#oh my friends; my friends forgive me (post-prank.)

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (1)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, he's extremely rude, like extremely so, prank gone wrong, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, reader faints at the sight of blood, unfunny pranks, Yoongi is jaded, he's a softie once you get to know him, hospital visit, non-descriptive male masterbation, reader has a stutter when nervous, Yoongi just being in denial for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Another old draft I found buried in my Google Docs! I didn't need to change too much, and it's very loosely edited, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. This was rather long (and I don't know why I never posted it), so it had to be split into two parts because of Tumblr's new rules. Thanks for reading!

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Subject: Undergrad Mentoring From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 6:18 AM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,  

I’m forwarding an email from a brilliant undergraduate. Have you thought about mentoring a student? I really think you should.  

— Jin  

---

From: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 2:08 AM   To: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Subject: Undergraduate Research  

Dear Professor Kim,  

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences, majoring in microbiology. I’m incredibly interested in undergraduate research, particularly in your fascinating work on Helicobacter pylori and its connection to stomach cancer.  

Although I don’t have prior research experience, I’m hardworking and responsible, and I would appreciate the chance to join your team. Please let me know if you have space available in your lab.  

Attached are my CV and transcript.  

Thank you!  

Y/N Y/L/N  

---

Dr. Seokjin Kim Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

I stared at Jin's email, the words bouncing around in my head. No previous research experience? Oh great! Just fucking great!

As the clock hit noon, I trudged into the break room, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. It was my little escape, my sanctuary from the suffocating hallways of academia. Hoseok, the only graduate student I considered a friend, was already inhaling his lunch.

I plopped my Tupperware into the microwave, the day’s weight pressing down on me like a thick fog. “Jin wants me to take on an undergrad,��� I grumbled, feeling the words stick in my throat.

“Seriously?” Hoseok asked, mouth half-full. He didn’t even bother to swallow before adding, “Have them do the dishes.”

“Oh man, this is going to suck,” I muttered, stirring my mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a person headed to their execution. “I have to train her, and she has zero lab experience. I don’t have time for this crap.”

The microwave beeped, its harsh sound grating against my nerves. I pulled out my steaming food, the steam rising ominously. “I tried to get out of it, but Jin insisted it’s ‘all part of the training.’” I mimicked his voice, nasal and overdramatic. Hoseok chuckled, nearly choking on his food.

I dug into my lunch, my mind racing. “She’s probably some pre-med trying to pad her CV. Calling our research ‘fascinating’ like she even knows what we do here—just another cookie-cutter student firing off a hundred emails.” 

“Maybe she’s cute?” Hoseok waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. My single status was a constant source of irritation for him. He meant well, but his attempts at matchmaking were like trying to fix a flat tire with a spoon.

“I already did my required TA-ing last year, and it nearly gave me an ulcer. I thought I was done with whiny undergrads! This really sucks!” The words burst out, hot and angry. The idea of babysitting a clueless student gnawed at me like a persistent itch.

I focused on my research, hoping it would be my ticket out of this academic purgatory. Mentoring an undergrad was the last thing I needed—a distraction threatening to derail my meticulously planned escape.

After lunch, I headed to the incubator to check on my cultures, the familiar hum a small comfort amidst the chaos. Then I settled at my desk, drafting a reluctant email to the undergrad, my words dripping with begrudging obligation.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 1:05 PM   To: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Come to the lab on Monday between 8 AM and 7 PM. Bring your schedule.  

Yoongi Min PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

This was going to suck.

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi Min?” A stranger’s voice cut through the quiet of the lab, and I felt my focus waver. I was knee-deep in DNA sequencing data, desperately searching for a start codon when the interruption struck like nails on a chalkboard.

“That’s him over there,” Jimin, my lab mate, replied. I didn’t need to look up; I knew he was pointing at me.

“CTT ATC GTG ACT…” I murmured; eyes glued to the screen. The code demanded my attention.

A shadow crept closer, invading my peripheral vision. I ignored it, hyper-fixated on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” the shadow solidified into the undergrad I’d been dreading. I continued to stare at the screen, unwilling to break my concentration.

“Did you bring your schedule?” My voice was clipped, an attempt to maintain my rhythm.

CGC CTC CGT ATG… There it was! I highlighted the start codon, feeling a small sense of victory amidst the irritation. Finally, I turned to face her. She held a crumpled piece of paper in trembling hands.

The crackling noise of the paper grated on my nerves, and I snatched it from her. A quick scan revealed she had a limited availability. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was.

“Do you want one or two credits?” I asked, filling out her form with practiced efficiency.

“Oh… um… t-two,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh great, a stammerer. I disliked her already. My frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“That’s ten hours a week,” I said, scribbling on the form. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, maybe some Wednesday mornings.” I thrust the completed form back at her and turned back to my computer.

“See you tomorrow,” I dismissed her with a wave, eager to end the interaction. Her stammering was already wearing on my patience.

When I returned from lunch, she was perched at my bench. A laugh escaped me at the sight of her attire.

“What the hell is that?” I pointed at her lab coat, which was covered in hand-drawn bacteria.

She jumped, eyes wide. “My la-la-lab coat?” she stuttered.

Oh great, she’s a fucking idiot.

I took a deep breath, scanning her outfit for safety violations. At least she wore closed shoes and jeans, but her long hair hung loose.

“You should tie your hair up. You’ll be working near the flame.”

She pulled a hairband from her wrist and started tying her hair back. As I walked past, I noticed the back of her lab coat had “Bacteria Rule” scrawled in huge letters.

Bacteria Rule? Is she serious? I wanted to stab my eyes out with the pen in my hand. Who wastes time drawing on a lab coat? Nobody in their right mind, that’s for sure.

Something was off about her—I was certain of it. Concerned about her competence, I decided she couldn’t be trusted with any real work. Instead, I assigned her mundane chores, the kind even a high schooler could handle. It might not have been what Jin envisioned, but it was the only way.

God, I’m already dreading this. Can it be Friday already?

Hoseok and I lounged in the break room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, Tupperwares in our laps. The lack of a proper dining table didn’t bother us; it still beat eating at our desks.

“How’s it going with the undergrad?” Hoseok asked, mouth full.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her,” I said, dead serious.

Hoseok laughed, even though I wasn’t joking.

“All she does is nod at what I say,” I elaborated. “Like one of those bobblehead dolls.” I stretched my neck and bobbed my head for effect. “Except she has bangs flopping all over her face when she nods frantically at everything I say.”

Hoseok snorted but kept eating.

“And she stutters! Well, when she speaks, that is. She doesn’t speak much. I kind of like that about her.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in love, bro.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I shot back, uninterested. I already knew where this was heading.

“Is she cute?” Hoseok asked, glancing at me with a smirk.

“She’s a baby.”

“Is she a cute baby?”

“Hoseok, she’s… she’s a zygote.”

“Well, maybe with this zygote, you’ll learn how to be human again.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly social, bro. All you do is lab stuff and occasionally hang out with me and Serena.”

“What are you talking about? I am social.” My tone came out whiny, betraying my disbelief.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, gesturing to my Tupperware. “So social that you prefer to eat alone in the lab over joining us in the break room?”

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re such a dork. I eat in here because the lab is a mess, not because I’m antisocial.” I shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi,” he laughed, clearly unconvinced.  

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about this right now. Instead, I grabbed my backpack, bracing myself for the next round of research duties.

After a few weeks of working together, I had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that the undergrad was following instructions better than I’d expected. If I could just ignore her ridiculous lab coat and the way those bangs flopped annoyingly over her forehead, she wouldn’t be half bad. The real annoyance, though, was her constant presence invading my space. But honestly, it could be worse; at least she wasn’t stammering nonstop. Most of the time, she barely spoke, and mercifully, she didn’t ask a ton of questions.

As I walked back from lunch with Hoseok, I was surprised to realize I didn’t dread the thought of the undergrad being in the lab when I arrived. Maybe having her shadow me wouldn’t be the end of the world after all.

Of course, the moment that thought crossed my mind, I jinxed myself. Stepping into the lab, I found her cleaning my bench, and a wave of irritation crashed over me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, turning slowly to face me, her gloved hands still gripping an ethanol squeeze bottle. “I-I just thought I’d clean up a bit,” she stammered.

“Did you touch my samples?” I shot back, a surge of panic coursing through me.

“Which samples?” 

“Those!” I pointed at the upside-down tubes that had been perfectly positioned when I left, now carelessly shoved to the side. 

“I-I just mov—”

“Did you touch my RNA samples?” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air—an annoyingly stupid fish. “Do you know how labile RNA is?”

“L-la-labile?” 

“Yes! Unstable—easily degradable. The main point here: you don’t touch my RNA samples!” 

“I-I used gloves… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes. 

If she started crying, I was really going to lose it. 

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm the storm brewing inside me. Slipping on my own gloves, I gently set my samples back in their rightful place, praying I hadn’t lost a week’s worth of work. 

I could hear her sniffling next to me, and I groaned out loud. “Why don’t you and your la-la-lab coat coat go find something useful to do?” 

I listened as she shuffled away, clearly eager to escape my sight. I should have known better than to think this arrangement would work out.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Monday, February 14, 2024, 6:27 AM To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Yoongi,  

Part of the undergrad training involves more than just doing chores. Cleaning dishes, stacking pipette tips, and capping tubes do not count as experiments.  

I expect your undergrad to have enough experimental data to give a presentation at the end of the semester.  

Jin  

What the hell? Did she tell him I’m only having her do chores? 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jin was right, though. All she’d done these past few weeks were chores. Aside from that little incident with my RNA samples, she hadn’t completely messed up yet. Maybe I should cut her some slack and give her a real project. She might learn something—or at the very least, realize how frustrating science could be and decide to give up on it sooner rather than later. 

Oh God, how was she going to give a presentation if she couldn’t even say one coherent sentence without stuttering? 

This would be an embarrassment, not just for her but for me too. If she messed up, she’d make me look bad. 

Decision made. I needed to lighten up a bit and actually try to teach her something.

On Thursday, the undergrad was busy with her chores when I approached her, project sheet in hand. 

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. “What is this?” 

“Your project for the next few weeks.” 

Her face lit up with excitement. 

“You didn’t have to go crying to Jin. I was going to give you a project anyway.” 

Her smile faltered into a frown. “W-What are you talking about?” She gazed up at me, bewildered, but I waved her off, unwilling to explain further. 

“Enough chattering. Those tubes aren’t going to wash themselves.” 

Gotcha, undergrad. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.

It was the first week of real work for the undergrad, and I felt a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. My palms were clammy, and my heart raced uncomfortably. 

Am I excited about this? Nah… I’m probably just hungry.

“Do you know what PCR is?” 

She nodded eagerly, pulling out her notepad, ready to take notes. 

I explained how I wanted her to amplify two toxin genes from a set of H. pylori samples that had just arrived that morning from the hospital. Naturally, I only gave her a small subset of the total samples. It was a manageable number—enough for her to play around with, but not so many that I’d be ready to murder her if she messed up.

As usual, the undergrad took notes on everything I said, jotting down even where I pointed out the locations of various equipment. For all I knew, she was sketching a detailed map of the lab in that notepad of hers.

The undergrad sat at the bench, PCR tubes lined up in front of her, the protocol to her left, pipettes to her right, and a rack of reagents looming in the back. I watched her as she stared at everything, nervously picking at the edges of her gloves. 

She was going to drive me insane. 

“Do you know how to use the pipettes?” 

She looked up at me, shaking her head timidly. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” My voice came out louder than intended, and she flinched. 

We were never going to get anywhere like this. 

I took a deep breath and tried again, grabbing one of the micropipettes. “You set the volume here.” I pointed to the rings. “Clockwise to increase, counterclockwise to decrease.” 

I demonstrated, twisting the rings as I explained the display window and where to discard the disposable tips when she was done. 

After a few trials, the undergrad carefully pipetted into the PCR tubes, preparing the reaction with surprising precision. 

She was focused, making sure not to contaminate anything. It was clear she was paying close attention to every detail. 

Skilled hands, I noted, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

I led the undergrad into the darkroom, where shadows clung to the walls like forgotten secrets, ready to ensnare us. The air was thick with a sharp, chemical tang, buzzing with anticipation as we approached the agarose gel. The PCR products shimmered faintly under the dim light, a hidden treasure waiting to be revealed. Surprisingly, a flicker of excitement sparked within me, a rare departure from my usual brooding.

“The ethidium bromide binds to the DNA,” I explained, my voice echoing softly in the sterile silence. “When we expose it to UV light, it fluoresces an orange color. You’ll see the PCR products light up on the gel.”

She walked beside me, clutching the gel like a sacred relic, her wide eyes absorbing every word. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, likely wishing she had her notepad to document my brilliance, as if capturing my words would somehow validate her existence.

As we stepped into the darkroom, she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights, before gingerly placing the gel inside the UV box. She moved carefully, avoiding the pitfalls of air bubbles that could ruin everything. Either she’d done this before, or she had the sense to read up on it. 

Good. I liked a prepared undergrad.

Once she’d set the gel, I instructed her to turn off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, and I leaned in, my heart racing a little faster. Peering into the UV box, I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, look at that. All your reactions worked.”

“Really?” Her voice trembled from the back, laced with a quiver of hope.

“Yeah,” I called back, though the shadows played tricks on me. “Come closer so you can see.”

I waited, but she lingered in the gloom, frozen as if afraid to approach the light. “Come here, I don’t bite,” I coaxed, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.

Finally, she moved, her profile illuminated under the eerie purple glow. Her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face like dawn piercing through a dark night. I snorted softly, amused by how easily undergrads were impressed.

After she soaked in the spectacle, I showed her how to take a photo of her gel, and we returned to the lab. She began dutifully filling in her lab notebook, and a glimmer of pride swelled within me. That was until I checked her progress later. The notebook was pristine—a meticulous record of her every move since day one. Hope flickered in my chest, only to sputter out when I turned to the last page. There it was, taped prominently: a picture of the gel with “All worked!” scrawled underneath, accompanied by a crude smiley face.

A fucking smiley face.

This undergrad, I thought, definitely had a screw loose.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I glanced down at my sweater, a worn piece of fabric riddled with holes—just like my soul. It was what I had been wearing all day, and it sufficed. 

“It has holes in it.”

“And?” I shot back, genuinely baffled. It was just clothing—a shield against the chill of the world.

“Are you making a fashion statement? You do know grunge was over twenty years ago? I know you live in Seattle and all, but I’m not digging the Kurt Cobain look… at all.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I’m starting to regret bringing you to this.”

“Relax, it’s just beers with Hobi and Serena,” she said, rolling her eyes like I was some petulant child.

I raked a hand through my hair, but it sprang back defiantly, so I slapped on a beanie to cover the chaos.

“You know, Yoongi, it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hair once in a while. How are you going to meet any cute girls?”

Here we go again.

“Yoonji, would you get off my case? I don’t want to meet anybody.” 

Yoonji dropped in at least once a month, a whirlwind of concern and relentless nagging. She never believed me when I claimed to be fine over the phone. 

It was endearing, in a way, but mostly a burden I didn’t need. My family was my anchor, yet their relentless need to take care of me felt like shackles.

“Okay, okay... let’s go then.” 

“It’s just beers, for crying out loud.” 

“I’m telling you to relax.” 

In the car, I felt her eyes boring into me. “It’s just... I worry about you.” She brushed her hand along my arm, and I sighed.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could see the disbelief flickering across her face. “Really. I’m just tired of school. I want to start real life already. I’ll be twenty-six this summer, and I’m still stuck in this academic limbo.”

“Hell, I’m twenty-seven!” Hoseok said when we arrived at the bar, lifting his pint in a mock salute. “And look at all the fuck I give!” He downed it with a flourish.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I shot back.

“Hey,” Serena interjected, her tone warning.

“It’s okay…” Hoseok waved dismissively. “He’s just got a bad case of graduate bitterness.”

Graduate bitterness... yes, that was exactly it. A malaise that settled in my bones like a persistent chill. I glanced around, my throat tightening as if the weight of my uncertainty was squeezing the life out of me.

I led the undergrad through the winding corridors of the building, our footsteps echoing like whispers in the shadows. She walked beside me in near silence, her gaze occasionally darting down to her notepad, scribbling furiously as if the ink might escape her. If only she spent as much time observing her surroundings as she did with her frantic notes, she wouldn’t need them to find her way back to the sequencing facility.

There was something peculiar about her. She avoided meeting my eyes, her demeanor skirting the edges of unease, a deep-seated shyness that pricked at my irritation. And Hoseok thinks I’m the antisocial one!

As we turned a corner, I pondered the unspoken rules of social behavior in the lab when we suddenly bumped into Jungkook Wand, another graduate student known for his knack for lurking around.

“Min,” he greeted, his gaze fixated on my undergrad, likely eyeing her in that ridiculous lab coat that looked like it had seen better days. Why she insisted on wearing that tattered garment was beyond me.

“We missed you at happy hour,” he added, his eyes still glued to her, ignoring me completely.

Every Friday, the department hosted a gathering that, while lame, at least offered beer. Last week, Yoonji was visiting, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into that debacle.

“Yeah, my cousin was in town,” I managed, trying to shake off the feeling of being an afterthought.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he turned his attention to her. I should probably introduce them, but for the life of me, her name eluded me. Panic set in like a cold sweat.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that felt a bit too eager.

Shit. What was her name again?

The girl glanced up at me, and a flash of annoyance crossed her features, as if she could read my mind. “I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with indignation as she extended her hand. The scowl she shot me could peel paint off the walls.

Y/N. The name landed in my mind like a lead weight. How had I forgotten it?

Before I could muster an excuse, Jungkook was launching into conversation, his gaze lingering on her with a familiarity that irked me. I didn’t like Jungkook, nor the way he looked at my undergrad, so I steered her away from him, back toward the safety of the lab.

Now, what was her name again? Damn it.

The following week, I was knee-deep in sequence alignments at my cluttered desk when the fire alarm shrieked, slicing through the stillness like a knife. I turned to find my undergrad, her wide eyes betraying sheer panic. 

She thought it was real. In that moment, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. 

“Run, Becca! Run!” I shouted, leaping from my chair.

“What?” 

The color drained from her face, and I couldn't help but laugh as confusion and fear played out across her features— priceless. I doubled over, laughter bubbling out like soda from a shaken can. 

The alarm blared on, drowning out her startled gasp as she clutched a rack of tubes, trembling. “It’s just a fire drill! Relax!” I finally managed to gasp.

She set the tubes down, took a deep breath, and shot me a glare, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was not funny,” she huffed, her voice laced with indignation. “And my name is Y/N!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me with echoes of my laughter still ringing in my ears. 

Oh, being social was unexpectedly entertaining!

The fire alarms continued to test my patience, ringing again and again. Each time, I chuckled at the memory of her startled expression. Now, standing outside for what felt like the fifth time, I glanced sideways at Y/N, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands shoved into her pockets. 

“Want to grab some coffee?” I asked, feeling an odd urge to make amends.

She blinked at me, surprise flickering across her face as if she couldn’t believe I was actually talking to her.

The cafeteria at the library was our destination, and we walked in silence, the clouds parting for a moment to let in the faintest hint of sunshine. 

As we stood in line, I noticed her tense shoulders. Suddenly, she muttered a string of curses under her breath. Before I could react, her arm was around mine, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

She maintained her smile but released me, stepping in front. “Say something funny,” she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

“What?”

Then she erupted in laughter, leaving me standing there in utter confusion.

She pressed a hand against my chest, and I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. Was this how lab partners acted in her world?

But just as quickly as the laughter came, it faded, and she stepped back, looking sheepish, as if the moment had been a strange dream.

I moved up in line to get my coffee. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, shaking her head. I decided to drop the subject entirely.

As we started heading back, she caught up to me, her expression suddenly earnest. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “There’s this guy, Jonah. He won’t take a hint. I thought if he saw me with someone…”

I tuned out her words, her rhythm a blur as I realized just how bizarre everything was.

Could undergrads get any weirder?

Sitting alone on a bench Wednesday afternoon, I savored the solitude when Jungkook appeared, looming over me like a vulture. 

“Min,” he said, his tone dripping with false familiarity.

I glared at him, not in the mood for whatever nonsense he was about to spill. 

“Where’s that cute little thing you were with?” 

“Who?”

“You know, the one in the colorful lab coat.”

Colorful? I snorted, recalling the eyesore she wore.

“She’s not here,” I replied curtly.

“Got her number?”

“Why would I have her number? And why do you want it?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “You know… you and her…”

I cut him off, anger flaring in my chest. “Me and her what?”

“Is she up for grabs?”

I couldn’t believe he’d come to my lab just to ask about her.

“Jungkook, she’s an undergrad.”

He laughed, completely oblivious. “Dude, have you looked at her? She’s fine.”

“Yeah, and she’s crazy.”

“Even better!” His expression made my stomach churn.

“I don’t have her number, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

With that, I shoved my earbuds in, blocking him out as he stormed off, his words echoing in my mind.

Fucking creep.

Even though it was Friday—one of those days Y/N usually avoided—the lab felt off-kilter, like an old, rickety house holding its breath. She hovered at my desk while I pulled up the sequencing results on my laptop. Last night, I’d sent her a simple email, expecting a casual response. But her reply had come back faster than a ghost in the night. She wanted to see the data today.

As we sat there, the silence between us thickened, almost palpable. Her face was a mask of concentration, but her expressions kept faltering, crumpling like old paper. Not that I cared too much; she had to learn that research was 90% disappointment wrapped in frustration.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness, as if she were mourning a lost hope.

“Maybe you made a mistake?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.

“I was very careful,” she shot back, defensive, her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

How typical. Pre-med students always thought they were immune to failure, that the universe owed them success on a silver platter.

“It happens,” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the tension.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“There's a reason it’s called research. If you only had to do it once, it would be called a search.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“You start over.”

“From the beginning?” Her voice trembled, disbelief flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at her notebook, defeated. Her eyes flitted to the calendar on the wall, and her pencil scratched furiously on the pad. “Can I come tomorrow? I want to have cells growing by Monday.”

Her eagerness surprised me. I added “overachiever” to the growing list of quirks that made Y/N so peculiar.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that.”

“Don’t you have a frat party to attend?” I quipped, but her glare silenced me, a reprimand that cut through the lab's sterile air. “Fine, come tomorrow,” I relented, knowing I’d be here anyway. Weekends in the lab were the best; no distractions, just the hum of machinery and the click of keys.

“Awesomesauce!” she chirped, her smile lighting up the dim room. I rolled my eyes, annoyed yet impressed by her determination. Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took for grad school after all.

Saturdays were sacred—my little slice of peace amid the storm of classes and lab reports. After a killer morning workout, I made my way back to the lab, my damp hair fluttering in the cool breeze. Just as I settled into my zone, my phone buzzed with a message that snapped me back to reality. 

“Mr. Graduate Student, I’m at the front of the building. Y/N.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her cheesy attempt at humor. By the time I reached the entrance, I found her wrestling with her hair, tying it up into a high ponytail that looked like it could give anyone a headache just by looking at it. But when she caught sight of me, her face lit up with a grin that could brighten the cloudiest day.

“Very funny,” I replied dryly as I held the door open for her. “It’s Yoongi, remember?”

As we stepped inside, the silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I considered tossing out a quip about her hairstyle or her lab coat, but then a mischievous prank began to brew in my mind—dark and delightful, like a noxious weed spreading through my thoughts.

“Start your experiment from scratch,” I said, forcing a serious tone. “Could be that my reagents were contaminated.”

Her eyes widened, and I could barely suppress a smirk. It was a complete lie, of course; the old autoclave in the corner was already wheezing like an ancient beast. But picturing her panic was too tempting. 

Settling at my bench, I could barely contain my excitement. But instead of the expected rush of alarm, there was a loud crash—glass shattering like a million tiny dreams—and then silence. 

What the hell was that?

I found her on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that sparkled like lost hopes. The autoclave hissed and wheezed, steam curling around us like a ghost. I rushed to her side, trying to stem the leak with my hands. 

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her. She looked like a wilted flower, her head buried in her knees, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you okay?” I tried again, dread pooling in my stomach as I saw her trembling hands. Her breath came in quick bursts, and my heart raced. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t catch, her palm pressed hard against her leg. “Let me see,” I urged, only to be hit with a wave of horror: a deep gash across her palm, crimson pooling onto the cold tiles.

Oh, no...

Panic surged as I scooped her up, her fragile body slumping against mine. “You’re okay,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. “It’s okay.” 

I hurried her to the sink, the cool water a sharp contrast to the rising heat in the lab. She buried her face in my chest, her panic palpable against my shirt. 

“Is there still blood?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly gone. But we need to get to the ER,” I insisted, urgency tightening my tone.

She groaned, eyes still shut tight, her composure slipping away. 

“Please, open your eyes,” I pleaded, gently lifting her chin. I rubbed my thumb along her cheek, trying to anchor her to reality.

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded weakly, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I swept her back up, panic clawing at my throat. 

What have I done? The air felt thick with dread, and I knew I had to get her out of there. 

I carried her to my car, the world outside fading into a blur, as if the universe was holding its breath. Carefully, I placed her in the passenger seat, her eyes still shut like she was blocking out the horrors around us. I fastened her seatbelt, feeling the weight of the moment. "Please say something," I urged, glancing at her, desperate for any sign of life.

"I hate blood," she mumbled, voice fragile.

Relief washed over me—she was talking. It struck me as strange that a pre-med student would detest blood. "Are you still dizzy?" 

She nodded, and my heart sank at her admission. The crease in her forehead deepened, and I wanted nothing more than to smooth it away.

"We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I promised, focusing on the road ahead.

"Would you distract me, so I don’t think about the blood?" 

"I don’t know how," I admitted sheepishly.

"Say something funny." 

"Funny? Okay. It’s pretty funny that you want to go to med school and you faint at the sight of blood." 

"Who says I'm pre-med?" she shot back, and I blinked in surprise.

"You're not?" 

"No, and that really wasn’t funny. Talking about blood isn’t going to help me forget about it." 

Frustration clawed at me as I struggled for something to say. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Don’t you know any jokes?" There was an edge of frustration in her voice.

"No." 

"Everyone knows at least one joke, Yoongi." The way she said my name sent a jolt through me, tightening my stomach with something close to admiration.

Before I knew it, I blurted out the lamest joke I could remember from college. "Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar," I began, watching her lips twitch upward. "One says, ‘I think I've lost an electron.’ The other asks, ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes. I'm positive.’"

I cringed at how cheesy it was, but when her smile finally broke through, it felt like winning the lottery.

"That was lame," she said, but the glimmer of her smile gave me hope.

At a red light, I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were still closed, but the pale green tint to her skin had faded, replaced by a healthy glow. My heart swelled with relief.

The driver behind me honked impatiently, snapping me back to reality.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, noticing her fingers curling around her injured wrist. 

She nodded, a pout forming on her lips that made my heart ache. I nearly missed a stop sign, cursing under my breath.

"God, I’m such a jerk," I muttered, guilt gnawing at me. I had messed up, all in the name of a stupid joke. I racked my brain for something else to say but came up empty.

"I don’t know any more jokes, but I was good at geeky pickup lines back in college," I offered, desperate to lift her spirits. Her smile returned, lighting up the car.

"This better be good," she warned teasingly.

"If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase, so I could unzip your genes." 

"Oh my God," she snorted, and I laughed, relieved to see her react. "Did you use that on anybody?" 

"Maybe," I hinted, my chest tightening with excitement.

"Did it work?" 

"No," I admitted, but I was laughing now, and she was grinning, even with her eyes still closed. I was determined to keep her smiling. 

"Oh! Do you like The Police?" 

"The police?" She frowned, confusion crossing her features.

"Yeah…" 

"As in the profession?" 

"No, you dork. The band. Sting's band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I guess." She shrugged.

And against my better judgment, I cleared my throat and began singing. "Every bond you break… Every electron you take…"

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, surprise and delight dancing across her face. I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows, and her smile broadened, banishing the shadows of panic. "Oh, can’t you see, you’re covalently bonded to me…" I sang, pouring my energy into the ridiculousness of it. Nothing felt more beautiful than the light in her eyes. 

How had I never noticed how amazing her smile was before?

We pulled into the University’s Medical Center in under ten minutes, just like I expected. I parked quickly and rushed around to help her out, but she stumbled out on her own, nearly losing her balance. I caught her just before she could face plant onto the pavement—or worse, land hard on her injured hand.

I could feel irritation bubbling up inside me. Did she really think I wouldn’t help? Sure, I was an idiot sometimes, but I still had a decent sense of gentlemanly instincts. 

“Can you walk?” I asked, keeping my hand around her elbow as we approached the entrance.

“I think so,” she replied softly, but I kept my grip steady, guiding her into the emergency room. 

Inside, a flicker of relief hit me—the place was nearly empty, and we should get seen fairly quickly. “Hello,” I said to the front desk lady, who was glued to her computer screen. She glanced up, her expression completely bored, and didn’t reply. Instant dislike. 

“She cut her hand, and it looks deep,” I said, gesturing toward Y/N beside me.

“Name?” The front desk lady’s question hung in the air like a sword about to drop, and suddenly, I froze.

Goddammit…

She didn’t mean my name. My stomach twisted as I desperately searched my memory. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten her name again.

It starts with a B, doesn’t it? I racked my brain, stalling as the front desk lady’s eyebrows shot up impatiently.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” came the shaky voice next to me, cutting through my fog of embarrassment.

God, I was such an idiot! I wanted to punch myself for being so careless.

I looked at her—Y/N—and even though she shook her head, a grin crept onto the corner of her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I was forgiven. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I repeated silently, determined that this time I would remember.

I was convinced that the “doctor” tending to Y/N wasn’t a real doctor—not yet, anyway. He claimed the cut wasn’t deep and that it hadn’t damaged any tendons or nerves. He even said it was clean enough to glue shut, which apparently was a thing now. But my gut twisted with doubt; something about him set off alarms in my head.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, clutching my hand like it was a lifeline while this wannabe physician—Doogie Howser, I mentally dubbed him—cleaned her wound. She perched on the examination table, her injured hand resting on a tray beside her, as I stood behind her, anxiety tightening my chest. In the chaos of her injury and my desperate attempts to care for her, her ponytail had loosened, hanging low at the nape of her neck. A sudden curiosity gripped me: What would her hair look like, cascading down like a waterfall?

“Y/N,” I whispered, leaning closer, needing to say her name again, to engrain it into my memory. “Breathe through your mouth. It’ll help.”

I lingered near her neck, unable to pull away, drawn by something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to find the words to describe her scent—something fresh, like the morning air spilling through an open window—but words failed me. I’d caught a hint of it earlier when I held her close at the sink, but now, in the confined space of the ER, it enveloped me, bringing back echoes of happier times.

Y/N smelled good—no, different. Refreshing, like the world waking up after a long sleep. And I was trapped in this moment, lost in the intoxicating blend of her presence and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

Every time she flinched, my instinct was to lash out at Doogie. I wanted to punch him for every wince that slipped from her lips, but I knew that wouldn’t help; it might just make things worse. I fought against the urge to ask the nurse for someone else to help her, terrified to leave her side. So I stayed, fingers entwined with hers, trying to offer some measure of comfort in the storm of uncertainty.

When Doogie finished and began to bandage her hand, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as she released her grip. I stepped back, taking a breath that felt heavy in my chest. Tension still coiled inside me; I hated that she’d gotten hurt, but a part of me marveled at her resilience. Despite her aversion to blood, she had held herself together with a strength I hadn’t given her credit for. There was more to Y/N than I realized, and that realization struck me hard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said once we were back in the car, the weight of guilt pressing down on me.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m such a klutz.” She offered a radiant smile that twisted my insides with guilt all over again.

“So, what happened?” I asked tentatively, hoping against hope that this wasn’t really my fault.

“I was carrying a rack of test tubes when that thing started shooting vapor out. I freaked out. I thought it was going to explode! So I dropped the tubes and cut my hand trying to pick them up,” she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice as she stared down at her hands.

I should have known...

“Shit…” I thumped my head against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Hey, stop.” Her hand reached up to my shoulder, a gentle gesture that only deepened my self-loathing. “You couldn’t possibly have known that thing was going to start leaking, right?” I peeked at her, guilt etched on my face. She scrutinized me, her brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the accusation hanging between us like a thick fog.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I said earnestly, trying to convey the depth of my regret, how much I hated myself for her injury.

“You’re unbelievably cruel!” she shot back, eyebrows knitting together as she glared at me.

She was right, but I felt compelled to explain. “There wasn’t any risk of you getting hurt. The door just leaks a little vapor. I was going to close it after you got scared. It was a stupid joke, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Well, excuse me for ruining your prank,” she snapped, rolling her eyes and turning away from me.

Sarcasm. Just lovely.

“I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her even though she pointedly avoided me.

“Whatever, Yoongi.” She shrugged, irritation radiating from her as she stared out the window.

I wanted to tell her she was acting like a child, but I held my tongue, knowing that teasing her wouldn’t help my case. Instead, I focused on driving, ruminating on how to make this right again.

How the hell do I fix this?

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said to Y/N, trying to sound calm even though a knot twisted in my stomach as I parked in front of the research building.

“This is really not necessary, Yoongi. I’m fine,” she replied, brushing off my concern.

“Y/N, can you please, just for once, not contradict me?” I shot back, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“I never contradict you!” she protested, eyes wide in disbelief.

I fixed her with a glare until the tension between us shifted, and a small smile broke through her pout as I climbed out of the car. Maybe I was getting through to her, even just a little.

I dashed into the lab to grab her bag, but was abruptly halted when I spotted Jimin hunched over her bench. An urge to warn Y/N about the mess brewing in the autoclave room hit me hard. 

“Jimin?” I called, feeling an unusual tension in the air as he turned to me, eyes wide like I’d just spoken an alien dialect. We rarely exchanged more than necessary pleasantries. “There’s a big mess in the autoclave room. I’ll be right back to clean it up.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” he shot back, still looking as confused as a cat in a dog park.

“There’s a bunch of glass… I don’t know. My undergrad—she dropped the tubes. I—” The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Jimin continued to stare at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Never mind,” I muttered, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“How’s that for a change? First, you have her doing your chores, and now you’re cleaning up after her,” he called after me.

I spun around to glare at him, irritation sparking. Sure, he was right, but I had bigger problems than petty lab gossip. I left him behind, shaking off the encounter.

When I climbed back into the car, Y/N was waiting for me, eyebrow raised, holding a CD case. My stomach dropped as I recognized it—my mom’s treasured Carpenters album.

“Really, Yoongi?” she asked, her smile widening. “The Carpenters? Okay, cool.” She casually tucked the CD case back into the glove box.

She was teasing me—smiling at me. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she had forgiven me after all.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her face, how her smile lit up the whole car. It was stunning; how had I never noticed it before? A pang of regret hit me for all the moments I had let slip by.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh, how’s your living situation?” I mumbled as I started the car and drove off, reminding myself to keep it together. She’s just an undergrad, I thought, shaking off the flutter in my stomach.

As I parked in front of her building, my chest tightened again. I was still angry—mostly at myself—for letting her get hurt. I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was safely tucked inside her apartment.

“Are you still dizzy?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

“I think I’m all right now,” she replied, a small grin dancing on her lips.

Would it be weird if I walked her to her door? Did guys still do that? It had been ages since I’d been on a date. What was the protocol these days?

What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t a date.

But she didn’t look a hundred percent. Maybe carrying her bag would help. I climbed out of the car, and she shot me a bewildered look as I opened her door.

“I’ll feel better once I know you’re safe inside,” I insisted, my voice firm.

“I’m fine. You don’t hav—”

“Please, humor me,” I interrupted.

Y/N hesitated, then took my hand as she stumbled out of the car. I grabbed her backpack, and we walked inside together, a strange sense of connection warming the air between us.

At her door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. When she turned to look at me, her brown eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” I said, handing her the bag.

“Yes. Tuesday.” Her gaze flickered up through her long lashes, and I was momentarily mesmerized. “Not Monday.” A playful grin crept across her face, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her eyes crinkling with delight. “You know why not Monday?”

I was still entranced by her smile and completely missed the point she was trying to make. “Because rainy days and Mondays always get me down,” she said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

Great… she’s making fun of me.

I took a deep breath and snorted, forcing myself to look away from her lips. “You’re such a dork, Y/N. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Too long.” Her giggle sent my heart racing, a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

“Good night, Y/N,” I replied, managing a smile despite my racing heart.

As I walked back to my car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and was horrified to find myself grinning like a fool. I frowned and climbed inside, but before I could drive away, I pulled my mom’s CD from the glove box, popped it in, and began to hum along.

Why do birds suddenly appear… every time… you are near?

I slammed on the brakes and hit the eject button.

Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

Thankfully, when I returned to the lab, Jimin was gone. I started cleaning up the autoclave room, picking up shards of glass and mopping away the blood from the floor. As I worked, I spotted Y/N’s lab coat next to the sink, and my heart sank. It didn’t look festive anymore; it resembled a tattered Halloween costume.

Shit… She loved that ridiculous thing, and now it was ruined.

Before I knew it, I found myself washing the lab coat. I tried everything, even bleach. When I was done, the blood stains had vanished, but so had the whimsical bacteria drawings she’d painstakingly decorated it with.

Fuck my life...

When Hoseok called, I told him the chances of me making it to Serena’s party were slim. “I’m stuck in the lab and still have a long way to go,” I said, leaving out the details of my time spent doodling on a lab coat that now looked like a toddler’s art project. I also didn’t mention that I was starting Y/N’s experiment along with my own.

After inspecting the now-ruined lab coat, I realized I couldn’t give it back to her. Tossing it felt wrong, though—I’d just spent hours on the damn thing. So, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it under my desk, trying to forget it existed.

I left the lab after two in the morning, exhausted but restless. My mind buzzed with thoughts, not about experiments this time, but about Y/N—how she had gotten hurt because of me, and yet she hadn’t unleashed her fury. Somehow, she felt bigger than this. Bigger than me.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

Images of her haunted me throughout the night. The way she smiled at my lame jokes, how she laughed at my terrible rendition of “Every Breath You Take.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sung to someone, not since my mom had forced me to sing The Carpenters with her. I turned over in bed, a smile creeping onto my face at the memory.

I didn’t have to be a jerk to Y/N anymore. I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t her fault grad school was a pain. If anything, having her around made it bearable. Maybe I could lighten up a bit… or maybe we could both learn something from this. No, I wanted to be nicer to her. I wanted to see her smile.

I want to make her smile?

First The Carpenters, now this?

When did I turn into such a marshmallow?

Monday night in the dingy gym felt like a scene straight out of a bad movie. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow that did nothing to uplift the atmosphere. Hoseok and I were at the bench press, trading off sets like two battered soldiers in a war that would never be chronicled. I stood behind him, bracing for the weight, but my gaze was pulled away, caught in the orbit of something infinitely more captivating.

There she was—Y/N—effortlessly gliding on the treadmill like she was born to run. Her ponytail swung rhythmically with each stride, a pendulum marking the time as she jogged. My breath hitched, a tightening in my chest as I let my eyes wander down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. And then—oh God—those shorts. Tiny and black, they hugged her body in a way that made my heart race uncontrollably.

The fabric didn’t just cling; it cradled her curves, indenting just enough in the middle to draw the eye downwards. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her skin, my mind spiraling into places I really didn’t want it to go.

“Dude! Hold the bar, would ya?” Hoseok’s voice jolted me from my daze. I blinked hard, shaking off the spell as I refocused on the weights pressing down on him.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, fumbling with the bar as I lifted it off him.

Hoseok wiped the sweat from his brow, the glistening drops catching the unforgiving light. I tried desperately to keep my thoughts in check, to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep onto my face, but my eyes betrayed me, fixating once more on Y/N’s ass as it bounced with every determined step on the treadmill.

“What is it?” Hoseok shot me a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew. Damn him. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Nothing,” I shot back, the word cracking like ice beneath my weight. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling more like a deer caught in headlights than a man. “That’s... um... that’s my undergrad.”

“Your undergrad?” He nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume.

“Shut up!” I hissed, heat creeping up my neck.

“She’s your undergrad?” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial, as if we were discussing some top-secret mission.

“Yes,” I said, willing myself to tear my gaze from Y/N and muster some semblance of composure. “I don’t know why she’s here. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this gym.”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok replied, incredulous. “She’s here all the time! You’ve just never noticed because you’re practically blind.”

My eyes darted back to her. She was still running, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind me. Could Hoseok really be right? Had I been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn’t seen her before?

But then again, I didn’t recognize anyone else in this place. I came here every day—every damn day—and not one face looked familiar. Blind. I was completely blind.

And yet, here I was, rooted to the spot, entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips, the way her legs flexed with each determined stride. It was as if she had cast a spell over me, one I didn’t want to break. But I had to; I was standing there like a moron, the weight of Hoseok’s gaze a smirk stretched across his face as he shifted to take his place on the bench.

“Yoongi!” he called, pulling me from my daydream. “It’s your turn.”

I shook my head as if waking up from a fog and stepped to the bench, but my mind remained tangled in thoughts of what I’d just seen. Y/N’s form, bouncing like it was teasing me, was too much. Too distracting. My body was responding in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and it took every ounce of willpower to focus on lifting weights instead of ogling her.

Then, as if she sensed my eyes on her, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world melted away—the gym, the weight, the noise—all faded into the background as our eyes met. She faltered on the treadmill, her grip tightening on the bars like a lifeline before she recovered just in time.

What was I doing? I didn’t realize I was moving until I stood beside her, the tension thick enough to slice through the air.

“Hi,” I managed, the word slipping out like a confession.

“Hi?” Her smile lit up the stale space between us, brightening everything. “Who are you and what did you do to my bitter grad student?”

“What?” I stammered, disbelief knotting my stomach. “You’ve seen me here before?”

*Her eyes rolled in a way that was both exasperating and endearing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m saying hi now. So, hi.”

“Hi…” she giggled, and I felt a low groan bubble up from my chest. What was happening? I hated how she made me feel, how she toppled everything I thought I had under control.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, grasping for something to anchor myself in this whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s fine,” she said, lifting her bandaged hand like it was a trophy. But I was lost, mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and how the sweat glistened on her skin.

I needed to leave before my body betrayed me further. “Um, I should go,” I interrupted, offering a shaky goodbye as I fled, a whirlwind of confusion and unwanted desire crashing over me.

What the hell was happening to me?

I ran home, my legs pumping, heart racing, trying to outrun the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. It had been four years since Estelle, and the memory felt as distant as a long-forgotten dream. But Y/N was everywhere now, invading my thoughts—her freckles, her laugh, those bangs that had once annoyed me but now framed her face like a masterpiece.

I stormed through my apartment, shedding my sweat-soaked clothes, bewildered by this tempest of feelings. I couldn’t fathom why it had taken me so long to notice her, why she had pierced through the fog of my indifference and settled in my mind like an unwelcome guest.

In the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, soothing yet insufficient to wash away the turmoil. She was a kid, for Christ’s sake! Nineteen? Twenty? Too young, too innocent for someone like me. I banged my head against the tiled wall, cursing my own weakness.

And yet, even as I stood there, I could feel her presence lingering, like a ghost clinging to the edges of my consciousness—a haunting I couldn’t shake. Was I becoming one of those men who pursued young girls, crossing lines drawn in the sand, sliding down that slippery slope of desire? The universe had a wicked sense of humor.

God, I hoped I wouldn’t see her again at the gym. The very thought sent a chill down my spine—a mix of longing and guilt. But there I was, fantasizing about her hands instead of my own.

When did I become such a creep?

I’m in a foul mood. Not a glimmer of sunshine inside me, just the dense fog of irritability that seems to thicken the air around me. Maybe it’s the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders, or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Either way, I know I’ll probably regret having lunch with Hoseok today, but deep down, I’m still holding onto the hope that, by some miracle, he didn’t notice my bizarre behavior at the gym last night.

As I step into the lunchroom, Hoseok’s voice slices through the stillness. “What the heck happened to you yesterday?”

Well, so much for miracles.

“Nothing. Why?” I try to sound casual as I toss my food into the microwave, but my heart races in protest.

“Nothing? You nearly killed me, bolted off to talk to Y/N, and then stormed out. That seems normal to you?” He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

I shrug, feigning indifference, but my stomach twists.

“We were supposed to have drinks with Serena and her friend with the—” he gestures dramatically, “the big personality.”

“Listen, you and Serena need to stop setting me up with her friends.”

“Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“I’m just not in the mood for this today, Hoseok.” I plop down in a chair, my food forgotten.

“Is it because of Y/N?” he asks, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food.

“No,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “And her name is Y/N, by the way.”

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is! You’re totally crushing on her!” Hoseok leaps from his chair, fork aimed at me like a weapon. His eyes widen as if he’s just uncovered a major conspiracy.

“What? NO!”

“Dude, you remembered her name!” He plops back down beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hoseok, what does that—”

“Oh man. This is too good... like, really, really good.” His grin is the kind that makes me want to punch him—or maybe just smack some sense into him.

“Hoseok, please. Just for one day…” I rub my forehead, trying to ease the confusion tightening my temples. The last thing I need is Hoseok’s theories swirling around my mind like a chaotic storm.

“Okay, okay…” He continues to chew, stealing glances at me every few seconds. “So, when’s Yoonji coming?” he asks, smirking, and I shoot him a glare that could curdle milk.

So what if I remembered her name? It hardly means anything. I’ve been working with her for weeks now. I’m not some clueless idiot; I can remember a name. I don’t care what Hoseok or Yoonji think. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does. Because Y/N, not “the girl” or “the undergrad,” is going to be in the lab when I return. And I’m not just aware of it—I’m looking forward to it. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I want to hear her giggle? Jesus, I need to get a grip on myself.

My bad mood evaporates the moment I spot Y/N at my bench, scribbling away in her notepad. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, wild and free. It should bother me—should send alarm bells ringing—but it doesn’t. It looks soft and inviting, and suddenly, all I want is to run my fingers through it.

Okay… I’ve really lost it now.

And just like that, my bad mood crashes back in.

“I can’t find my lab coat,” she says, tying her hair up with an intensity that almost makes me envious.

I feel a spark of irritation at the safety rules that dictate her hair must be tied back. I find myself imagining the kinds of experiments that would allow her to leave it down, just so I could watch it flow freely.

“Do you know where it could be?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I’ve completely lost track of her words, staring at her blankly.

“My lab coat?” she repeats, tilting her head.

Right… the lab coat.

“Let me get you a new one. That one was all covered in blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

“We have lab coats here, Y/N—new ones. I’ll get you one,” I say, moving past her, determination pushing me forward.

She stops me, grabbing my elbow. “Please, can I have my old one back?” Her eyes are wide and earnest, as if I hold the key to some sacred treasure.

A flush of embarrassment rises in me, and instead of confessing, I lie. “I threw it away.”

“What? Why?” Her gaze pierces through my flimsy excuse.

“It was covered in blood!” I bark, frustration bubbling over.

“I could have washed it!” she snaps, defiance igniting her eyes.

“I’m getting you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one. Is this some cruel joke? Because if it is, I’d really, really like my lab coat back. It means a lot to me.” The shift in her expression from anger to sadness tugs at something deep within me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, like I’ve just crushed her puppy.

Realization washes over me like a cold wave: I’m making her cry. With a deep sigh, I relent. “Okay, I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, closing her eyes in relief.

“But… I tried to wash it, and the bloodstains wouldn’t come out. I thought it would be a good idea to use bleach. And it was. I mean, it got rid of the bloodstains, but it also erased your drawings.”

“Oh no…” Her eyes fly open, panic etching her features.

“I’m sorry. Can I please get you a new one?” I plead, hoping to smooth over this disaster before it spirals further.

“I would really prefer to have my old one back,” she insists, crossing her arms defiantly, her gaze unwavering.

Jesus! Why does she have to be so difficult?

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I groan. She’s staring at me like she’s just won the lottery, and I can’t bring myself to back down. “Fine…” I reach under my desk for the bag containing her lab coat and hand it over, feeling like I’m offering her a corpse.

I should have burned the damn thing.

Her gasp as she pulls the coat from the bag makes my stomach drop.

“Oh my gosh!” She turns it around, inspecting the shapes I drew in a moment of misguided creativity. When she spots my pathetic attempt at rewriting “Bacteria Rule” on the back, she giggles, and I swear my heart stumbles.

How do I keep up with her?

One minute, she’s annoyed; the next, she’s crying; now, she’s laughing. It’s like watching a storm change directions on a whim.

“You… did you do this?” She glances up at me, her eyelashes still damp, and my chest tightens painfully.

“Yeah, it looks even more ridiculous now. Didn’t think that was possible. Would you please let me get you a new one?”

“Oh no. I’m wearing this one,” she chirps, slipping her arms into the sleeves like she’s donning a crown.

“Please say you’re kidding.”

“What? It’s perfect!” she beams, buttoning the coat closed, that radiant smile piercing through my irritation.

Even as she parades around in that god-awful coat, all I can think about is pulling her close and kissing her senseless. It’s ridiculous and utterly baffling, but I can’t shake it.

I really must have lost it now.

The morning air felt heavy, thick with a strange malaise that weighed on me like a thick blanket. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Boss?" Y/N chirped, her pen clicking in a cheerful rhythm as she flipped open her notebook, the sound almost irritatingly upbeat.

"Don’t call me Boss," I grumbled, trying to shake off the oppressive darkness that seemed to cling to me like damp fog.

"Okay, Grumpy. What are we doing today?" Her smile was a bright spark against the backdrop of my brooding mood.

I could tell she was trying to be funny, deliberately poking at my irritation. With an exasperated huff, I shoved the list of activities at her. "Try not to mess up this time, Becca."

She took the list with a theatrical pout, and I stifled a real smile beneath my carefully crafted mask of indifference—a skill I'd perfected over the years. 

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the list. "I thought I was starting from scratch."

"You are," I replied, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.

"But you did all these steps already." She pointed to the initial tasks, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I was bored Saturday," I said, as if boredom were an acceptable excuse for taking the initiative.

Her eyes darted between the list and mine, a spark of awe lighting up her face. "You started my experiment for me?"

The way she looked at me made my skin crawl—a mixture of discomfort and something warmer I didn’t want to acknowledge. I clamped down on my tongue, suppressing the urge to explain myself. 

"You better get cracking, Y/L/N. There's a seminar at four I want to attend."

Her gaze lingered on me a moment longer before she shook it off, returning to her notebook. A sense of relief washed over me. 

We worked in silence, but I could feel her stealing glances at me like a kid peeking into a haunted house. I knew—I just knew—I had crossed some invisible line. What I felt was tangled, a confusion I was desperate to untangle.

"What’s the seminar about?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity as we carried bottles of growth media to the incubators.

"I don’t know," I said, holding the door for her as we entered the incubator room.

"Then why are you going?" She squatted to stow the bottles inside, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

"Free food." I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

"Seriously?" She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her features.

"Y/N… if you go to grad school, you’ll learn to appreciate the majesty of free food."

When she stood up, she released my hand with a huff, her pride surfacing. "When I go to grad school, I’ll enjoy the seminars, even without the free food."

"Right…" I turned away, shaking my head.

"So, can I come?" she asked shyly, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the incubators.

"You want to come to the seminar?" I shot her a skeptical glance.

"Hells to the yeah!" 

I suppressed a snort, the surprise of her enthusiasm bubbling up inside me. "Why?"

"I might learn something."

"Okay, you can come, but the la-la-lab coat stays." 

The thought of her actually being excited about attending a seminar with me sent a strange thrill through my chest, one that both excited and unnerved me.

As we made our way to the seminar, Y/N rattled on about her dreams for grad school, her voice bubbling over with energy. I struggled to interject, her words flowing like a vibrant stream, full of life.

When we reached the seminar room, she shook her head at my heaping plate of food. I settled into my seat, grateful for the chance to hide from the annoyed glances of the people behind us. Y/N plopped down beside me, her nervous energy radiating from her.

"That one with the sweater vest is Prof. Waylon," I said, nodding toward him. "He has a serious case of narcolepsy. Snores through the entire talk but wakes up right on cue to ask the hardest questions."

She giggled, and the sound pierced through the fog that had settled around me.

"And over there, with the red bow tie, is Dr. Amun-Kebi. Brilliant but completely bonkers—he discovered Quorum Sensing, yet can’t make eye contact because he’s too busy staring at the ceiling."

She snorted, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth, her joy infectious.

"Then there’s Jin," I continued, "who dresses like he’s going to a board meeting every day. Knows more adjectives than a thesaurus, but his favorite is definitely 'fascinating.'"

I mimicked Jin’s exaggerated tone, and Y/N laughed again, drawing some disapproving throat-clearing from the folks behind us.

"Main point is, Y/N," I said, "science makes you lose your mind. You’ve been warned."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," she replied, winking at me, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

As the speaker began, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed her furiously scribbling notes as if her life depended on it.

Once the seminar ended, we returned to the lab. Y/N still had work to catch up on after being away for an hour. I’d finished my tasks long ago, but I lingered, a shadow in the corner, unwilling to leave her alone in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space.

She closed her notebook with a satisfying smack and turned to me, her eyes bright. "This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see if it works this time."

"Yeah, you’ll get over it," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Have you always been such a grump? Or was there a time when you actually liked what you do?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut, catching me off guard. I could feel her gaze piercing through my defenses.

"I like what I do."

"Do you love it?"

Her question hung in the air like a dark cloud, and I found myself lost in a maze of memories, the joy of discovery overshadowed by the weight of expectations. Had there ever been a time when I shared her enthusiasm?

"I don’t really remember," I mumbled, avoiding the truth. "It’s getting late, Y/N. How are you getting home?"

"I’m walking."

"I’m walking too. Let’s go."

Did I used to love what I did? The memory felt elusive, slipping through my fingers like water.

As we walked, Y/N asked, "Why did you decide to go to grad school?"

"Why does anyone?" I shot back, a cryptic smirk teasing my lips.

"To make a difference? To revolutionize the field?"

"Very cute, Y/N."

"It’s not cute. It’s true."

"Is that why you want to go to grad school?"

"Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people. Since medical school is out of the question for me—"

"You’ll get over the smell of blood, Y/N."

"It’s not just that. I get too attached. I’d rather contribute silently from the lab." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Plus, where would medicine be without science? They’d still be pouring hot oil into wounds!"

I chuckled, a genuine laugh bubbling up like warmth breaking through winter’s chill. "You’re funny." The words slipped out before I could think better of it, and before I could process my thoughts, my fingers brushed against her arm, lingering over the fabric of her hoodie.

She halted, her cheeks tinged pink, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I froze, my hand dropping to my side, panic racing through me. That had to be inappropriate.

"I’ve been called worse," she joked, her smile radiating a warmth that sent shivers down my spine.

We walked on in silence until we reached her building.

"Do you live on campus too?" she asked, fishing for her keys from her bag.

"No. I live in Portage Bay."

"Oh… we passed that already."

"I know."

Suspicion flared in her gaze as she pieced things together, and I felt the weight of my own guilt creeping up on me. She would realize I was that gross old grad student trying to woo the sweet, naive undergrad—the very person I had mocked in others. The thought made my stomach churn.

"I know what you’re doing," she accused, crossing her arms defensively.

Here it comes…

"You feel guilty because I got hurt," she said, her voice steady. "You feel responsible. But you don’t have to do this."

Is that really what she thought?

"You think I’m walking you home out of guilt?" My voice was harsher than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

"I know you are."

"You don’t know anything," I spat, turning away, desperate to escape the rising tide of emotions threatening to drown me.

"Yoongi, wait!" she called after me, dread washing over me.

Keep walking… don’t look back.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was being nice out of guilt. I had done nothing but act like a jerk for too long, and now I was about to lose the only flicker of light stupid, lonely world.

God, she had no clue.

Wednesday morning felt heavy with an unsettling quiet when Y/N arrived at the lab a little earlier than usual. I was already there, lurking like a shadow in the corner, unable to shake off the ghosts of a sleepless night. I busied myself with the equipment, clinging to the hope that keeping my distance would somehow quell the anger simmering beneath my skin.

It was confusing, really. I was furious with her—not just because of the injury that haunted my thoughts like a ghost, but because she had twisted my kindness into something it wasn’t. Sure, I felt like a hollow shell, the guilt gnawing at my insides like a rat in a rotting wall, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy walking her home. Yesterday’s seminar had been a strange kind of fun—the first I’d experienced in what felt like ages.

As I returned to the lab, pretending to check something in my desk drawer, I caught her gaze from across the bench. The way her eyes followed me stirred something deep inside, a mix of frustration and longing I couldn’t quite place. I tried to slip away, but as I turned to leave, her fingers brushed against my elbow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, those puppy-dog eyes piercing through my defenses. Warmth rushed through me, a strange blend of emotions swirling inside. “It was really nice of you to walk with me. Thank you.”

With a timid smile, she released my arm, leaving me reeling, torn between the urge to pull her back and the need to retreat. Just then, I caught sight of Jimin, his piercing blue eyes wide with suspicion from the shadows of the lab. What the hell?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly to Y/N, my voice almost a growl, before storming away, seeking refuge from the chaos in my head.

In the media preparation room, I paced like a caged animal, cracking my knuckles repeatedly to chase away the madness. This was absurd. I was losing it over a girl—an undergrad—who seemed blissfully unaware of the tempest she stirred within me. Deep breaths. Focus. But I knew this strange obsession wasn’t going anywhere.

When I returned to the lab, I found Jungkook leaning casually against my bench, chatting with Y/N. She wore that timid smile again, twisting something inside me. My hands curled into fists, rage and jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin as he sauntered past me. Did he just ask her out? The urge to grab him by the ponytail and shove him to the floor was overwhelming. “What did he want?” I spat, unable to contain the fury boiling within.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, her attention flitting back to her notebook as if she hadn’t just tossed gasoline on my fire.

“Y/N,” I hissed, slicing through the air with my words, demanding her attention. “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,” she clarified, but her eyes locked onto mine, searching. My resolve wavered. What the hell was wrong with me? The desire to pummel Jungkook quickly transformed into an intense longing to press my lips against that bottom lip she kept biting. The confusion swirled around us, thick and suffocating, and I felt trapped.

Just then, Jimin reentered the lab, breaking the spell that had ensnared us. I stepped back, the tension snapping like a brittle twig, and Y/N sighed, disappointment heavy in the air.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice cold, each word laced with the weight of my internal turmoil. “I need to use the bench.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes before she masked it, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. I tried to focus on my work, but her presence lingered, a distraction gnawing at my concentration until she finally left for the day. This is ridiculous! Why did she affect me so much? I couldn’t keep living like this.

Thursday afternoon arrived, and I maneuvered around Y/N like a ghost. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but the thought of her and Jungkook had me seething. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire, irritation coiling tighter with every passing second. I tried to stick to succinct answers and instructions, but the tension thickened around us like fog.

As we received her sequencing results, I could no longer pretend she didn’t exist. She pulled a chair next to me at my desk, her presence suffocatingly close. My fingers twitched on the mouse, nerves sparking as I avoided glancing her way. She tapped her pen rhythmically; each tap a countdown to my sanity.

“Please, stop that,” I groaned, frustration spilling over.

She halted instantly, a sigh escaping her lips, and my heart sank. I hated feeling this way—trapped between annoyance and an attraction that sent shivers down my spine. How was that even possible?

Finally, the software loaded, and I opened her file. Y/N gasped, and I held my breath as she leaned closer, the tension between us palpable.

“Sample 1. Ran well. Sample 2. Ran well… ran well, ran well, ran well…” All fifty samples had run flawlessly. Impressive. I couldn’t recall a time when every single sequencing reaction had succeeded; there was always a failure or two. Y/N was undeniably skilled.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck. Her warmth enveloped me, her hair brushing against my face, and the world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. My body responded in ways I couldn’t understand.

I shot up from my chair, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks a deep crimson, laughter spilling from her lips. “I’m just so happy! They all worked!”

My heart raced, shock coursing through me as I struggled to regain composure. The pull I felt toward her was almost unbearable, thrumming like an electric wire, demanding release.

“Good job,” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady. But as she smiled at me, her joy tearing through my carefully constructed barriers, I knew I was in deep trouble. I wanted to hold her again, to kiss her until the world faded away. God, I needed help.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck, her warmth enveloping me, her hair brushing against my face. The world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating, my body responding in ways I couldn’t understand. 

God, I needed help.

You know those days when nothing seems to go right? When you drag yourself out of bed, and it feels like the universe is playing tricks on you, pushing you back with every step forward? Yeah, today is one of those days. A downright miserable Friday, and I can’t help but feel that the promise of the weekend is just a hollow consolation.

This morning was a disaster. I tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of Y/N. Her smile flickered in my mind like a candle caught in the wind—warm and inviting one moment, then snuffed out the next. The irony is, while I’m relieved I won’t have to face her today, the gnawing uncertainty of whether she’s out with Jungkook weighs heavily in my stomach. Anger simmers beneath my skin, bubbling over in waves I can’t seem to control.

As I step into the lunchroom, the emptiness greets me, broken only by the taunting hum of the microwave. I slam my fist against its cold metal side, frustrated when it refuses to cooperate. It beeps at me, a cruel mockery in the sterile silence. I slam the door shut again, and my temper flares.

“What did the microwave do to you?” A familiar voice cuts through my frustration. It’s Hoseok, ever the jester, his amusement practically radiating off him.

“It’s broken,” I mutter, fingers still mashing buttons like a madman.

“Step away from the microwave,” he orders, a playful yet firm tone in his voice. In two quick moves, he’s heating up my food. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing,” I groan, flopping down in a chair with a defeated sigh. “Just one of those days.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just one of those days…” I can’t muster the energy to say more.

“Like, ‘Everything’s messed up and everyone sucks’?” He turns his baseball cap backward, bobbing his head as if ready to launch into a nu-metal anthem.

“Great, Hoseok. Quote Limp Bizkit. That’s really going to help.” I cut him off before he can get into full swing.

“Dude, you’re in a mood. What happened?” His eyes reflect genuine concern as he rummages through the fridge.

“Nothing,” I insist, rising to retrieve my Tupperware.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for four years. This isn’t just a failed PCR kind of mood.” He crosses his arms, blocking my path.

Part of me wants to spill my guts, but the words feel lodged in my throat. Still, they tumble out. “If I tell you, can you at least try to be mature about it?”

“Mature is my middle name,” he grins, but I can’t help but scowl.

“Fine. It’s Y/N.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of his excitement pressing down on me. “What happened?” he whispers, leaning in, all ears.

“She’s... I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, she’s out with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Hoseok’s voice rises as if he’s just spotted a raccoon in the hall.

“Jesus, Hoseok!” I hiss. “Keep it down!”

“Sorry.” His whisper is tinged with amusement. “Jungkook fucking Jeon?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling over. “And she’s my undergrad.”

“Puh-lease. Who cares?” 

“I’m at least five years older than her,” I retort.

“The younger, the better.” He waggles his eyebrows, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Disgusting.”

“Stop brooding, dude. Jeon’s got nothing on you. Go get your girl. She’s fine, and she was always checking you out at the gym—like I told you a thousand times.”

Y/N checking me out? No way. Hoseok’s just being delusional. I shake my head, dismissing his words. This fixation has to end. She’s just my undergrad. That’s all she’ll ever be—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Happy Hour. The name is ironic, a pathetic excuse for mingling—if you can even call it that. It never lasts an hour, and “happy” is a stretch, but hey, there’s free beer, so here I am. Alone in the corner, I down red cups like they might wash away the grime of the day. By the time Hoseok and Serena finally stroll in, I’ve polished off four.

“You’re here before us. That’s weird,” Serena quips as they approach.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious.” 

“What’s his problem?” Serena glares at Hoseok, arms crossed.

“He’s in a mood,” Hoseok replies, handing me another red cup that I chug.

“Why?” Her tone is whiny, as if I owe her an explanation.

“Lady problems,” Hoseok shoots back before I can stop him.

“Yoongi has lady problems?” Serena sounds incredulous, as if she’s just discovered a new planet.

“I’m standing right here!” My voice is louder than I intended, laced with irritation.

“So you like a girl, Yoongi. Not the end of the world. I mean, this self-imposed celibacy was bound to end someday. I just wish I knew who she is.” She twists the conversation back to herself, as always.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s his undergrad,” Hoseok interjects, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

“You old perv!” Serena playfully smacks my chest, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I’m going to get fired,” I murmur, tipping my cup back for the last drops of liquid courage.

“No, you won’t, drama queen.” She dismisses me with a wave, annoyance radiating off her.

“It happens all the time! PIs hit on post-docs, post-docs on grad students, grads on undergrads. What world do you live in?”

“It’s like a jungle,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Shut up, Hoseok,” Serena snaps. “Good news is, now that there’s this girl, you can stop with the emo bitterness. It’s getting old.”

“Fuck you, Serena.”

“Hey, hey now,” Hoseok says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get another round.”

When we return, my anger toward Serena simmers just beneath the surface, but I’m too tipsy to think straight. “For your information, Serena, this girl has a name. Her name is Becca. No, wait... it’s Y/N! Dammit!” My palm meets my forehead in a facepalm of pure embarrassment.

“Wow. She must be something special, Yoongi. You don’t even know her name.”

“Baby, stop. He’s drunk, and he’s having a shitty day.”

“Why?” 

“Y/N is out with Jungkook,” Hoseok explains.

“Jeon?” Serena’s expression shifts to one of shock, and they dive into speculation, completely oblivious to my presence.

I shut them out, groaning into my cup as I gulp it down. It’s true. I know it. Jungkook is with Y/N tonight, probably taking her to dinner and drinks, sharing laughs while I’m stuck here. My mind spirals into a dark abyss—what if he kisses her? What if she invites him in? God, I’m sick just thinking about it.

Of all the undergrads in this department, Jungkook Jeon had to go after mine. I hope Y/N gets drunk and spills her drink all over him.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

Well, maybe not the worst, but it’s definitely up there. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my stomach feels like a chaotic whirlpool of regret as I stumble into the shower. The hot water cascades over me, a fleeting relief, but all I can think about is how tempting sleep sounds right now. But I have things to do in the lab. Don’t I always?

The apartment is a total disaster zone—a messy tribute to last night’s antics. Red cups are scattered across the coffee table like the remnants of a forgotten battle, and chip crumbs litter the floor like confetti from a party that had long overstayed its welcome. Hoseok and Serena wouldn’t leave me alone last night, terrified I’d do something reckless, so we ended up bringing Happy Hour back to my place. I was just the third wheel, watching them get lost in their own world of laughter and flirting. By the time I woke up on the couch, blanketed by a pile of crumpled chips, they were long gone.

I shuffle into the library, desperate for my usual caffeine fix on the way to the lab, but my stomach is rebelling. Still, I know I’ll need that coffee to survive the day.

Inside, the library feels like a claustrophobic hive of undergrads buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees. It’s overwhelming.

What a nightmare!

I hurry to the coffee line, pouring sugar into my mug like it’s a lifeline. Just as I catch my breath, I spot her—Y/N—sitting at a table surrounded by a fortress of books. Her hair falls like a curtain, hiding her face from view. I can’t help myself; I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

“Hello, Y/N,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her features, and for a moment, my heart races. 

“Oh, so I’m back to being Y/N?” There’s no hint of humor in her voice, only seriousness, and it feels like a punch to the gut.

What’s going on? Where’s the smile that usually lights up her face?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light as I settle in.

“What are you doing here?” she replies, her gaze cool and collected.

“Y/N, please go easy on me today. I’m not feeling great,” I admit, running a hand down my face, feeling every ache from the night before.

“Oh... what’s wrong?” Her stoic facade starts to crumble, replaced by genuine concern, and it warms me a bit.

“Too much beer,” I confess, and the word makes my stomach churn at the memory of my poor choices.

“I see... does that explain this?” She pulls out her phone and turns it toward me.

Grumpy: Becca, you’ve just revealed yourself to have absolutely no taste.

“Who the hell is Grumpy, and why does he call you Becca?” I blurt out, anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re the only Grumpy I know.”

“Are you saying I sent you that text?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing as her eyes drift away like leaves in the wind.

I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart sinking as I check my sent texts.

Well, great…

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes, wishing I could take back last night’s mistakes.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean either. No taste in what? Music? Food? Men?” 

“Men?” I let out a dry laugh. “Jungkook is not a man. He’s a tool.”

“So this is about Jungkook?” she says, gesturing to her phone.

“Yes.” My brain feels sluggish, like I’m moving through molasses.

“Why do you care?” 

“I’m uncomfortable with you dating my classmate,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to appear nonchalant.

“He’s not your classmate, and we’re not dating.”

“We both started our PhDs at the same time in the same program. That makes him my classmate… Wait… you’re not dating?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We went out for coffee, talked, he asked me out again, and I kindly declined. I’m focused on my studies right now, Yoongi, and I really don’t have room for anything more.”

“Oh…” Relief floods through me, even as my hangover rages on. I might even be smiling.

“Yes, oh indeed. Which brings me back to why you’re sitting here distracting me from my study session.”

“What are you studying?” I ask softly, a smile creeping onto my face, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jungkook.

“I have an organic chemistry exam on Monday.”

“Oh, I see…” I hesitate, but the temptation of spending time with her outweighs my growing pile of work in the lab. “Well, it might just be your lucky day, Y/L/N, because I happen to be an expert in all things organic chemistry.”

“You are?” Her lips curl into a small grin, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. She’s back.

“I am…” I smile at her. “So, do you want some help?”

“I could use some help.”

Help… yeah… that’s what I’m here for… help.

For the next two hours, I guide Y/N through her organic reaction problem sets, all while ignoring my cooling coffee. She’s a quick study, soaking up the information, and I’m confident she’ll ace her test on Monday.

I keep my hands clasped between my knees—except when I need to draw reactions for her—wanting to hide how my fingers twitch every time she brushes her hair behind her ear.

Y/N is focused on her notebook, but the third time I yawn, she looks up at me.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Tell me about it… On average, I get about four hours a night.”

“Four hours? If I don’t get at least six, I get grumpy.”

“Grumpier than this?” she says, waving a hand at me, a smile teasing at her lips.

“This,” I gesture to my chest, “this is the five-hours-of-sleep me.” I stretch, feeling my muscles pull, and I notice her eyes trace down my torso before I quickly pull my shirt down.

Was Y/N checking me out?

“Anyway…” I scramble for a distraction. “It’s healthy to sleep eight hours. I’m all about being healthy.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an old man.”

“Hey… I’m only twenty-five!”

She laughs, and before I can ask how old she is, her gaze shifts behind me, and I can sense her tension.

“Shit…” she whispers.

“What?”

“Remember that guy I told you about, Jonah Rodgers, the stalker?” Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with panic.

I wrack my brain, trying to recall. Y/N had a stalker? She looks at me, and it’s clear she knows I’m lost.

“Just play along, please,” she whispers, scooting her chair closer to me. Her hand brushes my knee, and I’m startled by the tentative touch.

A vague memory flickers in my mind—her acting strange around me one day, but it’s obscured by the haze of regret and longing.

Y/N’s gaze is intense, making it hard to focus on anything else. She smiles shyly, then looks down before peeking at me through her thick lashes.

God, what is she doing to me?

I know she’s faking it, pretending for someone else—but I can’t help how my body reacts, how hyper-aware I am of her presence. My hand moves to her cheek, my thumb tracing her soft skin. She blushes, biting her lip, and it sends a jolt through me, a deep ache to pull her closer—bring her lips to mine.

Her hand slides from my knee, brushing my thigh, and I can feel a warmth stirring inside me.

This isn’t real… it can’t be.

She’s still staring at me, and I’m lost in her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking, if she feels it too.

But then, all too soon, her attention darts behind me again.

“He’s gone,” she breathes, relief washing over her. Her hand rubs my thigh one last time before she withdraws. “Thank you.”

I know I should let go, but I can’t. My hand remains on her face, my thumb tracing her cheek while my fingers tangle in the nape of her neck. Her expression shifts, confusion knitting her brow. She reaches for my hand, her fingers enveloping my wrist—her thumb brushing the top of my hand, once, twice—and then she smiles.

But she’s not looking at me seductively anymore. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand why I haven’t let go. And honestly? Neither do I.

I drop my hand from her face and stand abruptly.

“I better get to the lab,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Good luck on your test.” Her eyes linger on me, confusion clouding her expression as I turn to leave.

I guess the show is over…

I spent the rest of the weekend in the lab, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It felt easier to throw myself into my work than to face the nagging thoughts of Y/N swirling around in my head. Pining after her felt wrong—she was just a kid, my intern, and whatever was brewing inside me needed to stop. I had to keep my distance.

When Y/N walked in on Tuesday, she looked a bit worn out. I wanted to ask her about the test, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself to act indifferent.

As the day wound down, she asked for my help, and I followed her into the dark room. She needed to cut different bands from an agarose gel to purify the DNA. Even though she knew how to use the UV light box, I guided her through the excising process.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Y/N flipped on the UV box and switched off the lights. I stood behind her, watching as her shaky hand hovered nervously over the gel, clutching the blade. 

"I think it’s safe to say that not going to medical school was the right choice for you," I teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension. "With those shaky hands, I wouldn't want you holding a scalpel near me."

"I had too much coffee today," she shot back, her tone sharp but playful.

"Right," I snorted, a grin breaking free.

"Shut up. You're making me nervous." I could almost hear her smile through her words.

"Here," I said, inching closer. I covered her hand with mine, steadying her fingers over the blade. "Relax," I suggested, hoping it would ease both our nerves.

Her proximity felt electric, as if the air around us vibrated with tension. The scent of her hair—fresh and unplaceable—danced under my nose, making my heart race. Y/N's hand trembled beneath mine as she turned to glance up at me. In the faint blue glow of the UV light, her features looked even more striking. 

"This is making it worse," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt her warm breath against my neck, and everything inside me screamed that we were too close. I should step back. I needed to step back. But God, I wanted to kiss her. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her bewildered expression shifted as her eyes drifted from my gaze to my lips. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her tongue trace the edge of her bottom lip before she began to nibble on it nervously.

Then, without thinking, I closed the distance and pressed my lips against hers.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, intoxicated by her sweet scent as my mouth enveloped her bottom lip. Y/N whimpered softly against me, turning her body to face mine. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

What was I doing?

I felt lost, unsure of how to proceed or how to stop. Reluctantly, I released her neck and gripped the bench for support, struggling against the rising tide of desire. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and pull her onto the counter, to lose myself in her warmth.

No, stop! This is wrong!

I broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Y/N…" I gasped. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I stepped back, needing space. She was breathing hard too. "I-I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have… Shit." My hands raked through my hair, searching for words that eluded me.

Then, with a single determined step, Y/N closed the distance. She grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down to her level. Her lips collided with mine once more, and I felt her inhale sharply.

I was too tall, or she was too short; either way, I hunched over her as her legs wrapped around my hips, lifting her onto the countertop beside the UV box.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging in a way that made me groan into her mouth, while my own hands hovered uncertainly over her body, torn between desire and restraint.

Loud, insistent knocking on the door shattered the moment.

Y/N gasped, and her legs slipped from my sides. 

"I need to look at a gel, Yoongi. What’s taking so long?" Jimin's voice rang out.

Jimin… shit…

I groaned against Y/N's shoulder, gripping her thighs to steady myself. Her fingers remained tangled in my hair, and I felt dangerously close to losing it.

"We're cutting a gel, Jimin," I called out, taking a reluctant step away from Y/N. "Give me a fucking break," I muttered under my breath.

I heard Jimin huff through the door, and Y/N’s voice came low and tense. "What do we do?"

I didn't know about her, but I needed to get out of there. I was uncomfortable and desperately needed to regain control. I moved to the UV box, which was still glowing. Y/N jumped down from the bench as I grabbed the blade, cutting around the bands on the gel. I found it ironic that my hands were now shaking, yet I managed to do a decent job.

Once finished, I shut off the UV light and flicked the room lights back on. Y/N jumped a little, and though I was sure she was staring at me, I couldn’t meet her gaze—I wouldn’t.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Take each piece of gel and put it in a single epi tube," I instructed, forcing myself to focus on anything but her. "You can follow the rest of the protocol at the bench."

"Yoongi," she whispered, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll be back in a bit," I said, my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t risk a glance at her, fearing that a single look would draw me back in. I opened the door and stormed out, nearly colliding with Jimin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

What the hell just happened?

A few moments later, I was outside the building. Rain hammered down, but I didn’t care. I wished I smoked, drank, or had any vice to help me calm down. I tried deep breaths to steady myself, but the rain only added to the chaos swirling inside me. I made it to the tree line behind the parking lot, leaning against a trunk with one hand while the other pressed against my chest, where my heart threatened to pound its way out. I was panting, sweating, and completely unraveling.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Well, clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

God, I could still taste her on my lips.

I swallowed hard.

Y/N had the sweetest lips I’d ever kissed.

I was doomed.

This could ruin everything. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by Y/N like this. I had lost all control, and I didn’t know what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t knocked. Or worse, what if Y/N had opened the door without knocking? Thank God the light was off, and the “IN USE” sign was outside.

No one could know about this, especially not Jimin—he was Jin’s puppy! If Jin ever found out…

God, this was all so messed up!

I had to make it clear to Y/N—this had to stay between us. We had to pretend it never happened.

It would never happen again.

I could never have my lips on hers again—just the thought of it made my chest ache.

I had known kissing her would be good. She had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen. They didn’t disappoint. Her kiss exceeded any expectation I had dared to dream. How could I endure not kissing her again, knowing how sweet she tasted?

If I thought it was torture to be around her before, now it was going to be hell.

And she had kissed me back. She had. It wasn’t just me. She wanted this too. Didn’t she know it was wrong? I needed to talk to her, to explain that this couldn’t happen again. We had to keep things professional, to work together without awkwardness. We had to manage that. I needed to manage that.

I wouldn’t look at her lips, or her smile, if that’s what it took. Maybe I could lie and say we needed to wear mouth masks for the rest of the project…

With a groan, I stepped away from the tree. I fisted my hair, realizing I was getting drenched, and walked back into the building. I shook my head to rid myself of some of the water, but I was still soaked when I climbed the stairs.

When I entered the lab, Y/N pretended not to see me, but I knew better. Her posture shifted, her back straightened, and the foot she had been tapping on the floor stilled.

I noticed Jimin was in the lab, standing at his bench across from Y/N, staring at her. It became clear to me that Y/N was putting on a show for him.

I sighed, feeling a little relief wash over me.

Y/N wouldn’t tell anyone—at least that much was clear.

But I still needed to talk to her. What happened was wrong and completely inappropriate. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea.

I buried myself in my computer for a while, pretending to work by aimlessly scrolling and clicking, but my attention was entirely on Y/N. She seemed to move through the purification protocol without a hitch. What was going through her head?

Y/N strolled into the lab on Thursday, her smile cutting through the sterile, fluorescent gloom like a ray of sunlight. I gave her a nod—polite, detached—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing at the flicker of warmth in her gaze. As I turned back to my work, she let out a sigh that lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing at Jimin's empty bench, and the reminder of his absence hung like a storm cloud between us. 

"Okay," she began, hands planted defiantly on her hips. "Should we talk about this?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, focusing on those deep, captivating eyes while battling the temptation to let my gaze wander to her lips, which seemed to whisper promises that drove me mad with longing. 

"There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N."

"Well, are you going to go back to being mean to me?" 

"I was never mean to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and heat crept into my cheeks as I remembered all the stunts I’d pulled—the pranks that had hurt her, the lab coat I’d ruined...

"I won't be mean to you again," I muttered, letting out a heavy sigh and looking at the floor.

"Yoongi..." Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and it tugged at my heart. 

When I met her gaze again, it was a mistake—her lip caught between her teeth was a distraction I didn’t need. My hands clenched into fists, seeking refuge in my pockets as her eyes searched mine, wary but hopeful, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It won't be awkward, all right? I promise."

That smile of hers struck me like a bolt of lightning, forcing a groan deep within my chest. I could see the words dancing on her lips, ready to spill out, but they vanished like smoke when Jimin walked back into the lab. Taking advantage of the reprieve, I buried myself in my work, fighting to act normal.

But normalcy felt like a distant memory whenever Y/N was near. She moved through the lab with quiet grace, while I stood like a rock in a river of uncertainty, drowning in my thoughts.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, I noticed her gathering her things. Instinct kicked in—I pretended to be engrossed in my computer, watching her shuffle and fidget until she finally took a step toward me.

"Hey, Yoongi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" I turned to face her, masking the turmoil inside.

"Um, I was wondering... I know I’m just an undergrad here, and there’s really no room for me to... I-I mean, I know it’s really not my place to ask, but..." Her words faltered, and the crimson blush creeping up her cheeks sent my heart racing.

"Y/N, would you get on with it? I don’t have all day." My frustration boiled over, the energy it took to be normal around her fraying my patience.

Her frown was instant, a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes. 

Shit, that was uncalled for...

"Never mind…" she sighed, disappointment echoing in the air.

"Wait." I took a breath, willing myself to soften. "I’m sorry. Please, Y/N, tell me."

She sighed again, a deep, resigned breath. "I know there’s that recruitment party this Saturday. It’s for prospective students to meet the current students in the department. And I know, I’m just the undergrad, but I think it would be great if I could meet them. You know? Hopefully, in a year, I’ll be going through recruitment myself." Her fingers twisted anxiously in front of her, a sight that both amused and strained my patience.

"Is there a question you wanted to ask?" I barked, the irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Yes…" she snapped back, indignation rising. "My question is: do you mind if I’m there?" She crossed her arms, defiance written all over her.

Why would I care if she came? I hadn’t even planned on attending that stupid party. But suddenly, the thought twisted in my gut, a knot tightening as a realization hit me.

I shot up from my chair, startling her. "Who told you about the party?"

Her eyes dropped, a sigh escaping her lips, and just like that, the truth hit me like a freight train. I fucking knew it.

"You’re going with Jungkook, aren’t you?" I took a step closer, looming over her.

"No, I’m not going with Jungkook." Her voice was steady, but her gaze flickered to meet mine. "But I’m going."

"Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile that graced her lips made my stomach twist. She turned to leave, and I felt something unravel within me—my hands instinctively reached out, fingers curling into frustrated fists. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle her or pull her into a desperate embrace. All I knew was that I was left staring helplessly as she walked away.

I didn’t need her to say it; I knew Jungkook was behind this. She might not be going with him, but the thought of him lurking at that party made my blood boil. For the first time in a long while, I felt the gnawing sensation of jealousy eat away at my insides.

Fucking Jungkook Jeon.

I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.

Why did it matter if Y/N went to the recruitment party? It shouldn’t. Yet here I was, battling an angry tide rising in my chest, all because of that idiot Jungkook. If she were going with someone more acceptable—someone who didn’t make my skin crawl—I’d be okay with it. I should be okay with it. The rational part of my brain knew that, but the irritation overshadowed everything else.

What did she even see in Jungkook? The guy barely scraped by on his Qual after taking it twice and hadn’t published a single paper. He was working with fruit flies for crying out loud! And his personality? A brick wall. I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him.

I had to go to this party.

At lunch, against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up with Hoseok. 

"Hey, where’s the recruitment party this year?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I stabbed my fork into the mac and cheese.

"You’re going to the recruitment party?" Hoseok dropped his fork, suspicion etched across his face like a roadmap to his thoughts.

"Yes," I groaned, already regretting bringing it up. Of course, he’d make a fuss.

"To our department’s recruitment party?" He pressed a finger to his chest as if I’d committed a heinous crime.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged, pushing the macaroni around in my bowl.

"Let me think… maybe because I’ve organized every single one since I got here, and you’ve never attended."

"Will you just answer my question?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"It’s at the South Campus Center, bro." Even though he finally answered, his gaze lingered, scrutinizing me like I was a specimen under his microscope.

"Great, thanks." I tried to keep my tone light, rolling my eyes at his obvious scrutiny.

"I can’t believe you’re going." A knowing smile danced at the corners of his lips, and I loathed it.

I pretended not to care, shrugging off the comment as he took a seat next to me. 

"If only I had known all it would take was an undergrad to get through you."

"This has nothing to do with Y/N," I spat, defensiveness creeping in, my irritation sharpening with each word. Her name was Y/N, not ‘the undergrad.’

"Right, so it’s just a coincidence… this is just the year you happen to decide to attend this thing."

"Yes."

"Is she going?" His eyebrow arched, mischief glinting in his eyes.

I groaned and turned away, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

"Dude, I can see it. How she’s affected you. It’s kind of obvious. You can talk to me, you know? It might help."

The breath I took was deep and shaky, every nerve ending igniting with frustration. But before I could stop myself, the words came pouring out. "She drives me crazy, Hoseok. I can’t stand it. I lose all control when I’m around her. I kissed her… I kissed her, and she said she doesn’t want to jeopardize her work in the lab. And it makes sense for her to think that. But the worst part is now I can’t stop seeing her everywhere. She’s in the lab, at the gym, at the freaking library where I get my coffee—she’s everywhere! I need to go back to not seeing her, because I can’t handle this." I stared down at my lunch, the food suddenly unappetizing, a lifeless pile of carbs.

"So you don’t want to see her?" Hoseok asked, surprisingly calm, like he was dissecting a specimen on his lab bench.

"Exactly."

"You don’t want to kiss her again?" He pushed, an amused grin creeping across his face.

"I don’t know what I want!" I barked, irritation flaring.

"Sounds to me like you want to go to the party, see her, and kiss her again. The question is, how are you going to deal with Jungkook?"

My shoulders tightened at the mention of his name, a cold shiver running down my spine. "I don’t care about him."

"I don’t know, man. It’s weird. The vibes are strange. You’re talking about her with a lot of… emotion."

"Emotion?" I snapped, but deep down, I felt the truth behind his words. I was at the mercy of my own feelings, a trembling wreck in the face of Y/N’s smile. I hated it. I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t afford to feel anything.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back into my chair, wishing to be swallowed by it.

"You’re going to have to confront those feelings eventually, Yoongi."

I grunted in response, refusing to admit he was right. I didn’t want to think about Y/N, and I definitely didn’t want to deal with Jungkook. All I wanted was to escape this mess, but deep down, I knew I was already trapped.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! male! childhood friend x gn! unrequited crush! reader

So I decided to further slow down my posts since things got busy and I had no time nor motivation. So, posts will now just depend if I have some ideas. Forgive me!. But also, i'll add a wider range of post styles since full fics are really long and hard to do sometimes.

Also, I take the sentiment back that I won't do new yans for now LMAO I can't resist it.

Yan! Childhood friend name: Minyu

"Minyu is at the lead now, as expected of the swim varsity president of XX university."

That's the voice of the emcee, their voice loud and clear amongst the loud crowd cheering for their contestants. But one person stood out on the pool. He's way ahead of his other competitors, swimming as if he's a natural born sea resident.

"AND MINYU OF XX UNIVERSITY GOT FIRST PLACE!"

Everyone's deafening cheer raised the roof of the indoor pool as a tan man got up from the pool pumping his fist. His eyes were trying to find somebody. And his eyes locked on you.

"Y/N! DID YOU SEE HOW I WON?! ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?!"

Minyu is bubbly, friendly, and really loud. His voice is sometimes as loud as a booming speaker that the professors never really liked. But people swear he's a good guy.

He's mischievous at times, and did plenty of harmless pranks on you when you both were children.

You both are neighbors since birth. And due to being neighbors, and Minyu being a naturally friendly and charismatic boy, you two became friends.

"Good for you, Min Min. Let's go celebrate?" You asked, handing him his towel as he wiped his wet hair with it.

"Sure! My treat."

Sure, he's friendly, but in reality, he's one hell of a plastic man. He's only being friendly and approachable to use tthese people in the future. It did have setbacks, but hey. Being a popular guy has its perks.

Unlike yandere! college student though, he never found being friendly a choir to do. Minyu finds it amusing to see these people scramble to get his attention, and be his friend.

It's like these people were lower than him.

Why?

He's been betrayed once by his "friends". And ever since then, he stopped being genuine with other people. Always suspecting them for wanting something from him.

But you were different. You were the only one who was genuine with him despite the regular banters the both of you have. That's why you're the only one who knows how plastic the dude is with others. You somehow feel flattered though. At the very least, right?

You don't know the story behind the betrayal. But you saw how down he was due to it so you never left his side. And because of that, he became attached to you.

"Oh, what did I do to deserve such a friend like you?"

That's what he always asked you while hugging you tightly.

When people asked what's your relationship with him, you were quick to deny it. You both were only friends, and nothing more.

And besides...

You froze, seeing your crush pass by the hallway.

As if on cue, your cheeks flushed red and looked down. Goodness, why did he have to pass by this specific hallway? And with Minyu too.

You unconsciously put space between you and Minyu. The rumors about you two dating ringing in your head. You wanted to make it seem that you're available.

But what you didn't see is Minyu's once lively face fall to a cold, blank stare at your back, and at your crush.

"What do they see in that fucker that they don't see in me?!"

A crash was heard in a bedroom. The whole house was quiet, and all one could hear are disgruntled yells of frustrations and desperation.

"What do I need to do to make you notice me?!"

Another crash, this time it was glass.

"Is it because we were friends since childhood?! Is that it?!"

Minyu slid down the wall, absolutely shaken up.

He hated Austin so much.

The perfect little bitch boy, Austin. Your crush. He was so bland! And guess what, he's a total heartbreaker! Well, that's what the rumors tell anyways.

He's a heartthrob that you unfortunately fell for also.

Minyu's pupil shook as he took another gulp of air. The sense of dread and panic settling in his stomach.

He's like this outside of other people's vision. Even yours.

He's an insecure man who can't stand it if you decide to betray him too. Too caught up in the past, he's shaken up at the thought of you leaving him.

Your picture caught his eyes, and he fought back an angry spittle of words gurgling in his throat.

He knew it wasn't your fault. People fall for people regardless of logic.

But why not him? He's there for you since you both were kids! You were there for him when his friends betrayed him. He did his best to flirt and put signals that he's in love with you. He took up swimming because he wanted to look cool in front of you.

But just like the tropes in the books you read, the childhood friend always got overlooked.

He let out a humorless laugh at that thought. The image of you with Austin made him grab his lamp and throw it to the wall.

He knew his issues. But he doesn't want to help himself.

His ear perked up when he heard a ping on his phone. With a shaky groan, he crawled towards his bed, avoiding the broken items and opening up the notification.

He froze, his body clamming up.

"The audacity of this goddamn--!"

One of his ex friends decided to transfer to his school.

Or should he say, ex crush?

He had a group of friend outside of you back in freshmen year of highschool. There were 5 of them, including Minyu. One of them was a long time crush since elementary, and he was so giddy to become their friend.

Goo goo eyed, he followed them everywhere. He felt like the cool guy hanging out with the popular crowd. He swore they liked him too.

Naive little boy he was, doing all their bidding and orders like it wasn't a big deal. Sure, Minyu was rich anyways. So money wasn't a problem. Was it?

His parents noticed how he's spending so much money in a short amount of time. They got into a fight because of it, and Minyu ended up talking back to them and him having his allowance cut off.

The first time he had to reject a... request, Faces immediately fell and their interest in Minyu also fell.

"It's fine. Hey, that karaoke bar opened right?"

"Let's go~!"

Minyu perked up.

"I'll go with you guys too!"

They raised their eyebrows almost immediately.

"Ah, sorry Minyu. But the car is already full. Maybe next time."

This continued to happen. Being snubbed like some dirt on the road. And what hurts the most, is that his crush, who he showered so much gifts with, lost interest in him also.

This was an abusive cycle he was in, until he was finally dropped by them halfway to the school year when Minyu didn't get anything expensive for his crush, and only gifted her an explosion box filled with creative ways to confess.

"Ew. I don't even like you. You're so... Ugh. Don't talk to me ever again."

That experience snuffed out his light, Especially when they decided to rub it in further by spreading how Minyu was only with them for his crush, and failed to get her. Spreading lies too, saying he was an asshole, and he's the one who kept demanding gifts.

Sure, majority didn't believe them, but he was so scarred by it due to the humiliation and betrayal he felt.

So, he fell back and only relied on you. Somebody who he knew would always be there for him.

Now that she's back in his life, he wanted revenge.

But then he felt like it wasn't worth it at all...

Or, he could use her?

It would be hard to manipulate a manipulator, but... He could use her to his advantage.

two months passed by peacefully. And Minyu, wide smiled, attended class.

He knew what happened, and he's pumped. It's as if everything right in the world just connected for him and him only.

With a giddy laugh, he opened the door to the cafeteria with a shit eating grin.

And there you were, sitting alone, eating the lunch you made with a somber look on your face.

He's not gonna pretend that he didn't feel guilty, but god did it outway the results.

"Hey, Y/n. What's up?" Minyu asked, sliding beside you. A concerned look he gave, he rubbed your back gently. "You don't look well."

"W-well... Austin... He... he's so close with that new girl. Gaia, wasn't it?" You said, looking up at him. "I saw them... They were so close. Gaia was hugging his arm so close. Austin doesn't like being held at all."

Minyu hid a smirk and offered a gasp. "Wait, really? Why? How?"

"I don't know..." You bit your lip. "I think Austin likes her. Should I give up on him?"

Finally, Minyu yells in his head.

"For me, yes. You've been chasing Austin since we were first year in college. And honestly, you look like a whipped highschooler looking at him and always wanting to be in his vicinity. No offense." He sheepishly said, "Please, y'n. Move on. For yourself."

While you thought of what he said, Minyu almost laughed out loud.

The day that Gaia transfered, he met up with her, in the pretenses of moving on and asking for forgiveness. Gaia, not changing at all, puffed her chest in pride when Minyu asked for forgiveness on something he didn't do.

Minyu then befriended her the old fashion way. Gifting, talking, fanning her ego, etc. But, he also filled her head on how amazing Austin is. On how he's so handsome, and a genius, and most of all, richer than Minyu.

That got Gaia looking at Austin.

Slowly, Gaia lets go of Minyu and focuses on Austin.

Austin too, seems privy with her attention.

And now, you saw how close they got. That's...

"Amazing." Minyu whispered under his breath, watching you think deeply about the heartache you just experienced.

"Please, move on Y/n. You deserve someone better!"

Someone who's close to you, someone who has been there for you.

Someone that is him.

So pick him, choose him, love him.

Before he fully looses his mind.

This one is all over the place ngl TT-TT

[chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter]

Shinichiro, stay away from the kids!

(with love)

Okay, first of all, this is not a hating Shinichiro post. I swear it. This is just me having brain riot and thinking in how many times Shin was a questionable example for kids and teens around him and how we seem to forget about it but it's kinda hilarious when you put all of them together (except for Sanzu, that is never funny, my poor lil gremlin 😭)

I know most of this things were because he was also too young, oblivious and reckless. I know that, but it's funny to bully him with affection anyway 🙈

(and in the more serious ones, he was too dissociated and too out of everything, I know that too)

So... Here I go, random Shinichiro moments for all of you!

(big manga spoilers because it's Shinichiro)

Leaving Inupi to look out the shop.

Inupi, who looks like a cute potato here and it's deffinetly too young for it. Canon unpayed intern Inupi, yuhuuu! 💜

Him smoking around bikes all the damn time.

In his shop where Inupi was and could blow out the whole block. But also in his garage, where Draken and Mikey used to watch him fix the bikes. Shin, don't, that's dangerous! (I would say "if you wanna kill yourself do it but don't drag others with you", buuuuuut... Yeah, he did it and everyone got drag on that, so why bother to say it? 😑)

Wharever the fuck this was.

Probably just a prank, but.. Really, Shin? You ran away and left Izana there? I know, I know, you're a dumb teen, but c'mon, think for once! The whole interaction makes me laugh and want to smack Shinichiro in general, to be honest.

Oh...I think the not-so-funny ones are about to start. Here we go!

Leaving the Black Dragons to the traumatized orphan that just went out of juvie.

Yeah, that looks like a great idea, I'm sure nothing wrong will come out of this, lalalalalalala! (Shinichiro and his relationship with delinquency and his siblings should be a lot more explored because holy shit)

(Btw, not even pointing the helmets stuff, nops)

Bringing 8 y/o Mikey to gang meetings.

Like... What the fuck? I'm with Takeomi on this one, are you stupid Shinichiro? What are you thinking? Are you thinking? 😒

Love how BenWaka bully him for it too, that's why I left it here, ngl.

Isn't that just how Haruchiyo is, slashing people for Mikey?

Well, yeah, he is, but he wasn't! He shouldn't! Can't you not pretend this is not concerning for a second? Or... Not settle this mindset on Sanzu because it's gonna have big consequences? 🤦🏻

Talking about his inminent suicide with a 13 y/o.

Okay, I thought A LOT about putting this one, because obviously I'm not judging Shin at all, he was in a really dark place and when you're about to kill yourself you can't think clearly. It's just that this exchange... Breaks me. And Haruchiyo is just a kid, this is so not fair for him either 😭

(Sanos, start treating the Akashis like people with feelings that also matter for once, please)

You can still be his friend even if he scarred you for life!

Okay, Shin, I know you're a mix of biased and dissociated but... Really? Please, stop creating Sanzu, stop iiiiit! Let Haruchiyo alone, don't do this! Also... "Right now"? So you're saying he should forgive Mikey but not right now? Is that, Shincihiro? 😒

Trauma dumping to 13 y/o Haruchiyo. Shhh, keep the secret, bye!

Did I say Shinichiro created Sanzu? Yes? I'll say it again, I don't care. Again, I know he was dissociating and all, but, but... It's fine to kill people for Mikey mindset is now installed successfully on Haruchiyo's brain, yuhuuu! 😭

The amount of total disregard for Haruchiyo's mental health here is too much and should be a crime. The "keep the secret" part don't make it better. Specially, specially, when Shinichiro himself is not going to keep it, he's about to say everything to Wakasa. But Haru? Shhh, you should keep the secret, I'm sure this is not a huge burden for a teenager that suddenly have two set of memories!

(Well, not everything, he probably forgot to tell Waka about Haruchiyo remembering it, because in the final battle it didn't look like Sanzu ever talked about it with Wakasa and I wanna think they would if he knew... Look, another Sano forgetting about Sanzu, yuhu! 😑)

(Shin, with all my love, but I hate you for this one even if you gave me the best blorbo to torture on my fics that I ever had)

I'm sure you'll be able to handle it, random kid that I don't even know the name! 👀

YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS ONE SHINICHIRO! I wish you remembered in the final timeline because you own Takemitchy the biggest freaking apology of all your life! What the hell? Go, apologize with Michi now!

Yes, he was able to handle it and to be traumatized infinite times in the way, but that's not the point! Use you brain for once Shin, why are you giving the burden to a kid? Why? What is wrong with you? (so many things actually xD)

But, for real, this sentence is Wakui being hilarious because c'mon, poor Takemichi!

Edit: I didn't put the poorly way Shinichiro handled everything about Izana and Mikey because I consider canon doesn't give us enough info on that. Same with Emma. What happened? Why Izana never met them? I have my hc, of course, but we don't know for sure. So... I can't ramble about how badly he managed that! (Badly, for sure, I just don't know exactly how and how much)

[thatdeadaquarius]

Was reading thru ur answered asks again (also hey lol i CAME BACK--) and like. Oh my god. It gave me The Most Idea.

So you get isekaied to Teyvat right? They hear your og language, they revere every single worf from your mouth, yadda yadda yadda. But like. How does SLANG AND THE OTHER ASPECTS OF UR OG LANGUAGE translate. I am having VERY heavy flashbacks to Pokemons "jelly filled donuts".

So like-- for example: (this is the first one that came to my head dont judge me i am tumblr trash) (lets also assume that traveler has perfect understanding of ur language and slang and all the nuances of it)

Lets say you and the traveler were hanging out with some of the Vision holders, and the traveler had some shenanigans and pranks or something planned. After they pull their shit, you say "i hate you so much (affectionate)". Which kind of throws the Vessels in for a loop because like-- their god literally just said they HATED someone. And hate is a PRETTY STRONG WORD. So they should DEFINITELY strike them down for catching their gods ire but-- AFFECTIONATE????? how does one hate someone affectionately???????? Does this mean their god hates the traveler but decided to recind their hate last second? Is it some form of Divine and Holy emotion that cannot be described by the mere words of their language????

Meanwhile youre just there vibin and having a blast with the traveler while you casually give them a philosophical crisis AHAHAHA

Another example is shortened words-- because i know teyvat doesnt have shit like "ily" or "omg" or "lmao" or "fyi" or "brb". Because honestly, without the cultural knowledge and background of the internet, these sets of letters are just fucking GIBBERISH.

And i know that like-- i know enough internet slang abbreviations that i can literally just talk in jumbles of letters, so how in the WORLD would the vessels interpret that? Because its very clear that their god is just using the letters of their language, HELL they might even use Teyvatian letters so what in the world are they saying????

So theyd just hear a convo between the traveler and reader thats like:

Reader: traveler, i gtg asap; tldr i forgot some stuff back in the cr brb

Traveler: wait fr?

Reader: yeah fr

Traveler: lol f

Reader: (sighs) ffs man-- anyways brb for real

Traveler: cya

And the vessels are just watching the exchange like "huh?? What????? What just happened here??????" And theyre just wondering if they used teyvatian to talk in the "divine language of the gods" but nah-- yall are just dickin around AHAHA

Hey, so it came to my attention some of this was AAVE, and while i am southern so things like "ya'll" got included w/o me thinking - thats not an excuse for me to use this as a white person.

so if you wouldnt mind letting me please know if i do this as we talk abt language more and more - i do not want to repeat shit like this again.

I'm genuinely sorry to any black readers out there.

I've personally seen and cringed with you when I see imagines/reader things that assume a white person as default,

All I can do in ur eyes is promise that I am actively putting a stop to my ignorance of things like AAVE, and ask for forgiveness (which you arent obligated to give, never feel that way).

So with that in mind, read the ask below with caution, although it has since been edited.

____

ITS YOU!! >:D

A treat for ur ask my liege 🤲🍪✨️

I think u were literally the first asker after my first SAGAU/Isekai language brainrot post!! Omg u came back with a banger LMAO

What in the public menace is this...

(Gif is traveler and u pranking bitches)

Traveler knowing our world + language + SLANG?? INTERNET?? is SUCH A CONCEPT

So much room for inside jokes

I absolutely love the first one u said about phrases these days/gen z ig? slang

Its like so dramatic now that i think about it

Hate / love / dead / die / just straight up threats towards ur friends as affection or if theyre annoying u 😭

So many explicitives that make it hit harder too "go fucking die, my love <3"

^^^Or yeah like contradictions lol

♤

I think it was @nexylaza (srry abt the tag!) who replied to one of my earlier asks about blunt language how that might sound like to Teyvatians like ur emotions sound more extreme than what u actually feeling (which makes sense ur literally using hate = mildly dislike LMAO)

Same situation here like what u said ^^^

♧

(Ok i did lovely Aether awhile back so we'll go w/ Lumine this time! <3 u Aether!!)

.

*idk at an event/party for your arrival or something, and ya hungry fucks r hoarding the buffet table lol 🍻

.

You: "Shut the fuck up Lumine-"

Lumine: "Why r u pouring ur drink like ur in a earthquake lmao? Shaky hands lol"

.

*The immediate area of people around you go dead silent

*Lumine laughs

💀💀!!

.

Lumine: "Your gonna miss our cups LMAO"

You: "Bitch!" (u grinnin too lol)

.

*the whole rooms now quiet 😭

.

Lumine: "Don't spill- 🤣"

You: "I fucking hate you u whore <3"

(And u give the most genuine like abt to laugh smile🥰 )

.

*...a confused and kinda scared tension fills the room lol

*So poor Noelle, is like, oh. my. god. Creator is that upset with Lumine?? I must try to see what happened, how I can help! I dont remember Lumine doing anything bad to them! Shes wonderful y u do this to her 🥲

.

Noelle: "Uh, um, e-excuse me? Is every-everything al-alright, Y-y-your Majesty?"

You: "Huh? Yeah why??"

Noelle: "...w-well..."

UR FACE LIKE "😗?" LMFAO

.

*The room is staring at Lumine, in a mix of like shock, fear, and a little admiration for taking ur hate?? mood swing??? so well,,

theyre just waiting on Noelle to get an answer from you as to why you hate someone u seemed to care so much about, esp since they were ur first vessel 💀

look what you did their poor hearts u gonna give them a heart attack soon

.

Noelle: "A-a-a-a-are y-y-you s-sure??"

SHE IS SWEATIN

You: "🤨🤨??"

.

*Lumine finally notices why theyre all quiet and kinda concerned looking, bc u sure as hell wouldnt 😭 (i mean it is normal speech for u)

.

And Lumine's like: "No Noelle we're all good! It's just how Your Grace's home world, er, speaks for slang? Its overexagerated purposely dont worry love"

...

...

*Im sure they dont all believe her (or even you if u tell them 😭) and are just like,, REALLY NERVOUS CHUCKLING WHILE LIKE SWEATING-

And it takes a good like 10 minutes for the conversations to start getting back to their volume again, and they all still are looking over their shoulder checking on you guys 😰

.

(U did pour drinks w/o spillin tho🍻)

♡

THE TEXTING SLANNGGG

Ok, but u and Lumine would fucking write letters to people, and being the little shits pranksters u are,

(Bc u kno Teyvat dont got nothing else bc we're in the medival ages, besides having cameras- 🙄 )

And u guys r constantly-

"oh yes yes, that sounds all well and good Keqing, please inform the Qixing that I'll be there ASAP"

AND THEN-

"oh haha, silly me, i forgot that only Lumine/you get that stuff, sorryyyy 😋!!!"

SOME PUBLIC MENACES LMFAO PLEASE

.

And it just spreads to ALLLL the official documents u write or literally any letters sent to anybody-

And everyone else is feeling like the friend that got sacrificed to walk in the grass instead of the sidewalk 💀💀

While also being like "??¿?¿??? 🥲🥲😀😀???"

Is this ancient code?? Why does Lumine get to know it??

Why dont the like??? really old deities understand it??!!

But then nerds like Tighnari, Albedo, Alhaitham, Zhongli, Sucrose, Ayaka, Kokomi, Xingqiu, Childe, Yanfei, Shenhe, Kazhua, Sara, Ayato, Heizou, Cyno, Kaeya

Try to "solve" the letters or slang, poor things and not a single one of them gets it (y did u do this to them lmao)

(God i finally looked at a character list so i wouldnt leave anyone out, but theres so many of these fucks by now help)

^^^But all these ppl try to solve it in different ways/for different reasons that im too lazy to type out individually, u can see it right??

Some see this as an ancient scholarly code thing, some of them think of it like a rlly hard puzzle, and some just rlly want to put the mental effort into knowing/not being left out 😭😭

.

And if anybody happens to see some letter exchanges w/ Lumine or like any written responses, you do not. stop. using. text slang. back to back.

(Like what u put in the ask💀)

And its so miserable for those characters mentioned especially, bc they look like scrambled letters 😭

.

Honestly them seeing u two talk to each other via letters just proves that the letters even mean anything at all to them, bc how did u understand each other, otherwise???!!

.

(No one would ever realize u guys were fucking around unless u told them 💀)

✨️Sorry✨️this✨️isnt✨️that✨️great✨️i✨️just✨️wanted✨️ to✨️ expand✨️ on✨️ what ✨️u ✨️already ✨️had ✨️nothing ✨️new✨️ 🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

I felt feral and out of it when i wrote this, i literally dont remember a single word i typed on that bullet list..

SO i still have asks/requests im gonna answer but i will be posting my follower event poll!! CLICK ME :) ♡

Yall get to choose what i write about for some posts :D

(You can be a new follower!)

✨️

BTW

UR SO BIG BRAIN SMART 2ND RANDOM U EVEN THOUGHT ABT TEYVATIAN LETTERS GETTING INCLUDED ADHJSLALASLL

WHAT A GENIUS

I hope my shit writing was somewhat ok of a reply to read to pay u back for that great idea lol

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds

@karmawonders

[aingeal98]

hello hello! i saw your post and need your thoughts and verdict (hypothetically) for yhk in the last chapter. what would yjh and hsy do once kdj woke up, what if he never woke up and remains unreachable to them after all the effort?

thoughts on doksoo/ joongdok centric and which (poignant) scene makes a neuron lit up and go ah, them. and makes you go crazy, like, every single scene might as well an orpheus and eurydice-d, such as that "cancel your skill, kim dokja"

DHGFVJDFGV sorry you're just such a joy to read on the tags as you go through the story on tumblr since the yhk tags are most often then not, lifeless

Aaaaa thank you for this it's a fun ask! :D

Personally I believe Dokja woke up. Both because I want a happy ending for them and because I wouldn't put it past yoohan to track down and kill everyone who read orv and imagined a sad ending. But also I think him waking up is only the first step. There's no way things aren't complicated afterwards because Dokja will feel guilty for putting his friends through the trauma of losing him and his friends will try and convince him that he deserves love and they don't mind but at the same time the trauma is real and it's there. So it's going to be a long road to helping him forgive himself even if they all have done so already.

I feel like YJH would be pushy at first. Like this is the guy who became a terrorist rather than try therapy. He wants to find meaning through Dokja, to ask Dokja how he's supposed to live now, and that's a lot of pressure that none of the others will want to fall on Dokja's shoulders. Which I think will be good for HSY because it let's her fall into the comfortable zone of yelling at YJH for being terrible at expressing himself and ignoring her own terrible emotions as much as possible in the mean time. So I kind of see it like:

YJH & HSY: Screaming clawing kicking biting each other outside the hospital because HSY thinks YJH is being too pushy with Dokja and YJH thinks he's helping both of them by asking Dokja for guidance and HSY is getting in the way of his recovery.

Sangah, calmly pouring herself and Dokja tea inside his hospital room: So I spoke to your mother today and she'll be here soon! Oh don't worry about those two they'll probably only break a few bones.

But then if he never did wake up... I don't think either of them would be able to truly move on. I think they'd keep hoping that he would get better and the longer he doesn't the more the likelihood grows that one of them snaps and comes up with another reckless life threatening plan to increase the odds of his recovery. I'm not sure what it'd be but I like to think HSY is the one that snaps first this time. Just goes up to YJH like "hey are you ready for me to subject you to more horrendous torment for the slim tiny chance that it could make Dokja wake up" and YJH is like "naturally".

Whether they actually succeed or whether their plan is so terrible and hopeless that Sangah has to step in and force them to accept he's gone (an impossible task but she'll push them as close to the acceptance stage of grief as she possibly can.) I'm not sure. Either way it'd be fun to read about. I haven't looked into the side stories yet but I'm curious if they might make me change my mind about any of this. For now this is how I imagine it going down anyways.

Doksoo are insane and they consume my every waking thought. Reading the webtoon after the novel is so crazy because HSY really shows up as this random villain and no one including her has any idea that she's one of the three most important people in the universe. Like she's just a little fella. A prankster who's pranks sometimes involve murder. And the way she and Dokja are so unimpressed by each other and have no idea how much they'll end up loving each other... I feel like rereading any early doksoo interaction is going to come with extra loud clown music like even Dokja calling her a plagiarist and Sooyoung being like ugh you're such a cliche like oh you dumbasses. You have no idea.

I enjoyed both doksoo and joongdok's early banter a lot like it always added a ton of energy into every scene. But the moments it really clicked for me was the whole reincarnation island arc for doksoo. Like reading his narration about Sooyoung it's like ohhhh my god he's down bad. He's as in love as I am. He doesn't even realise it but he is so enamoured by her. Like that was the moment I could see the potential for them to become as important to each other as they did. The foundation and foreshadowing was done so well, not one bit of their relationship progression felt unearned.

And then for joongdok I think it was their divorce era that really got me on board. Like they were fun in the early stages but once Dokja is convinced there's no going back and is actually emotionally vulnerable and honest with YJH and YJH gets to vent his own frustrations about being nothing more than a character... It really solidified their bond for me. It brought Dokja down to YJH's level rather than the reader he was trying to be to YJH's character. Plus we get HSY dying and traumatising Dokja for once instead of the reverse. It's what they deserve.

Also punisher and transfem YJH and everything that's implied in the novel and how that would add to to her dynamics with doksoo. Haven't gotten any solid thoughts on that yet but the concept is slowly taking a grip on me.

So yeah after the reincarnation island arc I was so fully on board with this ot3 and every single Orpheus moment that followed hit right into my heart.

Sorry this is so long and barely scratches the surface alsjsjdhdh. I'm still processing everything but man. What a story. What a trio. Wretched mirror soulmates with toxic codependency my beloveds.

[rollercoasterwords]

about those prank thoughts... well i’d love to hear them sooo if you needed an excuse to write another essay here it is

kissing u on the mouth anon ok here we go here's the prank rant (warning it got super long):

ok so this is limited in scope because as i've said before, i've only been in this fandom for like ~1.5 years, so idk anything about how the prank was talked about/handled before this. BUT. what i personally have seen. is essentially:

atyd gets super popular via tiktok -> it becomes sort of "canon" (at least, amongst newer marauders fans) that The Prank was like...this really devastating event that tore apart the marauders friend group, because that's how it was characterized in atyd--despite the fact that in the actual canon, it honestly doesn't seem like as big of a deal -> since it becomes the New Canon that The Prank was Such A Horrible Thing, suddenly people begin talking (mostly on tiktok) about how awful and unforgivable it was for sirius to do something like that. this devolves into this big discussion of people saying either

it's completely out of character for sirius to do The Prank and he never "really" would have done it; we should just ignore that part of canon

The Prank is so unforgivable that it makes sirius a completely irredeemable character

The Prank is so awful that anyone writing it in a canon compliant fic should be showing every single marauder turning against sirius and everyone hating him/telling him what he did was so awful and wrong, and it should take a really long time and a lot of apologizing/changed behavior before remus ever forgives sirius

and this then got extended into debates about james' characterization; I saw sooooo many people talking about "james would NEVER just forgive sirius for something like that" "james would side with remus" etc etc etc

and the end result of all these conversations was that i saw tons and tons of people saying that the way The Prank was written in atyd was Bad. not just--oh, i didn't like it, though there was plenty of that too, but people acting as though the way it was written was a moral failing, as though mkb had failed to convey how Horrible and Awful of a thing the prank was, and in doing so she had allowed people to Sympathize with sirius's character, when he should have been Punished. suddenly everyone was climbing on their high horses about The Prank, talking about how unrealistic or out of character or "problematic" it was to write it the way it was done in atyd--which was ironic to me, because from where i was sitting, it seemed like it was atyd that had solidified this fanon idea that The Prank was Such A Bad Thing in the first place (again, at least amongst fans brought in by tiktok).

SO. my problem with this. setting aside the conversation of whether The Prank was actually That Bad in the first place (because i think it can be written as a more or less serious event, depending on how you interpret canon--but personally, i tend to interpret it as something Very Bad, so let's start with that premise) and operating under the assumption that it was, in fact, a really horrible thing that put not only snape + james in danger but also remus, since he could have been exposed as a werewolf--the thing that drives me up the fucking WALL about The Prank discourse is that it is, to me, just one example of this obsession with Morality and Punishment when it comes to "literary critique" (using that term loosely, because i'd argue that a lot of what these people are doing actually isn't literary critique) in the marauders fandom (post-tiktokifcation, at least).

like. specifically, it's this idea that something like The Prank would make sirius, as a character, irredeemable, and that it would be unrealistic for his friends to forgive him. that, to me, is just....such a strange interpretation!!! because if you are friends--close friends, childhood friends--with someone for long enough, they will hurt you. you will hurt each other. it is an inevitable part of being human that getting close to each other and staying close to each other often means hurting each other. and the closer you are with someone, the more they can hurt you. i have a childhood friend who is essentially like family to me, and i was cruel to her when i was fourteen. i was dealing with a lot of shit, and i was young, and i was mean. and we've both been cruel to each other in the nearly two decades we've known each other, and we've had explosive fights, but we have always found our way back to each other and forgiven each other, because that's the kind of friendship we have. i have another childhood friend who hurt me so deeply when we grew older that despite having my literal handwriting tattooed on her arm, we haven't spoken in five years, and will probably never speak again. that kind of hurt is a risk you take when you let people in.

so to me, the idea that a teenage boy raised in an abusive environment who has just run away a few months earlier, who is dealing with all that shit as well as the regular shit of just being a fucking teenager, would thoughtlessly and deeply hurt his friend--that isn't out of character! in fact, i think it's entirely in character, and i think it's a crucial part of sirius's relationship with remus and the other marauders. because the fact that remus is able to forgive sirius says something important about their relationship. what exactly it says will vary, to a certain extent, depending on the details of how you write the prank and characterize the characters, but overall--it's important because it's showing that their relationship is strong enough and close enough and important enough to both of them that they are able to move past this deeply hurtful event. and that, to me, is a WAY more interesting and impactful relationship to read about than a relationship where two people are always good and never hurt each other.

and regarding james--personally, i love the characterization that james forgives sirius "too quickly" or "too easily" after the prank, because i think it's an opportunity to explore one of his most important character flaws, which is that he cannot imagine that his friends would ever purposefully do something bad/harmful. like--this loyalty and belief in his friends is literally what gets him killed. what amazing foreshadowing to show that even when his best friend does something blatantly wrong, james still thinks--well, he didn't mean it. his intentions weren't bad. and obviously he's sorry--and he's a still a good person, because he's my friend, and my friends are good people. like THAT is how you write a character flaw!

and speaking of character flaws--this is also one of the best opportunities, if you're following canon, to really explore some of sirius's character flaws! and again, it's gonna change depending on how you're writing certain details, but in some way shape or form this is a very important mistake for sirius to make in order for his character to grow--obviously, something has to change afterwards, because otherwise how could remus forgive him? but what has to change? how does it have to change? good characters aren't meant to be static!!

it's just. !!!! The Prank is truly, genuinely, one of the BEST opportunities from canon that you can use you really explore these characters and their flaws and their relationships with one another. so it is genuinely BAFFLING to me to see sooooo many people condemn it and act like it's this atrocious thing, because i feel like it demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of what literature is meant to do. like--i've talked about this before on my blog, and i'll keep saying it til the cows come home, but fictional characters do not exist as moral blueprints. good literature should engage your critical thought, and "character does Bad Thing -> character is Bad" is not critical thought!!! like!! fiction isn't telling you how to live, it's asking you to think about the human condition--and part of the human condition is that people make mistakes, and they hurt each other, and they have to figure out how to keep living in the wake of that hurt!! The Prank is this plot point where you can bring up really tough questions, like--how does closeness with others leave us vulnerable to them? is that vulnerability worth the closeness? what role does intent play in measuring harm? what can we forgive? what can we not forgive?

i get that sometimes with fanfiction you just want fluffy happy brain-off fun, but you can find that if that's what you want, y'know? like--it's just so so strange and honestly concerning for me to see people act as though something like The Prank shouldn't be written just because it means giving characters flaws and exploring them.

in conclusion, The Prank is one of my favorite parts of canon, and i truly think it is so worthwhile to explore when writing and thinking about these characters, especially sirius. also--it is important to understand, both within and outside of literature, that having flaws and causing harm does not automatically make a person irredeemable. if we are going to live with each other we need to learn how to respond to people fucking up in ways that are not just: You Are Bad And Must Be Punished.

[woopeee]

its okay teehee

luckly the post got to me by a friend who has had to hear abt this ship before teehee

ok so afaik this ship doesnt break any boundaries?? like i saw a post abt cc!pearl being ok w ships now as long as ppl dont tag her in it, and well cc!scott has been ok w it for a while

but like... trans Pearl x Scott, I'm obsessed w them in both life series and empires, i got many hcs and ship names for em

by trans Pearl I specifically have the hc of gendervoid verinix mlm She/He/Void/Moon Pearl. However im also a big fan of transmasc, bigender and agender Pearl hcs!!! or switching up the She/He by He/She, mostly go by She/He since its called a she throughout all the series for obvious reasons lol..

And Scott just stays a cis gay he/him man bc idk it suits him well enough

i just think they have the best friends(cough w a bit of an unlabeled queer relationship going on) to enemies to frienemies to lovers, throughout seasons

its so late at night that its hard to think too much rn but i can continue explaining The Vision tomorrow if allowed..

some ship names i use for em: rom galaxy duo, scottpearl, scottearl, pearlott, and my favorite so far MajorMoon

I just love my gays so much they're such a big comfort to me... just two gays living in a cottage w a clearly queer but unlabeled relationship... two gays having relationship drama... two gays having gay tension and pulling petty pranks while trying to forgive eachother for the divorce era... two gays finally healing and getting their shit together and finally labeling their relationship and having lil dates in secret behind their allies backs before their eventual demise in the finale...

just think abt the possibilities

-Sincerely, a humble MajorMoon yaoi anon...

(im a gay man i use the word yaoi as a lighthearted joke)

Oh thats so silly..

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Oh. Uh. Hi, You're Home Early

Agent (REDACTED) finally picks her name, and tries to set up a surprise for her favorite instructor. She gets caught in the act.

As scheduled, I walk down the dark, dreary Keter Wing to my biweekly beat down by 076-2. I wave at a few people, since the Everybean Incident a lot of staff seem friendlier toward me. Hey, not many people would have handled the Bright problem the way Clef and I did, but it worked. O5 even issued a standing order, whenever Dr. Bright had a new bad idea, he had to take and eat a handful of jelly beans from the neverending jar. O5-3 was impressed by our inventiveness, Clef told me. I reach 076's door, and walk in, expecting a lecture on being ready. I'm greeted by three puzzled guards.

"Hey, guys? Where's my favorite angry anomaly?"

"You didn't get the memo? Pandora's Box is out on a mission. Been gone for a few hours."

"Huh. You mind if I go grab a few things, come back? As silly and lame as it sounds, I want to try and surprise Abel."

"Not my play, kiddo... but so long as it's not a weapon, there shouldn't be an issue. What do you have in mind, not that I care."

"Pretty cold in his cube, a few really thick blankets might be a good call. I located a copy of his favorite book in a secondhand bookshop, the pages are kinda yellow, but the binding is leather, good leather. A couple pillows. A new cloak, stuff like that. He's not big on luxury, or a lot of stuff really."

"Fine. Get your stuff, and Dave, go with her."

"Got all of it in a big box in my office, ready to go." Dave and I head back to my office. He stops me just outside the door.

"Please tell me you mean it, and you're not pranking our perpetually pissed off Sumerian."

"I mean it, Dave. He's taught me a lot, and I want to show my appreciation. Especially considering he could have just killed me instead."

"Good. Abel does not forgive."

We go in, grab the box, and head back. It's a two person job, but only because the box is huge. We go in, and set the box down by the cube.

"Hey, thanks Dave."

"No worries, it was way lighter than expected. I gotta go back to my post now. Hope he likes his surprise." I nod, and get to work.

I'm unpacking everything, and I realize... this is just way too much stuff. I went overboard on the blankets. There's six thick sherpa lined throws, plus four pillows. I stack the blankets on the floor by his cube door, and the stack is up to my elbow. With the fluffy pillows, it's over my head. I'm so focused on not smothering myself in fabric and goosedown I fail to notice the shadow behind me.

"Little Rabbit? What is this?"

"Oh. Uh, hi? You're home early. I was, er, trying to surprise you." Abel glared at me, one eyebrow raised. "I'm grateful for all you've done to help me, and this is my misguided attempt to show it." I reach into the cardboard box, and bring out the book. I hand it to him.

"My favorite book? And all this? Little Rabbit, tongues will wag. They will say you have, how you say... a "crush" on me?" He looks me dead in the eye. Busted.

"Is is so awful to think someone might, if given the chance, like you? Not even in a romantic flowers-and-long-walks-in-the-moonlight way? But, as a person, not a tool or a weapon? Because, weird as it sounds, I do. This is me, just showing my friend and mentor I care. Besides, I know damn well how rough sleeping on stone is."

He looks at me, trying to determine where the lie is. The catch is, I meant what I said. And he knows it. Although, I'd be lying if I didn't have the odd daydream or three. An awkward eternity passes. Then, he pulls me close for a close embrace.

"Little Rabbit, thank you. This is, well... it is more than I deserve. You're so kind to me."

"Aw, shucks. You're getting mushy on me. Better stop that, or they'll say you have the crush on me instead." He smiles, then plants a kiss on top of my head. He then let go.

"Like they would dare say anything to me. Besides, it was a gesture of brotherly affection towards his little sister. You are my little sister, yes? Not in blood but spirit."

"Guess everybody can just call me Sister Rabbit. Nah... just Rabbit. Only you get to call me Little Sister and live."

"And you may call me Big Brother. It feels good to be the older sibling for once."

"As an only child, I'm happy to have a brother."

[chipotle]

Generative AI comes for imaginary friends

On LinkedIn, the social network of mandatory happiness, software engineer Michael Sayman writes about his new product: Introducing SocialAI, a private social network where you receive millions of AI-generated comments offering feedback, advice & reflections on each post you make. I will admit my first thought about this was: this is a prank, right? This is a fake product that somebody who hates generative AI and the “techbro culture” would come up with to mock it. My second thought was: oh no, it’s real. SocialAI is more than just another project for me – it’s the culmination of everything I’ve been thinking about, obsessing over, and dreaming of for years. I’ve always wanted to create something that not only showcases what’s possible with tech but also helps people in a real, tangible way. SocialAI is designed to help people feel heard, and to give them a space for reflection, support, and feedback that acts like a close-knit community. This app is a little piece of me – my frustrations, my ambitions, my hopes, and everything I believe in. It’s a response to all those times I’ve felt isolated, or like I needed a sounding board but didn’t have one. I know this app won’t solve all of life’s problems, but I hope it can be a small tool for others to reflect, to grow, and to feel seen. And my next thought was—forgive me, but does Mr. Sayman know how genuinely sad an application that creates artificial parasocial relationships for you sounds? I don’t love the phrase “go touch some grass,” but Jesus Hasenpfeffer Christ, if there’s any sign you need to delete Visual Studio Code from your laptop and go take up goat yoga, isn’t this it? As far as I can tell, his intention here is sincere; his new company, “Friendly Apps,” has a mission “to foster connections that prioritize mental health and holistic well-being”. But if you’re thinking “the only kind of person who would think a flood of AI-generated ‘support and feedback’ would be therapeutic would be, I don’t know, a Gen-Z product manager at Facebook or Google,” I have unsurprising news for you. To be sure, Sayman is a prodigy, joining Facebook when he was 18 after already published successful iOS apps. His priority there, though, was helping them go after teenagers, developing an ill-fated Snapchat competitor that lasted a year. One could make the blunt but not unfair case that Facebook/Instagram has contributed more to the need for therapy than any other company, and that perhaps one should have thought of that before, you know, becoming a product manager for them. Maybe I’m being cynical. Maybe SocialAI will be fruitful in combating loneliness and isolation. But maybe you should hang out with a non-robotic friend or two, whether online or off, instead. (originally published at Coyote Tracks)

[fcarsdark]

changing up my tags so uh....tag drop 

[rons-wheezely]

224 || G.W.

George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, humor

Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

--x--

“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him. 

His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.” 

This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is. 

Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.

Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.

You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.

As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once. 

You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…” 

All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.

“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.” 

“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.

“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”

Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.

“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile. 

George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”

“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love. 

“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films. 

You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you. 

“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”

It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.

Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”

You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?” 

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.

“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”

“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.

“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you. 

“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.

“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?

“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”

If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“

He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?

“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.

The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”

“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.

“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.

“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.

You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.

You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”

As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“

Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.

You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.

“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.

He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.

“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.

“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.

Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.

[thebeautyoffanfics]

hellooo!!!✨✨okok so--i know you already did break up PRANK hcs but hear me out on this one!!-- TBHK boys getting into a really bad argument with their s/o and then a day/few days later the boys overhear their s/o talking to someone about how they might actually break up with them💔?If you want to ignore this thats fine but if you do, then angst to fluff please!!✨✨✨

kou minamoto x gn!reader, teru minamoto x gn!reader

a/n: RAZOOOOOOOOR MY DEAR FRIEND, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, I LOVE ANGST TO FLUFF BUT. I'M TAKING SO LONG WRITING THIS AND I FEEL SO BAD SO I HAD AN IDEA??? I'M GONNA POST!!! WHAT I HAVE WRITTEN NOW!!!!! AND WHEN I FINISH THE OTHER PARTS I'LL TAG YOU IN IT AND COUNT IT AS THE REST OF THIS REQUEST;;;; I'm so so sorry for the inconvenience, and probably disappointment, but the parts i have written are fairly long, so maybe that'll make up for,,,,,, the unreasonable wait you've had to deal with, and what will probably continue to be an unreasonable wait;;

also this highkey goes from headcanons to a oneshot so??? i'm sorry, it's,,, it's chaos in my braiiiin /lh

warnings: mention of arguments?

word count: 1,857

kou minamoto <3

Kou tries his best not to jump to conclusions, especially regarding your relationship with him. However, now, he can’t help it…

He doesn’t typically lose his temper. Teru tried to reassure Kou that you both simply got fed up with something, and that arguments were bound to happen… what mattered was that Kou apologized. Think for a bit, realize where he was in the wrong, and admit that to you. Be sincerely sorry, and then leave the forgiving up to you.

So, that’s what Kou wanted to do… he at least wanted to apologize. Kou wasn’t sure that you’d forgive him, but that’s all he wanted.

“Kou? Ah… we… got into a pretty bad argument yesterday, so I haven’t really talked to him.”

“Oh? I’ll take it you’re considering how to break up with him? I mean, if it’s bad enough to make you not feel like talking to him.”

“I’m… well, maybe? I can’t say just yet, but I won’t say it’s not going to happen. Just… how would I-”

Kou turned around, walking as quickly as he could, until he couldn’t hear the conversation. His feet felt like they froze up on him- as he turned back around. At this moment, he would be completely lost.

He genuinely couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. As he stared back down the hallway, Kou would be… put simply, full of guilt. What could he have done to prevent the argument? Why couldn’t he have admitted his fault sooner? What could he do to keep you?? No… did he even deserve you at this point?

Heck if he was going to let you go so easily… no, no, he had to try something. Anything.

So, he’d walk back to where he came from, turning the corner to where you were as if he heard nothing. He appeared normal- walking with the same amount of confidence a boy his age would. But, when he spoke-

“(Y-Y/N), could we… walk home together?”

The way he stuttered, and the general tone of his voice, practically gave him away. Maybe it was for that reason you agreed? Were you curious? Or were you just looking for an opening to break up with him…?

The walk was silent… silent, until you were far enough from others that Kou could speak about the topic comfortably.

“(Y/N)... please, please… at least reconsider breaking up with me.” He spoke, looking over at you, a more serious look on his face than you thought the usually fairly lighthearted boy could muster. Still, his eyebrows were furrowed, as if he were desparate. “Please.”

A second passed before he inhaled again, turning to face you completely, no longer walking. “I promise you, I’ll never raise my voice at you again. I’m so sorry that I did- I’m so sorry for yesterday, and I thought about it, and- and not even because I love you, I was in the wrong. So… so, just tell me what’s wrong. If it’s something I can change- if you need me to change for the better, I… I can do my best, alright? Please?”

“Kou…” You sighed, unsure how to approach this. He looked as if he was going to cry- as if he was trying not to look emotional. Maybe to look strong? Or maybe hoping that his emotions wouldn’t affect your answer- and that you would answer the way you wanted to… he could only hope that it would be the way he wanted.

“Kou, I’m not going to break up with you. I had to think, yes- I had to think long and hard about that argument. But, I’m glad you’re apologizing- and I’ll apologize as well. Really, that’s all I need for now, so… calm down, you goofball.”

Kou’s entire expression seemed to lighten, a very visible switch from his previous emotions showing both on his face and in his body language. “Really…? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. We may need to talk about some things? But, I still love you, and I’d muuuuuch rather work things out- which I’m sure we can do- than break up with you.”

Excitedly, Kou slung his arms around you, squeezing you tightly- as tightly as he could without hurting you. “Thank you so much, (Y/N)... I’m so happy. I’m so, so sorry- thank you for forgiving me. I love you so much-”

“Ah- I love you too, Kou. Very much.”

teru minamoto <3

Teru losing his temper is extremely rare, especially with you.

However, when he does… it’s very intense. He knows how to get under any person’s skin, he manages to figure out every little insecurity or pet peeve about people he barely knows- of course he knows yours. He dislikes using his knowledge against you, but when he starts to lose his cool, he simply knows how to express his anger through words.

(Words being other words than ways he’d deem “childish.” Yes, he takes arguments seriously, and doesn’t want to seem incompetent- well, not at any time does he want to seem incompetent, but especially not during an argument.)

So, no one could blame you for having the option of breaking up- or maybe just… splitting for a bit, just to have time to think- cross your mind. Actually, cross it several more times than either of you would like.

As much as Teru wanted you to apologize, he knew that he’d have to eventually. He wanted to be as mature as he could, but even he wanted some time to simply… think. Consider the words he said, and consider the ones you did. Consider what started the argument in the first place… yes, he just needed to think.

And he certainly did think. In fact, he’d think and think about it for a while- all day at school, until he found himself thinking a bit more heavily, a bit more panicked, and a bit more serious- unintentionally (at first anyway) eavesdropping on a conversation between you and a friend.

“He just… he knows how to annoy people, you know? It’s like he knows everything about me to a point where he can use it against me. I’m not unique of course- I’m sure he knows every little thing that bothers you. He’s just… attentive, I guess. But it’s getting overwhelming- I’m starting to consider just… breaking things off. Or at least distancing ourselves for a bit??”

Your friend sighed a bit, barely loud enough for Teru to hear- “I understand. He seems like a nice guy, so I’m not sure I could have guessed. Still, you do what’s best for you. There’s no need to rush things, but if you have to seriously think about breaking up, then I’ll support you all the way!”

As Teru heard you thank your friend, he walked away- trying his best to keep his composure. Panic mode was on for the tall boy, as he stepped into the (thankfully) empty School Council room. He locked the door behind himself, and took a seat.

Teru would place his head in his hands, trying to force himself to think. What should he do? Would apologizing work?

“I’m an idiot,” Teru verbally sighed, standing back up. Rarely did he exclaim things aloud like that- but he genuinely thought of himself as nothing more than an idiot in that moment.

He’d unlock and open the door, stepping into the hallway, then making his way to where he knew your locker was- the school day had barely just ended… surely, you would be there by now.

There you were- slinging your bookbag over your shoulder as you waved goodbye to your friend. Teru did his best to seem casual, making his way over to you. Not many people remained in the hall, so Teru hoped it was few enough for him to talk to you casually.

“Hey, (Y/N)...” He spoke, waving his hand slightly. Never had the school prince felt more awkward- if for nothing else, this was why he hated arguments. The mix of guilt and embarrassment was truly starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Ah. Teru. What brings you to… my locker?”

“I wanted to talk to you. The vice president will be a while- so, could we talk a bit in the School Council room?”

Teru could feel his nerves increase as you looked hesitant, glancing to the side as if you were searching for an excuse.

“I’ll leave the doors unlocked. Aoi could enter at any moment, and you can leave as you please. I just want to… apologize, mainly. But I do want to talk, just for a bit- for as long as you’ll listen.”

You glanced up at Teru, making eye contact for the first time that day. “Yeah? Will the ‘talk’ be you insulting me again?”

“...I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t express how sorry I am. I know I can’t take words back, and that saying sorry truly fixes nothing, but I will do whatever you need me to. Whatever it takes for you to understand how genuinely sorry I am.”

Yes, Teru prayed that you could see how sorry he was. He was willing to apologize in front of any students who may be around… the prince himself indirectly admitting his faults. Though he’d continue to spill his feelings in front of everyone that remained, a part of him did hope you’d prefer privacy-

When you sighed, turning in the direction of the club room and walking, Teru internally cheered. You were considering his apology. He was… doing alright- still, he needed to do better.

Once the two of you are alone, Teru would express his genuine guilt, sincerely apologize many times, and go into detail as to why he was sorry- what he was sorry for- and how/why exactly he’d change. The reasons he’d do all he could to never treat you that way again.

“Teru,” You sighed, his monologue now settled in your mind. “I understand you’re sorry, and I appreciate it. I’d apologize for my part, but- I see the way you’re looking at me. You don’t want me to apologize,” Teru nodded at that part, agreeing with the statement, “and I appreciate that as well. I may have to think a bit, but I don’t want to end things if I don’t absolutely have to. Just… prove yourself to me, alright? And that’s all I’ll ask for. I’ll do my best to prove myself as well.”

“That’s fine. You don’t need to prove anything to me, (Y/N). You’re an angel in my eyes,” Teru spoke, standing up and gently grasping your hands. For once, you could tell that Teru was nervous. His hands holding yours shook slightly… and you were surprised at how warm they were- vaguely sweaty. You would have joked about how un-prince-like that was, if it wasn’t for the gentle expression he wore.

“I love you, (Y/N). Thank you for giving me another chance to prove myself.”

“...Alright, alright, I love you too. Don’t get too overdramatic about it- just don’t be a cocky jerk- at least not to me- and we’ll do just fine.”

[levisgirll]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐰/𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

Hello everyone!

This is a special collab post brought to you by ‘cookiefics’ and ‘levisgirll’ and we decided to work together and write up a post which is y/n pranking their aot boyfriends!

Check out cookiefics for Eren and Reiner 

And

Check out ‘levisgirll’ for Levi and Jean. (Here!)

Synopsis: Y/N decided to prank the boys in attack on titan by saying they don’t want to ‘sleep with them tonight’. Some will get annoyed, sad, might tease you back or try to get your attention! And to make it up, Y/N ends the prank by saying the 3 words they long wanted to hear! So pick or check out which character you like the most and enjoy <3 We promise this will be good that is filled with love, fluff, entertainment and a little bit angst.

text: I feel honored to work and make a collab post with cookiefics, this was extremely fun to do and working with her was one of the best decisions I made! This is my first collab post and I am happy to say that I am glad and proud how this turned out! Important point please support and check out my friend’s cookiefics post for Eren and Reiner, you won’t regret it😩💖 (her work is amazing- and I admire her writings and ideas a lot so check her account please :,)✨)

Levi:

‘Okay I’m gonna do it! No more backing away.’ Y/N thought as they took a deep breath while turning the door knob to enter the bedroom. They are gonna do the prank on Levi tonight.

Y/N entered the bedroom, and the first sight they see is Levi, their boyfriend, sitting on the chair while his legs were crossed and sipping his tea.

He would always wait for his partner before going to bed, he never once went to bed without first Y/N going to bed. He was that loyal and such a gentleman, and also because he is deeply in love with you.

He can’t even relax or lay on bed if you are not by his side! You are his everything, and he will not and never have a goodnight rest without you being by his side because you matter to him a lot.

Oh how you feel bad doing this prank on Levi, your great boyfriend...but you had to, you wanted to see how he would react!

“Love...I was waiting for you.” He sounded so glad, and happy once you entered inside. But, he realized you were a bit late and the next thing shocked him.

You just walked past him with a stolid manner, and did not even reply to him as you went straight to the bathroom. You took your toothbrush and started to brush your teeth.

Levi picked that up QUICKLY and would try to figure out what is wrong with Y/N, while still sipping his tea but now he has uncrossed his leg (cause this sudden act from his partner made him worry). Watching Y/N, observing them in his own sherlock style.

“Hey...Something wrong?” Levi would say as he laid his shoulder against the bathroom door which was open.

When you finished brushing your teeth, you were washing your hands and coldly said “No.”

He lowkey starts to get nervous and then he would probably start to think he is the problem why his lover is acting like this. He will think and be like ‘The hell? They don't love me? What am I to them….?’. He clearly starts to doubt himself and overthink. You gave him no sort of clue what was going on!

When you left the bathroom and went into the bedroom, you started to change into your nightwear, still giving Levi your back. 

Levi is quick and smart to catch on things, especially if the vibe is not the same. ‘Fuck did I actually mess this up’ He tries to initiate the conversation by asking you “Hey Love, did you drink the tea I made for you?”

“Hm, Oh yea.” Y/N said, still with her stolid manner and then proceeded to brush their hair. ‘What?!...Something is definitely wrong, this is the second time I'm saying love to them and they haven't once said love back.’ Now he is getting concerned and he started to come closer towards you, he is conflicted also to hug you or not. (you noticed that and that broke your heart-)

“Y/N, Something is wrong...was the tea bad!?” Levi said out loud in his unease tone. 

He turned around and went to his drawer to get the tea box to check if there was anything that was mentioned that could be bad.

He was ready to sue this tea company, ‘I want to end this company’s whole career...how dare they.’

“No Levi….it was not the tea.” You said all worried, ‘What tea is he even talking about?! And why does he look ready to murder someone’ You thought as you looked at him, but also trying to hold your laughter.

He gave out a sigh, relieved it was not the case. Now, he can sleep with you right? He went to change into his sleeping outfit and he was all thrilled to hold his Y/N and sleep with them. It was indeed his favorite time of the day.

But...Y/N wasn't moving towards the bed? And they begin to say “Hey Um...I wanna sleep alone tonight. So, could you leave?”

Levi had a sinking feeling in his stomach, his eyes widened ‘What..?’

He turned around to look at you all confused and...hurt by what you said. “No.” He said after 3 minutes of silence, he was trying to process what the hell was even going on. (poor man-)

“No? Okay, I’ll leave and go sleep in the other guest room we have.” But, before you could even go near the door to leave.

Levi would block the door by standing in front of it, not allowing his lover to leave. “If..” He started to look at you and raised his eyebrows, being all serious. Then, he said in a serious tone. “You go there, I swear to you I will kick the door down and break it.”

You had to hold back your laughter, and tried to control yourself because you know for a fact your man will do that and it would be a lie if he is not clingy. Cause, he is.

“Why! Tell me.” He looked at your eyes, searching for any sign of answer on your facial expression. One hand cupping your side cheek and the other hand rested on your shoulder as he gently stroked it. 

“If it is about the tea, I will try my best to drink those damn bubble teas, frappuccino or whatever they are that you like so much with you!” He gave you a look, that was determined and he was ready to go out and get one even if it was midnight just to prove it to you.

He is actually kind of shocked and he would stand there waiting for your response. But inside, he is sad and hurt about this all cause he is blaming himself this is happening because of him!

“L-Love!! It's a joke, a prank okay?” You couldn't hold yourself and you finally said it was a joke, you just missed not saying love to your boyfriend and you wanted to hug him again and express your love towards him cause you know he was hurt!

Levi would get irritated and annoyed, and let you go. He heads towards the bed. After, he would say. “Again, with your fucking pranks hm? No one is laughing here.” He is clearly pissed at how he fell for this but also, lowkey glad it was not none of the things he was thinking about.

Y/N surprises their boyfriend and would finally say it to make it up for Levi. “Hey...Um” Y/N stood there, all shy while looking down and holding their arms. Levi turned around to look at them, “What? Again another prank? Because that won't wor-”. You ran towards him and brought your arms around his neck while hugging him tightly “Ugh No, I love you!” While you said that, you kept your face on his shoulder and he felt your face burning up.

After you finally say those three words, he goes all soft and starts to even get butterflies. It was the first time he heard you say that out loud, because he knew you are usually shy.

He would think about it again the whole night and that makes him forget you even pranked him.

He hugs you even tighter tonight and kisses their neck quite a lot, he was showing you some of his rare affection and love.

Levi would later say “so you still like sleeping with me...hm? You didn’t say anything about that.”

He wants to make sure his s/o loves and cherishes him, and also he started to show more love tonight to you. 

Jean:

To start the prank with Jean, you decided to give him the silent treatment, and that upsets him to unknown levels for you. He was a really soft boy and small things like this really overwhelmed him!

“Babe...Do you want something?” Jean tried, he really did. To get any sort of reaction from you, he softly rubbed both of your shoulders as he was behind you. He was about to kiss your neck when you said. “Jean...I want to sleep alone tonight, maybe you should go and sleep on the couch because-” You were about to continue when he made you turn around quickly and held both of your arms.

“First of all, who is Jean? I don’t know any Jean! I’m babe for you, remember?” He was highly strung, and tried to pretend he did not hear you say his first name. This guy would always crave and was eager to hear you call him by his pet name. It really boosted his ego up and he loved it the way you always say it. He was deeply in love with his Y/N.

You couldn't bring yourself to laugh yet, because it was kind of cute to see Jean like this and it made you want to tease him even more! “Okay but I wanna sleep alone tonight, Jean.”

‘Wait, wait, Wait! My girl is upset! Shit, what the heck did I do? STUPID JEAN’ He would think while putting his hand on his forehead, trying to think while having an existential crisis on the couch in their huge bedroom. Then he jolted up and said, “Maybe...is it because I ate the ice cream that you left for yourself??!”

‘Um, what the fuck is with this man? And what ice cream is he even talking about!’ Y/N would think as they had a confused look. They couldn't even focus on the prank anymore and were wondering which ice cream it was.

You then turned around, grabbed a pillow and was about to leave the room but Jean was hugging and holding your waist from behind, not letting them leave and he would yell out saying. “No! I won’t let you leave babe! Will you forgive me if I buy more ice cream RIGHT NOW?” Your man was more than ready to go out with his pajamas and his slippers to get you all the ice creams from the nearest corner shop.

He really was willing to do and try literally anything to get you not upset with him and sleep with him tonight, he can’t go on the night without you!

Since Jean is really upset about this prank, y/n had to make it up for him and break off the prank.

“Calm down! It’s a prank babe.” You said giggling, and rubbing his biceps (he really likes that).

He let out such a long sigh and was relieved to hear that, like this guy kept thanking the world it wasn’t because of the ice cream. “Damn it, you scared me there!! Babe, please you will end up giving me a heart attack with these pranks.” He said with such a calm tone and hugged you.

“But you know...I can’t sleep without you.” Y/n said in a soft tone and went near Jean as they put their head against his chest. “You know I love you anyways...”

There was silence, he pushed your shoulders to look at your face that was red right now. “Wait...did I hear that right.” Jean just stood there, and was taken aback by what you just said. You were a blushing mess right now, and looked away. “Nothing Babe!! Let’s go to sleep now, okay?”. You tried to hurry back to your shared bed but he held onto you from behind again.

“Say it again...you made me suffer now with your stupid prank, so you’re going to repeat it! I heard it!” He was holding you so tightly and Jean was not going to let you go until you say it again.

Y/N gets all red and shy, while Jean is just too excited and takes this to his advantage. When you said it again after he was persuading you, he grabbed your hips and picked you up and you both were on your shared bed and he kept tickling you. Love and laughter filled the room and that melted Jean. He loved seeing you laugh, smile and being happy, it meant the world to him.

He showed you and gave you so much love that night you both did not sleep that evening.

We hope you ALL enjoy and love it <3 and if you do please leave a like, reblog or you could let us know what you think about it in the comments or asks🥺💕

[elliebean714]

HELLO MY FRIEND! I hope you are doing well and had some water today!

I was wondering if you could do a request for Josh x reader x matt where it's AFTER the prank Josh pulled and Matt and Reader forgave him and were understanding like "we kinda got what we deserved"

Please and thank you

HEYYYYY!!! So this very angsty, sorry but i had too. And I decided to put reader in a similar situation to Ashley during the prank on Hannah (because i dont feel like those who were blameless would forgive him) so that they didn't have a hand in the conception of the prank like Emily and Jess, nor did they actively take part like Matt and Mike, they simply hid and watched. Also, the outcome of the night is everyone survived and Handigo didn't kill/kidnap josh in the cave... Okay letsgoooooo

No More Pranks

Josh Washington x GN!Reader x Matt Taylor

Angst With Comfort

Post-Game

The lodge was lit ablaze as Sam fliped the light switch. Josh gripped S/O's hand, unsettled by the cacophony of upsetting sounds emitting from the burning building, and terrified they'd disappear and he'd be alone in the cave again, left with the guilt and shame for all he's done tonight. But they were here, gently rubbing their thumb along his tense hand. Assuring him he was safe, with them.

"Where's Matt?" Josh asked S/O hoarsely.

As much as they wanted to comfort him, they didn't want to give him false hope.

"I don't know. Emily said they went to the fire tower together and they got separated. When she showed up at the lodge it was just her." They responded honestly. Biting their lip gently waiting as he took in the information.

"I'm sorry." Josh whispers, his breathing slowly turning to sobs. S/O opened their arms to embrace him.

"I know Joshie, I know." They kissed the top of his head.

~~

The rescue team Emily and Matt called for helped everyone onto their helicopters and gave everyone who needed it first aid. After S/O and Josh had their injuries taken care of, the couple sat in silence, mourning their boyfriend. Suddenly a bright red light and a loud bang came from one of the mine exits. The helicopter began moving towards it

"Matt?" Emily yelled in confusion.

"What?" Josh asked her.

"I thought you said he died?" S/O stared in bewilderment.

"I gave him the flare gun at the fire tower before it fell and he abandoned me." Emily explained.

The helicopter came to a sudden hault and one of the rescuers dropped a ladder for the survivors to climb.

"Jess!" Mike called out when he saw her bloodied form, "Shit Jess, I thought you died." He pulls her into a loving embrace before removing his jacket and placing it around her sensitive shoulders.

"I thought I did too." She replies, her usually positive and upbeat voice turned hoarse and dry.

It hurt everyone to see her in such a state, Josh felt even more ashamed looking at the horrific state she was left in, imagining what pain and trauma she endured. The medic begins treating her wounds as the other survivor reaches the helicopter.

"Miss me?" Matt laughs as S/O's face lights up, he notices Josh staring back at him "Josh..." Matts face was washed with relief and confusion, "Chris and Ash said you died, you were sawn in half, I, I was so scared." Matt pulled him close and cried into his neck. "How? How are you alive?"

"Can I please explain it once we get off the mountain?" Josh mumbles.

"Yeah, sure, whenever you're ready babe, I just, I'm really glad you two are okay."

~~

One by one, the group was called to the interview room to tell their story, Josh was last, and took the longest. S/O and Matt sat in silence whilst they waited for Josh.

"What happened, S/O? Why did Chris and Ash tell me and Em he was dead?" Matt broke the uncomfortable silence with the question that he had stuck on his mind for hours.

"He wanted revenge." S/O sighed.

"Oh shit..." A wave of horrified realization dawned Matts tierd, bloodied face. "So, so, so he lied to us for a whole year, made everyone come back to the mountain where his sisters went missing, traumatised every single one of us...for revenge?" His voice was rising with anger.

"We killed his sisters Matt." S/O tried to reason, "I'm mad at him too but we need to understand why."

"He said he was taking his meds, he said he was getting better." Matts anger turned to helplessness as he hid his face in his hands.

"I know Matt, I'm so sorry I didn't realise he was lying earlier, if I had, maybe I could've stopped him." S/O whispered.

"No, no, he lied to us both. He hid it so well. For a fucking year." The anger returned, "It's not your fault, not my fault. It's his fault. Don't feel bad, or guilty, it was him."

S/O felt their face begin to soak with their tears, Matt was right, they couldn't have done anything to stop him, they weren't responsible, they just needed to hear it. Matt opened his arms and scooped them into his chest.

"I love you... you know that right?" He placed a gentle kiss to their scarred forehead.

"I know, I love you too Matt." They yawned.

After waiting what felt like hours the heavy metal door to the interview room slowly opened. Josh stepped out first, followed by the interviewer, who locked the door behind him. Josh walked towards his partners.

"Hi." He mumbled.

"What is wrong with you?" Matt yelled at him, fury bubbling over.

"I'm sorry..." Josh whimpered.

"Seriously? I know you're upset but torturing us? Almost killing us? You've got a lot of nerve." Matt continues shouting.

"Matt, calm down..." S/O sighed, too tierd to fight.

"Calm down? Calm down? Who's side are you on? He tortured you too!" Matt argued.

"I know. I know, but..." S/O hesitates, looking sorrowfully into Josh's eyes, "Oh Josh..." They buried their head into his neck, "I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have done that to her. It was horrible. And I hurt you too. That was the worst thing I've ever done. I know tonight was awful but," they laughed dryly "I guess I got what I deserved.".

"I-I forgive you honey. I shouldn't have brought you guys up there. I'm sorry." Josh pauses, looking at Matt. "You're right. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I can't imagine what hell you went through last night, I'm sorry for everything babe, but you don't have to accept it."

"Maybe eventually Josh, but not for a while. Sorry." Matt states simply before quickly exiting the police station, hiding his tears at Josh and S/O's betrayal. The couple stood in silence, watching him leave.

"I'm sorry, Matt." Josh whimpered, but his apology fell on deaf ears.

Pt 2

What I Write

Requests Always Open 🦋

~Elliebean714

♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆

[wenwenbittercake]

Inuin and Y/N

(This is a normal AU where Inuin and KoKo are your best friend and Inuin have a crush on you but you like KoKo-nut more. He’s stuck between wanting to break their friendship and want to kiss you senselessly.)

Warnings:yandere contents, swearing, spicy🌶🌶

(Sorry for late posts, I just got really depressed after my recent submission got 4 likes 😫😫😫Sorry if I haven’t written your submission because it’s probably not finished yet or It’s too uncomfortable for me to write. With that, enjoy.)

“Hey Inui!”

Someone hug Inui from behind making him snap out of his daydream. He turn around from his chair to see a familiar face that create a tint of blush on his cheeks.

“Y/N why are you here this early?”

“Early? Look around you dumb ass.” KoKo said as he comes into the class.

Inui lazily look around him to see the class empty. He must had fallen asleep.

“Oh.”

“Wht do you mean “Oh”? Pack your stuff or we’re leaving you behind!”

“KoKo don’t be so harsh on Inui, he’s just tired from his part time job.”

KoKo got a frond on his face when you defend Inui. Inui on the other hand blushes while putting his things in his back.

“Oh yea? For a person who sleeps around in class of cause he’s going to work in that shabby motorcycle shop.”

“Hey.” You warn Koko. Both of you look each other and inspect Inui’s face.

Inui is used to the constant slanders and being beaten around by Koko, It’s not that he’s a bully, he’s just like that. He would apologies later about it but what he said is true. Koko is a smart kid who get all A’s in his class. He’s the brightest kid in their little friend group. So, the brightest flower catches the most beautiful butterflies, and that butterfly is you.

For the first time in his life, he craves for someone and that someone is you. He misses you 24/7. Always wanting to see your face, hear your voice and feel your touch. He even goes as far as going to your house one night after work to see you. But unfortunately, you were asleep. It doesn’t matter much when he climbs to your window to see you sleeping so soundly.

You can call him a psychopath but he’s just making sure your save by hacking into your phone and looking through all your social info and private messages.

You can call him a creep for following you around at night making sure no wolfs can catch a cute bunny like you.

You can call him a sociopath for lying to you as he only sees you as a friend when he craves to feel more of you then your hands.

He doesn’t care what you call him, he’s doing all this to keep you save form the dangerous people out there or to feed his desires.

Now you both are in a hotpot restaurant. Koko apologies to Inui by treating hotpot and BBK to both of you. All of you talk about school life, how hard to weekly test was or gossip about that one kid in class that reminds the teacher about the homework. Noting goes into Inui mind as he’s too focus on you and Koko interactions.

Koko is talking about these facts he knows of, and you listen to him with wide eyes. Then he whispers something in your ears making you blush. Inui clench his jaw seeing that. Koko looks proud that he’s getting all your attention to himself. On the other hand, Inui watch Koko and you with a sad look with a dash of jealousy.

“Oh, look who’s jealous.” All the spotlight is now on Inui making him slightly uncomfortable.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“Oh, we all know you’re the jelly one here.” He teases as you switch your seat near him.

You close your space between you and Inui, your face so close to his, a slight movement from him can make him go for a kiss. Your eyes half lid and tease him as you trace his collar with your slender fingers. Not touching him but so close to. Inui’s breath become heavy, his head even feel cloudy to the situation, both of you look at each other’s eyes with lust.

“Tell me baby.”

He just wants to push his head forward and give a deep long kiss, but Koko’s clap snaps him out of hid fantasies. You giggle and hop off Inui’s lap and go sit beside Koko.

“Koko did you see that?”

“Yes, you did a great job.” He said as he places his arms around your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Inui looks confused.

“It’s a prank! Got you!” You shout and laugh with Koko. In that moment Inui felt both embarrassed and mad. It’s definitely not your idea. Your inexperience ass would never. It gotta be Koko’s.

“You guys are dicks.” He said as he stood up a leave.

“Inui wait- “you were about to stop him when Koko pull you back in his arms.

“Leave it, he’s fine. He’s just a little embarrassed.”

That Bitch

That night Inui can’t get you out of his head. He can’t when you look so cute and sexy when you did that half lid move. The way you touch him felt so different from how you use to touch him. So soft and teasing. He tries to memorize it, but it slowly fades away. He can only remember how hot and lustful it felt. How he got hard just by your voice. He needs it again.

“Inui, I’m going to ask Y/N out.” Inui nearly chokes on his lunch.

“Wait what?”

“Yea I’m gonna ask her out.”

“Wait wait where? When.”

“Tonight, at the playground we use to go at.”

“Wait isn’t it too fast?”

“Wdym it’s fast? Look I realize my feelings for her are real and I just need to let it out. I just want you to know that.”

Inui looks shock as Koko left from the cafeteria. No way this is happening. His best friend with the girl he loves the most. He tries to think positive. Maybe it’s the best for you. Koko is perfect for you, he’s smart, he’s rich, he can fulfil everything you need. He can make you happy. But seeing you with Koko make his heart aches. The thought of how Koko can make you feel complete tortures him every bit.

The rain was pouring like there no tmr. He looks at his clock, 7:30 pm. Koko is going to ask you out at 8 and he’s here sweeping floors. What a fucking loser, he thought of himself. He looks through his phone to pass time and see your message.

Koko told me to wait at the playground we use to play. Idk why but I feel like something serious is going to happen.

I want you to come by that’s all.

It’s fine if you’re busy.

What is he doing here? Y/N needs him. He’s supposed to do whatever you desire right?

He rash out of the shop, even Drakun was shocks at the speed. He run desperately like a predator meets his prey. This is his only chance to feel honest with you. After Koko ask you out, it would be too late. You will be Koko’s. The thought of it filled him with agony.

He stops in front of the playground; his eyes scatter the play. There he finds you standing there with a yellow umbrella. He knows it your cause he bought that umbrella for you.

“Inui? What are you doing here? Omg your soaked.”

He stands in front of you, his eyes fill with desires. He feels like burning. The only thing that’s keeping him cool is the rain. He felt happy when he realizes Koko is nowhere to be found.

“Inui?” You look up to him with wide eyes.

Fuck Y/N

He pulls you in his arm and kiss you. It feels so longing. You yelp in shock giving him a chance to enter his tongue in your mouth. You panic causing your umbrella to drop. He let out all his needs, his urges with action. His fantasies are becoming a reality. Your taste, your touch, the way you whimper in his hold. It all feels so good, he’s starting to feel feverish.

The rain pours all over both of you. It feels like you’re in a movie. Actually, you’re not sure if you like Koko or Inui. You’ve spent so much time with them yet, you still don’t have a sure answer when it comes to both of them but now. You’re sure now.

You both parted from your feverish kiss, you look at each other eyes. You look at him with wide eyes, your lips swollen. You hold on Inui’s shirt, trying to not fall from your shaking knees.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just can’t take it anymore.”

“I-it’s actually fine. I kinda like you so..’’

“Wait are you serious?”

“Of cause I’m serious! What you don’t wanna take responsibility now?”

“No, it’s just- “

“Shut up and just hug me.” You hide your embarrassed face in Inui’s chest. He chuckles at your action and wrap his arms around you tightly.

“Let’s go home.”

From a far, a man with a chain earring stood silently behind trees as both love birds left. He grips his umbrella tight as he glares at Inui. The envy he’s feeling is strong enough to kill a man.

“That Bitch”

(Thank you for reading my fanfic. Also sorry if I made a mistake or it's not that good. This is my first time writing a yandere character so forgive me. 🙏🙏🙏also i'm sorry I don't put the artist name for the headline. I don't know the artist who draw it that's why. If you know, ur more than welcome to tell me. Thank you ❤🌹🙏🙏)

[dorimena]

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘

I should've been writing Bakugou’s late birthday post, but after watching the new episode a few days ago, I couldn’t help but finally confirm to myself that yes, I have a growing liking towards Kuroiro and couldn’t help myself. So, enjoy?

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; kuroiro shihei

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.6

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; afab!reader, handjob, masturbation, kuroiro’s a voyeur for you, subby!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toys mentioned, aged up character; Kuroiro is 18

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; there isn’t much Kuroiro content, as far as I managed to find here, less if it’s smut. So, here we go, hopefully I make more. I still have much to learn on how to probably correctly portray him, in other words I feel like he’s a bit ooc.

He likes to hide in the shadows, whether as a harmless prank, to travel from one place to another, but it’s mostly to just easily sneak into your dorm room at night.

Right now, though, he’s still lurking in the shadows of your room, just watching you study at such an ungodly hour, just because you were upset with him accidentally scaring you the other day. He didn’t mean to, but the damage had been done. At least you didn’t leave your dorm room light on to stop him, just sitting there, all pretty, with the desk lamp.

He has no plans leaving the comfort of the shadows yet, not with how it helps not only hide his cute, creepy smile, but to not show off how hard he is. And for what?

All because you’re wearing the shortest shorts you could ever own, and he loves how your legs look with them on; so much longer, increasing how enticing and inviting they look, whether for him to trace words of dramatized affection or leave bite marks before he pleases you to sleep.

Then again, he’s not here to woo you with poetry; he’s here to apologize, for maybe the 6th time this week, and maybe convince you to cuddle on your bed before he’d have to sneak back to his room. After all, he has been leaving you small trinkets and gifts all this time since the incident, and you’ve never really uninvited him over, simply barely acknowledging him before you whisper ‘goodnight’, as if you’d think he’d never hear.

It kind of hurt, but he couldn’t blame you, and maybe it’s time he stops trying to scare you as a form to rile you up into some ‘fun’. There are other ways, right? He can come up with another scheme to make you angry enough to maybe choke him harder, scratch him harder, maybe slap him harder?

“Y/n~” He calls out your name as melodically as possible, as if trying to act like a siren to lure you here into the darkest corner of your room. All he sees, though, is you shuddering before hunching yourself more over your desk.

You only move your head in acknowledgment, humming softly as you turn a page in your book to continue highlighting. This makes him frown, racking his brain for any remark to make you look over here, look over at him. Please.

“My beloved, look at me?” He calls again, using the pet name you enjoy hearing; but you still don’t look over.

So, being the little shit he can be, he calls you out by something he rarely does, unless he’s meticulously teasing you for something in return. A certain name he knew made you flattered but embarrassed.

“Hot stuff, look at me.”

And that has you turning around to look at his favorite corner, narrowing your eyes to catch the sight of his white eyes and teeth. To many, this would make them shit themselves, but for you, it angers you just how proud he looks.

“What did you say?”

There it is, now you’re angry and riled up. And he shudders, feeling tremors going up his body until it reaches his head. He peeks his head out, his white hair finally being seen as he hums.

“Hot stuff, but this time, come here?”

You stand, not before grumpily placing your highlighter in between the pages and pushing your chair quite the distance from your desk. Walking towards him, you cross your arms as you stand intimidatingly close, staring at him as you quietly wait for whatever poem he has prepared this time.

You’ve heard them all, wondering if he knew how you’d stop whatever you were doing to listen closely what he whispers, murmurs, sings out.

But instead, Kuroiro leaves from the shadows and pulls you into a tight hug, a hand resting on your head as he murmurs how sorry he is, how he’s come to reflect his past actions from the incident and previous ones, finally taking into consideration your feelings and possible thoughts. But not without telling you how he’ll compromise his pranks with you as it spices up your relationship from the others in the dorm. He leaves out the part about riling you up until you choke him during sex.

Even if his voice sounds so quiet, so calming in your ear, you can’t help but shift a bit in his embrace until he suddenly goes quiet, a simple hitch of his breath grabbing your attention. What happened?

“Shi?” You ask, looking at him. Whatever anger was in your system quickly drained, in fear you might’ve accidentally hurt him. And what sucks about his quirk is that you can’t ever tell when he’s blushing, but only guess with how his eyes and mouth look.

You feel him grind back- wait, what?

Somehow looking down, you come to see a tent growing in his white sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“How… curious.” You hum, placing your hands on his hips to keep him still.

“Is this new or did you come with this? Is this why you’re apologizing so directly?”

He stutters, his embrace tightening as he subtly tries pressing himself harder against you. He doesn’t deny what you’re telling him, but he also doesn’t confess it’s the truth.

You’re giggling, and even though it’s cute, like, really-cute-he-can’t-wait-to-smother-you-in-kisses, he groans at your slight teasing.

“My beloved. Don’t laugh at my predicament! I cannot help but give way to the temptation placed in front of me.”

Oh, how lovely. But he has a point. You did put on these shorts to simply rile him out of the dark instead of lurk in and around it, but clearly you were still lured in by his, uh, interesting choice of nickname.

“Why’d you call me hot stuff?”

“To get your attention, which is apparently clear to me, it very much worked.”

“You wanted my attention to deal with you or your friend?”

“Both.” Humor sounds in his voice upon your question, pressing his forehead on your shoulder as he joins in on you staring at, well, his erection.

“Well,” you start, startling him as you push him against the wall, “do you want me to talk dirty or speak Shakespearean?”

“Oh, for the love of- mmnh~”

Now, he’s not… much of a sub, not really. But he compromises so well, so nicely, that even if he is a sly motherfucker, he can also somehow weave his agreement in something through his words. Or actions, like now. You’re in command, you can do as you please, he owes it to you. Either way, he’ll still be able to ask you about choking him.

But your thigh rubbing up and down so teasingly against his crotch? Not what he expected. Since when do you start slow?

But you’re starting with that for now, wanting to milk out what you could of his sounds, his twitches, his reactions. You love it when he shivers.

“Stop teasing.” Kuroiro breathes out, letting go of the hug as his arms fall against the wall, his back and head creating a soft thud as he stares at your head. You haven’t looked up yet, but better for him. He doesn’t… want to look too creepy now, not with how he’s blending so well with the dark..

“I thought I could do what I want?”

“Yes, but- hah~ Stop that!”

“Stop what? This?”

“Interrupting me- ah fuck.”

You keep pressing yourself harder and harder against him, the speed never-changing, but it’s enough for him to already let out such airy moans and small groans. His hips are slowly lowering themselves to keep adding more pressure, moving them subtly to fasten the speed. This doesn’t skip your attention.

“You’re this turned on?”

“Can’t help it.” A soft groan leaves him as he grinds down a certain way, enough to make his knees feel a little weaker. “Needed you, days ago. Couldn’t…”

Oh? He’s embarrassed?

“Couldn’t what?”

“... make myself cum- hnn.”

You giggle again, the sound making him lay his palms flat on the wall in case he’d need to escape something embarrassing. But you know better than to tease him verbally, not wanting to make him become too shy that he’ll ignore you, whether or not you’re his lover now. He’s always been and will be such a shy boy, yet a sneaky bitch. Such duality.

You stop moving your leg and hold him as still as possible, lifting up your head to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t look or shy away.

“You’re cute, you know that? You couldn’t look me in the eyes before we dated, and now you have the audacity to come every night asking for forgiveness, but for what? Truly because you miss me, or just to get your dick wet and satisfied?”

You’re waiting for an answer, your hands diligently moving to pull down his pants slowly.

“I… I missed you, my beloved. I felt incredibly lonely. Even the moonlight that’d enter my room wouldn’t sing me the same song your humming would, or reflect such beauty you seem to radia- holy shit.”

It took what you had of self-control to not laugh: such words being interrupted by such a vulgar phrase. Good thing he’s not heavily religious, or that Ibara was around. She sometimes… worries you, with her affinity with religion.

Your hand is fondling about with his brief-clad dick, making sure the fabric seeps out the precum you could feel, but sadly not see. For some, this could be a turn off, not being able to see a dick; but for you, it just adds to the mystery, adds with how sexy you could even see Kuroiro be.

There’s no more words exchanged, not with how you’re enjoying the feeling of his hips pushing themselves to make him feel more of your hand and thigh, have you do something to add more to his pleasure. His white sweatpants are hanging around his thighs by now, his underwear soon enough being pulled down enough to follow.

A huff of ‘hurry’ leaves his mouth, leaving you confused about what the hurry is about? What happened to being patient? Or is he seriously so hung up with not being able to cum this week that he just needs to? Wait, that's actually hot.

Nodding your head, you smile up at him as one of your hands wraps itself around him and the other pressing its palm to the tip of his dick.

“I’ll be quick, just hold on, yeah?”

Nodding, his eyes immediately close when you squeeze him, your palm slowly figuring out what motion would make him moan faster.

When he moans your name out loud with the circular motion, you press a kiss on his lips before doing it again, and again, and again. Faster every time, spreading his precum around while your other hand tries to pick up into a steady pace without messing up the rhythm.

Kuroiro’s using the back of his hand to keep himself from whimpering out, moaning, huffing and groaning but not wanting to embarrass himself further with such a weak-like noise. But seeing him struggle with that issue is enough to let it go, pressing your knee between his legs and against the wall to keep yourself balanced.

Faster, faster, faster. Your hands seem to keep moving impossibly faster as the room slowly fills with wet sounds, soft thumps of his hips helping place more rhythm.

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, keeping them shut even if he feels like watching what you’re even doing with him, to him.

But instead, with his eyes closed, his brain decided to bring up what he saw a few days ago:

You didn’t even notice he snuck into your room, or bothered turning off your desk lamp as you lay shamelessly on your bed, pussy out for him to watch as you work a black dildo in you and your other hand placing a small vibrator on your clit.

And you were whining out his name so shamelessly, as if you knew he was watching. (And you did.) Again, you were fucking yourself with a black dildo, just as black as him. And that should’ve been enough for him to maybe relieve himself right then and there, or even beg for forgiveness as you grew closer and closer to your own orgasm. Fuck him, not a dildo! Or let him fuck you while you choke his dirty talk out of his throat!

Instead, Kuroiro quickly left and travelled back to his room, throwing himself on his bed as he almost ripped his pants and underwear off, fucking himself in his hands as he tries to convince himself that he’s fucking you, and even with a precum covered hand, he tried recreating how you usually choke him, claw at him, scratch him.

And he would very much like to fuck you now, but with how you’re touching him, the way your palm is grinding itself incredibly fast around his tip and your other hand furiously jacking him off, he thinks it’s not worth the idea yet. Not when he knows you’re forgiving him, somehow.

He’s about to cum anyways.

He’s trying to grab the wall, as if the darkness would be something he could grab onto like a bedsheet to keep him still, but it does nothing, just make his hands ‘melt’ into it.

His hips are chasing after your hands yet pulling itself away as his knees try not to knock into each other. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, soft sighs leaving with a small moan as an accessory.

And his eyes? He finally opens them, looking from the ceiling to then catch you staring up at him with your own smile, making his reminiscent one fade away as a whole new wave of arousal travels up his body.

Shuddering harshly, he feels his eyes cross a bit as a repeat of his earlier flashback plays, and plays, and plays. The sounds, the scene, the smell of your arousal-

“Y/n- I ahh think- close?”

“Sorry, didn’t understand that. You’re close?”

He just nods rapidly, blinking as he tries to keep his eyes opened to make eye contact, because for him, it’s sexy, it’s intimate, it’s reassuring.

He hears someone letting out weak whimpers, but he thought it was you, until he lets out a louder one and startles himself.

“Again, Shihei, again.” You moan out, feeling your underwear stick itself more to your cunt.

And if your moan of his name wasn’t enough to make him whimper your name back, he’s sure your sweet, sultry encouragement is enough to make his eyes cross once again, forcing him to close his eyes as his hungry hips just downright try fucking your hands without any shame.

He’s grunting how close he is, moans straining in his throat before being caught up in an intake of air, his whole body entering a strong tremor before small yet growing waves of them make him shiver. Without him realizing, his body’s slowly ‘melting’ into the dark, sinking into it as he groans out how he’s cumming.

You watch, taking your hands away from his dick as he spurts thin trails onto the floor, some onto his lowered sweatpants. But even once he’s done, his dick is still hard and twitching.

“What?” He’s confused. He’s not supposed to stay hard. You’ve already made him cum, but why does he feel so unsatisfied?

“M-my beloved?” He whispers, suddenly realizing how he’s more into the walls than pressing against them. Taking himself out of the dark and leaning back against the wall, he brings a hand to your face just as you grin wickedly.

“I think I ruined your orgasm.”

Well shit. Now what, you’re gonna try overstimulating him now? Well, with the way you're going on your knees and bringing him into your mouth, enough to make him wince yet moan, he’s pretty sure tonight he won’t get to fuck you.