pick up. Something about it felt… off.

Against your better judgment, you answered.

A familiar voice crackled through the speaker. "…[Name]?"

You froze.

Aglaea.

It had been months since you last heard her voice. Since she let you walk away without a word. Since she didn’t defend you when you needed her most.

Your grip on the phone tightened. "What do you want?"

There was a pause. A hesitation. Then—

"Eurypon is dead."

The words settled over you like a thick fog. Cold. Heavy.

You blinked once. Then twice.

Dead?

Eurypon—the same bastard who removed you from the unit, who framed you as reckless, who ensured you’d never work in the investigation unit again—was dead?

You weren’t sure how to feel. Shocked? Maybe. But there was no grief. No sadness. Just an empty sort of understanding.

People like Eurypon made enemies. It was only a matter of time.

You exhaled, voice steady, emotionless. "I'm not in the investigation unit anymore, Aglaea. Don’t contact me."

A beat of silence. Then, Aglaea’s voice softened. "I know," she murmured. "I just thought… you should hear it from me. Not the news. Not anyone else."

You didn’t respond.

Another pause. Then, quieter—almost hesitant—she added, "Save my number, [Name]. Even if you don’t want to talk to me. Just… save it."

You sighed, fingers hovering over the screen.

Then, without another word, you declined the call.

But you did save her number.

. . . .

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch before grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV. After the chaotic mess of the night, all you wanted was some mindless background noise.

Flipping through the channels, you paused at the news. Maybe they had an update on something actually interesting.

"Breaking News: Former Investigation Unit Director, Eurypon, Found Dead."

Your brows raised slightly. So it was real.

The reporter droned on about the details—Eurypon’s body found in a private residence, a single bullet wound to the head, no signs of forced entry. But what really caught your attention was the next segment.

A figure appeared on the screen, standing at a podium in a sharply pressed uniform, flanked by two other high-ranking officials. His face was one you recognized instantly.

Ash-blonde hair with red tips, slightly messy yet unmistakable. Cold golden eyes staring through the camera with that same unyielding intensity.

Mydei.

Your former teammate.

No. More than that.

Eurypon’s son.

Your lips curled into something between amusement and curiosity. So he was the one stepping into his father’s shoes now?

Then, before you could process anything further—

BZZZT.

Your phone vibrated against your stomach. Another unknown number.

You groaned, throwing a pillow across the room in frustration. "Are you kidding me?"

Swiping the call open, you pressed the phone to your ear. "Whoever this is, I swear—"

"[Name]."

You blinked.

That voice. Low. Steady. Unshaken.

You glanced at the TV again, and there he was—Mydei, standing there like he owned the damn world.

Slowly, you sat up, adjusting your grip on the phone. "You killed Eurypon, didn’t you?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then, calmly, Mydei responded, "Yes."

No hesitation. No guilt. No unnecessary justifications. Just a simple, undeniable confirmation.

You exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "Well. Can’t say I’m surprised."

Eurypon was a bastard. A snake who sold out his own people for power. You weren’t about to shed any tears over him.

"That’s not why I’m calling." Mydei’s voice was clipped, professional. "We need you back in the investigation unit. There’s a mission that requires your expertise."

Your amusement faded.

And then you laughed.

Loud. Sharp. Unbelieving.

"You think I’d ever go back to that corrupt mess?" you asked, a grin stretching across your face. "You’re funny, Mydei. I don’t do favors for free, and I especially don’t work with the people who threw me out like trash."

There was silence on the other end.

Then, a sigh.

"I expected you to say that," Mydei admitted, his voice still composed. "But it was worth a try."

"You seriously thought I’d agree?"

"I thought you might consider it."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Hard pass."

Another pause. Then, softer than before—barely noticeable—he said, "…I see."

You almost laughed again. Even now, he was as restrained as ever.

"Tell you what," you said, stretching lazily against the couch. "How about next time you call, you don’t ask me to clean up the investigation unit’s mess? Try something fun for once."

A quiet breath from the other end, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

Then, his voice returned to that same controlled, unreadable tone.

"Just wait till 25th April."

And with that, the call ended.

You exhaled, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you.

So Mydei was pulling the strings now.

And he had no qualms about getting blood on his hands.

You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

April 25th

Your phone buzzed.

You barely spared it a glance, still sprawled out on your couch, half-asleep from last night’s late ride. The screen flashed with an unknown number again.

A groggy sigh left your lips as you grabbed it. "This better not be another waste of my time."

"[Name]."

You sat up instantly.

That voice—steady, composed, unmistakably Mydei.

"You're calling me again?" you said, rubbing your eyes. "What, another mission offer? I already—"

"Check the news."

You blinked.

Something in his tone made you pause. He sounded… amused? Smug, even.

Your brows furrowed as you reached for the remote. The news channel flickered to life on your TV, and within seconds, you were wide awake.

"Investigation Unit Officials Exposed in Widespread Corruption Scandal—Mass Firings Underway."

Your breath hitched.

The screen displayed a list of names, each one making your pulse quicken.

People you used to work with. The same bastards who threw you under the bus. Who framed you, lied, and made sure you'd never step foot in the unit again.

Now? They were gone.

Some were getting arrested. Others were being dragged out of their offices, their faces pale as reporters bombarded them with questions. Their crimes—bribery, evidence tampering, illegal dealings—were being laid out in broad daylight for everyone to see.

You sat there, stunned.

And then, from the phone pressed against your ear—

A quiet chuckle.

"So?" Mydei drawled, clearly enjoying this moment. "What do you think?"

You let out a slow breath, still processing everything.

"You… really went and did it, huh?"

"You sound surprised."

"That’s because I am." You shook your head, watching as another corrupt official was led out in handcuffs. "I knew you were stepping in, but I didn’t think you’d actually clean house."

A hum from the other end of the line. "I said I would handle it."

Your lips twitched. "Didn’t think you’d be this thorough."

There was a pause, then, with that same unwavering authority, Mydei spoke again.

"Come to the Investigation Unit tomorrow at 7 AM. ASAP."

You stiffened. "Wait—what?"

"You’ll be leading the next mission," he continued, completely ignoring your reaction. "Highest-ranking officer. No one above you. No one to control you. You do things your way this time."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"You’re serious?"

"Have I ever wasted my time with jokes?"

He had a point.

Before you could respond, the line cut off.

You lowered the phone slowly, still staring at the news, but your focus had already shifted.

Tomorrow at 7 AM.

You were back in the unit.

And this time, you were the one in charge.

A quiet chuckle slipped past your lips.

It felt good.

HI GUYS ITS ANTOHER SERIESS and ts tension wohoo!! @leonsnewadventures

PART 2!!

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

⋆࿐໋ STRUNG TIGHT !

　ུᩧ　tws : rockstar mydei x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, creampie, bondage, dirty talk & teasing, sub & dom dynamics, clit play, dumbification, multiple of rounds, dirty talk & teasing, mild degradation, and slight restraint play. (Modern au)

　ུᩧ　synopsis : After a killer performance, Mydei’s still riding the high, strumming out lazy tunes in the back room like he’s got all the time in the world. You call him out—on the way he plays, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. He just smirks, all cocky and unbothered, until you push him too far. One second, you’re teasing him, the next, you’re pinned to the couch, wrists bound with his guitar strap, legs spread as he plays you like his favorite song—slow, deep, and all fucking night.

The sound of a guitar hummed through the empty dressing room, lazy and sweet, like a song played in bed at sunrise. Mydei sat on the couch, long legs spread, fingers plucking at the strings without much thought. His golden eyes flicked up when you walked in, but he didn’t say anything—just kept playing, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“That was some performance,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t know you could play like that.”

He scoffed. “You say that every time.”

“And every time, you act like you don’t eat up the attention.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head, but his fingers never stopped moving. The melody was slower now, more careful—something soft, something intimate. You recognized it, a song you’d caught him playing before, always when he thought no one was listening.

“Another love song?” you teased, stepping closer.

His eyes darkened. “You tell me.”

You swore he did this on purpose—the way he played, the way he looked at you under his lashes, the way his voice dripped low when he spoke. You could feel the bass of the guitar vibrating in your chest, or maybe that was just your pulse, quick and eager.

“You play like you’re trying to get someone in bed,” you mused, standing between his legs.

He leaned back, fingers slowing as he studied you. “And?”

And. Fuck. You weren’t supposed to get caught up in him like this, but it was hard not to when he looked at you like that—half-lidded, lazy, waiting. You bit your lip, watching his hands.

“You play with your fingers more than a pick,” you murmured.

Mydei raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

You hummed, dragging your nails lightly down his arm. “I like that.”

The guitar was gone before you could blink, placed somewhere out of the way, and then his hands were on you—calloused, warm, pulling you onto his lap. His mouth found your throat, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss that made you shiver.

“Say it again,” he muttered against your skin.

“You’re good with your fingers,” you breathed, and his hands tightened around your waist.

His lips curled into a smirk as he slid his hand beneath your shirt, fingers tracing your ribs before palming your tits, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The roughness of his skin against the sensitive bud sent a shiver straight down to your clit.

He chuckled when he felt you squirm. “Sensitive.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You kissed him, hard, swallowing the smugness right out of his mouth. He groaned, hands gripping your hips, rocking you against him. You could feel him, hot and thick beneath his jeans, and your head spun at the thought of him inside you.

One of his hands left your waist, reaching for his guitar strap that had been tossed onto the couch. Before you could question him, he had your wrists bound together, your arms pinned above your head as he laid you back against the couch.

“What—”

His teeth scraped over your collarbone. “You like my fingers, right?”

You moaned when two of them slid down, past the waistband of your shorts, teasing at your pussy. He groaned at how wet you were, spreading you open with ease.

“I bet,” he murmured, dragging his fingers over your clit in slow, teasing circles, “I could make you sing sweeter than any song I’ve ever played.”

His fingers slipped inside you, stretching you just right, curling against that perfect spot. The guitar strap dug into your wrists as you pulled against it, hips bucking against his touch. He watched you, golden eyes dark with hunger, his cock pressing against his jeans.

“You sound so pretty,” he murmured, pumping his fingers in and out. “Bet my cock would feel even better, huh?”

You whimpered, nodding frantically, but he tsked. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you gasped. “Fuck me.”

He grinned, undoing his belt with one hand, still lazily stroking your clit with the other. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Mydei took his time, just because he could. His fingers stayed buried inside you, lazily curling with each thrust, dragging slick noises out of your pussy like he was playing some slow, teasing melody. His other hand gripped the strap around your wrists, keeping you pinned against the couch as he leaned down, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your tits.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured against your skin, thumb circling your clit in time with the lazy strumming of his fingers inside you. “Maybe I should keep playing you like this all night.”

You whined, tugging against the strap, hips rolling up against his hand. He chuckled, cock heavy against your thigh as he let his teeth graze your nipple. The rough flick of his tongue sent another wave of heat through you, and you clenched around his fingers, making him groan.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “Gonna feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”

He pulled his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth like he was savoring the taste of you. The sight alone had you clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up again. But Mydei was in no rush. He tugged his belt free, using it to loop around the guitar strap, anchoring your bound wrists to the couch.

“There,” he smirked, watching you struggle. “No touching.”

You glared at him, but any complaint you had died on your tongue when he shoved his jeans down, cock springing free. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him—long, thick, flushed at the tip. He gave himself a slow stroke, watching you with a smirk.

“Bet you wish you could touch me, huh?”

You whined, trying to reach for him, but the restraint kept you in place. Mydei laughed, leaning down to press a soft, teasing kiss to your lips.

“Guess you’ll just have to take it,” he whispered, lining himself up.

And then he was pushing in, stretching you open inch by inch, his cock sinking deep into your pussy with a slow, agonizing drag. Your back arched, a breathless moan spilling from your lips as he filled you up completely.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips pressed flush against yours. “You’re squeezing me so tight.”

He pulled back, almost all the way out, before slamming back in, setting a deep, steady rhythm. The guitar strap creaked as you strained against it, hips bucking to meet his thrusts. Mydei leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear.

“You sound so fucking good,” he panted, dragging his cock along your walls, making sure you felt every inch of him. “Better than any song I’ve ever played.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles that had your thighs shaking. The overstimulation made your head spin, pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Mydei—”

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, voice low and rough. “Sing for me.”

The orgasm crashed into you like a wave, pleasure bursting through your body as you clenched around his cock, moaning his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. Mydei groaned, fucking you through it, his thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy tightened around him.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Gonna come inside you—”

You gasped, nodding frantically, and that was all it took. Mydei slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside, filling you up with warmth. He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, before slowly pulling out, watching his cum drip from your pussy with a satisfied smirk.

He reached down, tracing his fingers through the mess he made. “Gotta admit,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “I think I like playing you better than my guitar.”

Mydei didn’t waste a fucking second. He still had that lazy, cocky smirk on his face, but the way he fucked you? There was nothing lazy about it. Every thrust was deep, slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock stretching you open, but hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs.

“Shit—look at you,” he rasped, watching the way your tits bounced with every snap of his hips. “Already fucked stupid, huh? Thought you had so much to say a minute ago.”

You did. You really did. But your brain was a mess, thoughts drowned out by the thick drag of his cock, the tight pull of the guitar strap keeping your wrists bound above your head. The only thing spilling from your lips now were breathy moans and little whimpers, legs twitching around his waist as he bullied his cock even deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight,” Mydei groaned, rolling his hips just right, brushing against that spot that made your vision blur. “You like this, don’t you?”

You nodded, too dumb and desperate to care how pathetic you looked beneath him. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing fast, sloppy circles that made you whine. The pleasure was too much—his cock stretching you open, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your swollen clit, the heat pooling in your stomach, coiling tighter and tighter until—

“Don’t—don’t stop—”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” he growled, pace getting rougher, sharper, making your whole body shake beneath him. “Not ‘til I break you.”

And fuck, he did. Your back arched, your mouth falling open on a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you, making your pussy clamp down around his cock like you never wanted to let him go. Your body was trembling, tears pricking your eyes from how fucking good it felt, and Mydei groaned, grinding against you as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it,” he murmured, licking a slow stripe up your throat before pressing a kiss to your jaw. “So fucking pretty when you come on my cock.”

You should’ve been embarrassed by how wrecked you sounded, by the way your body twitched and shook, completely at his mercy—but you weren’t. Not when Mydei was looking at you like this, eyes blown, jaw tight, chasing his own release.

“Fuck—gonna come inside you,” he panted, thrusts getting sloppy. “Gonna fill you up real nice—make sure you remember who owns this pretty little pussy.”

Your brain was too melted to do anything but nod, legs tightening around his waist, urging him deeper. He groaned, hips stuttering, and then he was spilling inside you, warmth flooding your insides as he buried himself to the hilt.

For a long moment, he didn’t move, just let himself feel it—your walls fluttering around him, the way your body trembled from the aftershocks. Then, finally, he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum dripping from your pussy, smearing along your thighs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, fingers dipping between your legs, pushing some of his cum back inside. You twitched, overstimulated, and he chuckled.

“So dumb for me now,” he teased, rubbing lazy circles against your clit just to watch you squirm. “Can’t even talk, huh? Bet I fucked all the thoughts outta that cute little head.”

You whimpered, barely able to move, and Mydei just smirked, leaning down to kiss your cheek before finally untying your wrists.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “I’ll play with you again real soon.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[mydeicakie]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🩰. ݁ᛪ༙ 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 ?!!!!!

༉‧₊˚. 𝒫𝒜ℛℐ𝒩𝒢 ： boxer bf!Mydei x gf fem!reader

༉‧₊˚. 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ： It's Valentine's Day, and Mydei's just lost his match- but you're not about to let him stay down. Instead of the usual sympathy, you've got something much hotter in mind. You strip away the disappointment and replace it with something far more irresistible-your body. As his frustration melts away, you take control, giving him a night full of pleasure that's better than any victory. Your pussy's all his, and tonight, he'll know it's the best win he could've ever had. (Modern au)

༉‧₊˚. 𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮 ：smut, vaginal, daddy kink, doggy style, body worship?, ass/pussy eating, mydei is kinda needy, as-well as reader is needy too, fluff, size kink? (he’s big asf), big dick mydei, kissing, hickeys, nipple play, breast play, soft & gentle sex.

༉‧₊˚. ℰ𝒳𝒯ℛ𝒜 ： I know I might’ve made some auto corrects. Forgive me 🤕. Also this is a collab with @blueberrisdove-sideblog & she’s the person who got the original idea of boxer Mydei.

Mydei was pissed after losing his match. You could see the frustration in his eyes, but you weren't about to let it ruin the night. Without saying a word, you undressed, your movements slow and deliberate. As you stood in front of him, the tension shifted. You didn't need to speak-your actions were enough. Tonight wasn't about words or comfort. It was about giving him something he really wanted, something no match could ever compare to you.

A scowl still pinched between his eyebrows, but there was a flicker of interest as he watched you undress with deliberate slowness. The room was charged with a different kind of tension now, no longer just frustration lingering in the shadows.His own movements turned fluid as he rose from the mat, approaching you with a predator's grace. The air grew thick with the anticipation building in both of you, your naked forms nearly touching as his breath ghosted over your skin.Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist, strong hands dipping into the slight curves of your hips.

His forehead came to rest against your shoulder, his muscular body pressed intimately against yours.In this moment, the night's plans were rewritten. Winning the match took second place to simply having you like this – with him, beneath his touch. Mydei leaned back, piercing his intense gaze into yours. "Just want you," he murmured, his low voice roughed by the desire thrumming between you. Then, he captured your lips in a kiss that left no room for words.

The kiss deepened, swallowing your sigh and the quiet laughter underlying it. Mydei's fingers tangled in your hair as he leaned into the sensual tease, his broad chest rubbing deliciously against yours. His tongue traced the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance to the honeyed warmth within.As if on instinct, he lifted you, bending your torso back slightly in his strong arms as he kissed down your jaw to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

His hot breath fanned across your tender pulse even as he spoke softly against your flesh, "Think I still have some moves to share tonight, baby." His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, already primed and yearning for him. Mydei seemed to sense this, a wicked smile teasing at the corners of his lips before he straightened, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you to the bed.A new game of conquest was underway in those warm, inviting sheets—and Mydei was determined to claim victory again tonight.

After laying you down on the plush mattress, his eyes roamed hungrily over your body, taking in the slender lines and lush curves. His hands skimmed down your sides before settling cupping your breasts, thumbs playing over the pebbled nipples. "Still have much to learn here too," he murmured with a smirk, his fingers twisting the sensitive buds, making you gasp.

His other hand slid further, teasing the tender skin beneath your navel before dipping lower to stroke the sensitive folds between your thighs. Moans spilled from your lips as he explored the sweetness there, his knowledge and patience an irresistible combination. Mydei kissed a trail down your body, pausing to lavish attention on your aching skin along the way.

When he reached between your legs again, his fingers delved deeper, stroking the most intimate pulse points with confident skill. Your head thrashed against the mattress, panting cries for more escaping you as he pushed you higher. He lavished sensual torture on your core, keeping your pleasure building to a fever pitch before allowing you a brief respite. During this lull, his lips found your own again in a searing kiss.

“Aughhh Mydei…” You moaned out loud and softly, his fingers curling. Making you cry out loud from pleasure. “D-Daddy…” you moaned softly and bit down your bottom lip.

The needy word slipped from your lips, a primal plea that sparked a thrill through him in spite of his tough exterior. "Daddy...?" Mydei echoed, a husky chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Seems my lil' girl needs something special tonight."He dipped his fingers even deeper, curling them to rub the exact spot that made you see stars. Electric jolts of pleasure radiated from where he touched, heightening the tension coiling low in your belly. "That's it, just let go for me," he encouraged, his hot breath seeping through your skin as he licked and nipped at your neck. "Mydei..." Your voice trembled, barely audible over the deafening symphony of sensations he was creating.

He sensed your nearing peak, his fingers picking up their intense pace."Get there for me, baby. Cum all over my hand like a good girl." With those words, he brought you hurtling into ecstasy, your inner walls clenching wildly around his fingers as euphoria overwhelmed you. Mydei groaned, relishing the sight of your release, before gently sliding free and bringing his glistening fingers to his lips. "Delicious," the boxer murmured, eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity as he licked your essence clean.

The visual act only stoked the embers of his own desire, a familiar ache growing south. With deliberate movements, he lay down beside you, his larger frame encasing yours like a protective shroud. "Now, about that instruction I was overdue..." His voice was a low, tantalizing growl in your ear as he traced the curve of your hips, teasing, before continuing lower, exploring every dip and plane of your vulnerable body.

Each touch was deliberate, a sensual exploration intended to rekindle the inferno within him. "Tell me where you want to feel me first, love," he urged, nuzzling the tender nape of your neck before gently grazing his teeth across the sensitive skin. "I want to make this about you." His words were a promise, a vow to lavish attention and pleasure on you, to indulge in mutual enjoyment until you both succumbed to the insistent calls of your bodies.

“N-No need to do that daddy…” you mumbled softly. He paused his playful exploration, tilting your chin up with a finger to meet your hesitant gaze. Mydei's golden eyes held a depth of adoration and devotion, a quiet intensity that melted the reservations from your expression. "Always need," he corrected softly, brushing his lips across your forehead in a gentle kiss. "I'm here for you, completely.

Your pleasure, your satisfaction, that's all that matters." The tender reassurance spoke volumes of the unwavering dedication he held for you, a steadfast commitment that extended far beyond the act they were engaged in now. It was a profound reminder of the unwavering bond you shared, a love that balanced the harsh realities of his boxing life with its simplest joys - giving and receiving affection uncompromised.With that reassurance, Mydei's attentions turned back to your body, his hands continuing their leisurely path.

He teased the undersides of your breasts, marveling at the weight of them in his palms, before trailing lower to explore the tender expanse of your abdomen. His thumbs found your hipbones, gently rubbing the juncture where soft gave way to hard, urging your hips to press closer, a subtle reminder of the desire burning between you. "I'll be gentle."

“Promise?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Promise," he confirmed solemnly, his intense stare unwavering. He leaned in, sealing his vow with a tender kiss. "You're safe with me. I'll take care of you." After establishing that unwavering commitment, Mydei's movements turned deliberate once more, a warrior's focus honed on seduction.

His larger frame enfolded yours as he guided you into a prone position, the plush mattress cushioning your descent. On his knees beside you, he took a moment to admire the beauty of your submission before him.Reaching across your body, his hands roamed up your arms, the soft hair there catching his attention.

He trailed two fingertips slowly along the inside of your upper arm until they reached your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, he proceeded to retrace his path along your tricep, down to flex and twitch with each movement under his touch. "Like steel in velvet," Mydei whispered, impressed by the resilient, lithe strength underlying your slender form. His other hand echoed the tender caresses, only now venturing along your inner thighs to tease the soft skin there with languid brushes of his fingers.

“W-Why can’t you put it in already?” you asked him, as you wiggled your butt impatiently.

His low chuckle reverberated through the air, a rich, warm sound that made your skin prickle with anticipation. "So eager," he murmured, shaking his head in wry amusement. "Patience, my love. We have all night." A teasing finger trailed up your inner thigh, circling the junction of your thighs before disappearing from view once more. "Besides, I told you, I want to make it special. Take my time to drive you wild, to have you screaming my name when I finally make you mine." His heated words were punctuated by the press of his lips against your earlobe, a fleeting caress that sent a shivering thrill down your spine.

Mydei's other hand still roamed skillfully over your skin, gradually turning his attention to your buttocks. His touch gentled, though no less sensual, as he explored the curves and contours just before he had you presented him."So perfect," he breathed, voice laden with an unmistakable hint of lust. Then, without further delay, he took you, burying himself to the hilt within your heat with a guttural groan of pure bliss."Fuck, you feel amazing," With that, he pulled out nearly to the tip before sliding back in, establishing a relentless rhythm designed to drive you wild.

Each powerful thrust claimed a piece of you, the sensual onslaught building with unyielding intent. The sound of his groans and your own wanton cries filled the room, punctuated by the slapping of skin against skin as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet, welcoming warmth.

Mydei angled his hips to stroke deeper, grinding against that one perfect spot within you that made stars burst behind your eyelids."Come on," he growled against your shoulder, "let it wash over you, give yourself to me completely."He nipped at your earlobe, the rough hairs of his jaw scraping delicately against your skin as he punctuated his words with deep, probing thrusts. "Remember, I'm all for you here."Mydei wrapped his arms around you snugly, pulling your back flush against his chest as he continued his sensual assault. His free hand snaked around to palm your breasts, his thumbs rubbing the distended nipples in sync with his relentless thrusts.

You cried out loud and moaned, your eyes rolling back to your head as you bit down your bottom lip. He felt every shudder, every muffled cry against your bitten lip, and it only fueled his unrelenting drive. Powerful, measured strokes plunged him deep into you, stroking along the tight, gripping walls of your heat with unyielding intent. The room echoed with your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin, a primal symphony that painted the air with your combined passion. "That's it, take it all," Mydei groaned, his low voice vibrating against your ear as he angled his hips to reach the deepest, most sensitive spot within you."So fucking tight, so perfect," he grunted, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples in time ith his plunging thrusts. "Give in to me, completely. Let me feel you come apart on my dick." His demand was voiced with a raw, primal urgency that resonated deep within your core, sparking an almost frenzied response within you.

Mydei cupped your breasts more firmly now, kneading the pliant flesh as he rode you harder, driven by the need to claim this shared bliss, to merge your bodies and souls in a frenzy of pleasure and completion.

Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, forming a lewd expression all over your face.

The wanton display of your expression – open-mouthed, wide-eyed, utterly lost in the throes of passion – sent a surge of primal desire through Mydei. He could hardly tear his gaze from the mesmerizing sight, your face a testament to the all-consuming pleasure he was instigating within you. Leaning closer, he claimed your mouth in a hungry, dominating kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his claim even as his hips continued their relentless pounding. He was determined to coax every last shred of ecstacy from you, to drink in the depths of your surrender, your release at his hand. "That's it, I want to see you unravel," he growled against your lips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your breasts, twisting and tugging at your hardened nipples.

"Come for me, baby, fill me up with your sweet, slick heat." With that fervent command, he dipped his chin to suckle at the sensitive bud of your other breast, swirling his tongue around it as he pounded into you, expertly targeting lip that elusive sweet spot within.

Feeling your walls clench tighter around him, sensing the tsunami of release cresting inside you, Mydei intensified his assault. His hands roamed your body, kneading and teasing every sensitive patch of skin until you were writhing beneath him, mindless with need. He alternated between long, deep strokes and quick, sharp thrusts, each designed to push you closer to that precipice of pure, uninhibited bliss.

The room was filled with the cacophony of your joined moans and the carnal slap of flesh against flesh, an almost tribal chant of primal satisfaction. Mydei's breathing became labored, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive light as he watched you teeter on the edge."Give it to me, now," he commanded, his thrusts becoming choppy and urgent as he pursued his own crescendo. "Fill me, baby, drown me in your heat, your ecstasy. Let me feel you shatter for me." His fingers sank to the roots of your hair, tugging firmly as he plunged into your depths with renewed vigor, his cock throbbing and twitching with impending release.

You hit your climax, As you surrendered to the all-consuming release, your inner walls spasming wildly around him, Mydei felt the world narrow into a singular focus—your exquisite pleasure. He thrust into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as your heat threatened to suck him in. Your cry, a sweet, high-pitched gasp, became the catalyst for his own explosion.A low, primal growl rumbled through his chest as the first pulses of his climax crashed over him, his essence flooding your welcoming depths. Mydei's eyes rolled shut, a bead of sweat trickling from his temple as he rode out the intense waves of ecstasy.

His hands, still tangled in your hair, fisted, releasing their grip. The sensation of his pulsing heat filling you, the sheer, primal essence of being fully claimed, overwhelmed you both. For a moment, there was only the breathless, sated stillness of the aftermath. Then, Mydei's lips brushed your ear, his hot, raspy voice whispering his approval. "Perfection," he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as he slowly withdrew, his softened length glistening with your combined essence.

Mydei couldn't help but chuckle, the low rumble vibrating through his chest as he rolled onto his back beside you, pulling you into the crook of his arm. He lazily trails his fingers up and down your spine, the gentle caress lulling you further into relaxation."So responsive," he notes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You'll have me addicted to this sight in no time, love."

As your breathing evens out and your eyelids grow heavy, Mydei tenderly brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb absently stroking your cheek. He studies your peaceful, contented features, a softness in his eyes that belies the fierce warrior he is when battle calls. "Rest now, my sweet," he whispers, his voice a soothing murmur in the warm, intimate aftermath of their encounter."I'll be right here when you wake, ready for round two, if you are." With that promise, Mydei closes his own eyes, the sound of your gentle snores a comforting accompaniment to his own slowly deepening slumber.

[mikashisus]

── ꒰ MASTERLISTS ! ꒱

𖦹 venti masterlist

a collection of all my venti fics.

── ꒰ SERIES ! ꒱

𖦹 empire of blood

lyney x fem!reader

𖦹 the regula solis epoch

a genshin fic series that takes place before the time of the archon war. still under construction!

── ꒰ SMAUS ! ꒱

𖦹 bad idea right?

alhaitham x fem!reader (modern au)

𖦹 dream catcher

xiao x fem!reader x scaramouche (band au)

𖦹 get him back!

kinich x fem!reader (modern au)

𖦹 good luck, babe!

clorinde x fem!reader (modern au)

𖦹 older

zhongli x fem!reader (actor au, age gap)

── ꒰ ONESHOTS ! ꒱

𖦹 anatomy study

xiao x fem!reader (uni au)

𖦹 betwixt tiresome war

mydei x gn!reader

𖦹 hsr men with as it is songs

dan heng, aventurine, sunday, jing yuan, blade x gn!reader

𖦹 intricately entwined

mydei x gn!reader

𖦹 just as a star dies

capitano x gn!reader (platonic)

𖦹 maybe one day

kinich x gn!reader

𖦹 partners in crime

kinich, venti, yelan, nilou x gn!reader (soul eater au)

𖦹 pride of the sun

ares kid!tartaglia x apollo kid!fem!reader

𖦹 sole salvation of a fallen nation

gn!reader

𖦹 the honor is mine

sunday x gn!reader

𖦹 the trickster and the sun

hermes kid!kinich x apollo kid!gn!reader

𖦹 waltz into the heart

lyney x single mother!reader

𖦹 we could say ‘let it be’

aventurine x gn!reader

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𖦹 at the end of everything, hold onto anything

kazuha x gn!reader (stellaween event)

𖦹 kid and leveret

knight!kinich x royalty!gn!reader (secret santa event)

𖦹 memory weaver

kaedehara kazuha x fem!reader (200 event)

𖦹 no words needed

alhaitham x gn!reader (valentine’s event)

𖦹 to my name, to the hills!

kazuha x gn!reader (stellaween event)

𖦹 too sweet

lyney x vampire!fem!reader (stellaween event)

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𖦹 loyal dogs

childe x fem!reader

𖦹 arsonist’s lullaby

genshin x the hunger games

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𖦹 and the hound (is humming you a lie)

hermes kid!kinich x gn!ares kid!reader

𖦹 decade uneventful

blade x gn!reader

𖦹 dream seeker

part 2 of “memory weaver”

𖦹 interstellar

various!hsr x gn!reader

𖦹 rusted crowns (of cairnfelle)

ocs x canon

𖦹 to the humming groves

knight!kinich x princess!reader

𖦹 what once was a hamlet

kazuha x gn!witch!reader

© 2024 mikashisus. do not copy, repost, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[bunbitti]

rules and stuff

I take ~3 requests at a time, also don't rush me pls

Taken: 0/3

Long ahh rules only bc it would waste less time for all of us to have ppl asking for stuff I can't write well for

Main interests at the moment (for tldr):

Honkai Star Rail

Zenless Zone Zero

Return of the Blossoming Blade/Return of the Mount Hua Sect

Male characters

Fandoms I know/might write for (may be updated later when I think of more):

Honkai Star Rail

Zenless Zone Zero

Return of the Blossoming Blade/Return of the Mount Hua Sect

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

The World After the Fall

Detroit: Become Human

Maybe other manhwas/series if I've read them (you can try asking if it's not on the list, I can and will write for side characters if I'm attached to them enough lmao)

Fandoms that are a maybe:

Jujutsu Kaisen

The Avengers

Naruto

Attack on Titan

Haikyuu!!

Harry Potter

Undertale/Deltarune

Fandoms I don't write for (this means I either definitely have not read or interacted with the series or don't see myself writing for it much/at all, so that you don't waste your time asking)

Miraculous Ladybug

Boruto

Percy Jackson

Disney, Pixar, etc. movies and stuff?? I didn't have a childhood if you couldn't tell already, and I also don't really watch movies

other sports animes (I'm sorry I just never watched them and I wouldn't have the time to start)

Characters I can do (predominantly male, I can't guarantee any quality for female characters):

HSR - Gepard, Sampo, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Boothill, Sunday, Jiaoqiu, Moze, Mydei, MAYBE Jing Yuan, Argenti, Luocha, Dan Heng, Welt, etc.

ZZZ - Wise, Anton, Billy Kid, Lycaon, Seth, Lighter, Harumasa

ROTBB - Lee Songbaek/Isongbaek/이소백 (x reader-only for him, no ships; there's not enough x-reader and plenty of ship fics for him already), MAYBE main characters/anyone else

ORV - most people, just not x-reader beyond platonic because I can't really see it

TWAF - Carlton/Karlton, maybe others

DBH - Connor, RK900, Hank, Gavin, others maybe

Topics I can do:

sfw, fluff, headcanons, etc.

nsfw (I might not be so good at the explicit stuff, but we can try)

AUs - soulmate, college/modern, royalty, etc.

depression/similar topics (only because I'm likely depressed)

character x reader, if I like that character enough and/or could see them in a relationship with the reader; platonic and romantic both allowed

some ships, only if I'm confident I can pull it off

Topics I won't do:

dubcon/noncon/toxic/abusive stuff (especially between shipped characters or in x-reader relationships) beyond what is already in character, I've had enough of that abusive stuff irl, I don't need it in my writing (having it in a backstory is ok as long as we're doing recovery/healing from it or something)

gore? idk

pedo/zoo/etc.

nsfw if the character(s) is/are minor(s), regardless of if they're shipped with another minor

mental illnesses/other conditions that I'm not familiar with and wouldn't be confident in getting accurate

aging up characters (unless we're talking about canonical versions that exist, like post-timeskip in Haikyuu where characters have jobs and/or are in uni)

whatever I'm not comfortable with

x reader:

unless otherwise requested or stated, will be gender neutral

if it's important to you, you can specify details about the reader (height, size, other physical characteristics, backstory, etc.), otherwise unfortunately I am not a mind reader

likely in 2nd or 3rd person, very unlikely to be 1st person

General:

the more specific you are in the request, the better (sometimes I worry about not getting things how people were thinking of it in their heads lmao)

will probably be short-ish (see the lengths of existing fics) unless by some miracle I have more inspiration

I may be inconsistent af, haha

Don't request nsfw if you're a minor, and don't interact with my nsfw content if you're a minor

Uhh yeah, this should be it, I'll update it when rules change

[rphunter]

🌟 Looking for 1x1 Roleplays 🌟 With more time on my hands now I'm casting my net out for some 1x1 fandom RPs! I prefer to write on discord only and for replies to be at least 2 paragraphs or more but I can easily get to novella lengths! I can write canon but I am a sucker for A/B/O or modern AUs too! Fandoms and pairings listed below! There will be a * next to who I prefer to write! Honkai Star Rail Blade* x Jing Yuan Blade* x Dan Heng Caelus* x Anyone Gepard* x Sampo Mydei* x Phainon Genshin Impact Kinich* x Lyney Venti* x Xiao Omniscient Readers Viewpoint Kim Dokja* x Yoo Joonghyuk Zenless Zone Zero Lighter* x Wise If you're interested drop a like and I'll reach out soon!

,

[devdozes]

♠ Discipline and defiance

[a/n- for dear sister and hope yall like it]

The first time Mydei caught you skipping class, he didn’t say a word.

He simply crossed his arms, adjusted the thin frame his reading glasses, and stared down at you with that infuriatingly calm expression of his. The student council room was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of the clock ticking away the minutes of your detention.

"You’re wasting your potential," he finally said, setting his clipboard down. "Do you know that?"

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair, arms draped over the backrest like you had no care in the world. "Yeah? And who asked you, class prez?"

His sharp golden eyes didn't waver, even as you tried to act tough. Mydei wasn’t like the other professors or students who wrote you off as just another delinquent. No, he always had that irritating patience, like he was waiting for you to prove him wrong. "You're wasting your time." You say firmly in hopes to shake down the unbearable patience of his and to let him leave your ass alone. "I'll be the one in loss if I waste my time, why do you care if I do so?" You frowned, crossing your arms. "'Cause it's annoying."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table between you two. "Then tell me what isn’t annoying. What would make you want to stay in class?"

You blinked, thrown off by the question. No one had ever asked you that before. You expected a lecture, not an actual conversation. "Dunno. Maybe if it weren’t so damn boring."

Mydei hummed, considering your words. "Then let's make a deal. Show up to class for a week. If it's still unbearable, I'll stop bothering you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "And if I don’t?"

"Then you owe me," he said smoothly, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough. "And trust me, I won’t go easy on you."

You clicked your tongue, annoyed by how easily he turned the situation around. But there was something about his confidence, the way he treated this like a challenge rather than a punishment, that made you hesitate.

"Fine. One week," you muttered, standing up. "But if I hate it, you’re buying me lunch for wasting my time."

He actually chuckled. The sound was light and unexpectedly warm, but the smirk on his face said otherwise: "Deal."

The next day, you begrudgingly showed up to class. Mydei didn’t say a word when you slipped into your seat, only glancing up from his notes long enough to acknowledge your presence. You had expected some smug remark, a knowing smirk, but he acted as if your attendance was the most natural thing in the world. That, somehow, made it even more annoying.

By the third day, you noticed he had switched seats to sit a row ahead of you. Coincidence? Maybe. But whenever you found yourself zoning out, his voice—calm, authoritative—would cut through the classroom noise, answering a professor’s question or making some point that was just interesting enough to keep you from completely checking out.

Damn him. You look down onto the paper you are currently writing on, and the words "Concept of thermodynamics" are written in bold black marker on top of the smooth white paper. The once clean and neat paper was now filled with doodles of silly little things,- cats, ribbons, your favourite characters, your moment of doodling was suddenly interrupted as you felt a cold hand on your right shoulder. Fuck. You internally cuss out as a forced smile appears on your face, your neck looking backward only to see the professor's stoic face with his eyebrows furrowed a bit. He puts the chalk on the table and moves his neck towards the blackboard, signalling you to get down to the damn blackboard in front of 70 fucking students in the lecture hall. "(Name), Explain the Equivalence of Clausius and Kelvin Planck Statements." The stern and rough voice of your 4'11 shortstack teacher left you no room to argue back as you sigh and pick up the white chalk, leaving powder on your scarred and calloused hands. Taking a breath, you roll your shoulders back and let the weight of the question settle in. Then, with steady hands, you start writing.

"The Clausius statement asserts that no process is possible whose sole result is the transfer of heat from a colder body to a hotter body without external work input. On the other hand, the Kelvin-Planck statement declares that no process is possible in which heat is absorbed from a single reservoir and completely converted into work."

You pause for a moment, turning back to the class, your voice level but firm. "Both statements essentially describe the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Their equivalence can be demonstrated by assuming one is violated, which would inevitably lead to the violation of the other."

There is a brief silence, the professor’s expression unreadable as he scrutinizes your work. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he nods. "Correct. Take your seat."

As you walk back, you catch Mydei watching you, one brow slightly raised in what could only be intrigue. You slump back into your chair, your hand going into the right pocket of your pants only to take out a green-apple flavoured lollipop as you unwrap it and place the lollipop in your mouth, pretending not to care, but the slight smirk tugging at your lips and the fuzzy feeling in your chest betrays you. Maybe this class wasn’t as bad as you thought.

The lecture continues, but you can feel the weight of Mydei’s gaze lingering on you longer than usual. When the class finally ends, you’re gathering your things when a voice speaks up beside you.

"You're full of surprises."

You glance up to see Mydei standing next to your desk, arms crossed, an almost amused look in his golden eyes.

You roll your eyes. "What, did you think I was an idiot?"

"No," he replies smoothly. "But I did think you'd try to get out of answering."

You scoff, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "Please. If I actually pay attention, this stuff isn’t hard."

His lips twitch slightly at that, but he doesn’t push further. Instead, he walks with you as you exit the hall, the hum of student chatter filling the air.

"So," he says after a pause, "three more days left in our deal. Think you’ll make it?"

You smirk, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "You’re the one who should be worried, class prez. You might actually have to buy me lunch."

For once, Mydei looks caught off guard. Then, to your surprise, he laughs—low and genuine. "We’ll see about that."

And just like that, the next few days you've been trying to find an excuse to leave class or to just act uninterested. You really do, but it ends up failing,g and hence, it's been a week, and you actually want to keep going in studies. You lost the fucking deal. And Mydei knows it.

He doesn’t say anything immediately, but when Friday afternoon rolls around, you find him waiting by the campus gates, arms crossed, that damn smirk back in place. "So," he drawls, "I believe you owe me."

You groan, running a hand through your hair. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" The next words forcefully rushed out all the breath from your lungs as your (e/c) eyes widened and glimmered like stars "A date. you and me, at the skate park."

[edit- should I write a part 2? and I'm takin requests so dm me if u have any requests :)]

part two- https://www.tumblr.com/devdozes/777254844460351488/discipline-and-defiance-pt-2-an-so-much?source=share make sure to like follow and comment 🤓☝️

[devdozes]

♠ Double package of tits and wits

i swear tge title is a joke okaya ���anwyays, maybe innacurate medical knowledge and reader yaps about spiderverse theories tw- description of surgeries, gore (not much), surgeon mydei and reader.

The first time you met Mydei, he was standing in the middle of the ER, clipboard in hand, reading over a patient file with the expression of someone who had just been assigned to clean a crime scene with a toothbrush. He was new, fresh from a high-end medical program, and carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that made nurses whisper and interns both respect and fear him. He had an air of efficiency, crisp in both movement and demeanor, like a man who had everything under control.

Naturally, you had to mess with him.

"Oh no, another serious one," you fake gasped, leaning against the nurses' station, balancing a cup of coffee precariously on a stack of patient charts. "You look like you're contemplating life choices. Did you lose a bet to end up here?"

Mydei slowly looked up from his clipboard, unimpressed. "No. But I assume you did, given your current posture and general air of irresponsibility."

Your smirk widened, tapping your fingers against the cup. "Ah, he's got claws. Good. You'll need them here."

Before he could reply with what you were sure would be a clinical-level roast, a nurse rushed over. "Dr. [L/N], emergency surgery. Chest trauma. OR 2. Now."

Your entire demeanor shifted in an instant. Gone was the playful teasing and casual posture. The coffee was discarded onto the counter, forgotten. You pushed off, face tightening with focus as you nodded. "On it. Let's move."

Mydei watched as you strode off, barking orders at the surgical team like a general leading an army. The contrast was stark—one moment, you were a chaotic sister figure of the hospital, the next, a razor-sharp surgeon whose presence commanded the room with no room for erorr. The ease with which you transitioned between those two states intrigued him. It was impressive.

It became a running joke in the hospital that you never walked—only sprinted. Due to the absurd number of trauma cases flooding the ER, you had been dubbed the "Marathon Runner" by the staff because you were always dashing to the emergency room or the OR, barely catching your breath between surgeries.

One particularly chaotic evening, yet another murder victim was rushed into the ER, the fifth in five days. You were already running before the announcement had finished crackling over the speakers. "Where's Mydei?! I need extra hands!" you yelled over your shoulder.

You caught sight of him further down the hall, walking at his usual composed pace. Not fast enough. In one swift motion, you grabbed his ear and yanked him along, continuing your sprint toward the ER.

"Move it, newbie! We don't have all day!" you barked, barely sparing him a glance as you dragged him with you.

Mydei stumbled slightly but quickly regained his footing, shooting you an exasperated glare. "Is this how you usually recruit your surgical team? Physical assault?"

"If it works, it works! Now stop whining and keep up!"

By the time you burst through the ER doors, Mydei’s expression was a mix of mild irritation and resigned acceptance. The staff barely batted an eye at the scene—just another day in the war zone, and just another mad sprint for the infamous "Marathon Runner." ♥♥♥

The patient was already prepped by the time you and Mydei scrubbed in. Gunshot wound to the underside of the thoracic region, severe internal bleeding, possible liver damage. Time was not on your side.

"Scalpel," you said sharply, hand outstretched as the instrument was placed into your palm.

The moment you made the incision, the world outside the operating table ceased to exist. The chaotic, joking version of you disappeared, replaced by a laser-focused surgeon with only one objective: saving this patient’s life.

"Retractor," Mydei instructed, his voice calm but firm, matching your energy perfectly. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, he worked with the same level of intensity, sharp eyes scanning for complications before they could escalate. "The bullet's lodged near the hepatic vein. High risk of rupture."

You nodded, steady hands navigating the delicate area. "We'll need to remove it without causing further damage. Hold traction here."

He complied without hesitation, and for the next hour, the two of you worked seamlessly, the tension in the room thick as you maneuvered through the critical steps. Nurses exchanged glances—rarely did a new surgeon adapt so well to your pace, but Mydei was holding his ground.

Finally, with careful precision, you made the incision, gently extracting the bullet with forceps. Mydei immediately clamped down on the bleed as you worked to close the wound. "Hemostasis achieved," he confirmed, voice still level despite the high-stakes procedure.

You exhaled sharply, finally allowing yourself to acknowledge the strain in your muscles. "Good work, newbie. Maybe I won't have to drag you by the ear next time."

His mask couldn't hide the slight quirk of his lips. "A relief, truly."

The nurses stifled laughter as the tension broke, and you smirked beneath your mask. Just another day in the war zone cod mentioned

Over the following weeks, the emergency murder victims didn’t stop. If anything, they became more frequent. More victims, more emergency calls, more all-nighters in the OR. You barely had time to breathe between surgeries. The staff was growing anxious—talks of a serial killer floated through the hospital halls, whispers of patterns, speculation about who the next victim would be.

One night, after finishing another back-to-back surgery, you leaned against the break room counter, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. Mydei sat across from you, arms crossed, his usual composed expression marred by something contemplative.

"You notice it too, don’t you?" you muttered, cracking open a cold energy drink. Mydei inhaled slowly, "Mhm. Yeah, I did, it is truly concerning. Who could be doing all this? and why are these happening to only those who are connected to the hospital in some way or the other?" "As much as I would like to say that it's a conspiracy theory although this seems too..well planned," You reply before taking a huge gulp of your energy drink, and cringing out as the brain freeze kicks in "OH FUCK BRAIN FREEZE!!" "Good lord"

Surgery after surgery. Shift after shift. Barely enough time to breathe.

You were used to this—the endless flood of trauma cases, the sleepless nights, the way your body screamed for rest but never quite got it. The hospital never slowed down, and neither did you. And with the murders increasing, the ER had become more of a war zone than ever.

But if there was one silver lining in this chaotic, bloodstained mess, it was that you had a new plaything—Mydei.

He had only been here for a couple of months, but the poor bastard had already been roped into your whirlwind pace. Every time another trauma case came barreling through those ER doors, it was like clockwork—you and Mydei, sprinting through the halls, elbow-deep in someone's guts five minutes later.

And to your shock? The guy was handling your bullshit.

Mostly.

♥♥♥

Surgery #1 “Another one?” Mydei muttered as he scrubbed in, glancing at the case file.

You huffed, aggressively tying your mask. “Yup. Because life is fair and normal and totally not a complete joke.”

“It is, in fact, not fair or normal,” Mydei agreed dryly, stepping into the OR beside you. “We just had back-to-back stab wounds two hours ago.”

“Welcome to the life of an average surgeon,” you shot back, holding out your hand. “Scalpel.”

The instrument was placed in your palm, and you immediately got to work, making the first incision. The moment the skin parted, blood surged up like a dark tide, and you barely resisted the urge to curse.

“Gunshot went clean through the left lung,” Mydei noted, his hands already moving to assist. “We need to clear the hemorrhaging before we can close it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Look at you, newbie. Talking like a real trauma surgeon.”

“Unlike you, I actually paid attention in medical school.”

“Unlike you, I actually know how to function on three hours of sleep and an energy drink,” you retorted, maneuvering the forceps with ease.

He didn’t even dignify that with a response, focusing instead on securing the ruptured artery. The monitors beeped wildly as the patient’s vitals dipped, and for the next hour, it was a brutal game of tug-of-war with death.

But eventually, after what felt like forever, the bleeding was controlled, the lung repaired, and the incision closed.

Another one survived. Another round of exhaustion settling deep into your bones.

As you peeled off your gloves, you nudged Mydei with your elbow. “Good work, newbie. You only looked mildly horrified this time.”

“I was not horrified.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you said, smirking behind your mask.

♥♥♥ Surgery #5

Mydei had just sat down in the break room, a cup of coffee in one hand and his sanity barely intact, when you kicked the door open, with the most tired, zombie-like eyes ever, but your energy said otherwsie.

“We have another stab wound victim,” you announced dramatically, pointing at him like you were accusing him of a crime.

He stared at you for exactly three seconds. Then, without breaking eye contact, he calmly put down his coffee, stood up, and walked past you.

“You coming?” he said flatly.

You grinned and followed after him, practically skipping.

By the time you were both in the OR again, hands scrubbed, gloved, and ready to operate, you could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. But at this point, exhaustion was just another permanent state of being.

“Another day, another stab victim,” you muttered, making the first incision. “I should start keeping a tally at this point.”

“I assume you already do,” Mydei said without looking up, using a retractor to hold the muscle layers apart.

“I do, actually. I carved it into the back of the break room door.”

He blinked. “You did what?”

“I’m kidding.”

“… Are you?”

“Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath about unprofessionalism and ‘why do I work with you’, but his hands never faltered.

And as always, you and Mydei worked seamlessly, patching up yet another poor soul and dragging them back from the brink of death.

♥♥♥

Surgery #9

It had been twenty hours since either of you had properly rested, and you were running on nothing but spite, lemon-flavored energy drinks, and questionable life choices.

“Did you seriously just chew a lemon before scrubbing in?” Mydei asked, his voice filled with both disbelief and vague disappointment.

“Yup,” you said cheerfully, barely suppressing a yawn.

“Unbelievable.”

“You say that like this isn’t my standard operating procedure.”

“… That is the problem.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking his head and focusing on the patient before you. It was a nasty case—multiple knife wounds across the abdomen and thigh, excessive blood loss, risk of sepsis.

The moment you started cutting, it was pure chaos. Blood loss was extreme, the heart monitor was fluctuating wildly, and the nurses were scrambling to keep up with the damage.

Through it all, you and Mydei moved in perfect sync—suctioning, stitching, clamping arteries before they could burst.

“Patient’s BP is dropping,” a nurse warned.

“We need to move faster,” Mydei said, his voice sharp.

You didn’t hesitate, maneuvering the forceps with expert precision, your breathing controlled even as tension mounted. The OR was filled with nothing but the sounds of beeping monitors and the relentless rhythm of your hands moving against time itself.

And then—

Stabilization.

The vitals steadied. The bleeding stopped. The worst was over.

You let out a long, exhausted breath, finally stepping back. “Oh my fucking god. That was hell.”

Mydei, equally exhausted, glanced at you. “At least we’re still alive.”

“For now,” you muttered, tossing your gloves into the bin.

♥♥♥

After nine surgeries in less than two days, the exhaustion finally hit you like a truck.

As you walked into the break room, Mydei following behind, you dramatically collapsed onto the couch, draping yourself over the armrest. “I am dying. This is it. Tell my story.”

Mydei raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No.”

“Rude.”

He ignored you, instead pouring himself another cup of coffee with all the grace of a man barely holding himself together.

You peeked at him from the couch. “You know, newbie, for someone who acts all serious, you’re weirdly good at keeping up with my insanity.”

He took a slow sip of his coffee, meeting your gaze with a look of complete indifference. “Because someone has to make sure you don’t actually die from your own bad habits.”

You grinned. “Aww. You care.”

“I don’t.”

“You totally do.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re looking out for me. Admit it.”

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “I regret working here.”

“No, you don’t.”

He took another long sip of coffee, not answering.

And despite how exhausted you both were—despite the blood, the chaos, and the looming shadow of the unbelievably many cases—you couldn’t help but laugh. You then stand up, stretching your arms upwards and bending down until you feel a sense of relief. "Alright, I'm going to go in the dorm to rest now, call me if anything happens" You sluggishly say while walking outside the door, not giving Mydei a single look as you slam the door shut.

The hospital was never quiet.

Machines beeped, nurses murmured in hushed voices, and somewhere down the hall, the steady rhythm of footsteps echoed against the tiled floors. It was a never-ending cycle of exhaustion and urgency.

But for once, you weren’t in the middle of the chaos.

You had crashed in the break room after nine surgeries back-to-back, running on caffeine and pure adrenaline. The moment your body hit the couch, you were out—four hours of deep, dreamless sleep. It wasn’t enough, not even close, but at least you could function again.

You groggily blinked awake, stretching slightly as your stiff muscles protested. Something felt different.

Lifting your head, you noticed the dimmed lights and the faint chill of the air conditioning. And then—your gaze landed on the figure at the desk.

Mydei.

Fast asleep.

His arms were folded on the surface, head resting on them, his usual sharp posture completely gone. His strawberry-blonde hair, with its signature faded red tips, was a little messier than usual—strands falling over his forehead, some brushing against his closed eyes. Even the normally well-hidden red tattoos that curled faintly along his collarbone and neck were just barely visible beneath the slightly loosened collar of his uniform.

You stared.

It wasn’t like you’d never seen Mydei exhausted before—you practically lived in the trenches together, spending ungodly hours in the operating room, barely catching breaks between emergencies. But this?

You’d never seen him this unguarded.

His sharp golden eyes—usually keen, unwavering, always calculating—were closed, his breathing deep and steady. Without that intense gaze, the usual tension in his expression had softened, leaving behind something… calmer.

… Honestly? He kinda looked like a big, overworked tiger curled up for a nap.

Which made the urge to mess with him even stronger.

Still groggy, you dragged yourself off the couch and plopped down beside him. Instead of waking him up, you mirrored his position—arms folded, head resting on them.

And then—you just watched him.

Not in a creepy way, of course. 🤨

You were just… admiring.

The way his hair fell over his face, the subtle rise and fall of his breathing, the faintest crease in his brow like even in sleep, his mind was still running through checklists and surgical procedures.

It was rare to see Mydei so… still.

You exhaled softly, tilting your head slightly, and without really thinking, you reached forward—lightly brushing a stray strand of his hair out of his face.

His hair was softer than you expected.

Not fair.

“… Damn,” you whispered, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Didn’t know you could actually look peaceful.”

No response.

“… Or that you had a soft side. Thought you just ran on stress and stubbornness.”

Still nothing.

You chuckled, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Maybe you’d just sit here for a while.

The break room was quiet—a rare thing in a hospital where chaos never took a break. The distant hum of machines and the occasional muffled voice from the hallway were the only reminders that the world outside was still moving.

But here, at this moment, it felt like time had slowed down.

You had only meant to sit beside Mydei for a little while—maybe tease him when he woke up, maybe just steal a moment of peace. But the exhaustion that had been dragging at your bones for hours finally caught up to you.

Your breathing evened out, your eyelids grew heavier, and before you even realized it… you were out.

Your head tilted slightly, resting against your folded arms—barely a few inches away from Mydei’s.

For a while, the two of you just slept there.

The break room remained undisturbed, the dim lighting casting soft shadows over the both of you. The warmth of exhaustion settled in, and despite the hard surface of the desk, despite the stress of the hospital, you slept soundly.

It wasn’t long before Mydei stirred.

His sharp golden eyes fluttered open, blinking away the haze of sleep. It took him a moment to register where he was—the familiar scent of antiseptic, the low hum of hospital equipment, the faint chill of the AC brushing against his skin.

And then—he noticed you.

Still fast asleep.

Mydei froze.

You were so close.

Your head was resting on your arms, your breathing slow and even. Your hair was slightly messy from the way you had collapsed against the desk, a few strands falling over your face. Your usual smirk and teasing remarks were absent, leaving behind a rare, peaceful expression.

For the first time since he had met you, you looked completely relaxed.

His gaze lingered.

Longer than necessary.

The way your eyelashes rested lightly against your skin. The way your lips were slightly parted in sleep. The way your entire presence, which was usually so chaotic, loud, and restless, was now quiet and soft.

Mydei’s fingers twitched slightly—as if resisting the urge to reach forward.

He swallowed, looking away for a brief moment, but his eyes inevitably found their way back to you.

Why did you always manage to surprise him?

Every day in this hospital, you ran on energy that should’ve been impossible, pushing through sleepless nights, impossible surgeries, and the constant storm of emergencies with a smirk and a sharp remark.

But now?

Now you were just a person. A tired, overworked person who had finally given in to exhaustion.

Mydei exhaled slowly, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

“… Idiot.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no bite in it.

Just something quiet.

Something unspoken.

Something fond.

His golden eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes again.

♥♥♥

Not even after a few minutes, his sharp golden eyes fluttered open again. And Mydei remained still, his sharp golden eyes lingering on you as you slept—your breath slow and even, lips slightly parted, exhaustion weighing heavily on your features.

It was rare to see you like this.

Usually, you were everywhere—a constant storm of motion, teasing remarks, and sharp wit. You sprinted through hallways, laughed in the face of pressure, and dragged him into surgeries without so much as a warning.

But now?

Now you looked… adorable.

A rare sight. One that made something tighten in Mydei’s chest.

Without fully thinking, his hand moved on its own.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, featherlight—hesitant, almost uncertain.

His touch was gentle, warm despite the callouses from years of steady-handed practice in surgery. He traced the faint warmth of your skin, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing, the way your eyelashes barely fluttered in sleep.

Soft.

You always carried yourself with a reckless energy, a chaotic presence that burned like an uncontrollable fire. And yet, here you were, fragile in a way he’d never seen before.

Mydei swallowed, pulling his hand away reluctantly.

You needed rest.

And if he knew you at all, the moment you woke up, you'd be right back to running through the hospital like a madwoman.

With careful movements, he shifted forward, sliding his arms beneath you.

His hands settled under your back and legs as he lifted you effortlessly—your body light in his grasp, head naturally falling against his shoulder.

You stirred slightly.

A soft murmur left your lips, barely coherent, but you didn't wake.

Mydei stiffened, pausing for a second as his heart gave a single, unexpectedly loud thud.

Then, when he was sure you wouldn’t suddenly snap awake and make some kind of smug remark, he continued moving.

Crossing the break room in a few quiet steps, he carefully lowered you onto the bed.

The mattress dipped slightly beneath your weight, and Mydei took his time ensuring you were comfortable. He adjusted your arm so it wasn’t awkwardly twisted, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear before pulling the blanket over you.

He watched for a moment.

The way your lips parted slightly in your sleep. The way you instinctively curled into the warmth of the blanket.

Then, finally, he exhaled—stepping back.

His gaze lingered.

Just a little longer.

The next day, the emergency room was in chaos again.

Another murder victim had arrived—stabbed five times across the torso. But this time, it was different. The victim was one of the kidney donors for an upcoming transplant surgery.

"Damn it," you hissed under your breath, already sprinting down the hallway. "Where’s Mydei?!"

Just like before, you spotted him walking toward the ER. Without hesitation, you grabbed his arm, dragging him along at full speed.

"Another one?" he asked, voice edged with something colder this time.

"Yeah, and it’s bad. Let’s go."

You burst into the OR, scrubbing in faster than you ever had. As you pulled on your gloves, the sight before you made your stomach drop. The victim was barely hanging on, the stab wounds deep, organs likely compromised. fuckfuckfuckfuck.

♥♥♥

The operating room was already a bloody fucking battlefield by the time you and Mydei scrubbed in, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood. Nurses moved with trained precision, hooking up transfusions, adjusting monitors, and preparing for what would undoubtedly be a long, grueling surgery. The overhead surgical lights cast harsh illumination over the patient’s torso—five deep stab wounds, oozing dark crimson with every weakening pulse.

Heart rate: dangerously unstable. Blood pressure: crashing.

Your jaw tightened as you surveyed the damage. Stabs this deep weren’t meant to be survived. Whoever did this had aimed to kill.

“Damn it,” you muttered, snapping on your gloves. “If we don’t stop the bleeding now, he’s going into irreversible shock.”

Mydei, standing opposite you, let out a slow breath, already tying his mask over his face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—sharp, calculating—scanned the wounds just as fast as yours. “Five stab wounds. Two to the upper left quadrant, three to the lower right. If the knife went deep enough, we could be looking at a perforated intestine or a renal artery injury.”

Your pulse spiked. A renal artery injury was a death sentence without immediate intervention.

“Massive transfusion protocol,” you snapped. A nurse responded instantly, prepping units of blood and plasma. “We need volume replacement now.”

Mydei nodded. “We’ll clamp first, repair later. If we go straight to suturing with this much blood loss, he’ll code on the table.”

No arguments. No wasted time. You were already reaching out.

“Scalpel.”

The cold metal handle was placed into your palm within seconds. You made your incision with expert precision, cutting through damaged tissue with just enough force to expose the internal injury without worsening it. Blood immediately welled up, pooling at the edges, but you ignored it.

“Suction,” Mydei instructed. A nurse responded instantly, clearing your field of vision.

You leaned in, eyes narrowing as you inspected the worst of the damage. “Wound number three tore straight through the abdominal muscles—there’s internal bleeding near the right kidney, but no penetration to the organ itself. Wound number five is the real problem.”

Mydei adjusted his grip on the retractor, carefully exposing the area. “It’s deep. Arterial involvement is definite.”

You exhaled sharply. “We need to clamp the renal artery now. If we don’t stop this bleed, the kidney’s gone.”

Without hesitation, he reached for the vascular clamp and maneuvered it into place, securing the artery just enough to slow the hemorrhaging without cutting off circulation completely. The heart monitor beeped erratically, a sharp, nerve-wracking rhythm reminding you both that time was running out.

Your mind worked at lightning speed. A clean suture wouldn’t be enough. The artery needed reinforcement.

“Vascular shunt,” you ordered.

The nurse handed it over, and Mydei carefully inserted the temporary tubing into the laceration, allowing blood to continue flowing while preventing further hemorrhage. It was a calculated move—buying you time to stabilize the patient before a definitive repair.

The surgery stretched into hours. Each stab wound presented a new set of complications—layers of muscle damage, ruptured capillaries, tissue trauma that required intricate repair. At one point, the patient’s vitals dipped dangerously low, sending a wave of tension through the OR.

“Heart rate’s dropping,” a nurse announced, voice tight.

You snapped your fingers, already moving. “Increase fluids, push epinephrine if needed.”

Mydei’s voice remained steady despite the pressure. “The renal artery’s secured. Moving on to muscle closure.”

You nodded, exhaling sharply as you reinforced the sutures around the artery and checked for residual bleeding. “Alright. That’s the worst of it. We’ll leave the abdomen open with a temporary closure—he’s too unstable for a full close-up now.”

The next steps were grueling. Stitching up torn muscle, ensuring no internal bleeding remained, placing protective barriers to prevent sepsis. The process required patience and absolute focus.

By the time you secured the final surgical dressing, the monitors had stabilized. The heart rate was still weak, but steady. The kidney function was preserved. Against the odds, the patient had survived.

The room was silent for a moment—no words, just the heavy weight of exhaustion and relief pressing down on you.

Then, finally, you leaned back, stretching out your stiff shoulders. “Well,” you said, voice hoarse, “that was an absolute nightmare.”

Mydei removed his gloves with that same composed expression, though there was a flicker of something else in his gaze—something unreadable. “But he lived.”

You huffed out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. He did.

The second you stepped out of the OR, the weight of the past few hours slammed into you all at once.

Your legs felt like lead, exhaustion pressing into every joint and muscle. The harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway blurred at the edges of your vision, and your pulse drummed sluggishly in your ears.

The moment you made it past the door, your knees buckled.

You barely had the energy to curse before your back hit the wall, and you slumped down onto the cold tile floor. Your head lolled back against the surface, eyes fluttering shut as you exhaled sharply.

“Shit.” The word came out as more of a breath than a complaint.

The sheer amount of adrenaline, focus, and precision that the surgery had required had drained you completely. Even though you’d done longer procedures before, something about this one had left you bone-tired.

Maybe it was because the patient shouldn’t have made it. Maybe it was because you’d spent every second fighting against the inevitable.

Maybe it was just the way your body was finally giving out.

A pair of footsteps stopped beside you.

You barely cracked an eye open before a shadow loomed over you.

Mydei.

Still in his surgical gown, mask pulled down, golden eyes sharp and alert. He stood over you, arms crossed, brows pinched slightly—though whether in concern or exasperation, you couldn’t tell.

“You look pathetic,” he noted, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

You gave him a half-hearted smirk. “Flatter me more, tiger.”

His expression barely flickered, though the faint twitch in his jaw told you he was holding back a sigh. Instead of responding, he simply crouched down beside you.

“You should get up.”

“I literally can’t feel my legs.”

“Tch.” A beat passed before Mydei exhaled through his nose. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and—

Grasped your wrist.

His fingers curled around your pulse point, firm and steady, grounding you to reality.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you didn’t have the energy to react beyond that.

“Pulse is weak,” he murmured.

“No shit,” you mumbled, head lolling slightly to the side as you closed your eyes again. “It’s almost like I just performed a life-saving operation or something.”

There was a long pause.

Then—before you could fully process it—you felt warmth press against your forehead.

Mydei’s hand.

His palm was broad and slightly cool, pressing against your damp skin in a way that was almost soothing. And his scent—you may have just come out of a 12-hour surgery with him but god he smelled good, a hint of raspberry, vanilla, and pomegranate? You almost leaned into his touch before stopping yourself and tightening your body.

Checking your temperature. That’s all it was. Just routine.

Still, your stomach did a strange little flip.

“You’re burning up,” he muttered. His voice was quieter now, softer, but still carrying that same weight of irritated concern.

“I’ll live,” you said, though your body very much disagreed.

He didn’t move his hand away immediately. He stayed there for a second longer, studying you. Then, finally, he pulled back, exhaling sharply.

“Come on.” He pushed himself up to his feet, then—without warning—reached down again and grasped you by the forearm.

“Wait—”

He hauled you up.

Too fast. Your body protested instantly, knees nearly buckling again.

Without thinking, you grabbed onto his coat for support.

For a moment, the two of you were far too close.

Your forehead nearly brushed against his collarbone, and in that brief second, you felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the slight heat radiating off of him, the faintest scent of disinfectant and something vaguely warm—like ginger and cloves.

Your fingers tightened on his coat for just a second.

His grip on your arm lingered.

Then—Mydei cleared his throat.

“You’re impossible.” His voice was gruff as he steadied you properly, making sure you could stand on your own. “I swear, if you collapse again, I’m dragging you to a bed myself.”

You forced out a weak, tired smirk. “That a promise, doc?”

He stared at you for a second. Then, with a huff, he turned on his heel.

“Break room. Now,” he ordered over his shoulder. “Before you actually pass out.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck.

With how heavy your limbs felt, you had no choice but to obey.

The break room was dimly lit, the overhead lights turned down low to keep the atmosphere calm. A faint hum from the vending machine filled the space, along with the occasional soft beep from someone’s pager in the distance.

You were lying on the couch, one arm lazily draped over your stomach, feeling much better after your forced rest. Mydei, on the other hand, sat on a chair nearby, long legs stretched out, one arm resting against the table.

He had forced you to rest. You had technically obeyed. You closed your eyes. You stayed still. You didn't pass out from exhaustion. Success.

…But now you were bored out of your goddamn mind.

Which led you to this.

“So technically, in ‘Across the Spider-Verse,’ Miguel’s entire logic about ‘canon events’ is flawed because the entire idea of a multiverse means infinite possibilities. You can’t have a strict set of events that must happen in every universe, because that would contradict the whole ‘infinite variation’ thing—”

Mydei was actually listening.

Despite his usual deadpan demeanor, he hadn’t told you to shut up or leave him alone yet. Instead, his sharp golden eyes were fixed on you, brows slightly furrowed as he processed your rant.

“…That’s assuming the multiverse follows a quantum branching system,” he said, voice calm and thoughtful. “But if we apply a more structured framework—like the Many Worlds Interpretation—then it’s possible that only specific variations of events can exist while still allowing divergence.”

You blinked. “You’re actually engaging in this conversation.”

He gave you a look. “You sound surprised.”

“I am surprised. I expected you to roll your eyes and tell me to sleep.”

Mydei shrugged. “I don’t mind listening.”

You stared at him for a second, then grinned. “Damn. You’re a nerd.”

He exhaled, shaking his head, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips.

Undeterred, you continued.

“But Miguel is literally contradicting himself,” you argued, shifting slightly on the couch. “He says Miles wasn’t supposed to be Spider-Man, meaning he technically never had a ‘canon’ to begin with. So why would the universe force him into one now?”

Mydei tapped his fingers idly against the table. “It could be that the multiverse adapts, forming new constants based on anomalies.”

“But that would mean anyone could be Spider-Man.”

“Perhaps.” He tilted his head slightly. “Or perhaps Miguel’s mistake was believing he could control a system that was never meant to be controlled in the first place.”

You stared at him.

“…I’m actually impressed.”

He raised a brow. “You thought I wasn’t capable of holding a conversation?”

“No, I just didn’t expect you to willingly entertain my Spider-Verse nonsense.”

Mydei let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly.

“…You like talking about it,” he murmured. “So I don’t mind.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart do a weird little flip.

You quickly covered it with a smirk. “Careful, doc. You’re gonna make me think you enjoy my company.”

He simply looked at you.

A pause.

Then—

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over your face. “You were doing so well, and then you just had to ruin it.”

Mydei huffed softly, shaking his head. “You’re exhausting.”

Mydei sat at the table, flipping through a patient file, but you knew he wasn’t really reading it. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, had that half-lidded, exhausted look—the kind that screamed I have five minutes before my brain shuts down.

You weren’t much better.

Despite your fake nap, sleep still refused to claim you, leaving you restless and annoyingly aware of how much your body ached from standing in surgery for hours. Your stomach twisted—not in pain, but in that weird way that told you hey, dumbass, maybe eat something before you actually collapse.

But…you’d ignored hunger before.

It’d pass.

Probably.

Then, Mydei spoke.

“Change your clothes.”

You blinked, snapping out of your haze. “Huh?”

He barely looked up. “We’re going out.”

You raised a brow. “Since when do you voluntarily leave the hospital?”

“Since I realized you’re just as bad as me when it comes to taking care of yourself.” He finally met your gaze, golden eyes unwavering. “Neither of us has eaten anything real in over twelve hours. If we don’t fix that now, we’ll both be too dead to function tomorrow.”

You wanted to argue. Really, you did.

But he wasn’t wrong.

You had both been running on caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer spite for the past…God, you didn’t even know how many hours.

“…Fair point.” You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself up from the couch with a groan. Holy shit, your muscles were stiff.

Mydei had already stood, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the last few hours. His hair—normally somewhat neat—was slightly disheveled, the faded red tips a little more pronounced under the dim lighting. You caught a glimpse of the faint tattoos along his neck when he stretched, but—as usual—he made sure not to expose too much.

He didn’t like drawing attention to them.

Not that you’d ever ask why.

“Alright, doc,” you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go eat before we actually drop dead.”

Mydei simply nodded, grabbing his coat.

And just like that, the two of you left the hospital behind—two overworked, half-dead surgeons, finally taking care of themselves for once.

♥♥♥

The rumble of Mydei’s bike beneath you was oddly soothing, the crisp night air rushing past as the two of you sped down the empty streets. The hospital was long behind you, and for once, you weren’t drowning in the stench of antiseptic and blood—just fresh air, neon-lit roads, and the low hum of the engine.

You leaned back slightly, arms wrapped around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through his jacket. He was solid. Reliable. Steady.

Not that you’d ever tell him that.

“You always drive this fast?” you teased over the wind.

“Faster, usually.”

You snorted. “Damn. And here I thought you were the responsible one.”

Mydei didn’t respond, you roll your eyes and then you suddenly a hear a slow, deep amused chuckle from his side. Fake ass scary wannabe

The place Mydei picked was a small, cozy restaurant—dim lighting, warm colors, and the scent of something freshly baked lingering in the air. Definitely not the high-energy bar you half-expected him to take you to.

You slid into the booth across from him, propping your chin on your hand as you lazily glanced over the menu.

“So,” you mused, “what’s the Mydei Special?”

He barely hesitated. “Strawberry ice cream shake.”

You blinked. Paused.

Then you burst out laughing.

Mydei just stared, unimpressed. “What?”

You tried—tried—to hold back your laughter, but the mental image of this tall, buff, scary-looking man sipping on a strawberry-flavored ice cream shake like it was the most normal thing in the world was sending you.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed, “you have the biggest sweet tooth, don’t you?”

He didn’t confirm. He didn’t deny it either.

“…It’s good,” was all he said, as if that was enough of an explanation. And you swear you see a small pout on his stern face along with a slight blush on his cheeks.

You grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you’re telling me, out of all the drinks on this menu, you saw ‘strawberry ice cream shake’ and went yep, that’s the one?”

“Yes.”

Your grin widened. “No regrets?”

“None.”

You shook your head, still grinning, before waving the waitress over. “Alright, alright, respect. I’ll take a limoncello.”

Mydei nodded at her. “And I’ll have the strawberry ice cream shake.”

The waitress smiled politely before walking off with your order.

You still hadn’t stopped snickering when she came back a few minutes later—with your drinks.

Only…

She placed the limoncello in front of Mydei and the strawberry shake in front of you.

Because, of course, everyone assumed the big, brooding man with golden tiger-like eyes was the one ordering alcohol, and the chaotic, snarky, sweet you was the one drinking something soft and sweet.

There was a beat of silence.

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to laugh again.

Mydei just stared at the drink in front of him.

Slowly, he looked back up at you. “Switch.”

“Wait, no, this is hilarious.”

“Switch.”

“I should take a picture first—”

“Switch.”

Now you were full-on laughing. “Oh my god, you’re actually embarrassed.”

He wasn’t. Not really. But the flat stare he gave you made it so much funnier.

Eventually, you relented, swapping the drinks properly. But as Mydei sipped his strawberry shake—totally unfazed—you couldn’t help but admire just how effortlessly him he was.

Big, intimidating, and secretly soft as hell.

Yeah. You were keeping this information for blackmail later.

The ride back to the hospital was uneventful, but there was a strange sense of dread lingering in your chest. Maybe it was the way Mydei’s grip on the handlebars felt a little tense, or maybe it was the way the city lights seemed too quiet for this time of night.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was intuition.

When you stepped off the bike and walked back inside, the sterile white halls of the hospital were as cold as ever, humming under dim fluorescent lights.

But then—

You saw her.

Standing in front of the breakroom. Arms crossed, expression unreadable, piercing blue eyes locked directly onto the both of you.

Aglaea.

The hospital director.

Your stomach plummeted.

“Oh. Shit.”

You felt Mydei stiffen beside you. Not visibly—but you knew him well enough to notice.

Aglaea wasn’t like the other directors you’d met in your life. She was meticulous. Calculated. Sharp as a scalpel and just as dangerous when she wanted to be.

And right now, she was staring directly at you both like a mother catching her kids sneaking in past curfew.

“…You’re back,” she said smoothly, voice as cool as ever.

You cleared your throat, nudging Mydei slightly. Say something, idiot.

“…Yes,” Mydei said simply.

Silence.

Aglaea’s gaze slowly flickered between you and Mydei.

Then, she sighed. “Do I want to know where you two have been?”

“…Cafeteria,” you blurted.

She raised a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow. “The hospital cafeteria closes at 8 PM.”

“We took the long route.”

Mydei shot you a look. The ‘seriously?’ look.

Aglaea, to your absolute horror, looked vaguely amused.

“You took the long route,” she repeated, clearly not buying a damn word of it.

“…Yes,” you said again, just to commit to the lie.

For a long moment, Aglaea said nothing. Just stared at the both of you with that air of quiet superiority, as if she already knew exactly what happened and was merely giving you a chance to embarrass yourselves.

Then, finally, she sighed.

“I assume you both at least ate something?”

“…Yes,” Mydei answered.

“And slept?”

You and Mydei hesitated.

Aglaea closed her eyes briefly, as if resisting the urge to scold you both like children. Then, after a moment, she just exhaled slowly and rubbed her temple.

“I don’t know what I expected,” she muttered to herself.

You exchanged a glance with Mydei.

Then, cautiously, you asked, “Are we… in trouble?”

Aglaea opened her eyes again, looking utterly unimpressed.

“No, but you will be if you keep this up.” She gave you both a look. “Surgeons are only as good as the state they keep themselves in. If you start making a habit of neglecting your own health, I will personally ensure you take forced leave.”

You grimaced. Forced leave meant staying at home, doing nothing. Which was actual hell.

“Noted,” Mydei murmured.

“Good.” Aglaea turned, stepping aside. “Get some rest. I expect you both back on duty in four hours.”

Four hours. That was generous.

You exhaled in relief, muttering, “Understood.”

Aglaea shot one last glance with her sharp yet cool cyan-green eyes at the both of you before walking away, leaving you slumping against the breakroom door.

“…That was terrifying,” you muttered.

Mydei hummed. “She went easy on us.”

“That was her going easy?”

He didn’t answer, just pushed open the door to the breakroom. You followed him inside, stretching out with a long, tired sigh.

“Well,” you huffed, flopping onto the couch. “That went better than expected.”

Mydei didn’t respond—he was already shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto a chair before sitting down beside you.

For a long, comfortable silence, you both just sat there, the exhaustion slowly catching up.

Then, finally, you nudged him with your foot.

“…Strawberry shake,” you murmured with a teasing grin.

Mydei didn’t open his eyes. “Sleep.”

“You like cute things—”

“Sleep.”

You snickered. Maybe you’d get some rest. But only after you finished teasing him about this for another ten minutes.

♥♥♥

You didn’t even bother changing into something more comfortable before dragging yourself to the breakroom. If Aglaea was going to forcefully make you rest, you might as well do it on your own terms.

And by ‘rest,’ you meant laying on the small bed with your phone, zoning out.

Mydei followed in after you, shrugging off his coat before sitting down near the sink, his sharp golden eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

The restroom was dimly lit, the overhead fluorescent lights buzzing faintly, mixing with the hum of the hospital beyond these walls. It was quiet here. Too quiet.

You sighed, taking out your phone, plugging in your earphones, and scrolling through your playlists before finally settling on something slow, dreamy, and detached.

The soft, melancholic strum of the guitar filled your ears as you leaned back, closing your eyes. The aching tiredness in your bones was undeniable, but sleep wouldn’t come that easily.

And then—

A warm hand suddenly plucked an earbud out of your ear.

You opened one eye just in time to see Mydei casually pop it into his ear, settling beside you like he owned the place.

Your brain lagged.

“…Did you just—”

“Yes.” His voice was smooth, as unreadable as ever. He leaned back slightly, his expression neutral as if he didn’t just steal your music.

You blinked at him.

Then, without thinking, you muttered, “…Double package of tits and wits.”

Silence.

Mydei slowly turned his head to look at you. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to determine whether he actually heard that right or if he was simply too tired to process it.

“Excuse me what the fuck?” "Erm.. that was a compliment"

anwyays hi i have math exam next killl me credits to my sister to helping me with all the medical knowledge 💔

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

　ུᩧ　 THE OLDER THE BETTERRRR !

₊˚ෆ tws : dilf mydei x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, creampie, clit play, clit slapping, dumbification, pet-names, dacryphilia, boob obsessed mydei, overstimulation, size kink, mentions of reader drooling, age gap, degradation, man handling, aftercare, slight fluff, multiple of rounds, body worship and praise kink.

₊˚ෆ synopsis : You should’ve known better than to follow Mydei home. That deep voice, those sharp golden eyes, the smirk that spelled trouble—you were his before he even laid a hand on you. Now, you’re beneath him, wrecked and trembling as he fucks you open, every slow thrust leaving you dazed and drooling, lost in his teasing words and the pleasure he drags out of you. (Modern au)

₊˚ෆ note : not proof read. header is a doujinshi and you can find it on X/Twitter from : sakuranotomoru !! also I wrote this half asleep.

You should’ve known what you were getting into when you followed Mydei home.

The way he looked at you across the café table, the way his deep, smooth voice wrapped around his words like he already had you figured out—it was enough to make your mind hazy before he even laid a hand on you.

Now, you were here, stretched out on his bed, your body trembling beneath him. His hands, large and firm, roamed your skin with possessive ease, his golden eyes drinking in every inch of you.

“Such a pretty thing,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. “Didn’t think you’d be this sensitive. Just a little touch, and you’re already shaking.”

You whimpered, barely able to respond. Your thoughts had melted the moment Mydei had started touching you, his fingers expertly teasing your clit, slow and deliberate. His size alone overwhelmed you, his body covering yours completely as he loomed over you, his broad chest firm and warm against your skin.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” he teased, dragging his fingers through your slick folds before pressing a thumb against your clit again, making you jolt. “Can’t even answer me? Is it too much?”

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. Your lips were parted, a thin string of drool trailing down your chin as your mind turned into nothing but static under his touch. Mydei clicked his tongue.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, low and pleased, “You really are dumb for me, huh?”

You didn’t even care how embarrassing it was—you were dumb for him. Everything he did felt too good, too intense. His fingers were thicker than anyone’s you’d ever had, stretching you open with ease, pressing against the deepest parts of you. And he wasn’t even inside yet.

Your back arched as his thumb circled your clit again, this time with more pressure. The sensation sent a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through you, and you whined, grabbing at his wrist in desperation.

“Too much—” you gasped, legs trembling.

“Too much?” Mydei repeated, tilting his head. "You're already making such a mess, and I’ve barely even started."

He pressed a soft kiss against your cheek, deceptively sweet, before his other hand came up to wipe away the tear that had slipped down your face. His thumb smeared the wetness across your cheek, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Crying already? Thought you could handle this,” he cooed mockingly.

Your response was a choked sob, half-pleasure, half-overwhelmed, as he pressed his fingers deeper inside you, curling just right. You felt lightheaded, pleasure building too fast, too sharp.

“Mydei—” you gasped, your body tightening around him.

“Shhh,” he hushed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. You don’t need to think. Just let me use this pretty little body, yeah?”

His words made your walls flutter around his fingers, and Mydei chuckled at how easy you were to read. “Oh? You like that? Being my dumb little thing, just here to feel good?”

You nodded weakly, your mind blanking out completely as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body trembled under him, mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“That’s it,” Mydei murmured, his pace never slowing. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you need me.”

Your release hit you hard, your body jerking, breath stuttering as the pleasure washed over you. But Mydei didn’t stop. His fingers kept moving, coaxing you through it, overstimulating you as you writhed beneath him.

“Too much,” you whimpered, eyes hazy with tears, legs twitching.

“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed, but there was no mercy in his voice. "But I’m not done with you yet.”

And as he finally pulled his fingers out, only to replace them with the thick press of his cock, you realized he meant it.

Your body felt like it was floating—weightless, boneless, completely wrecked—and Mydei had only just started.

His fingers left you empty, leaving a desperate ache behind. Your walls fluttered around nothing, your body still twitching from your last orgasm, and yet, when he pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance, another needy whimper slipped from your lips.

“That’s a good girl,” Mydei murmured, his voice smooth, approving. He rolled his hips forward just enough to tease you, letting you feel the impossible stretch that was about to come. “Look at you. So fucked out already, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You could barely process his words, your brain foggy with pleasure, but the feeling of him pushing inside you was all-consuming. He was big—of course he was—and the stretch made your thighs tremble around his waist.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, his voice raspier now, roughened by restraint. “You’re squeezing me so tight. You’re gonna let me fit, aren’t you?”

You gasped, barely nodding, tears welling in your eyes again as he pushed deeper, filling you inch by inch. His cock stretched your pussy open so perfectly, so overwhelmingly, that for a moment, all you could do was clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Mydei whispered, his lips grazing your temple. “Your pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart. You were made to take me.”

A broken moan escaped your lips. The feeling of him stretching you, of him owning the space inside you, made your mind slip further into the haze. You could feel yourself spiraling—thoughts slipping away, leaving nothing but the pleasure, nothing but him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Mydei praised, rolling his hips forward again, sinking deeper. “Give in. Don’t think, just feel.”

Your body obeyed him before your mind could even catch up. Every inch of you belonged to him now—every moan, every twitch, every tear that spilled down your cheek as he finally bottomed out inside you, his cock stretching you to your limit.

“There we go,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you steady. “So full now, huh? Look at you, stuffed so perfectly.”

Your head lolled to the side, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, your body completely limp beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so cute like this,” Mydei murmured, his thumb reaching up to wipe the wetness from your chin, his expression dark with satisfaction. “Already gone for me. Just a dumb little thing, huh?”

You whimpered, nodding weakly, and Mydei smirked.

“Good girl.”

And then he moved.

His first thrust was slow but deep, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, making you sob at the sheer intensity of it. His cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you, the stretch making your walls clench down on him instinctively.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, voice filled with amusement and something darker—something possessive. “Squeezing me so tight, sweetheart. It’s like your body doesn’t want to let me go.”

Your only response was a choked sob, your walls fluttering around him as he dragged his cock out agonizingly slow before sinking back in, deeper this time, hitting a spot that made your vision blur.

“Oh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” Mydei’s voice was velvety smooth, dripping with smug satisfaction. He kept his pace slow, teasing, letting you feel every inch of him as he stretched you open again and again. “You’re already cock-drunk, and I’ve barely even fucked you yet.”

You whined, the pleasure too much and not enough at the same time. Your nails dug into his shoulders, as if holding onto him would keep you grounded, but Mydei wasn’t letting you have control. No—he owned this moment, owned you, and he made sure you felt it.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his thumb brushing away the fresh tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“I—I—” Your words crumbled the second he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt, making you cry out. Your mind was blank, reduced to nothing but the feeling of him—his cock splitting you open, his weight pressing you into the mattress, the rough drag of his breath as he restrained himself from outright ruining you.

“Poor thing,” Mydei cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, his hips meeting yours with a sharp smack. “Too dumb to even talk now?”

Your back arched, a garbled whimper spilling from your lips as pleasure overtook you completely. You felt the wet heat of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, your body limp and pliant beneath him.

Mydei’s golden eyes darkened as he took in the sight. “Look at you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick with approval. His thumb swiped along your lower lip, collecting the slick before pushing it back into your mouth. “Such a mess. So fucking cute when you fall apart for me.”

The sound you made was desperate, wrecked, and Mydei groaned, his control snapping. His pace turned rougher, deeper, hungrier, his hips grinding against yours with each thrust. You felt everything—the stretch, the fullness, the way his cock nudged that perfect spot inside you over and over again, sending waves of heat flooding your veins.

“Mydei—!” His name broke from your lips in a sob as the coil in your stomach tightened, pleasure crashing over you so intensely that your whole body trembled.

“Good girl,” Mydei growled, feeling the way your walls clenched around him, your pussy pulsing as you came hard around his cock. But he didn’t stop. If anything, he sped up.

The overstimulation was immediate, your body shuddering as his fingers found your clit again, circling it with firm, calculated strokes. “One more, sweetheart. I know you can give me one more.”

You shook your head, gasping, tears spilling freely now. “Too—too much—”

Mydei leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he purred, “You can take it.” His voice was commanding, his pace relentless as he fucked you through the aftershocks, dragging out your pleasure until you were babbling, lost in it.

Your body tensed again, that unbearable heat coiling inside you too fast, too much, but Mydei didn’t let up.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his own voice strained, his grip tightening on your hips as his thrusts grew erratic. “Cum for me again, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

You had no choice but to obey. Your second orgasm ripped through you, even stronger than the first, leaving you sobbing in pleasure as your whole body shook beneath him. Your vision blurred, stars dancing behind your eyes, and you barely registered the deep, guttural groan Mydei let out as he finally spilled inside you, his cock pulsing with each wave of his release.

The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the lingering echoes of pleasure still humming between you. Mydei kept himself buried inside you for a moment, his hands smoothing over your trembling body, grounding you as you came back down from the high.

“Shhh,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “You did so good for me, sweetheart.”

You barely had the energy to respond, your body spent, your mind hazy, but the warmth of Mydei’s embrace was enough to lull you into something soft, something safe.

And as he pulled you close, tucking you against his chest, one thing was clear—this wasn’t the last time.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, pressed against Mydei’s chest, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Your skin was warm, oversensitive, and yet you didn’t want to move. His hands, broad and steady, traced slow, soothing circles along your back, grounding you in a way that made your heart ache.

He was still inside you, still sitting so perfectly against you, as if he belonged there. As if you belonged to him.

And maybe you did.

The thought sent a flicker of something nervous through your chest, something that made you hesitate before you spoke, voice hoarse from crying and moaning his name.

“You’re too old for me, Mydei.”

His body went still, just for a second. Then he chuckled, the deep, velvety sound vibrating through your bones. “Oh? That’s what you're thinking about now?”

You felt his smirk before you saw it, the way his lips brushed against your temple, the way his arms tightened around you, as if daring you to pull away.

“Yes,” you huffed, though it was hard to sound serious when your voice was so weak, so utterly spent from everything he’d done to you. “You are.”

Mydei tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. His golden eyes glowed in the dim light, sharp with amusement and something far more dangerous.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb stroking over your kiss-swollen lips, “If I’m too old for you, why are you still lying here, all warm and satisfied in my arms?”

You opened your mouth, but no answer came—not when his fingers slid lower, trailing down your waist, over your hips, reminding you of just how easily he had wrecked you.

His smirk widened. “That’s what I thought.”

You should argue. You should remind him that the age gap was there, undeniable.

But the way he looked at you, the way his hands owned your body, the way he had just pulled you apart and put you back together again—how could you even deny it?

“…Shut up,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

Mydei chuckled again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, his lips trailing lower, teasing.

“Make me, sweetheart.”

And just like that, your exhaustion melted away.

Because you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

And you knew—despite everything—you didn’t want him to be.

You barely had a moment to recover before Mydei moved again, his lips trailing down your jaw, then lower, ghosting over your collarbone with lazy intent. His hands, large and warm, smoothed over your waist before sliding up, cupping your breasts with an appreciative hum.

“You know,” he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, “I’ve been holding back.”

You barely had time to process what he meant before he squeezed, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you whimper. Your whole body twitched, still sensitive from everything he had put you through, but that only seemed to amuse him.

“So fucking perfect,” Mydei groaned, his fingers kneading your soft flesh as his lips followed, trailing wet, hungry kisses down to your chest. “Could touch you for hours and never get tired of this.”

You whined, trying to squirm away, but he just tightened his grip, pressing you further into the bed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly, finally dragging his tongue over your nipple, flicking it before pulling it into his mouth. You gasped, back arching as the heat in your core sparked again, too fast, too soon.

“Too sensitive,” you whimpered, voice barely above a breath.

Mydei just smirked against your skin, pulling away with a wet pop before rolling his tongue over the swollen bud again, teasing. “You can handle it,” he murmured. “You were made to handle me.”

You shuddered as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same slow, thorough attention. His hands squeezed and kneaded, his mouth warm and wet, sucking bruises into the soft flesh, claiming you in a way that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” he growled, pulling back just enough to admire his work—the way your nipples were puffy and wet from his mouth, the way your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath. “So pretty when you’re like this. All needy and soft for me.”

You bit your lip, trying not to let another whimper slip, but Mydei wasn’t having it. His fingers pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making you gasp.

“There she is,” he cooed, pleased. “My pretty little thing.”

You felt lightheaded again, completely at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch like it belonged to him.

And judging by the way he looked at you, eyes dark with hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in another deep, slow kiss—

You had a feeling he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

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[leonsnewadventures]

MYDEI FIC FROM THE ONE AND ONLY PEOPLE

♠ Discipline and defiance

[a/n- for dear sister and hope yall like it]

The first time Mydei caught you skipping class, he didn’t say a word.

He simply crossed his arms, adjusted the thin frame his reading glasses, and stared down at you with that infuriatingly calm expression of his. The student council room was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of the clock ticking away the minutes of your detention.

"You’re wasting your potential," he finally said, setting his clipboard down. "Do you know that?"

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair, arms draped over the backrest like you had no care in the world. "Yeah? And who asked you, class prez?"

His sharp golden eyes didn't waver, even as you tried to act tough. Mydei wasn’t like the other professors or students who wrote you off as just another delinquent. No, he always had that irritating patience, like he was waiting for you to prove him wrong. "You're wasting your time." You say firmly in hopes to shake down the unbearable patience of his and to let him leave your ass alone. "I'll be the one in loss if I waste my time, why do you care if I do so?" You frowned, crossing your arms. "'Cause it's annoying."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table between you two. "Then tell me what isn’t annoying. What would make you want to stay in class?"

You blinked, thrown off by the question. No one had ever asked you that before. You expected a lecture, not an actual conversation. "Dunno. Maybe if it weren’t so damn boring."

Mydei hummed, considering your words. "Then let's make a deal. Show up to class for a week. If it's still unbearable, I'll stop bothering you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "And if I don’t?"

"Then you owe me," he said smoothly, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough. "And trust me, I won’t go easy on you."

You clicked your tongue, annoyed by how easily he turned the situation around. But there was something about his confidence, the way he treated this like a challenge rather than a punishment, that made you hesitate.

"Fine. One week," you muttered, standing up. "But if I hate it, you’re buying me lunch for wasting my time."

He actually chuckled. The sound was light and unexpectedly warm, but the smirk on his face said otherwise: "Deal."

The next day, you begrudgingly showed up to class. Mydei didn’t say a word when you slipped into your seat, only glancing up from his notes long enough to acknowledge your presence. You had expected some smug remark, a knowing smirk, but he acted as if your attendance was the most natural thing in the world. That, somehow, made it even more annoying.

By the third day, you noticed he had switched seats to sit a row ahead of you. Coincidence? Maybe. But whenever you found yourself zoning out, his voice—calm, authoritative—would cut through the classroom noise, answering a professor’s question or making some point that was just interesting enough to keep you from completely checking out.

Damn him. You look down onto the paper you are currently writing on, and the words "Concept of thermodynamics" are written in bold black marker on top of the smooth white paper. The once clean and neat paper was now filled with doodles of silly little things,- cats, ribbons, your favourite characters, your moment of doodling was suddenly interrupted as you felt a cold hand on your right shoulder. Fuck. You internally cuss out as a forced smile appears on your face, your neck looking backward only to see the professor's stoic face with his eyebrows furrowed a bit. He puts the chalk on the table and moves his neck towards the blackboard, signalling you to get down to the damn blackboard in front of 70 fucking students in the lecture hall. "(Name), Explain the Equivalence of Clausius and Kelvin Planck Statements." The stern and rough voice of your 4'11 shortstack teacher left you no room to argue back as you sigh and pick up the white chalk, leaving powder on your scarred and calloused hands. Taking a breath, you roll your shoulders back and let the weight of the question settle in. Then, with steady hands, you start writing.

"The Clausius statement asserts that no process is possible whose sole result is the transfer of heat from a colder body to a hotter body without external work input. On the other hand, the Kelvin-Planck statement declares that no process is possible in which heat is absorbed from a single reservoir and completely converted into work."

You pause for a moment, turning back to the class, your voice level but firm. "Both statements essentially describe the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Their equivalence can be demonstrated by assuming one is violated, which would inevitably lead to the violation of the other."

There is a brief silence, the professor’s expression unreadable as he scrutinizes your work. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he nods. "Correct. Take your seat."

As you walk back, you catch Mydei watching you, one brow slightly raised in what could only be intrigue. You slump back into your chair, your hand going into the right pocket of your pants only to take out a green-apple flavoured lollipop as you unwrap it and place the lollipop in your mouth, pretending not to care, but the slight smirk tugging at your lips and the fuzzy feeling in your chest betrays you. Maybe this class wasn’t as bad as you thought.

The lecture continues, but you can feel the weight of Mydei’s gaze lingering on you longer than usual. When the class finally ends, you’re gathering your things when a voice speaks up beside you.

"You're full of surprises."

You glance up to see Mydei standing next to your desk, arms crossed, an almost amused look in his golden eyes.

You roll your eyes. "What, did you think I was an idiot?"

"No," he replies smoothly. "But I did think you'd try to get out of answering."

You scoff, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "Please. If I actually pay attention, this stuff isn’t hard."

His lips twitch slightly at that, but he doesn’t push further. Instead, he walks with you as you exit the hall, the hum of student chatter filling the air.

"So," he says after a pause, "three more days left in our deal. Think you’ll make it?"

You smirk, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "You’re the one who should be worried, class prez. You might actually have to buy me lunch."

For once, Mydei looks caught off guard. Then, to your surprise, he laughs—low and genuine. "We’ll see about that."

And just like that, the next few days you've been trying to find an excuse to leave class or to just act uninterested. You really do, but it ends up failing,g and hence, it's been a week, and you actually want to keep going in studies. You lost the fucking deal. And Mydei knows it.

He doesn’t say anything immediately, but when Friday afternoon rolls around, you find him waiting by the campus gates, arms crossed, that damn smirk back in place. "So," he drawls, "I believe you owe me."

You groan, running a hand through your hair. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" The next words forcefully rushed out all the breath from your lungs as your (e/c) eyes widened and glimmered like stars "A date. you and me, at the skate park."

[edit- should I write a part 2? and I'm takin requests so dm me if u have any requests :)]

part two- https://www.tumblr.com/devdozes/777254844460351488/discipline-and-defiance-pt-2-an-so-much?source=share make sure to like follow and comment 🤓☝️