#they are PARTNERS and that word means so much

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

the art & science of parenting 101 | jay park

✰ summary: the art & science of parenting 101 (PSY1009)— in this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child'. late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal.   what you didn't expect to be part of the deal? getting paired with jay park—the last person you'd trust to raise, well, anything. you’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  warning: sleep deprivation is guaranteed. and maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. good luck! 

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. enha members!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | e2l!au, college!au, (fake)parenting!au, he fell first, she fell harder type beat

✰ contains: mentions of parenting & parental neglect (sorta, only a smidge of like five words), crack! bc if you know me i self indulge in crack whoops, jay & y/n being opposites & school rivals, jay's annoying smirk like a million times, reader & jay are psych majors, jay's also a photographer, cheesy ass kisses, jay & reader are awkward! so awkward! there’s SO much tension . but in a cute awkward crush way

✰ wc: 20.5k [ONCE AGAIN -- this was not intentional..if you know me i just have too much fun writing sometimes & get too attached to the characters...]

✰ a/n: omg it’s finally done. tell me why it took me so long to finish, i promise i didn’t mean to but life’s been busier lately :’) aNyways! ugh i luv writing e2l!jay for some reason,,,he fits the trope so well in my eyes heh but i hope you all like him & the characters as much as i enjoyed writing them !!! as busy as i am i love indulging in my crack x enha writes :P hope u enjoy & tell me what you think <333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Welcome to PSY1009, The Art & Science of Parenting 101! Throughout the next 12 weeks, we’re going to dive deep into the wondrous world of parenting—dirty diapers and all. To kick off our course, we’re starting with our campus-famous project: raising your very own robot baby for the first half of the semester (with the help of your assigned partner, of course). Before our first class, we ask that you complete this pre-project questionnaire on your current views and opinions about parenting. No pressure—there are no right or wrong answers (maybe only judgements from your future robot offspring)!

Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What theories and methods do you believe are important to parenting? 

Y/N's Submission [8:25AM, September 18th]:

"I strongly believe that effective parenting revolves around a strict routine, which can be reinforced through the principles of operant conditioning, as developed by B.F. Skinner. Proper feeding schedules, consistent nap times, and regular development check-ins are essential—I think a structured timetable would ensure a baby's needs are met efficiently and consistently. With a set schedule and a focus on developmental milestones, I believe we can maximize a child's growth potential, even if it's just a robot baby.”

Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain out of this co-parenting experience?  

Y/N's Submission [8:29AM, September 18th]:  

"I expect to confirm that a well-organized system is the key to successful parenting. I want to test my hypothesis that if you follow a set structure, yes, even with a robot baby, things will run smoothly. I am hoping that this experience runs smoothly with no unnecessary surprises.” 

✭・.・✫

Satisfied with your answers, you click 'submit' and close your laptop, feeling a wave of satisfaction as you settle into your seat—center of the second row—as you wait for the 9AM lecture to start.  

It's 8:30AM.  

You're the only one in the room.  

Yeah, you're a little early. So what? One can never be too prepared. You've waited for this course forever, and you're determined to not only ace it (like you do with every class) but to dominate. So yes, coming early is characteristic of you, as you want to ensure you get the best seat in the classroom: center of the second row—center to get the best view of the professor's podium, and second row to be close enough to show you're engaged, but not close enough that it screams, Look at me, I'm a tryhard!  

It's clear you've come prepared. Plus, this class isn't just any ordinary elective—it's the elective to take. Only the top students majoring in psychology get in, available only through direct invite by the professor. If you were invited to PSY1009, it meant you were the crème de la crème of psychology students. The best of the best. The elite. The— 

Your train of thought is derailed when an all-too-familiar figure strolls into the room with that signature smirk. Backpack slung lazily over one (1) shoulder (as if two straps are too much effort), hair clearly still bedhead status, wearing whatever clothes he fished off The Chair (you know, the one—where all questionable, semi-clean laundry lives). 

He strolls past you—of course—and plops down right in front of you. Front row.  

Try-hard. 

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here," Jay Park spins around, a knowing look plastered on his face, eyes gleaming. "I missed seeing that frown of yours all summer." 

"What are you doing here, Jay?" You roll your eyes and scoff at his comment. "Don't tell me you got into this class. It's for serious students."  

Jay's grin only widens to your despair. "Contrary to your deeply misinformed opinion, Professor Kim actually loves me. I'm a great student."  

“I don’t believe it,” you deadpan back. “You never turn your assignments in on time, and quite frankly, I'm surprised you were even able to find this classroom."  

Jay shrugs, unfazed. "What can I say? Professor Kim doesn't just look at deadlines, she looks at talent. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?"  

You mumble something under your breath about ‘talent for procrastination’ but before he can fire back, Professor Kim walks into the room, cuing the silence of all the students who've filled up the class.  

"Good morning, class! I'm so happy to see so many familiar faces."  

Jay turns his head back towards the front of the room, as you instantly straighten up, flashing your favorite professor a smile. This is officially the fifth course you've taken with Professor Kim. It's no secret you’re one of her biggest fans—the countless early mornings you've spent waiting at your computer, finger hovering over the ‘enroll’ button the second registration opens so you can be one of the first students to sign up for her classes have proven that. Challenging but rewarding, her classes are always worth the effort. And yet, for reasons beyond your comprehension, Jay Park—Jay Freaking Park—somehow always ends up in the same classes. Every. Single. Time. It’s like a curse.  

A loud, messy, procrastinating curse…

…that just so happens to have a side profile almost as annoyingly good that it only pisses you off more. 

You wonder if he’s actually here to learn or if he’s just here to spite you. Because, honestly, the amount of classes you’ve shared with him is no longer a coincidence. Five semesters in a row? Suspicious. 

But realistically, and unfortunately, Jay does study the same major as you, which means those last five semesters? Oh, those were five long semesters of endless debates on discussion boards, in-class duels over psychological theories, and the infamous showdown for the TA position in Professor Kim's Intro to Psychology course. And the worst part? Neither of you got the job because Professor Kim—in a diplomatic twist that made zero sense to you—deemed you both 'equally qualified.' So, the job went to the third best candidate instead. Tough luck.  

You open up your laptop again, opening a perfectly organized Google Doc, ready to take notes on whatever pearls of wisdom Professor Kim is currently bestowing about your upcoming project—which, in hindsight, you should really be paying attention to. You should be. But something so ridiculous, so blood-boiling, pulls your attention elsewhere.  

Jay's desk is completely...empty. 

No laptop. No notebook. Not even a measly little pencil. Did he bring an empty backpack? Or did he just walk in here like he's casually waiting for someone to present him his grade on a silver platter? He's just sitting there like this is a casual hangout—probably expecting his robot baby to parent itself while he simply supervises (oh, how you pity the poor soul who ends up as his partner).  

Before your self-induced inner monologue spirals into complete rage, you suddenly hear your professor's voice cut through the class, breaking you out of your mental rant.  

"Y/N and Jay." 

Wait. What?

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.

You blink. You must have misheard.

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you, puppy dog eyes on display. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. 

"I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. You bring your voice down to a whisper, leaning towards him. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he has the audacity to breathe in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two. And you?  

You're screwed.

Q1 – The Art & Science of Parenting 101 aims to apply different psychological approaches to parenting. What are your current theories and methods that you believe are important to parenting? 

Jay’s Submission [10:09AM, September 18th]: 

"I think babies need more freedom to explore and make their own choices, even if that just means grabbing random things. Bowlby's attachment theory leans towards a secure attachment, but I don't think that means hovering over them 24/7. It's about being there when they really need you, not scheduling every second of the day. I also believe letting babies learn through their own experiences is key. Strict behaviorism, such as Skinner's, sounds exhausting and I don't think a rigid system is what makes a good parent. Babies are messy, and that's okay." 

Q2 – What do you expect to learn and gain from this experience? 

Jay's Submission [10:12AM, September 18th]:  

"I'm hoping to learn how to be a responsive, yet flexible parent without overcomplicating it. The goal is to find balance between being hands-on without hovering. And, I think this whole robot baby thing will teach me how to handle unpredictable situations—because no matter how much you plan, life is going to surprise you. And also, being able to say I know how to change a diaper under 30 seconds sounds pretty cool :)" 

✭・.・✫

Jay's screwed.  

Like, completely, utterly, hopelessly screwed. 

He was already kinda skeptical he’d make it past his 40s if he kept living the way he does, but now? Now, he’s not even sure he’ll survive the next 24 hours. Why? Well, today’s the first official meeting with you—as co-parents—at the campus coffee shop at 12PM sharp. 

It's 12:17PM.  

He's late.  

Seventeen whole minutes late. To your meeting. And you're basically the human embodiment of an atomic clock. You’re probably sitting there, checking your watch every few seconds, calculating his absence down to the millisecond. Jay can practically feel the murderous vibes you’re radiating from halfway across campus.  

And while Jay sometimes finds your need for punctuality weirdly endearing (but don't tell anyone that), he also values not getting scolded on a Saturday morning (12PM is still morning to him, don't judge), especially when he could be sleeping in.   

As the café comes into view, Jay considers just throwing the towel in. Maybe he could fake a sudden illness, or better yet, skip town and maybe fake his own death or something. 

There's no point. Knowing you, you'd probably hunt him down for sport.  

With a sigh, Jay pushes open the door to the café, bracing himself for impact.  

And there you are. Exactly how he imagined.  

Seated at a small table by the window, papers perfectly aligned, laptop open, and two different colored highlighters placed meticulously side by side. Your foot taps in perfect sync with the café's background music, your eyebrows knitted together in focus, and your teeth chewing your bottom lip as if you're about to crack the Krabby Patty secret formula. The window next to you allows the afternoon sunlight to spill through and reflect off of you, making you look...dare he say it...almost pretty.

If Jay wasn't fearing for his life, he might have actually stopped to admire the view. Might have.  

When Jay finally reaches your table—17 minutes and 46 seconds late (but who's counting)—you look up, meeting his gaze with a look that's somewhere between not surprised but definitely not impressed. 

"Well, well," you say, quirking your mouth up ever so slightly that Jay thinks he might see you smile for the first time in, like, ever. "Look who finally decided to join us! Must be nice living on Jay Standard Time."  

Jay flashes his usual, unbothered smile as he pulls out the chair across from you. "Oh, c'mon, Y/N. Seventeen minutes is nothing in the grand scheme of life."  

"Yeah? Tell that to our future robot baby when you're seventeen minutes late to feed it and its batteries die."  

"Yikes. That got dark quick," Jay's mutters, grin wavering. "But hey, glad to see you're finally accepting the fact that it's our future baby!"  

"Future robot baby," you peer your eyes at him from above your laptop. "Anyways, did you read the guidelines?"  

Jay rubs the back of his neck as he leans back into his chair. "Uh, define 'read'."  

Without missing a beat, you slap a packet of papers down on the table. "Here's the breakdown. Feeding schedules, emotional development tracker, diaper changes, mood swings—the whole shebang. We're going to have to approach this strategically."  

"Woah, okay," Jay's eyebrows shoot up, his brain trying to catch up with the words you just spewed at him. "First, how the heck is a robot going to develop emotionally—that's a little scary if you ask me. Like, dystopian, Black Mirror, scary. And second, since when is parenting just following a spreadsheet? Isn't part of it, you know, winging it?"  

At the words winging it, your eye twitches so violently, Jay half-expects you to reach across the table and strangle him with his own hoodie strings. 

"Winging it?" You shut your laptop and lean forward. "Winging it is exactly how we end up with a malfunctioning robot baby that starts a fire and fails us. Parenting is all about structure, consistency—"  

"—and having a little fun," Jay cuts in, mouth quirked with mischief. "I mean, what's parenting without some chaos?"  

"Chaos," you mutter, narrowing your eyes at him, "is what you bring into my life on a daily basis."  

"Yeah, and yet you secretly love it," Jay shoots back, leaning in to meet you, as if daring you to disagree.  

You stare at him, unblinking. It's either you're plotting his slow and painful demise or seriously considering what he just said. No in-between.  

And yet, somehow, Jay almost finds it endearing how you can look like the world's most innocent golden retriever while also simultaneously sending him six feet under with just one agonizing glare. Almost.  

Finally, you sigh, "This isn't a joke, Jay. This is 40% of our grade."  

"And I'm 100% ready!" Jay shoots back with a wink, to which you respond with a full-body eye roll.  

"Oh yeah? Alright, Mr. Ready-for-Anything, what's your brilliant plan?"

"Hmm," Jay leans back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head as if he's got it all figured out (he doesn't). "Well, for one, I was thinking maybe...shifts. We split responsibilities based on our schedules. I'll take the baby on certain hours, you take it other hours, and we'll spend our free days together. And if we're not together and there's a baby crisis, we stay on call." 

In complete honesty, that came from out of nowhere. Jay didn't even know any ideas were subconsciously cooking up within him until the words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized it. But there's no way he was going to tell you that, not when you don't immediately tear his idea to shreds. In fact, you actually look...impressed? 

Or so he thinks. Jay definitely needs to get better at this whole 'reading your expressions' thing.  

"Huh," you murmur to yourself, fingers tapping against the table. "That's...not the worst idea you've ever had."  

Jay feels elated. Validation? From you? Phew, this means his life is spared. Thank god.  

Jay flashes you a satisfied smile and while you don't return it, he hopes you're secretly softening. Just a little. Behind that straight face, you're probably low-key impressed, but no way are you letting him see that.  

"Don't get too excited," you say, as if you've got some sixth sense for whenever Jay throws a mental victory parade. "This is only day one. Of, like, 42. We've got a long way to go."  

"Okay, okay," Jay raises his hands in surrender, though there's no hiding the smirk on his face as he still mentally takes the win. "Message received. Let's just figure out our schedules?"  

You nod, pushing your laptop aside to make space for a sheet of paper you've already prepared—because of course you're prepared. It's like you're about to whip up some elaborate high-stakes legal contract that probably involves blood signatures.

"Okay," you say, clicking your pen, picking a bright blue that basically stabs Jay's eyes by simply existing, but whatever makes you happy, I guess. You write 'Jay's Schedule' at the top, neatly highlighting it with a pink highlighter that somehow hurts even more. Jay wonders if this is a secret ploy to blind him into submission. He wouldn't put it past you.  

"What's your typical weekly schedule like?"  

Jay squints, clearly thinking hard, as he tries to remember what a 'typical' week looks like for him. Mostly it's a mix of spontaneous decisions, power naps, and gym sessions sprinkled between classes.  

"Uh...well," Jay rubs the back of his neck. "I usually sleep in until like 11...sometimes noon, depends on the vibe, you know? Classes after that, gym a couple times a week, maybe? And, um, naps are non-negotiable. Make sure you pencil those in too."  

Your pen freezes mid-air, hovering like you're considering whether to throw it at his face or not.  

"Naps? Non-negotiable? For someone who wakes up at 11AM? We're raising a child, Jay, this requires commitment!"  

Jay raises a calm eyebrow. "Hey, sleep is very important for brain function! You wouldn't want me underperforming as a parent, right?"  

Your eye twitches. "No, Jay. That's already my biggest fear."  

But instead of escalating the snark, you bite your lip, clearly restraining yourself from unleashing a full lecture on time management. Jay struggles to stifle his own laugh at your reaction. If looks could kill, you'd have him buried under six feet of color-coded charts and to-do lists by now.  

Finally, you sigh, accepting your fate and jotting down ‘Jay’s naps: apparently crucial for survival’ in your notes with a frown drawn next to it, while Jay gives you an approving nod from across the table. 

"Alright, my turn," you flip the page over with dramatic flair, carefully writing 'Y/N's Schedule' in the same stab-your-eyes-blue and pink highlight combo as Jay mentally braces himself for what's to come.  

"So," you continue, starting with that no-nonsense tone that's clearly meant to be serious—but to Jay, there's something almost charming about how strict you are. "I wake up at 6."  

Jay's brain immediately short-circuits. Forget charming. You’re downright crazy. 

"6? As in AM? On purpose?"  

You blink back at him, as if he's the one saying something ridiculous. "Yes, Jay. On purpose."  

His mind reels, purely amazed, yet utterly horrified at the thought. 6AM? Who does that? He's seen 6AM before, sure, but only when he's stayed up all night, probably cramming for an exam. His mornings start at 10AM at best, and that's very, very rarely. There are birds chirping at 6AM. Who wants to live in a world where birds chirp you awake?  

When he doesn't respond—still in pure shock—you keep going, undeterred by his obvious existential crisis. "I usually have class at 8AM until 1PM, then I try to pick up a shift here," you gesture around the very café you two are in, "and then—"  

"Wait, wait," Jay holds up a hand, needing a mental pause button. "You work here?"  

"Yeah," you nod, like it's the most casual thing ever. "Why, is that surprising?"  

Jay squints at you. He's never considered the idea of you pulling espresso shots and dealing with caffeine-deprived college students—he's always pegged you more as a 'quiet math tutor for third-graders' type. Or maybe someone who sells cute stationery at the campus bookstore, organizing pens in rainbow order or something. But now that he's picturing it, yeah, it kind of makes sense. Maybe that's why you're so uptight all the time—too much exposure to coffee fumes. Or, more likely (and evidently), you're just an insanely busy person.  

He likes the coffee fumes theory better.  

"I guess not," he admits, then surprises even himself by adding, "that's kind of impressive, though."  

He gives you a genuine smile, and you blink back, as if searching for the hidden jab that's usually lurking beneath his words. But it's not there this time...oddly. Slowly, your expression softens, and you give him the tiniest of smiles. "Thanks? It's alright, I guess."  

It's nothing big—no, not at all—but Jay feels a weird sense of accomplishment at your reaction. Better than nothing. 

He leans in over the table, all faux-innocence—eyebrows raises, large puppy eyes and all. "Does this mean you can get me a free coffee?"  

You lean in too, mirroring him, and he's not sure why his heart skips a beat at the close proximity. 

"Yeah...no. Nice try."  

Jay groans, throwing himself back in his chair dramatically. Worth a shot.  

"Anyway," you continue, totally unfazed, "I usually work here until 5, then Mondays I have a study group for Econ 301, and club meetings scattered throughout the week."  

Jay's head spins for maybe the nth time since he's sat down. Honestly, you lost him way back at 'class until 1PM.' Your schedule is like some kind of twisted Sudoku puzzle, except much more intimidating.  

"So...you're, like, busy...all the time?" he asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as his brain tries to process how anyone can function like this.  

You give him a look that almost convinces Jay himself that he's the crazy one here. "Yes, Jay. I am."  

"Wow, okay. So why did you even take this class? What happened to being committed? You don't even have time to breathe."  

You narrow your eyes, and he swears you're about to launch into some motivational TedTalk. "It's called efficiency, Jay. Also, I like to challenge myself. That's what parenthood is about, after all."

Jay stares at you like you've just self-declared yourself a cyborg.

"Oookayyy," he drawls, dragging out the word because, honestly, he's 99% sure you've completely lost it. The remaining 1%?  

It's slightly impressed by your sheer, terrifying level of commitment. He's over here winging life, including this conversation, while you've practically mapped out the rest of your entire existence. 

"Do you even, like, sleep? Or is that optional for you?"  

You shoot him an amused glance, half-joking, half-serious. "Sleep is for the weak."  

Jay raises an eyebrow. "Good to know I'm weak, then."  

You stifle a laugh, but Jay catches the brief twitch of your lips before you quickly compose yourself. He’s known you for so long, and yet, this might be the first time he’s seen even a hint of your guard slipping. It’s subtle, barely there, but he notices. And for some reason, it makes him smile. You’re always so put together, so serious—but this small crack in your armor? Jay can’t help but appreciate it.  

Maybe, just maybe, he could get you to soften up more if he tried hard enough. And yeah, he’s definitely going to try. 

But before he can try to tease you more, you snap back into business mode, instantly scribbling down more notes. "Alright, so let’s just split the baby's care based on my work schedule and your...nap schedule, apparently."  

Jay leans back in his chair, catching that flicker of amusement in your voice—despite the serious look on your face—and he fights the urge to push a little more. There's something about that side of you—not the one behind the cold wall you've built of color-coded schedules and deadlines—that he wants to see more of. Somehow.  

"Works for me,” he shrugs and grins at you, “but if the baby's anything like me, it'll nap a lot. You might have it easy."

"And if it’s anything like me,” you mutter, barely pausing, “then it’ll easily get annoyed by you.”

Jay catches the ghost of a smile on your face, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it—which he definitely is. It’s enough to keep him intrigued. He leans forward, resting his chin in his hand like he’s watching some fascinating show. 

You don’t notice him staring—or maybe you do, but you’re too busy pretending you don’t. Either way, there’s a small, almost imperceptible shift in your body language that Jay senses. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and you don’t look like you’re mentally calculating how many minutes you have left before you can escape this meeting.

Jay decides to take advantage of the moment. “So…do you think our robot baby is also going to be a superhuman genius? Like in a you way?” 

You finally let out a laugh, to his surprise, and he feels so satisfied he has to bite his lip to hold back a smile. “Definitely, but also part crazy. Like in a you way.” 

Jay chuckles, mentally declaring this conversation a victory. Your laugh fades but for a split second, he catches you studying his face like you’re trying to figure out what his deal is. And he doesn’t mind it at all—because, for once, you’re not giving him the usual death glare that sometimes seems permanently reserved for him.

Then, just as he starts to settle into this very rare, almost… pleasant vibe between you two, you suddenly snap back to reality, capping your pen and standing up. 

Jay frowns as he watches as you turn towards the coffee bar, not ready for this conversation to end just yet.  

"Wait, where are you going?" he blurts out, sounding more tragic than intended. 

You pause, turning back with a knowing look that sends his pulse tripping.

"Do you want a free coffee or not?"  

The following Monday, at exactly 9:55AM, you and Jay are handed your robot baby—Jisoo, as Jay somehow convinces you to name it after his favorite celebrity—at the end of your class.  

You didn't even try to put up a fight. The moment Jay's eyes lit up at the idea, you knew you'd already lost. After three whole minutes of bickering and one PowerPoint titled 'Why Our Baby Deserves to be Named After Star Quality,' you realized there was no saving it. He had arguments. He had fan chants memorized. For a robot baby. Your robot baby. 

"Admit it, Jisoo has star quality," Jay beams, proudly looking down at the robotic baby in the baby carrier that came with her.  

You look from Jisoo to Jay, then back to Jisoo, unimpressed. "It's a robot, Jay. Not your bias."  

Jay just shrugs, unbothered. "Bias or not, she deserves only the best."  

He glances down at the robot, which blinks its eyes open and closed with a soft whirring noise, its chubby plastic arms flopping lifelessly by its sides.  

There's a beat of silence as you both stare down at it, unsure of what to do next.  

"It's kind of creepy, right?" you finally mutter, breaking the knowing silence between you two.  

Jay snorts. "Not even 'kind of.' A lot." He leans in to inspect it, his brows furrowed, "So, does it just…sit there?”  

You huff, already pulling out the meticulously detailed notes you took during class. "No, it's on schedule. It says here it won't eat for another three hours and it has a clean diaper, so everything should be fine. Babies are predictable once you understand their needs, Jay."  

Jay lifts an eyebrow as he turns to face you, "Right...because in real life, babies are totally like robots and are totally predictable. Got it."  

You open your mouth to respond, probably with something unnecessarily snarky (you don't know what yet though, you haven't gotten to that part yet), when a loud, high-pitched wail shatters the air, cutting through the now-empty classroom you two are in. The robot baby's face contorts into an exaggerated crying expression, its mechanical arms flailing (which you didn't even know was possible) like it's preparing for takeoff. 

"What the—" Jay instinctively jumps back like Jisoo is a grenade on her last few seconds. "Why's it doing that? What did you do?"  

"I didn’t do anything!" You snap, panic slowly rising as you flip through your notes quickly. "It's not supposed to be crying! It shouldn't be hungry, and it's definitely not tired yet!"  

The wailing intensifies, vibrating through the room as the cries echo louder and louder, Jisoo clearly not caring about your carefully crafted timeline. You glance down at your schedule. Why is it crying?  

You groan and snatch Jisoo out of the carrier, awkwardly holding her in a way that's probably not safe for any life form, real or otherwise. The wailing doesn't stop. In fact, it gets louder, as if Jisoo's personally offended by your existence.  

"Hold her!" You quickly thrust her into Jay's arms, a horrified expression written all over his face. "You deal with it."  

"Deal with what? It's a robot!" Jay stares at the baby in his arms like it's going to explode. "Oh god, are we even sure this is safe?"  

"Yes, Jay! It's a baby!" You're sure you're borderline going insane from the combination of the screeching baby and Jay's apparent lack of brain cells.  

Jay's eyes widen as Jisoo practically vibrates with the force of its cries. He tries to mimic the way you were holding her, cradling her against his chest like she's made of glass. It doesn't help. Jisoo keeps wailing, and now Jay looks genuinely distressed. 

"Uh, shh, little buddy, it's okay...Should I, like, burp it? Sing to it?"  

“Sing?” You give him a look like he’s completely lost it, but Jay’s already humming off-key under his breath. 

The baby, predictably, continues screeching. 

You both just stand there, staring at the baby, then at each other, the panic palpable in the room. Jay continues bouncing it lightly, as if this will magically solve everything. “Does it have an off switch?” he asks, glancing at you like you've parented a robot baby before. 

You continue to frantically flip through your notes, pages rustling in a blur. “No, Jay! We can’t just turn off our baby!” 

“Well, I don’t know, Y/N, but I’m pretty sure babies aren’t supposed to sound like they’re summoning a demon,” Jay retorts, his tone climbing the ladder of panic. "Maybe she's hungry or something."  

You’re still too busy scanning your notes as you shake your head in disagreement. “It can’t be hungry, it's not supposed to be!"  

Jay just shakes his head, gently cradling the baby even though he's sure it's about to lift off into space from how much it was shaking right now. 

“Sometimes you can’t schedule everything, Y/N. Maybe it just needs a bottle, like, right now.” 

The idea frustrates you. “But it’s not time yet. If we feed it off-schedule, it’ll mess everything up for the day.” 

The baby’s cries reach a shrill pitch, like it’s protesting your protest. Jay looks at you, then back at the crying baby, then back at you again. 

“I think it’s already messed up, so maybe we just... feed it?” he says, half-grinning, half-exasperated. 

You hesitate. It feels wrong. Babies are supposed to follow patterns, stick to a routine...or so you thought. You let out a frustrated sigh, your brain bleeding from the sheer sound of the glass-breaking screams.  

“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing the bottle from the supply bag. “But if this throws off the whole schedule, it’s your fault.” 

Jay grins, but there’s something softer in his expression behind it as he watches you struggle with the bottle...and your need for control. “Deal.” 

You hand the bottle to him, and he places the nipple into the baby’s mouth. The wailing stops almost instantly. The sudden silence is deafening, and both of you are stunned for a moment, looking down at the baby who’s now peacefully drinking. 

You let out a small gasp of relief and turn your head up to look at Jay, who's widened eyes meet yours.  

Jay lets out a held breath. “Well. That was traumatic.” 

You roll your eyes, though there’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips as you mutter, “I think I just lost three years of my life."  

Jay watches as you carefully take Jisoo from his arms and place her back into the carrier, making sure everything is in order. He’s still catching his breath, but he glances at you—relaxed, for once, after the panic—and it makes him feel something weird. He almost laughs. 

“I dunno,” he says, a little teasingly. “I think we handled that pretty well.” 

“Great, now just five weeks and six days of this left." You give him a look, but there’s a tiny, fleeting smile this time. "I just don't understand why it was crying. It's not supposed to need food until—"  

Jay cuts you off with a chuckle. “Y/N, it’s a baby. Real ones don’t run on algorithms. They just... cry when they need something. Like this little gal. I mean, you can't exactly schedule crying, right?” 

The silence stretches for a moment as you watch him, realization dawning a little slower than you’d like to admit. “I guess,” you mutter reluctantly, earning yourself a content-looking Jay.  

"Look at us—team effort," Jay says, as he beams a smile to you before glancing at Jisoo. "We're naturals at this whole parenting thing."  

"Yeah, okay," you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face says differently as you reach out to unnecessarily fuss with the small blanket in Jisoo's carrier.  

Jay's eyes light up at your response. "A smile? The Y/N gave me a smile? Admit it, we make a great team, huh?"  

You scoff, but the smile on your face proves there's no bite to it—Jay knows there's no bite to it.  

Maybe, just maybe, he has a point.  

You'd never admit it to him, though. 

Not yet.  

To your pleasant surprise, the past two weeks have been...weirdly smooth. Like, suspiciously smooth. You and Jay have somehow managed to fall into an actual routine—dropping off and picking up Jisoo like two semi-functional adults who almost know what they’re doing. You still wouldn’t call it 'seamless', as Jay himself struggled with having a consistent schedule for once in his life, but at least you’ve gotten through the weeks without major incidents or spontaneous combustion. 

That doesn't mean you'll admit to anyone—least of all yourself—that you and Jay might actually make a decent team. His parenting methods are still objectively abysmal...to you, at least. I mean, just the other day, he almost put Jisoo's diaper on upside down. Upside down. You didn't even know that was possible, but leave it to Jay to surprise you more and more.  

Despite his questionable approach to baby care, Jisoo's still alive (you think), and somehow you've managed not to explode at him yet (key word: yet). So, that's...something, I guess.  

Today, though. Today is a different beast entirely.  

It's Sunday, and miraculously, you've managed to give yourself the evening off. No café shift, no emergency club meetings. The stars have aligned, and for once, you have free time. And what did you decide to do with this rare gift from the universe?  

Spent it with Jay. Parenting. Together. In his apartment.  

You blame Professor Kim for this cruel twist of fate. Something about submitting photographic evidence of co-parenting. After all, this is a partner project.  

Teamwork, she called it.  

You like to call it pure suffering.  

Which brings you here, standing outside Jay's apartment with a tote bag of baby supplies on one shoulder, Jisoo's carrier on the other, and a silent prayer on your lips. If this apartment is even half the disaster you're imagining—frat house, landfill, or some unholy combination of both—you're fully prepared to turn around and run for the hills.  

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever horrors await behind the door, and knock three times.  

Precisely five seconds later, the door swings open, and...yep, there's Jay. His hair is a mess, his clothes are rumpled, and you can't tell if he's been a) napping, b) playing video games, or c) all of the above.  

"Hey," he greets you with a lazy grin, eyes half-lidded like he's still half-asleep.  

It's 6PM.  

You stare at him, deadpan. "You look like you've been hit by a truck."  

Jay snorts as he raises an eyebrow. "You should see the truck."  

Before you can fire back with something equally sarcastic, you catch a glimpse of his apartment over his shoulder, and—you blink, confused. Wait. Wait.  

Well this can't be right.  

You were expecting a disaster. Maybe a few pizza boxes, a stray sock on the floor, some suspicious stains on the couch. But no. Instead...it's clean. Like, really clean.  

The floors are spotless, there's a shelf with neatly stacked books, and are those...framed photos on the walls? Like, actual art? Your own apartment doesn't even have actual art, just print outs from Walgreens of photos you thought were cute on Pinterest and your Justin Bieber posters you got from a magazine back in high-school. Damn, now you're starting to feel ashamed.  

You do a double-take, your brain struggling to process what's happening, as Jay still stands in front of you, confused at your gawking. "Y/N? You good?"  

You snap your mouth shut, as you spot a vacuum neatly tucked in the corner of the living room. "I...I'm just surprised you even know what a vacuum is." 

"You'll learn I'm full of surprises, Miss Y/N," he says, casually leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you, his gaze making you shift in your stance in front of him. "Come on in."  

You step inside cautiously, like you're waiting for something to jump out at you—maybe a camera with someone saying 'You've been pranked, this isn't Jay's actual apartment!'  

But nope. His apartment is just...nice. It smells like eucalyptus and citrus, for crying out loud.  

You set Jisoo's carrier down on the couch, the robot itself still fast asleep, as your eyes scan the room, still half-expecting to find a hidden mess somewhere. But instead, something else catches your attention.  

On the wall, next to his kitchen, there's a collection of professional-looking photographs, all framed neatly. This is what caught your eye earlier. You find yourself slowly walking closer to get a closer look: landscapes, city stresses, a few candid shots of people—all in the same style, same camera quality, same angles. You tilt your head, intrigued.

Jay comes up behind you to see what you're looking at and you turn to him, "Are these...yours?" 

"Oh," he scratches the back of his neck, looking almost shy. "Yeah. I do some photography sometimes. Just a hobby."  

You blink up at him. Jay Park? A photographer? This was not on your Jay Park Bingo card. 

"Huh," you say, before realizing how dumb you sound. "I didn't know you were into that."  

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Y/N. Full of surprises, remember?" Jay replies, his head tilting to match yours with a cocky smile, which—ugh, okay fine—makes you feel just the tiniest bit flustered. Not that you'll admit it.  

"Oh, really?" You raise an eyebrow. "And here I thought your only hobbies were napping and showing up late." 

"That's just the surface level," he says with a wink, walking over to his coffee table and grabbing his laptop. "I was actually editing photos before you showed up." 

Intrigued, you follow him to the couch and sit beside him as he flips open the laptop. You squint at the editing software on the screen—full of layers, sliders, and all sorts of professional-looking tools that immediately make your head hurt. Jay scrolls through the images, and honestly?

They’re good. Really good. Like, if you didn’t know better, you’d think some of them could be in a magazine. And not the kind of magazine you got your Bieber Fever posters in.  

"Wow," you say, nodding, genuinely impressed. "That’s… actually really cool." 

Jay freezes, his head snapping toward you with a look of disbelief. He stares at you, eyes narrowing like you’ve just broken some unspoken rule. "It's been ten seconds...you just gave me an actual compliment without a sarcastic follow-up."  

You let out a small giggle. "Geez, you always make me sound like some soulless witch or something."  

Jay grins, leaning back in mock thought. "I mean… soulless witch might be a bit much. But, like… emotionally unavailable overlord? Maybe." 

You burst out laughing before you can stop yourself, the sound catching Jay off guard. He looks at you, wide-eyed, like he’s just witnessed a rare phenomenon. And maybe he has—because even you can’t remember the last time you laughed this freely.  

"Wow. I should annoy you more often," Jay smirks, clearly way too satisfied with himself. You’re not entirely sure if he meant it to sound that smooth, but your brain certainly processed it that way. Heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, and you quickly clear your throat, a small, flustered smile playing at your lips. 

You try to gather yourself, praying your voice doesn’t betray you. "Don’t push your luck, Park," you manage, but the teasing edge in your voice is softer than usual—way softer. And, of course, Jay knows it. You know it. You’re still smiling, and—unfortunately for you—so is he. 

Jay suddenly clears his throat as he shifts in his seat, "So...should we order like a pizza or something? Are you hungry?"  

And because the universe apparently has a personal vendetta against you, your stomach chooses that exact moment to let out a sound—one that resembles between a whale’s mating call and a frog being strangled. 

Jay stifles a laugh, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Okay… pizza it is." 

“Shut up,” you mutter, giving him a playful shove that’s just enough to make him fall back into the couch cushions. 

"No, you tell your stomach to shut up," Jay snickers, grabbing his phone to place the order. 

You’re about to fire back with something—anything—but a soft wail interrupts you from the baby carrier. 

"Someone needs attention," you say, scooping Jisoo up and cradling her in your arms. “It’s about time for her to eat anyway.” 

As you juggle Jisoo with one hand and dig through the baby bag for her fake bottle of milk with the other, Jay watches you from his spot on the couch, a curious look in his eyes. “While you feed her, I’ll take care of the pizza. I’m guessing you’re more of a plain cheese type, huh?” 

You freeze for a second, then whip your head around to give him a mock-offended look. “First, you think I’m a soulless witch, and now boring? I at least add pepperoni and sausage. Give me some credit.” 

"Okay, okay, noted," Jay lifts his hands up in surrender, "So adventurous. I'll remember that next time you call me irresponsible."  

You roll your eyes at him as you adjust Jisoo in your arms, holding the bottle steady at her mouth. It’s quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being the soft hum of your fake baby and Jay tapping on his phone. 

Suddenly Jay puts his phone down, turning to you with an unreadable expression. “You’re really serious about this whole parenting thing, huh?” 

You blink, still rocking Jisoo in your arms.  You're thrown off by the sudden shift and sincerity in his tone.  

“Well… yeah. I think it’s important, you know? Responsibility, structure… that’s what makes people feel safe. Especially kids. They need to know they’re taken care of.” 

Jay’s expression shifts as he listens, a more thoughtful look settling on his face. “You're a strong believer of that, aren't you? Structure and schedules and all that?"  

His voice is a lot quieter now, lower, and you realize you've never really had a serious conversation (that wasn't a class debate) with him before—at least not long enough to hear this version of Jay. The serious Jay. And if you're being honest, it's making you a bit flustered. You hesitate, hoping your voice doesn't crack or something equally embarrassing.  

“I mean… I guess so. I was raised that way. My parents always had everything planned out. It was like...nothing ever went wrong because there was always a system, a backup plan.” 

Jay raises an eyebrow, leaning forward a little in his seat. “But didn’t that feel, I don’t know... suffocating? Like, what if things don’t go according to plan? You can’t control everything.” 

Your first instinct is to scoff, but something stops you. It's a valid question, and for some reason, you don’t feel the need to throw up your usual defenses for once. That's new.  

“Maybe sometimes,” you admit. “But I don’t know any other way. It just feels like if you’re not prepared, things fall apart. And that’s the worst feeling—like watching everything crumble because you weren’t ready for it.” 

Jay is quiet, studying you with an intensity that feels new. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced with something more serious. “Yeah, I get that. I didn’t have a lot of structure growing up. Parents were kinda… there, but not really. I think that’s why I don’t plan much. Life happens whether you’re ready or not.” 

You blink as you sit back in your seat, absorbing his words. It’s the first time you’ve really thought about Jay outside of his 'laid-back' image of him you've had in your head, and honestly, you’re surprised by how heavy his words feel. 

“But…you’re actually good with Jisoo,” you say, almost cautiously, unsure if you’re diving into uncharted territory. “You’ve been handling this project better than I thought you would.” 

Jay laughs softly, shaking his head as he looks at Jisoo in your arms. “It’s just a robot baby, Y/N. No big deal if I mess up.” 

"It’s not just about the robot baby,” you counter, realizing you're saying more than you intended. “You actually care. You’re not graded on how well you change diapers or keep her entertained, but you’re still putting in effort. You’re trying. And that matters.” 

There's a beat of silence as you see Jay pause. For once, he doesn't have a comeback. Instead, he's just looking at you—really looking at you—like he's trying to figure something out, and you feel the heat slowly creeping back onto your face. You're sure you're turning an unflattering shade of red under his gaze on you, and part of you, no, all of you, is begging for him to say something immediately before you combust.  

Then, with a suddenness that almost makes you jump, he leans over and nudges your arm lightly. “Okay, Dr. Phil. Don't go getting all soft on me now."  

You let out a playful scoff to mask your relief, thankful for the release of tension in the air. But something about the conversation lingers in the air, hanging like a question neither of you is ready to ask. And despite the teasing, your mind can’t help but circle back to how Jay had looked at you—serious, curious… something else. 

Before you can dwell on it too long, the doorbell rings. Saved by the pizza gods. Jay springs up from the couch to answer the door, and you gently place the now-snoozing Jisoo back in her carrier. The conversation still swirls in your head as you watch Jay grab the pizza, too caught up in your thoughts to not even question how suspiciously fast it arrived. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching Jay at the door from your spot on the couch, your thoughts too heavy for someone who is literally holding a pizza box. 

For someone who sure likes to plan everything out, you definitely weren’t prepared for Jay Park—and how he's quickly becoming the exception to every rule you've ever made. 

✭・.・✫

The first thing that jars you awake is a piercing scream—Jisoo's, of course. Your eyes shoot open as you squint into the dim light, your eyes adjusting and blinking your way out of the accidental nap you fell into. You're trying to make sense of your surroundings through your blurry vision when...it hits you.  

This isn't your room. You're still at Jay's apartment, wedged into the corner of his couch, and apparently, you fell asleep. Post-pizza-food-coma style. And also apparently, your mutual robot child has decided now was a perfect time for a meltdown.  

The second thing you notice is the faint background noise of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire still playing on Jay's TV in front of you. Your memory jogs back to when you two finally came to a consensus on which movie to watch over dinner, and naturally, the deciding factor ended up being 'young Robert Pattinson,' and no, it wasn't your deciding factor. You didn't expect Jay to even have an opinion on this, but apparently, his love for Cedric Diggory is a hill he's willing to die on.  

And then... that brings us to the third thing. A sound from the other end of the couch—Jay's soft snores. You two must have dozed off at some point during the movie somehow and of course, he's still passed out cold, totally oblivious to the screams of robotic despair coming from the baby carrier seated between you two. You glance over at him, out cold with his head tilted back, looking completely unbothered by Jisoo's increasingly offended screams.  

But even through all these realizations, what really slaps you awake, more than Jisoo or Jay or Cedric Diggory, is the smell. It hits you like a rogue sock to the face, and for a moment, you're convinced that Jay definitely has some biological-grade garbage decomposing somewhere in the apartment after all. The smell is like a powerful, radioactive wave, and all you can think is, What in the world is this guy hiding in here? And why is it now coming to life?  

You sit up from your spot, still half-asleep, and follow the foul scent in horror until you realize the source.  

Jisoo.  

Sure, you have changed Jisoo's diapers plenty of times over the last two weeks, but before? There was no smell. At most, you get these weird, vaguely sticky robotic poops in her diaper that barely registered. Now? Now it’s like Professor Kim somehow remotely gave Jisoo a software update and coded her to emit a scent so pungent that it feels borderline illegal. You're convinced this is Jisoo’s final boss form–peak realism unlocked–solely just to spite you and your nostrils.

While you’re here on one end of the couch, one button away from confirming an Amazon Prime order to ship over a bottle of bleach for you to dip your nose into, Jay is still in blissful dreamland, not even flinching. You stare at him in disbelief, hoping your sheer mental outage might magically wake him up. No such luck. 

You grab the throw pillow that's wedged under you and chuck in right at his face.  

"Jay!" You're still half-asleep, so your voice comes out like a strangled whisper, somewhere between pleading and passive-aggressive murder.  

Jay jolts, sitting up with a sleepy yelp, blinking in confusion. "Huh? What happened? Is Cedric okay?" His panicked gaze darts around the room wildly before they finally settle on you, across the couch. 

"What happened?" You raise a finger to the screaming, stinky, betrayal-machine between you two. "That happened, Jay. Jisoo happened."  

Jay blinks slowly, squinting at Jisoo, his brain clearly struggling to boot up, and then makes the fatal mistake of sniffing the air. The realization suddenly dawns slowly, and you can see the look of horror hit.

"Oh my god, how is she even capable of...of that?!" His voice breaks three octaves as his hand shoots up to pinch his nose.  

"I don't know!" You squawk, equally traumatized. "She's never done this before—I didn't even know she could!"  

Jay groans and rubs his eyes, hoping this is all a bad, bad dream. No such luck, yet again. He glances around helplessly. "So, uh, who's changing her?"  

You shoot him a glare as you get up from the couch and start looking for the baby bag. "We're changing her, Jay."  

"We?" Jay winces, inching towards Jisoo with all the enthusiasm one has when approaching a radioactive waste barrel. He slowly reaches down to take Jisoo out from the carrier and he starts muttering to himself. "Great. Fine, this is fine. Just another bonding moment with our adorable robo-daughter."  

He finally picks her up, reluctantly holding her at arm's length like she's a ticking time bomb. It's so ridiculous that, despite the war-crime-level smell permeating the room, you can't help the small laugh that you let out.  

"What?" Jay glares at you, though a look of amusement tugs at his lips. "You think this is funny?"  

"No," you say, barely stifling your giggles. "It's just—you're holding her like she's about to explode."  

Jay gives you a doubtful look. "Y/N, I'm not convinced she's not about to explode."  

You shake your head, still giggling as you shuffle the carrier off the couch and lay out a blanket, turning Jay's couch surface into a makeshift changing station. "Alright, c'mon. Lay her down and hold her legs up. I'll handle clean-up duty. And maybe...brace yourself."  

Jay exhales like a man about to face his greatest fear. He gently lays Jisoo down and lifts her legs up with the tips of his fingers, his face still contorted as if you're both dealing with a toxic hazard. At this point, it probably is.  

"Oh my god," he breathes. "This is it. This is how I die."  

You crouch down in position so you're at level with the couch and say a mental prayer before you pull open the tiny diaper. The moment you do, the both of you immediately recoil as a scent that should not even be allowed to exist wafts up and fills the room.  

“Oh god.” 

The scent is so ungodly it feels like it came from the depths of hell itself and punched you both right in the face. It doesn’t just waft up–it attacks. You’re pretty sure you lost at least another three years off your life from one breath alone. 

"That's not legal," Jay chokes as he flings himself back at the sight, dropping Jisoo’s little toes in the process, flailing around as if the air itself betrayed him. "There's no way that's legal." 

You freeze in sheer horror, staring at the scene before you: Jisoo’s somehow realistic poop smeared across every surface of her bottom it possibly could spread to, the stench intensifying with every passing second.

Jay starts pacing the room, spiraling into an existential crisis. “No, no, no, this isn’t normal. This is—this is a crime scene! This can’t be right.” 

“Jay,” your voice is muffled as a hand tries to cover both your nose and mouth from the contaminated air, “focus!” 

Jay looks at you from across the living room, wide-eyed and pale, like a deer caught in headlights. “You expect me to—in this economy—” 

“Grab. The. Wipes.”

Jay groans and he stumbles back towards you, hesitantly rifling through the baby bag. His hands finally find the pack of wipes and he peers over your shoulder from behind you, as if you’re his shield. 

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to help?”

“I am helping,” Jay protests weakly, waving the pack of wipes like they’re a magic wand that might save you both.

You roll your eyes and turn back to Jisoo, “Okay, grab her legs again. I’ll wipe.” 

His eyes watch in horror as he reaches over you to take hold of the robot’s feet. With a deep breath, you start furiously scrubbing Jisoo’s little body, trying your best to breathe as minimally as possible, sticking your hand out towards Jay whenever you need a new wipe. 

“I signed up for fake parenting, not surviving a biohazard. This isn’t bonding; this is trauma,” Jay incoherently mumbles, placing a wipe in your hand. 

"I think this trauma is exactly what we're supposed to be learning and 'bonding' from," you retort, carefully tossing a soiled wipe into the designated waste bag.  

"Oh, so Professor Kim is forcing us to bond over mutual suffering? Very sweet," Jay deadpans as he hands you another wipe. 

"Exactly. Parenting at its finest."  

Finally, after you definitely lost three years of your life, the horror show is over. Jisoo is cleaned, diapered, and—somehow—actually looks peaceful for once. Like she didn't just commit a crime against humanity. 

Jay exhales, looking at her with a newfound joy. "Well. She's definitely...less terrifying when she's not screaming and emitting toxic fumes."  

You plop yourself on the couch and cradle Jisoo like she's a tiny, innocent angel instead of the cause of your collective suffering. “I’m genuinely afraid to know what they put in her system for this to happen.” 

Jay collapses onto the couch beside you, visibly relieved. "Whatever it was, we did it. We survived. We did that." 

You can't help but laugh, still a bit punch-drunk from the adrenaline and exhaustion of it all. "We better get an A+ on this project."  

Jay chuckles, leaning his head back against the couch. The room falls into a brief silence, just the two of you sitting there, basking in the weird accomplishment of it all. Then, as if on cue, you both start laughing—a deep, exhausting kind of laugh that two people only share after a 'you had to be there' type moment. There's something about the whole ordeal—how ridiculous, how hilariously awful it was—that just makes it impossible to not laugh.  

Jay grins, nudging your shoulder with his. "Now do you think we make a pretty good team?"  

You roll your eyes at him. "I don't know...depends."  

Jay raises an eyebrow, "Depends on what?"  

"Depends on whether you can make it through the rest of the project without crying again," you quip, lips twitching into an amused grin.  

Jay gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "Excuse you, I did not cry. My eyes were sweating from Jisoo's toxic fumes. A completely normal biological response, thank you very much."  

"Sure, Jay," you deadpan, shaking your head.  

"Besides," he continues, leaning back smugly, "I did all the heavy lifting. Literally. I held the live grenade."  

You snort, glancing down at Jisoo in your arms before handing her off to Jay. "You're unbelievable."  

"And you're stuck with me, partner," he grins back, rocking Jisoo in his arms. "You too, Jisoo." 

You lean back into the couch, watching Jay coo at the now-peaceful baby. Somewhere between his flair for over-the-top dramatics, his secret love for young Robert Pattinson, and (for some reason) endearing passion for photography, you realize…maybe Jay Park isn’t the complete disaster you thought he was. 

"Yeah," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I really am stuck with you."  

And for the first time since this ridiculous project started, you don't mind that as much as you thought you would.  

Jay would like to make a few things clear. 

First of all, none of this is his fault. 

He hopes you understand that, as his thumbs fly over the keyboard of his phone like his life depends on it. Because in a way, it does. 

Jay [11:32 AM]: “i swear it’s not my fault, but my friend, jake, his entire load of laundry is now the color of strawberry milk. and apparently i’m the only one that can help him. can I drop jisoo off with you for like… an hour? tops?” 

He stares at his phone, waiting for your response like you hold the key to his survival. Because, in a way, you do. 

He hears Jisoo coo from her carrier, like even she knows how dire this situation is. Finally, his phone lights up with a buzz. 

Y/N [11:33 AM]: “i’m volunteering at a dog adoption event on campus, but sure, drop her off here :)” 

Jay blinks at his phone. A dog adoption event. Of course, you'd be saving puppies on a Saturday. Of course. Like some kind of unreasonably perfect human. And here he is, about to save a fully grown man from having to wear solely pink t-shirts for the next week. Fantastic.   

With a sigh, Jay turns to Jisoo, who blinks back a stare that can only be described as the (robot) baby equivalent of good luck, bro. 

By the time Jay reaches campus, he's bombarded with the sight and sound of...dogs. Dogs everywhere. It's as if he's entered the chaotic lovechild of a Disney movie and a petting zoo, complete with wags, barks, and the smell of kibble. And then he sees you. 

You're smack in the middle of a fenced playpen, laughing, surrounded by every breed of fluffy chaos imaginable and passerbys cooing 'aww' at the sight. And what a sight it is.  

You look ridiculously happy, and for some reason, that makes something in Jay's chest feel weirdly tight. He wonders what it must feel like to be able to make you smile that widely, that brightly. It's unnerving. He's not used to seeing you so relaxed, so content—or maybe he's just not used to noticing how good you look when you're not glaring at him.  

"Y/N!" a voice calls from the volunteer tent, snapping Jay out of his daydream. Jay watches from the distance as you haul a golden retriever pup into your arms and walk over to the tent, naturally falling into conversation with your friend and immediately organizing papers. Meanwhile, Jay stands there, dumbfounded at your unbothered, graceful rhythm that you seem to fall into like second nature. 

Jay thought he had you figured out, filed neatly in his mental drawer of uptight-control-freaks-that-happen-to-smell-like-roses-and-have-perfect-smiles, but now? Something about the way you look right now—so confident, so caring, so...natural—catches him off guard.

Now, you're like some serene multitasking goddess in the middle of pure chaos.  

That brings us to the second thing Jay would like to clarify (more so to himself): he definitely doesn't think you look good in, like, an attractive sense, or anything insane like that. Absolutely not. He just is simply impressed at how you seem to manage and carry yourself quite elegantly. This is pure admiration. Admiration, okay?  

But...while he's here, staring in 'admiration', it suddenly hits him—you're not just good at taking care of Jisoo. You're good at taking care of everything.  

And that makes his heart do a weird flip.  

The realization that he's been staring for way too long jolts him back to the present. Focus, Jay. There's a Jake somewhere out there, lost in a sea of pink underwear.  

Jisoo carrier in hand, Jay manages to push his way through the dog-packed crowds until he reaches you, but the second you turn around, flashing him that wide, carefree smile that he's still not used to, he's back to stumbling over himself.  

He’s 99% sure he audibly gulps. 

“Oh, Jay, you made it!” you say, shifting the puppy to one side of your arms to free a hand to grab Jisoo's carrier immediately. Your smile is disarmingly genuine. Jay thinks he may need to sit down.  

“Uh, yeah—um, thanks for taking Jisoo," he swallows, his voice barely steady as he's unsure what this feeling is that came over him. He doesn't know if it's the fact that he's seeing you in a completely different light right now, carrying both a live, adorable puppy, and a (not-so-live) baby, but something is different, and he's at a loss for words. "You look pretty—uh…busy.”  

He curses himself. Busy? Really? 

“Oh, no biggie,” you give him an easy, encouraging grin, one so casual that it really shouldn't make his knees feel like Jell-O. "Honestly, I'd be out here every weekend if I could. But you of all people know my schedule."  

Of course, you'd say something like that. Jay tries to think of a normal response, but his brain is spinning with all sorts of not-normal things about you—like how you look so aggressively pretty right now. 

And it’s a little infuriating. 

"Yeah, no, totally," Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Because who doesn't want to be covered in dog hair and slobber for fun?"  

You roll your eyes, smiling. "Says the guy who's about to be knee-deep in a laundry crisis. Isn't that a little messy, too?"  

Jay huffs, feeling himself return just a little bit back to normal. “Listen, Jake’s a special case, okay? You can’t just leave him in that pink laundry disaster and expect him to survive.” 

"Right..," you laugh, rocking back and forth on your feet, your smile lingering as a comfortable silence falls between you.  

Maybe it's the way you're looking up at him, or the fact that a literal golden retriever is currently nuzzled into your neck, but Jay is doing everything in his power to keep his cool. You're looking at him in a way that isn't remotely judgmental (for once), and it's throwing him completely off-balance.  

Before Jay can pull it together and say something else, another voice calls your name, waving you over to a different table. You turn back to Jay, giving him an apologetic glance.  

"Do you mind watching Jisoo—and, um, this puppy—for a sec?"  

Before he can answer, or even process your words, he's standing there with an actual puppy in one arm, and Jisoo in her carrier in the other, and his life has become a circus he never auditioned for.  

"Sorry! They just need me real quick!" You say with a grateful smile as you hurry off.  

As you rush off with another apologetic smile, Jay's brain, for better or for worse, decides that grin of yours is now his mental screensaver. He watches you go, dumbly smiling before he catches himself. 

Not attraction, he reminds himself. Totally not attraction.  

He looks down at his arms—one occupied by a carrier with a robot baby, the other holding a wriggly puppy.  

"Bet no one's ever been in this situation before," he mutters, awkwardly standing there as he waits for your return. Honestly, Jay has never felt so awkward or nervous before. Right now, he feels like the epitome of the standing emoji, just simply existing and there, waiting for your next command and hoping he doesn't screw it up.  

Jay tries to hype himself up. You can do this, Park. It's just a dog. And a baby. And you.You've got this. You totally having everything und— 

Before he can finish his mental pep talk, the sound of your laughter rings from across the event, making Jay's head snap over in record time. He tries not to look—he really does—but the sound is too angelic to not. But right when he does look over, he immediately wishes he didn't. 

You're standing there between two of your friends, and you're giggling. With some guy he's never seen before. And this guy, is nudging your shoulder and making you laugh so hard you're practically doubling over. He feels a distinct twist in his chest. 

Jay’s definitely not jealous. Nope. Not even a little. It's just...curiosity. Pure, innocent curiosity about what that guy could possibly be saying to make you laugh so hard. Because Jay has never seen you laugh like that with him—ever.

And suddenly, the longer you continue laughing with that guy, Jay feels something hot and uncomfortable bubbling up inside.  

Fine, it’s jealousy.  

Definitely jealousy. He scowls at himself. Now he’s basically a bitter standing emoji, clinging to Jisoo and a puppy while glaring from afar. 

And there Jay stands, bitterness levels maxed, holding both a puppy and a robot baby, while across the way, your roommate Esther gives you a knowing smirk while you're recovering from your giggling fit. Your giggling fit which was caused by Heeseung making a comment about how he stepped in dog poop more times than the average human-being accidentally should.  

“You didn’t tell me that was Jay Park,” Esther says, trying not-so-subtly to sneak a glance at the bitter standing emoji himself, awkwardly shifting his feet in the distance, avoiding to look in your direction. “You said he was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around. You didn’t mention he’s a total cutie.” 

“He was annoying, lazy, and a pain to be around,” you scoff, though you're clearly not thinking that right now as you catch a glance of him trying to balance both the puppy and Jisoo. "But...I don't think he's so bad anymore."  

You definitely don't add that he's a total cutie. Okay, maybe you think it, but saying it out loud is a whole other thing.  

“Oh, so you totally like him,” Heeseung snickers from your other side, nudging you again.  

You make a sound that's half out-of-tune trumpet, half hiccup, before breaking into a laugh to cover your sudden panic. "No, I don't!" You clear your throat, trying to stay cool.  

"We're just—look, we're just stuck together for this project. That's all. Even if I did like him, which I don't, he definitely doesn't like me back. We're probably just going to go back to bickering with each other to no end."  

“Right,” Heeseung chimes in, giving you a look that says he's clearly unconvinced. “Just saying, though—someone who doesn’t like you wouldn’t be staring at you like that, and looking at me like I just committed a third-degree crime just for breathing in your direction."  

You follow Heeseung’s gaze and, sure enough, you catch Jay trying to look casual while bouncing the puppy and acting like he totally didn’t just get caught. Your eyes meet, and he does a 180 so fast he nearly launches Jisoo into orbit. 

You quickly turn back to your friends, heat rising to your face as you catch Esther and Heeseung giving each other a knowing look before smirking at you. You roll your eyes and grab the both of them by the back of their shirts, turning them in the direction of the event, "Okay, okay, enough with the delusions. Shouldn't you guys be signing off some puppies or something?"  

"Don't say we didn't tell you so!" Esther calls after you as you turn on your heels towards Jay, furiously convincing yourself that they're so wrong.  

There's no universe in which Jay Park, the Jay Park, would ever be into you. The Jay Park, who can get any girl he wants, the Jay Park who's just too different from you, the Jay Park who you proclaimed your school rival (self-proclaimed). Absolutely not.  

When you get back to him, Jay’s desperately trying to look natural—so, naturally, he’s scratching the puppy’s belly while Jisoo clings to his chest like a tiny koala. Your heart gives a little traitorous squeeze, but you ignore it. Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.  

“Looks like he likes you,” you say, trying to sound casual as you nod to the puppy, who's squirming excitedly under Jay's attention. 

“He’s adorable,” Jay replies, blushing faintly as he shifts the puppy around. “So, uh, everything okay over there?” he asks, totally not imagining a deep, romantic conversation to explain your laughter. 

You’re caught off-guard, blinking, wondering if Jay somehow became psychic and caught onto your previous train of thoughts about him, until you realize what he meant. “Oh! Yeah, they just… needed help with paperwork.” 

Jay’s expression hardens ever so slightly as he tries to imagine a world where paperwork could possibly be that funny. “Cool, cool,” he nods stiffly, side-eyeing Heeseung in the distance who’s still chatting with Esther. 

"Well," Jay shifts awkwardly as clears his throat, "I should get going to Jake. He's probably in tears by now, honestly."  

You frown at that, and Jay instantly self-identifies himself as the worst person on the planet. He barely resists the urge to apologize for everything he's ever done, from breathing in your direction to any other crime against humanity he's committed in your eyes.  

"Aw, come on," you say, teasingly, though even you're not sure why. It's just...fun having him around. "Stay a little longer. For the puppies!"  

Jay opens his mouth, fully ready to decline when he catches sight of your expression—those big, pleading eyes that make it impossible to say no. 

And that's it. He's doomed. Right then and there, Jay knows he's doomed.  

Is Jay currently surrounded by more puppies than he ever thought could physically exist in one place? Yes. 

Does he think your puppy eyes are somehow cuter than all the puppies combined? Annoyingly, also yes.  

And so, Jay would like to make some new things clear, for the record:  

First, there is no way any of this is his fault. If Jake ends up crying over outfit choices and demands to know why Jay ditched him for puppies, Jay has a rock-solid explanation. He’ll explain the situation, which obviously couldn’t be helped. Hanging out with you? Totally justified. Perfectly valid.  

And second, well—Jay would like to clarify that it's official now. Whatever he was feeling before? Yeah, definitely attraction.  

Your fingers drum against your blanket. You stare blankly at your bedroom ceiling. You let out another deep sigh. You toss and turn, adjusting your position for maybe the hundredth time. It's no use. You're bored.  

And that, in itself, is a shocking revelation. You're never bored. Your schedule is usually packed to the brim—between assignments, club meetings, work shifts, and impromptu Save the Puppies campaigns, there's hardly room for boredom. But today?  

Today, life has gifted you a rare stretch of free time. No assignments to finish, no midterms to study for, no dog adoption events or café shifts. And apparently, you have no idea how to handle that.  

You turn to look at Jisoo, who's chilling in her spot on your bed next to you, not having a single ounce of consciousness for you to share your boredom with.  

With another sigh, you grab your phone and scroll aimlessly through your apps. You eventually land in your Photos app and swipe through mindlessly until a recent picture stops you in your tracks.  

It's a selfie Jay took of the two of you, Jisoo sandwiched between your faces. The infamous day of the pizza-night-turned-accidental-nap-turned-godforsaken-poop-incident. You'd submitted the photo to Professor Kim as proof of your co-parenting efforts, but now, looking at it again, you can't help but smile.  

It's strange. The memory should be traumatic—okay, it is traumatic—but in hindsight, it's also...kind of fun. The chaos, the banter, the way Jay somehow managed to make everything feel less overwhelming just by being there.  

Funny enough, that day was also the last time you remember having any sort of free time, and you remember complaining that you had to spend the day with Jay of all people. But now, looking back at it, you honestly did have fun. Being with Jay was...fun.  

Your thumb hovers over the screen for a moment before it unconsciously drifts towards the Phone app. You hesitate, realizing with a jolt that you're one tap away from calling Jay. It's like your brain suddenly shut off and something took over you. What's gotten into you?  

You blink at Jay's contact on your phone, your thumb still hovering over his name.  

No. Bad idea.  

You don't need Jay to entertain you just because you're bored. You're perfectly capable of having fun on your own...obviously. Obviously, even though the last hour of groaning and ceiling-staring suggests otherwise.  

Besides, Jay's probably busy doing...whatever it is Jay does at 4PM on a Saturday. Napping, probably.  

And what would you even say? Let's hang out? Like some middle schooler asking out their crush? Not to mention, you already have your 'Jisoo' plans in two days, so it's not like you have an excuse to see him.  

You sit up abruptly, shaking your head as if to clear the fog of ridiculous thoughts. Seriously, do you even hear yourself right now? Looking for an excuse to see him? Since when did you need excuses for anything, let alone something as absurd as spending more time than necessary with Jay Park?  

This has to be some kind of stress-induced meltdown. It's the only logical explanation. All those late-night study sessions, midterm panic attacks, Jisoo diaper changes, and endless extracurriculars must've finally fried your brain. And now, here you are, teetering on the edge of reason, actually wanting to see Jay Park.  

Great. Now you have a new problem.  

Because as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, the truth is glaringly obvious: you want to see him. And that, more than any amount of free time or boredom, is the real problem. 

You've officially lost it.  

I've officially lost it, you chant in your head as your thumb hovers dangerously close to Jay's name on your screen again.  

I've officially lost it, the words grow louder, taunting you, as you hover over the call button. 

I've officially lost it, your thoughts scream as you give in, pressing down and watching in horror as your screen shifts to Calling Jay Park. 

And now, your heartbeat picks up with every ring. You can't decide what's worse—him answering or him ignoring the call. Maybe if he doesn't pick up, it'll be a sign from above that you're better off leaving his madness alone. Maybe—

"Hello?"  

Your train of thought screeches to a halt.  

"Y/N? Are you there?"  

"I'm here!" You blurt out, your voice jumping two octaves higher than usual. Real smooth, Y/N.  

"Hi...what's up? Are you okay? Is something wrong?" His voice is soft over the phone, a little concerned, like you're about to tell him Jisoo had another diaper emergency.  

You falter for a moment, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written there. "No! Nothing's wrong! I just—uh–" Quick, think of something normal!

"I was wondering what you're up to."  

"Me?" He sounds genuinely surprised, and you can practically hear the smile in this voice. At least, you think. Or, once again, you've officially lost it. "I'm at the campus gallery, setting up for my photography showcase. It's tonight."  

The campus gallery. His photography.  

You blink, this is news to you. You vaguely remember Jay asking if you could watch Jisoo tonight, and he hadn't given you a reason back then, but this is why he couldn't be on Jisoo duty today. Because of his showcase.  

"Wait, really?" You ask, hoping the interest in your voice doesn't show too much.  

"Yeah. I didn't mention it? Guess I forgot," he chuckles lightly. "It's not a big deal, just a student showcase. I'm just setting up now, making sure my pieces are hung straight and stuff."  

You swallow, a sudden wave of curiosity washing over you. You find yourself smiling to yourself, feeling a wave of endearment wash over you for some reason. The idea of Jay being completely focused and serious about a passion of his is...it's nice. It’s hard to reconcile the carefree, sarcastic guy you know with the thoughtful perspective he must have to capture the kinds of photos he does. 

"You should come by," he says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but you think you catch a small, hopeful note in it. "If you're free, I mean. No pressure."  

You hesitate, your mind racing. Go? Don't go? It's just a showcase. It's not like it means anything. Right?  

"I'll think about it," you manage, trying to sound nonchalant.  

"Cool." There's a smile in his voice again. "Let me know. I'll save you a front-row seat."  

"Front row seat? For a gallery?" You deadpan, rolling your eyes as if he can see if over the phone.  

"Hey, I'm just being a good host."  

"Hmmm," you smile to yourself again. "Maybe. We'll see."  

But your decision was made the second he suggested that you should come. 

It doesn't mean anything. Friends come support each other all the time, right? Wait—

Are you and Jay even friends? You shake your head, trying to dismiss the warmth starting to spread in your chest.  

It's just photography.

It's just Jay.

Nothing to overthink here.  

✭・.・✫

“Okay, Jisoo, in and out,” you whisper to the robot baby in the carrier that's perched in your arms as you stand frozen outside the campus gallery doors. "We're just stopping by to say hi. Two minutes max. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Nothing dramatic."  

Jisoo stares back at you, wide-eyed and unhelpfully silent, which you take as strong moral support. "Thanks, Jisoo," you mutter, like a lunatic seeking validation from a robot.  

Maybe you shouldn't even go in. It's basically the end of the event anyway—what are the odds he'd even notice you didn't show? Slim. Probably. Right?  

It's not like you didn't have a valid excuse for your lateness. You did have to change Jisoo’s diaper before you left, and that was a whole thing. But let's be real. 

The real delay? The real delay was you standing in front of your closet for a solid half hour like a contestant on America's Next Top Existential Crisis. What do you even wear to casually drop by someone's photography showcase? Something that says, Hey, I'm effortlessly supportive, but I totally don't care if you notice me (yes I do).  

Spoiler alert: that outfit does not exist.  

And then—because clearly, you love to torture yourself—you spent another thirty minutes pacing around your room trying to figure out why you cared so much in the first place.  

It's Jay. Jay. The guy who thought sticking googly eyes on Jisoo's bottle would make her drink faster. Why are you stressed? Why are your palms sweating?  

But despite all that, you somehow made it here, standing outside the gallery with your stomach doing flips like you're about to walk into your own trial. You made it all the way here, so might as well go in, right?  

You swallow hard, adjust your grip on your emotional support robot baby, and push the door open. 

And there he is.  

Center stage, right where he belongs—or at least where he seems to thrive. Standing in front of a massive wall of his framed photographs, the studio lights catch his profile just right. It's almost unfair, like he's been personally photoshopped by the gods themselves. He's surrounded by a small crowd, gesturing animatedly with his hands as he speaks, his smile so bright you're convinced it's starting to hurt your eyes.  

But his eyes? There's this sparkle in them. Not the usual playful glint you've grown used to, but something deeper, softer. You've never seen him look so alive, so utterly in his element, and it's doing weird things to your chest. 

You can't help but wonder—what does it feel like to make him look that happy? Not that it matters, obviously.

It's just a thought.

A completely useless, irrelevant, go-away-right-now kind of thought.  

If you weren't busy trying not to trip over your own feet and accidentally drop Jisoo, you might have stopped to take it all in. To admire the way he looks standing there, talking about something he clearly loves, like he's found this magical pocket of the universe where nothing else matters. Might have.  

But instead, your thoughts screech in a halt, jolting you out of your daydream.  

Abort mission. This was a terrible idea.  

Why did you come here? Why is your face hot? Can Jisoo smell fear?  

Before you can think of a single coherent reason to not turn around and bolt, Jay glances up. And he spots you.  

His eyes light up even more—if that's even physically possible. "Y/N?" He calls out, grinning widely.  

Great. Now you're here. He's happy to see you. You're standing in the middle of his gallery with a robot baby that can most definitely smell your fear.  

Fantastic. Just fantastic.  

Jay's voice cuts through your existential spiral, "Y/N!" He's waving you over as he calls out your name again, like you're a long-lost friend who's just returned from war. 

Well, to be fair, you are fighting a war—against your own dumb feelings.  

"Hey!" You croak, trying to sound casual but ending up somewhere between a dog's favorite squeaky toy and a rusty car horn. You internally flinch at your own voice.  

"Wow, you came," he says, his sweet smile still on display as you shuffle over to where he's standing. "And you brought Jisoo! My biggest fan."

He reaches out to cup Jisoo's cheeks, and you almost smack yourself in the head for feeling jealous over your own robot baby.  

"Yeah, well," you start, trying to sound nonchalant. "I figured, you know, project partners should support each other...teamwork and all that."  

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Right. Teamwork. Totally."  

You shift your weight from one leg to another, awkwardly looking up, eventually landing your eyes on the wall behind him, scanning the photos on display. Each photo is so him—a little chaotic, a little bold, but somehow...strikingly beautiful. There's a photo of a rainy city street, the light catching every droplet; a close-up of a sunflower against a brilliant sky; a candid of a kid laughing, his face tilted up toward the sun.  

You suddenly feel a weird, warm pull in your chest. It’s one thing to see Jay cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments during late-night baby meltdowns. But this? This is a side of him you’ve never seen before—one that’s thoughtful, intentional, passionate. 

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until Jay speaks up, his voice softer now. “Do you like them?” 

You blink, startled, and then nod a little too quickly. You hope he doesn't notice (he does).  

"Yeah. I mean...these are really good, Jay. You're–" you cut yourself off, realizing you're about to say something embarrassing. ''–talented," you finish lamely.  

"Thanks," Jay tilts his head, looking almost shy. "That means a lot, actually."  

His voice is so genuine that it throws you off. You weren't prepared for this level of sincerity. It makes your stomach flip in a way that's both exciting and mildly terrifying.  

Jay gestures toward the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets like he's trying not to fidget. "I wasn't sure if this was your kind of thing, thought you'd be busy and stuff, but I'm glad you came. I, uh..," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, "I was kind of hoping you would."  

Oh.  

Oh?  

OH.  

Your brain immediately short-circuits. He hoped you'd come? Like...in a we're-in-this-together-as-project-partners way, or in a please-let-this-mean-something-more-than-project-partners way? Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? Should you call someone? Should you call him? No, wait, you're already talking to him—focus! 

You clear your throat and try to channel every ounce of chill you simply do not possess. "Well," you say, attempting to keep your voice steady and failing miserably, "I'm here."  

It comes out barely louder than a whisper, and you immediately regret every life decision that's led you to this moment. But then Jay smiles—soft, something smaller, more private—and it's like the world shifts slightly off its axis.  

"Yeah," he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that makes you forget how to breathe. "You are."  

And just like that, the noise of the environment dissolves, and the rest of the world shrinks to nothing but the space between you and him. The moment feels impossibly big like it might swallow you whole, and yet so small it could shatter with the slightest breath.  

You're pretty sure you're about to combust. Explode. Turn into a human firework fueled entirely by sheer tension and whatever it is that's happening right now. God, why does he have to look at you like that? Like you're not standing here internally unraveling?  

You break eye contact to glance down at Jisoo, and you're positive she's giving you a look that screams, Stop being weird, you two.  

"Anyway!" You blurt out, desperate to break the tension. "Which one's your favorite?" You gesture to the photos, your eyes darting anywhere but his own. 

He laughs, and the sound is warm and unguarded, "C'mon, I'll show you."  

He grabs your free hand without thinking, tugging you toward the far end of the wall. And just like that, you're helplessly following him, heart racing again, wondering how the hell you got here—and why you never want to leave.  

So much for in and out.  

Jay pulls you towards the far end of the gallery, his hand wrapped around yours like it's the most natural thing in the world.  

It's not.  

Your brain is in full-blown meltdown mode. Red alerts, sirens blaring, a voice screaming, "WE'RE HOLDING HANDS, PEOPLE!"  

But there's no way you're about to let him see how much this is affecting you, so you shove the chaos down, pretending like your hand isn't currently experiencing the touch equivalent of fireworks...and hoping that it isn't sweaty.  

"This one," Jay says, stopping in front of a photo that's somehow both ordinary and magical. It's a simple shot of your campus football field, taken from the bleacher stands. You've stood in those very bleachers too many times to count—for school events, games, the occasional half-hearted attempt to pretend you like sports. But somehow, in this shot, the field looks...different.  

The grass glows like it's soaked in liquid gold under a sky caught between dusk and twilight. The field is empty, yet it doesn't feel lonely. There's something about it that Jay managed to capture—like it holds a thousand stories and secrets, quietly hopeful in its stillness.  

"It's beautiful," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can catch them. 

"Yeah," Jay lets out a breath. "It's my favorite spot on campus. I go there a lot when I need to think or just...get away a bit."  

You glance at him, startled at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Jay never strikes you as someone who gets lost in his head; he always seemed too confident, too effortlessly sure of himself. But right now, he's not looking at you—he's staring at the photo, like he's seeing something beyond it.  

"I took it on one of those days—I was just overthinking a lot about life. About who I am, I guess," he continues. "I didn't think it'd turn out good or anything, but...I don't know. It felt right."  

Your chest tightens. There's something so raw in the way he's speaking, like he's letting you see a side of him he usually keeps hidden. It makes you wonder how many other layers Jay Park has, and why it feels so important to uncover them all.  

The silence between you stretches as you watch Jay continue to study his own photograph. There's a softness in his gaze, a quiet vulnerability that makes you feel like you're seeing him a way few people ever do.  

But then he blinks, breaking the moment, and suddenly he's looking at you. You stiffen, panic bubbling up at the possibility that he might've noticed you staring at him.  

"Sorry," he says, his voice carrying a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's really cheesy and stupid."  

You find yourself shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence. "No! Not at all, really," you blurt out, the words stumbling over themselves in their rush to escape. You feel the heat creeping up your neck, mortified at your sudden intensity.  

Jay raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn't say anything, so you clear your throat and try again, softer this time. "I mean it. You have a good eye, Jay." You mean it more than you've meant anything in a while, and you hope he knows that.  

For a second, he just looks at you, like he's taking note of something, his head tilted ever so slightly. And then, slowly, his lips curve into that small, genuine smile that makes your chest feel annoyingly warm. "Thanks, Y/N."  

Your heart does a little somersault. Oh great. There it goes again.  

And as if Jisoo can sense the moment might be getting too serious, she lets out a cry. You stumble back, jump scared enough by the loud and sudden sound, and Jay reacts instantly, steadying you with his hands on your shoulders.  

"You okay?" He asks, his face so close that you can now confirm there are literal, actual flecks of gold in his eyes. Of course there are.  

You blink. I've officially lost it. Completely, utterly, hopelessly, lost it.  

You nod, your voice stuck in your throat. Am I okay? No. No, you are not okay. You are decidedly not okay.  

Jay clears his throat, stepping back—though his hands linger a beat longer than they probably need to, but still a second too short than you should probably want to. 

You want to scream into the void.  

"Looks like it's time for Jisoo's dinner," he says lightly with a small chuckle. 

You fumble for words, your brain still offline. "Uh—yeah. I left her bottle at my place, and I should probably get going anyways," you manage, your voice a little too breathless for comfort.  

Jay glances at his watch, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, something hopeful flicking in his eyes.

"I'm pretty much done here," he says, tilting his head towards the door. "It's late. Let me walk you home."  

You hesitate, torn between insisting you're perfectly fine on your own (you're not) and letting him (you want to). But the way he's looking at you—like it's no big deal, like he simply wants to—makes the decision for you.  

"Okay," you say, quieter than you mean to, and before you can second-guess yourself, Jay's already taking Jisoo's carrier from your arms, effortlessly shifting it onto his own.  

"Let's go," he says, flashing you a small smile that feels like a punch to your stomach in the best way possible.  

And just like that, you're walking side by side into the cool night air, your breaths visible in the chill, easily falling into a comfortable rhythm as you walk through the quiet campus, the streetlights above casting long shadows ahead of you. 

There’s something easy about walking with him like this. It shouldn’t feel this natural—your heart’s doing somersaults and pirouettes like it’s auditioning for a circus—but it does. You steal a glance at him, and he’s focused on the path ahead, his profile calm and soft in the glow of the lights. 

"So," Jay breaks the quiet as he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, "Can you believe the project's almost over?"  

You let out a small laugh, tilting your head. "Honestly, no. Feels like just yesterday I was praying you'd drop the class."  

Jay laughs, a sound that seems to echo in the quiet environment. "Wow, Y/N. I thought we were bonding."  

"We were," you tease, turning to him with a barely concealed smirk. "I just also thought you were going to be a disaster of a partner."  

He scoffs, giving you a mock-offended look. "I proved you wrong, right? I was amazing since day one."  

"You handed Jisoo to me like she was a bomb, Jay," you remind him, unable to stop yourself from laughing.  

"I was assessing the danger!" Jay protests, his grin widening. "And excuse me, I've stepped up. I've made bottles, I've cleaned her, I even know how to put on a diaper the right side up!"  

"Jay, the fact that you had to learn which way was right side up is concerning in itself," you manage to let out with a giggle. 

"Details, details," he waves a dismissive hand. "Point is, I'm practically father of the year."  

You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. A sharp breeze suddenly hits the both of you, and you visibly shiver from the lack of warmth your outfit provides. All that time choosing an outfit, and you still couldn't pick a weather-appropriate one. Stellar, Y/N.  

And of course, Jay notices immediately. Before you can so much as form a protest, he's shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders, your body immediately stiffening as his hands brush against you lightly in the process.  

You open your mouth to say something—anything, even just a whispered thank you—but Jay beats you to it, sparing you the effort of finding actual, coherent words. 

“So,” he says casually, like he hasn’t just sent your brain spiraling, “what do you think you’ll do when it’s over?”

"Uh," you blink, still needing a second to reorient yourself. "Sleep, for once."  

Jay laughs again. "Fair. You deserve it. But you'll miss me, right?"  

"Not even for a second," you deadpan without hesitation.  

"Liar," he teases, bumping your shoulder lightly.  

You reach your building all too soon, the doors looming in front of you like an unwelcome reminder that this walk, this moment, is about to end. You stop just before the steps and turn to face him, rocking on your heels.  

"Okay, maybe a little," you admit, shrugging. "But only because you make me look like the competent one by comparison."  

"Wow," Jay shakes his head, but there it is again. The smile—the small, amused one that makes his eyes crinkle just enough to be unfairly attractive. 

You glance up at him, wishing the walk had been just a few blocks longer. Or a few miles.  

"Well," you say finally, forcing your gaze away from his own. "Thanks for walking me. And for carrying Jisoo." 

You reach for Jisoo's carrier, and Jay hands it over without hesitation, but not before shrugging like it's no big deal.

"No problem," he says. Then, as you're adjusting the carrier on your arm, he adds, "And thanks again, Y/N. For coming tonight. It really meant a lot."  

Your heart does that stupid fluttery thing again it's been doing all night, and you're starting to think you need a medical consultation.  

"Yeah, well," you clear your throat. "Partner support, you know?" You sound dumb, Y/N. Dumb.  

Jay smirks, but there's something gentler in his expression now, a flicker of something you can't quite name. 

"Goodnight, Y/N. And goodnight, Jisoo," he says, giving a small wave to the baby carrier, making you giggle slightly.  

He takes a few steps back, his hands slipping into his pockets, and gives you one last smile before turning to walk away. But before he gets too far, something bursts out of you, unwarned.  

"Jay!"  

He stops, turning on his heels, his brows lifting in surprise. "Yeah?"  

You step forward, closing a bit of the distance between you, suddenly hyper-aware of how your voice wavers. "Um, I was wrong. You're...not all that bad." Why am I doing this? "I'm sorry if I've been...you know, intense. These past few years."  

Jay blinks at you, his surprise turning into something softer. You take a deep breath, pushing through the self-inflicted awkwardness. 

"You've been a really good partner," you add, offering a small, genuinely smile. "And well...you're pretty cool."  

His studies your face for a moment, the look longing and careful, like he's piecing together something fragile. A faint smile tugs at his lips, and there's a warmth in his expression that sends heat rushing to your cheeks.   

For a moment, the two of you just stand here, caught in the glow of the streetlamp. The world around you feels distant, like someone's hit the mute button on everything but the sound of your heartbeat.  

Jay's smile widens ever so slightly, and he nods, his voice quiet but firm. "I'll see you around, Y/N."  

He takes a few steps backward, his gaze holding yours until he finally turns and starts walking away. You watch him disappear into the night, the outline of his figure fading with the streetlights, and only then do you realize you've been holding your breath.  

As you step into your building and climb the stairs to your apartment, the night replays in your head on a loop—his laugh, his smile, his everything.  

When you finally reach your door, you lean against it for a moment, his large jacket still wrapped around you. Your thoughts crash into you all at once, and two things become alarmingly clear:  

You are completely, utterly, hopelessly in like with Jay Park.  

You're in so much trouble.  

“Congratulations, everyone!” Professor Kim clasps her hands together at the front of the classroom, a wide smile on her face. “You’ve survived six weeks of parenting. Hopefully, you’ve learned something useful—and that it hasn’t scared you off from actual parenthood one day. Each baby had a monitor tracking its status, so I’ll be extracting that data, combining it with your progress reports, and factoring it into your grade.” 

Jay leans toward you from his seat next to you, his breath warm against your ear. “That’s a little creepy…she’s going to take Jisoo apart? The poor thing.” His smirk is half-guilty, half-amused, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from laughing out loud. 

This is new. Six weeks ago, he was Mr. Front-Row Enthusiast, and sometime between then and now, you’ve somehow managed to convert him into your next-row-back partner. He’d grumbled at first when you insisted about your theory that the front row screamed try-hard, but since then, he doesn’t even glance at the seats up front anymore. 

“Grades will be out soon! I’ll see you all next week,” Professor Kim announces. “And don’t forget to submit your reflection posts!” 

The shuffle of bags and jackets fills the room as students thank her on their way out. Slowly, the lecture hall empties, until it’s just you and Jay lingering at your seats. 

“Well,” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stand. “That’s it. No more parenting lessons for us.” 

Jay heaves a dramatic sigh, his lips pulling into a pout that’s far too endearing for your peace of mind. “I can’t believe it. I already miss Jisoo.” 

You chuckle lightly but feel an odd tug in your chest. “Right? I got so used to carrying her and her baby bag everywhere. It’s weird not having her around.” 

And it is weird. You never thought you’d feel this way about a glorified hunk of plastic and wires, but now, without Jisoo, something feels…off.  

Or maybe it’s not just Jisoo. Maybe it’s the fact that this project, unexpectedly enough, turned into an excuse—a reason to spend so much time with Jay. Now that it’s over, what happens next? 

The thought hangs between you as the two of you head out of the building. The campus is alive with the hum of students, the energy buzzing around you as everyone heads to their afternoon classes. You both stop outside, standing awkwardly side by side as the silence stretches. 

No more 'Jisoo days' to plan for. No more excuses to text. No more shared tasks or inside jokes. 

Will he go back to his front-row seat, forgetting these last few weeks? Or will he—will you—pretend none of this ever happened? 

Jay shifts beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicker to yours, then away again, as if he’s waiting for you to say something first. 

“Well,” you finally say, breaking the quiet because it’s just too heavy to bear. “I have to head to my next class.” 

“Right. Yeah,” Jay says quickly, too quickly, his hands both fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. “Makes sense.” 

He hesitates, his mouth opening like he’s about to add something, but then he stops. You notice the way he’s looking at you, like there’s a thousand things he wants to say but can’t figure out how to start. You feel that familiar heat creep up your neck, the same one you tend to get whenever you’re around him nowadays.  

“Alright,” you finally say, shifting on your feet. “See you around, then?” 

Jay’s lips turn up in a small, almost longing, smile. “Yeah. See you.” 

He doesn’t move, though. Neither do you. It’s like both of you are waiting for the other to take a step away first, and the pause grows longer and longer until you can practically hear the universe screaming at you to just go already. It’s getting unbearably uncomfortable for all of us, Y/N.  

And when you finally start to turn, before you can even take three steps, his voice stops you. 

“Hey.” 

You glance back over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

Jay scratches the back of his neck, looking like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle. “Uh, you were also a really good partner. You know, with Jisoo. I mean, you were kinda terrifying at first with all your color-coded schedules and spreadsheets, but…” 

His smile softens, and his voice drops a little. “You were great. Really. I think I learned a thing or two from you.”  

Your stomach flips in a way that’s both infuriating and addictive. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your brain is short-circuiting. “Means a lot from someone who had to Google which way a diaper goes.”  

He laughs, the sound bright and warm in the cool air. “Okay, one time, Y/N. Let it go.” 

“Nope.” You grin, turning fully toward him now, your nerves settling under the familiarity of teasing. “You’ll never live it down. It’s my parting gift to you.” 

Jay presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow. I pour my heart out, and this is what I get in return?” 

“Exactly.” 

He chuckles again, shaking his head before finally stepping back, breaking the invisible bubble that’s been holding you both in place. “Alright. I’ll see you, Y/N.” 

“Bye, Jay,” you say, forcing yourself to turn and start walking away.  

You make it a few steps before you hear his voice a second time, softer this time, almost hesitant. 

“Y/N.” 

You glance back, your heart skipping a beat. 

Jay looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curve into a small, lopsided smile. “Text me when you get home later tonight, okay? After your day is done.”  

You blink, caught off guard. “What?” 

“Just…so I know you got there safe,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But the way his voice dips at the end betrays him. 

Your chest tightens in a way that officially feels dangerous. But you know you never want to get enough of this feeling.   

“Okay,” you manage to say, the word quieter than you meant, but it was the most you could muster up with the bubble stuck in your throat.  

Jay nods, his smile widening just a little. “Good.” 

And this time, when you turn away, you can’t stop the smile that sneaks onto your face. 

✭・.・✫

By the time you get home, it’s late, and the apartment is quiet. Esther is nowhere to be found—probably out with Heeseung or at the library pretending to study. You toe off your shoes and drop your bag by the door, the routine feeling strangely empty without Jisoo’s carrier on your arm and her baby bag strapped to the other.  

With a sigh, you find your way to your room and collapse onto your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. Jay’s parting words have been echoing in your head all day, barely letting you focus during the rest of your classes—“Text me when you get home.” 

You hover over your messages for a second longer than necessary, typing and deleting a draft once, then twice, then a third time, before finally hitting send: 

Y/N [8:52PM]: home safe 👍 

You stare at the screen for exactly three seconds before flinging your phone across your bed. You roll over, face buried in your pillow, half hoping he doesn’t reply so you don’t have to overanalyze the significance of a thumbs-up emoji. 

But, of course, your phone buzzes almost instantly. 

Jay [8:53PM]: good 👍 sleep well. 

A small, ridiculous smile tugs at your lips. You really shouldn’t be this giddy over such a mundane exchange, over a thumbs up emoji, but somehow, here you are. 

And that’s when you start going insane. You shoot up from your spot in bed.  

Why did he tell you to text him? Does he say that to everyone? Or was it just…you? And why does he keep looking at you like that? You’ve never been the kind of person to spiral like this, but lately, everything about Jay has you unraveling in ways you don’t know how to handle.

Clearly.  

You groan, flailing your arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Get it together, Y/N,” you mutter to yourself, but it’s no use. Every little interaction from the past six weeks replays in your head on a loop—his laughter, his stupid jokes, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp buzz from your phone. You glance over, half expecting a random notification (the other half hoping Jay double texted you) but instead, it’s the one you’ve been waiting for without realizing it: 

Professor Kim: Final grades are posted! 

Your heart leaps. Practically fumbling with your phone, you open the grading portal, scanning the page with a held breath. And there it is, staring back at you in bold letters: 

Semester Project Grade: 100% 

“YES!” you exclaim, punching the air like a successful cartoon character. You’re grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, practically bouncing in bed. It’s the kind of happiness that makes you feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t share it with someone. 

And there’s only one person you want to share it with. 

Before you know what you’re doing, your closet doors are wide open, your hands rifling through. Your hands land on his jacket—the one he lent you after the showcase—and something about it feels right. You shrug it on, ignoring the way it smells faintly like him (and comfort), and grab your keys without a second thought. 

By the time you realize what you’re doing, you’re already halfway to Jay’s apartment. It’s not like you had a plan—just this overwhelming need to see him.  

Because somehow, he’s become the first person you want to share everything with, want to experience every moment with, want to feel every feeling with, and that thought is both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  

But you’ve never been so sure of anything else before.  

Your breath hitches as you reach his familiar door, hand raised to knock. You hesitate for a moment, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this is. Who shows up at someone’s place at this hour, unannounced, just to tell them about a grade? What if he already saw it and didn’t even think twice? You look insane, Y/N. Insane.  

But then you think about the way he looked at you earlier, the way he smiled when he said “good job.” 

And you knock.  

✭・.・✫

Jay doesn’t know what’s happening. One second, he’s on his couch editing photos, and the next, someone’s trying to break down his door. At least, that’s what it sounds like. The pounding is so aggressive it makes his mug of tea tremble slightly on the table. 

Heart racing, Jay tosses his laptop aside and scans the room for a weapon. Nothing. Great. In a flash of panic, he grabs the TV remote because, sure, it’s sleek, ergonomic, and maybe intimidating in the right light. 

Bracing himself for certain doom, he yanks the door open— 

“Oh.” 

It’s you. 

At his doorstep. 

Unannounced. 

In his jacket. 

Jay flatlines. All he can do is stare at you in the oversized jacket—his oversized jacket—looking like you walked straight out of one of his dream scenarios. The rational part of him is trying to keep it together, but the feral part of his brain is screaming She’s in my clothes. Marriage now. 

You tilt your head, studying his expression. “Jay? Are you…okay?” 

He blinks, realizing he’s been standing there for a good five seconds with his mouth slightly open.  

“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Uh—what’s up?” 

“Well first, why are you wielding a TV remote like it’s a sword?” 

Jay glances down at the remote in his hand, then back at you.

“…I thought you were a robber.” 

“A robber?” you repeat, struggling not to laugh. “What kind of robber knocks?” 

“I don’t know, maybe a polite one!” 

You let out a giggle and shrug. “Fair enough. But anyway, I’m here because—did you see?” 

“See what?” He frowns, confused, and still recovering from his adrenaline rush. 

“Professor Kim posted our grades! We got a 100%!” 

Jay stares at you for a second before the words sink in. “Wait—what? We got a hundred?” 

“Yes!” You’re practically bouncing, a bright smile lighting up your face. “A perfect score, Jay!” 

He laughs and steps forward, grabbing your shoulders in his hands. “No way. We actually did it?!” 

“We did it!” You beam back, jumping up and down. “We crushed it!” 

Jay’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, but he doesn’t care. There’s something about seeing you this happy, standing in his doorway like a whirlwind of energy, that makes his chest feel way too full, too complete.  

And for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, caught up in the moment, smiling at each other like idiots. 

When the excitement dies down, Jay notices the way you’re still slightly breathless, like you’d run all the way here.  

“Wait,” he squints. “You could’ve just texted me, you know.” 

“Oh,” you shift your weight, suddenly looking a little shy. “Yeah. But I just…wanted to see you.” 

Jay blinks. His brain is once again malfunctioning.  

“Oh.”  

Oh? 

OH.  

“Yeah. So…here I am,” you add, failing miserably to conceal the wobble in your voice.  

“Here you are,” he repeats, his voice back to that soft tone that knows how to make your heart go into overdrive.  

His eyes flicker to yours and stay there as the air between you suddenly feels heavier. Charged. 

“Is that all?” Jay asks, his lips twitching into a teasing smile. 

“Uh,” you clear your throat, looking anywhere but at him. “I guess.” 

Jay leans against the doorframe, studying you with that stupidly charming smirk of his. “Well, then.” 

“Well, then,” you echo, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever encountered (spoiler: it’s not. That would be Jay’s face. But we’re not admitting that just yet). 

Neither of you moves. Not even a millimeter. The silence stretches so long that you’re pretty sure somewhere in the world, a Netflix show just autoplayed its next episode. 

Then, suddenly, Jay watches as your face cycles through the emotional Olympics: panic, resolve, regret, and whatever it is that makes your eyebrows do that cute scrunch thing he secretly loves. 

“I should go,” you say, finally breaking the silence, your voice quieter now. “Sorry for barging in like this.” 

You look down at your feet, hands still mindlessly playing with the sleeve of his jacket. Jay’s stomach twists at the sight—at the quiet, unsure way you’re suddenly retreating.  

No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t know where his bravery is coming from (he suspects it’s sheer desperation), but he refuses to let you leave like this. 

Before you can fully turn away, Jay reaches out and gently grabs your sleeve, tugging you back like you’re his favorite person in the world—which, spoiler again, you totally are. 

“Wait,” he says, pulling you close enough that you bump into his chest. Both his hands find their way to your waist, steadying you with an ease that feels practiced. Like it’s where his hands were always meant to be. 

And that's when Jay knows for sure: he likes you. He likes you bad. Painful highlighters, confusing spreadsheets, and all. He likes the way you carry your stubbornness like a badge of honor. He likes the way you chew on your pen when you're deep in thought. The way you turn his every sarcastic comment into a competition he's somehow thrilled to lose.  

“You forgot something,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low as his eyes search yours, then your lips, then your entire face.  

Your heart stumbles, your brain short-circuits, and you’re pretty sure your face is now the color of a stop sign. 

“Oh, uh, the jacket?” you stammer, looking down at where he grabbed your sleeve, grasping for any logical explanation. “You’re right. Sorry, I almost—” 

But before you can finish, Jay does something both incredibly bold and incredibly reckless. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. 

For a moment, you freeze. This isn’t real. Is this an alternate universe where Jay kisses you instead of just driving you insane? 

But then, the realization sinks in—Jay is kissing you. Like, actually kissing you. And wow. 

The first touch of his lips sends a rush through your entire body, like every nerve has suddenly woken up all at once. He’s hesitant at first, almost like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, but when you don’t—when you finally let go of all the confusion, overthinking, and denial—you lean into him, your hands both instinctively reaching up, gripping the fabric of his shirt to ground yourself as you kiss him back, now realizing how much you desperately wanted this.  

And that’s all the encouragement Jay needs.  

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his fingers brushing the hem of the jacket you’re wearing—his jacket, you remember with a strange, fluttering thrill. The kiss deepens, gentle but insistent, a slow, breathtaking unraveling of all the tension that’s been simmering between you for weeks. 

It’s like the air shifts around you, the space between you collapsing into nothing. You feel his breath, warm against your skin, and the faintest hitch in it when your hand moves up to lightly curl against the back of his neck. 

He’s so close, and everything about this moment feels right—his familiar scent, the steady warmth of his hands on your waist, the way he tilts his head slightly to meet yours like he’s memorizing the shape of you. 

Your heart pounds, the world spinning just a little too fast and too slow all at once. It’s electric, and dizzying, and somehow everything and nothing like you imagined (because, yes, you’ve imagined it—so what?). 

Jay pulls back just slightly, his forehead brushing yours as he grins, his voice a playful mumble against your lips, not wanting to break the kiss. “You can keep the jacket.” 

Your laugh bubbles out before you can stop it, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as you clutch at his arms for balance.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” 

“I’m a multi-tasker,” he replies, deadpan, his lips turning into a teasing smirk as he leans in and steals another quick kiss. He starts to pull back again, but you don't let him—your hand catches his sleeve as you dart up and chase his lips for one more peck, light and fleeting, but enough to make him smile like a fool. You're completely, utterly, hopelessly obsessed with him.  

"Besides," he adds, the words smug as his arms tighten around you, "I've already sacrificed my jacket. Might as well give up my dignity too."  

You roll your eyes, “You’re still an idiot.” 

“And yet, I’m the idiot you kissed back,” Jay fires back, brushing a strand of hair from your face.  

You shake your head, your voice soft and teasing. “You’re so—” 

The words trail off as you meet his gaze again, and before you can even think about stopping yourself, you tilt your head up, close the remaining distance between you, and kiss him first this time.  

Jay freezes for a second, caught off guard, before he fully melts into the kiss again, one hand instinctively curling around your waist to keep you as close as possible. There's no hesitation now, no teasing, no holding back—just the two of you in the quiet of his doorway, and the overwhelming certainty that neither of you wants to let this—this moment, this feeling—to end. 

When you finally pull back, Jay’s eyes are sparkling, his gaze holding an undeniable warmth. 

“You know,” he starts, voice light but tinged with something deeper, “if you keep doing that, I might start thinking you actually like me or something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, leaning in just close enough to make him squirm, your smirk playful. 

“And if you keep talking,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing, “I might change my mind.” 

Jay blinks, momentarily stunned, before letting out a breathless laugh, his arms instinctively circling your waist again, pulling you just a little closer. “Noted. Say less. I’ll shut up forever. You’re stuck with me now.” 

Stuck with Jay? As in a more-than-project-partners kind of way? 

Yeah, you think, meeting the smile he’s giving you. 

You don’t mind that idea one bit. 

✭・.・✫

Now that the six weeks of parenthood is over, we ask that you write a reflection post in response to your pre-questionnaire answers we asked you at the beginning of the project. Were your expectations met? Exceeded? Any surprises along the way?

Y/N’s Submission [11:15AM, October 30th]:

Parenting, even with a robot baby, turned out to be nothing like I expected. I’ve learned that no matter how much you plan, babies (and life) have a way of completely ignoring your carefully crafted schedules. It was frustrating at times, but it also made things…unexpectedly fun.

Speaking of unexpected—let’s just say my partnership for this project caught me completely off guard, in the best way possible. Turns out, some surprises are worth breaking the plan for :)

Jay’s Submission [11:30AM, October 30th]:

Honestly? I expected surprises, but I wasn’t ready to lose three years of my life over a diaper change—or nearly go deaf from tantrums. Safe to say, I learned the hard way that being a little prepared isn’t such a bad idea.

But here’s the thing: turns out, babies (and certain project partners) have a way of growing on you. Who knew spreadsheets and sleepless nights could actually be…kinda great? I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes the best things aren’t planned. And also, I know how to change a diaper in 30 seconds now. The right side up :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! let me know what you think °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°

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[frownyalfred]

Hi, you said "no I don't know him"/"he's my dad" and dealt me immediate psychic damage please say more words that hopefully make this better

(spoiler alert: nothing can erase the inherent tragedy of this)

the ask/prompt was about Dick and Bruce not acknowledging each other in the League, right? so kind of playing with this identity porn idea of Batman and Nightwing both being separate vigilantes working with the League with no outward, immediately obvious, or self-professed connection between them other than both being from Gotham (which might not even be something they reveal, for OpSec reasons).

Why would they choose to do this? Maybe Bruce wants to eliminate any connections between them to make it even harder to guess their secret identities. Having two pieces of the puzzle always makes it easier to solve than if you only have one.

Maybe Dick wants to be his own vigilante, separate from Batman's influence, and stand on his own with the League. Maybe he wants to put space between him and Robin, and asks Bruce not to fully acknowledge him outside of Gotham.

Maybe it's a mix of both? Or maybe it just never truly comes up, and both of them are too smart and well-trained as a default to give anything away in front of the League. Maybe the League knows that they know each other, that they've worked together before, but nothing more than that.

And what even ties Nightwing to Batman, really? Funding, the suit, the relationship to Robin, but none of those are immediately apparent. Gotham is a common denominator, but there are multiple vigilantes in most major US cities and Nightwing largely operates in Bludhaven. Training/fighting style? Also hard to identify without being in the know. Essentially, if they don't say anything to the League, how much can the average person even infer, much less notice?

So those two lines stuck out to me. In response to a well-meaning or confused League member asking if Dick knows Batman, he really only has two possible responses: "No, I don't know him" or the truth.

That there is a connection between them, and it's actually damn near sacred. He was, is, Batman's partner. He knows Bruce like almost no one else does. They're spoken about in the same breath. Or they were, once upon a time. They have mirrored beginnings, twin motivations. They fallback on each other, even when they're fighting bitterly. Dick is still who Alfred calls, when Bruce is in a self-destructive rut. And vice versa.

But what would prompt Dick to break that code of silence? I guess it depends on why it exists. And so for that second response -- "That's my dad" -- I was thinking of a situation where it was because of Dick's need to be separate from Batman. And Bruce obliges the secrecy, because it's logical and also Dick asked. But one day Bruce is injured on a mission, or hurting somehow, and the League is panicked trying to figure out what to do and Dick is right there. Batman's partner is a foot away and nobody knows. And Dick suddenly has to make a decision that is, in that instant, more easy than anything he's ever done.

"That's my dad."

[dissapointu]

u have beautiful writing and it’s honestly a talent! you’re so quick with it like hello? may u please do how arcane characters would react to having a partner who likes making handmade gifts instead of buying them? me personally i LOVE making handmade gifts because it seems more beautiful putting in work for my friends and family! honestly you’re my favorite writer on this app I’ll most definitely think about makin u a handmade gift! you’re so cool!

FIRST OFF??? YOU are the coolest person EVER and reading your message made me do a little happy dance in my chair, so thank you for THAT! 🥹 The fact that you’re out here pouring love into handmade gifts for your friends and family?? ICONIC. Handmade gifts are SO slept on, and you’re out here proving they’re the superior love language. If I could, I’d be your hype squad 24/7. (Also, i would ugly cry if you made me a gift Mamas.)

Okay, okay, let’s jump into how the Arcane characters would react to having a partner who loves making handmade gifts because spoiler: they’re all gonna be absolutely obsessed with you. Let’s GO.

———————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx would LOSE HER MIND every single time you gave her a gift. She’s such a sucker for anything you pour your heart into.

• “Wait, wait—YOU made this? For ME?” She’s staring at it with huge eyes like you just handed her a treasure map.

• She’d keep EVERYTHING you give her, no matter what it is. You could hand her a crocheted pigeon and she’d be like, “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

• She’d totally try to make something for you in return, but it’d be chaotic as hell. Like, you’d get a DIY flamethrower or something held together with duct tape and glitter.

Basically, she’s your number one fan and would brag about you constantly.

Vi

Vi is playing it cool, but deep down, she’s melting into a puddle of feelings. She’d get all quiet when you give her something and just kinda… stare at it like she can’t believe someone would put in that much effort for her.

• If you made her something wearable, like a bracelet or beanie? That thing is NEVER coming off.

• She’s not much for words, but she’d pull you into a tight hug and just whisper, “Thanks. I mean it.”

• Also, if anyone dares to make fun of your gifts, she’s throwing hands. (“What’d you say about my partner’s hand-painted mug? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”)

Sevika

Sevika would be SO caught off guard when you hand her a gift. She’s not used to people doing thoughtful stuff for her, so she’s just… staring at you, holding your gift like it’s a foreign object.

• If it’s something practical, like a leather pouch or gloves? She’s putting them to use immediately. And trust, she’ll let everyone know her partner made them.

• If it’s something sentimental? She’s keeping it tucked away somewhere safe, but you’ll catch her looking at it when she thinks you’re not watching.

She’s a little rough around the edges, but trust me, she cherishes EVERY handmade thing you give her.

Silco

Silco would be SO intrigued by the concept of handmade gifts. Like, he’s trying to figure out why you’d put in so much effort instead of just buying something. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s because you care about him. And yeah, that hits him right in his cold, scheming heart.

• Something elegant or functional, like a pen case or a decorative box? He’s putting it on his desk like it belongs in a museum.

• Something more emotional, like a portrait of him and Jinx? He’ll treasure it forever but keep it private—it’s too precious for the world to see.

You’ve officially cracked the Silco Code: thoughtful effort = instant softie.

Vander

Vander is 100% DAD MODE ACTIVATED every time you give him something. He’s smiling so big it hurts, just standing there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something for the bar, like a new sign or decoration? He’s putting it up immediately and making everyone compliment it.

• More personal gifts, like a knitted scarf? He’s rocking it every single day, even if it’s summer.

• He’d also love hearing about your process, sitting there with his tea like, “Tell me about this one. What inspired you?” Big golden retriever vibes, honestly.

Ekko

Ekko would be OBSESSED with your gifts. Like, you’ve unlocked a whole new love language for him.

• If you made him something for the Firelights, like a custom mask or patch? He’s adding it to his gear immediately. “Look at this! My partner made it. Isn’t it sick?”

• If it’s something sentimental, he’d carry it around like a good luck charm. It could be the tiniest trinket, and he’d be like, “This? This is everything.”

• He’d also 100% try to make something for you in return. Now you’ve got matching handmade energy, and everyone is jealous of your vibes.

Jayce

Jayce would be SO touched by your gifts. This man is a golden retriever in human form, so every time you give him something, he’s beaming like you just made his whole week.

• If it’s something for his lab, like a personalized toolbox? He’s showing it off to Viktor like, “Look what my partner made. Aren’t they amazing?”

• Something sentimental, like a framed photo or painting? He’s hanging it in his house and telling EVERYONE about it.

Jayce is basically your personal hype squad, and he’s never gonna stop appreciating your creativity.

Viktor

Viktor would be SO soft about your gifts. Like, he’s not used to people going out of their way for him, so when you hand him something, he’s just sitting there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something practical, like a custom notebook for his designs, he’s using it every day and thinking of you while he works.

• Sentimental gifts, like a sketch or keepsake? He’s keeping them close, tucked away in a spot where he can see them when he needs a boost.

You’d inspire him to start tinkering on something special just for you. Now you’ve got your own Viktor Original™.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be SO charmed by your gifts. She’s used to fancy, expensive things, but the effort and love you put into your handmade stuff? That’s what gets her.

• Make her something practical, like gloves or a scarf? She’s wearing them CONSTANTLY and bragging to everyone.

• If it’s more sentimental, like a personal letter or drawing? She’s keeping it somewhere safe and rereading it when she misses you.

Caitlyn loves thoughtful gestures, so you’re basically her dream partner. Period.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be absolutely enchanted by your gifts. She’s surrounded by luxury, but your handmade work feels so much more personal.

• Something elegant, like jewelry or an intricate painting? She’s showing it off at council meetings like it’s priceless.

• Something heartfelt? She’s keeping it in her private quarters where she can admire it when she’s alone.

Mel would also encourage you to turn your craft into a business because she believes in your talent 100%.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be IMPRESSED. She’s a practical person, so if you make her something functional, like a knife sheath or leather gear, she’s putting it to use immediately.

• If it’s sentimental, she’d keep it hidden, but trust—it means a lot to her.

She’d respect your dedication and probably compare you to a warrior. “It takes discipline to create something with your own hands.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger would be THRILLED. He LOVES creativity, and your handmade gifts would light up his world.

• If you made him something clever or whimsical, he’s showing it off to everyone in Piltover. “Look what my partner made! Aren’t they brilliant?”

• Sentimental stuff? He’s putting it in his workshop where he can admire it while he tinkers.

He’d also want to collaborate on a project with you because you’re basically his new favorite inventor.

Salo

Okay, Salo would be one of those people who doesn’t know how to react at first, but you’d totally catch him staring at your gift later, all soft and thoughtful.

• If you made him something like a carved figurine or a small keepsake, he’d keep it in his pocket for good luck and touch it when he’s thinking about you.

• He wouldn’t be super showy about it, but you’d KNOW it meant a lot to him when he said something lowkey like, “You didn’t have to, but… thanks. This is nice.”

• Deep down, he’d be so touched that you took the time to make something just for him. Handmade gifts just hit different for someone like Salo, who appreciates quiet, meaningful gestures.

Scar

Scar is giving CHAOTIC, “OMG YOU MADE THIS??” energy every single time. Like, no matter what it is, he’s holding it up like you just gifted him the crown jewels.

• If you made him something goofy, like a silly little knitted hat or a bracelet, he’s rocking it IMMEDIATELY. “Look at this! My partner made it! Aren’t they the best?”

• He’d totally try to “help” you make stuff sometimes, but he’d just end up making a mess and laughing about it the whole time.

• Scar is your ultimate hype man, always gassing you up and telling everyone how talented you are. You could hand him a macaroni necklace, and he’d be like, “Masterpiece. Absolute masterpiece.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is secretly the softest bean about your handmade gifts. Like, she’d be a little shy at first when you gave her something, but you’d catch her smiling at it later when she thought you weren’t looking.

• If you made her something practical, like a cozy scarf or a cute notebook, she’d use it all the time and feel so warm and fuzzy knowing it came from you.

• Sentimental gifts? She’s absolutely treasuring them forever. She’d keep them somewhere special, like her desk or bedside table, and glance at them whenever she’s missing you.

• Maddie would totally ask about your process too, like, “How did you even come up with this? It’s amazing.” She’s so supportive, and your gifts would mean the world to her.

Lest

Lest would be absolutely ENCHANTED by your handmade gifts. Like, she’d hold them so gently, as if she’s afraid of breaking something so precious.

• If you made her something elegant or delicate, like a hand-painted vase or a piece of embroidery, she’d treat it like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

• Lest would also love the thought and care behind your gifts. She’s the type to listen closely when you explain how you made something, nodding along with genuine interest.

• You’d totally catch her showing off your gifts to her friends, like, “My partner made this. Isn’t it beautiful?” She’d treasure everything you give her, no matter how big or small.

And that’s it! TL;DR: YOU are a gift, and every Arcane character would feel insanely lucky to have someone as thoughtful and creative as you. Keep being amazing, bestie. 💜

[khaosophist]

Hmmm...

Because we let ourselves be affected by pinups so much, the motivating words seem to get injected better...

Then again, I've always wanted to have our deeper conversations with significance to happen alongside our partner while we feel powerful emotions because of their presence. But we interpret the moment more than the words. Like the fact she did X is motivating and kind, rather than whether our conversation was significant.

Maybe our language of thought is more visual. Which is why we find it important to wear, or have things with meaning. In any case, the most powerful sound we remember is the tinkling of our wife's fertility bell...

The words seem to remove the loneliness we usually feel when scrolling through so much artwork that represent what we find beautiful.

I need a hug...*Sigh*

But a hug usually has no words...or I'm busy hugging to really take in whatever our partner would say. How many loving words has she given us, and in the depths of our stupidity, we heard nothing of it but platitudes? Is everydayness our fault?

Back to the same question if we make time a prison, or whether time does imprison...at the very least our actions are always brought back to light...always going to work. Always paying bills...

For someone that has no plans for life, we sure do seem like someone following someone else's plans...but then...

Anyways...

Yeah. Amazing.

🩵 Governor Waffles 🩵

[biancadoes1]

I am so hyped for Luke! I love sci-fi thrillers and I have a good feeling this is only the beginning of his new projects. That being said I find it REALLY strange how much attention the fandom gives adjacent social media but then flat out ignores VERY interesting Luke and Nicola activities. Like Luke liking that guiness merch post despite NOT following the account but Nicola was tagged in the comments by her friend Jack; she didn’t even like the post if I’m correct or at least hadn’t at the time Luke liked it 🥹. Then we have Luke reposting Netflix insta of Colin meme but the one RIGHT before Wordle In Two (a direct Nicola reference from her Emmys night) and despite he wasn’t tagged in it either. The October 3rd Mean Girls Polin meme which was something Lukola used to do together on twitter. The BRB at the airport and then Nicola posting being on a plane shortly after when BOTH Nicola and Luke have not posted about traveling while at the airport itself. That one I feel like was HUGE and feels way more than a bit coincidental. The “people really want me to marry Luke” TIME magazine article. Oh and I’m sorry almost FORGOT the part where Nicola was announced for an audiobook about two Costars leads who characters are together in a period drama and then end up falling IN LOVE in real life! Like all of these things when you look at them are pointing in a certain direction of Lukola being together but somehow there’s just more weight put on other things that aren’t from Luke and Nicola? Not to also mention Nicola making an effort to scrub her tags associating her and JD as romantic partners. Yeah I mean we’re all speculating of course but just seems so weird to me that any Lukola positive signs get swept under the rug but the tiniest adjacent post is analyzed with a microscope lol. That being said I love your blog and appreciate you highlighting the actual people involved in the Lukola ship; Luke and Nicola lol.

Literally any thing pertaining to Luke and Nicola either together or separate is just tossed out the window the moment certain people show they're online.

It's mad annoying. It needs to stop.

Also, thank you anon for your kind words. I truly appreciate it 😊

[aurynsia]

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me…” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[noellefan101]

Silent Living

Characters: Noelle, Kinich, Lynette, Beidou, Diluc x mute GN!reader

Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: mute reader, most of them dont know sign language but there are people where i think they would either have learned it already or will learn it for you, gn reader as always

Note: hehe its kinda hard to write for Noelle tbh, i just can't see her romantically if that makes sense, its like a platonic obsession i have for her. but i chose to write for some girlies bc i felt like it, luv you :P

Noelle

She's a sweetheart and i fully believe she would try to learn sign language the day you meet for the first time. but for the sake of the cute gestures lets pretend she barely knows any words in it, or that you arent the best yourself despite probably needing it heh.

(she would teach you some if so, or learn with you)

In a classic Noelle fashion, she does literally anything for you, though people would normally just have to speak her name, you can't. so she always keeps an extra eye on you to ensure she's there when you need her help. that may be a given, but its truly what shes best at doing.

Loves writing little notes for you, whether its just so you can remember something or if its to invite you anywhere, she loves it. and she has definitely not been carrying pen and paper with her for weeks so you could write notes for each other, no no.

I dont imagine her being the best with words, but is always very good at comforting. so if you need some reassurance or just comfort you can come to her. and you can let her know to be silent by putting a finger over her mouth if you like the silence more. she wont be offended don't worry.

Kinich

Not very good with words and likes silence when possible, so it's very common for you to sit in silence doing an activity together. he's best with actions at least, both giving and receiving, so just doing a tiny chore for him would mean more than words could.

Though it may be difficult to do anything for each other since he's quite busy, and so could you be. but he always has time to sit with you for at least 30 minutes a day and just spend quality time together.

if you ever need anything from him, he has a notebook on him at all times that you're free to write in. Although Ajaw has made a fuss about it being annoying to wait for you, but he'll shut up if Kinich locks him up.

Lynette

She loves the silence you bring. being around her brother all the time can get annoying, no matter how much she loves him, so a quiet tea time with you is often just what she needs. she knows you can feel out of place or left out even since you cant communicate as easily with her siblings. but she is always ready to talk for you.

No matter how much she hates public speaking, and how often she gets her brother to speak for her, she'll speak for you. if there's anything you'd like to say, just write it down and show it to her. she might even know what you wanted to say, by how you stand and how your muscles move. so she will sometimes speak for you before you even get to start writing it down.

She has made sure you're a part of the conversation, not just there and looking around. she might have some knowledge about sign language, but she knows many do not and makes sure everyone understands you.

(she might even ask father if they can get classes in sign language, or at least the siblings of hers that you interact with most often)

Beidou

Maybe not the best at silent communication, but she tries her very best. if she doesnt know sign language she'll learn it, mostly because she feels it would make you more comfortable, but its also something that she may find interesting.

She is very good at dealing with different kinds of people though, so expect yourself to feel right at home wherever you are on her ship. she might even have started teaching her crew how to talk with you properly, whether thats getting you something write down on or learning them a bit of sign language that im not sure of.

Unfortunately it all goes in weird directions when she's drunk, while she talks for you it might be hard to get her to pay attention enough or even speak your thoughts properly. Kazuha is your savior in this case.

Diluc

He has made sure every single maid and anyone he hires learn to speak through their hands. he might even have prepared for it before you started dating, and even some of his staff you have never met before just knows how to speak with you.

Its a given that you're going to be well treated at the dawn winery, but Diluc makes sure you feel the most at home you'll ever experience. you have at least 1 maid whos ready to tend to you in a seconds notice, whether its jsut that you need something to write on or you need to know where you lover is.

Will literally drop anything for you with just a finger on his shoulder. whatever you need, he'll do it. need a hug? no need to even gesture it he knows, someone doesnt understand you at all? he's ready to talk in your place for hours on end.

I might have written it weirdly again sry, im not mute and i just like writing, Luv Ya- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[rebelssvy]

obsessed part two

bokuto x reader

(afab. this is the most comfortable i write in. i try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible and not give any description of the reader. lmk how i can do betterrrrrr)

- authors note: you guys really liked part one. so abt to write a SINFUL part two ☺️☺️☺️

part one -link here!

LABELS: smut omg smut. i’ve never written anything smut so don’t judge pls 😩😩contains, making out, oral sex, sex.

walking to school the next day was a pain. bokutos mind was filled with the guilt of what had happened last night.

he jerked off to the girl in his class, who he still has yet to talk to.

ashamed was an understatement. he was embarrassed and felt inhumane. it was even worse because the problem still hadn’t gone away. he still thought of you in the worst ways. he couldn’t help himself.

closing the distance between him and his class room, his eyes narrowed in on you. the guilt was overwhelming. but you looked so cute in your uniform.

entering the classroom he groaned to himself. sitting down at his assigned desk, putting his hands over his face to try to hide his frustration.

he just liked you so much that it was truly embarrassing. he was bokuto koutarou! one of the top aces in high school volleyball. no girl should have his attention like this.

i am not a man, he thought to himself, hands still covering his face.

“ahem…” he looked up at the person trying to get his attention.

to his absolute shock, you were standing right infront of his desk.

“hi…” you said to him waiting for a response…. the response never came as bokuto just looked up at you mouth agape.

“i didn’t know you were so shy!haha” you try playing off to make it less awkward. his silence seemed to be maybe a message for you to just walk away. and yet you stayed begging for his presence.

“well i’m yn, and i didn’t know if you noticed but we have a partner project in this class…. and we were paired up yesterday…. and before i could figure out a plan with you, you walked out of class before i could talk to you yesterday.” you felt yourself ramble on for what seemed like far to long. his silence was draining.

from what you heard from most people, your schools ace was a huge standout. most calling him extroverted, crazy and annoying.

but right now he sat infront of you saying not a word.

finally he spoke up “oh..” he said. that’s literally all he said.

you stayed for a little longer, watching his face grow into a friendly smile.

“it’s nice to meet you yn! i’m so sorry i didn’t even realize we had an assignment together!! HAHA well don’t worry we can get it figured out. also sorry about yesterday i just rushed off to practice without a second thought” bokutos voice boomed throughout the class room.

you let out a sigh of relief. maybe he was just waking up still? but he sure does seem awake now..

“we can only work on the assignment out side of the school hours…. if your comfortable with it you can come over to my house tonight and we can work on it.” you say smiling down at him.

bokutos prayers have been answered. everything he has ever worked for is being rewarded back to him now.

“yes.!” bokuto replied without hesitation. smile still beaming up at her.

“here’s my number, text me after this class gets out.” you say to him. stealing his phone and saving your contact in his phone. you were a little forward. bokuto was practically gushing.

with that you walked back to your desk and started talking with your friends.

bokuto was so happy he could scream.

the day went on, after you two had agreed on a set time for him to arrive at your house he was counting down the minutes.

he would have to come over after he practiced, meaning he would also have to go home to shower before hand.

it gave you more time to get ready before he made it to your house.

secretly, you had been honing a crush on bokuto for awhile now. when your teacher announced that you two would be in a group together you were thrilled. but when you looked over to bokuto, he seemed… upset.

his face was hard to read. it was a mix of tired, guilt, and anger. you chose to not introduce yourself to him until class was out, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. but before you could he had already left.

that’s why you were so nervous. he was so big, not just tall. that man was beefy. in all the right ways. and you couldn’t even tell if he liked you at all.

of course you would glance at him time to time in class, even showing up to some of his games in previous years. you noticed him.

analyzing yourself in your mirror. checking the time ever so often.

you had taken a shower, got out of the shower and did all your duties to look the best you could. sporting yourself in a way you were most confident.

also going to the measure of cleaning your room. everything had to be perfect.

before you new it your doorbell rang. you rushed to the door, opening to a freshly washed bokuto.

he had on grey sweats and a black hoodie. his hair was still a little damp from his shower, so it wasn’t spiked up in its usual manner. his bangs clung to his forehead.

“heeeLLO” he said to you voice getting a little louder as his word continued.

“hi” you said to him while still looking him up and down. it was a little obvious you were checking him out.

you quickly let him in and gave him a tour of your home. making a mental note to leave your bedroom for last. making a b- line for your kitchen you offered him somthing to drink.

his presence alone was enough. he was just soo huge. you felt his gaze after every corner you took.

“uh yes water is fine.” he said, way more calm.

you got him a glass and sat on your counter top. he was infront of you leaning his back on your cabinet.

as he drank he held a comfortable eye contact with you.

“how was practice?” you spoke up.

he reached forward and put his glass next to you, then leaned back to his formal position.

“i did way better then i did yesterday i can say that much.” he said with a chuckle. his voice was low. deep.

“what happened yesterday?” you asked.

he seemed a little taken back from your question. but it was only a second of that expression that was followed with a smile.

“oh i just didn’t do my best. my teammates say i get in my own head sometimes but even my worst is not that bad soo” he said with a low chuckle again. his grin never really left his face.

he was confident in himself that was forsure. you thought you should atleast see where you stand with him. gathering up all the confidence you had to flirt with him just a tinyyy bit.

“oh so you must be gooood.” you say leaning forward a little, still perched on your counter top. you made sure you arch your back a little, even though he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. you applied the action anyways.

bokutos ears perked up a little. he sure did love flattery.

“i mean, yeah. i’m pretty good.” he said non chalantly. leaning forward a little more as well.

“tell me bokuto, how good are you?” you asked. leaning just as much as you could without falling off the counter top.

“oh i’m pretty good. but i can’t tell you how good i am… it’s something you have to experience yourself.” he said, smug. grin still on his face.

as he spoke he had stopped leaning against your counter top.

he got closer to you, your heart beat picked up. he then picked up his hand, reaching out.

just as you thought he was going to touch you, he picked up his glass beside you. blushing your thigh in the action.

he picked up his glass and finished the rest of his water with a gulp.

smug bastard. you thought to yourself.

you then got back onto your feet and started walking out of the kitchen. bokuto taking that as his note to follow behind you.

you silently led him to your room. anticipating whatever came next.

as you waked bokuto stared. he stared at your ass, your hips, your waist. anything he could look at he took a mental picture of.

this could be the only time he was this close to you. he thought.

opening the door to your room you, you showed him around.

“you can sit anywhere your comfortable with, but i did get an extra chair for you at my desk.” you say to him. going and taking a seat next to the school work you had already laid out.

bokuto was taking in everything. your posters, your decorations, anything you had in their he was saving in a file in his brain.

he finally sat down next to you.

you started going over the project, he would follow your words with some “hmm” or “ook” but overall he didn’t seem very into it.

all bokuto could think about is you stuffed full of his cock. really it was a shame. you were talking to him and that’s all he could think about. he watched your lips as they instructed him. that’s all he really watched.

“bokuto.” you said in a firm voice.

“are you even listening?” you said to him slightly annoyed.

“uhh yea…” he replied guilt sinking in once again.

he was evil. he wanted you. he felt as if you had just teased him in the kitchen too. he wanted to get you back. bad.

he licked his lips. confidence surging through him for a second. he opened his mouth to say somthing.

but the words never came. blush flooded his face. you probably think he’s stupid at this point.

“you are so pretty.” he said quickly. it came out of nowhere. he didn’t even mean to say it. he was so embarrassed!

but there was no way you were gonna know how embarrassed he is. no, bokuto koutaro never gets embarrassed!

you stare back at him. confused. but to all honestly. you were aching for him. his frame so close to yours, made you painfully aware of how big he was.

and he just called you pretty. what even in your next move! what are you supposed to say to that!

“y/n…” he said quietly. it was soft. he had gotten closer to you then you realized. you could feel his breath on your lips.

“bokuto…” you whispered back to him. the distance was painful.

before you could register he had his lips on yours. closing the gap. you locked your lips with his. it was just a quick kiss. romantic if anything.

you two pulled away. staring him in the eyes, there was a hunger.

“i need more” he said before grabbing you cheeks and closing the distance again. you were shocked. this must be a dream.

your hands found his body. scooting as close as you could without falling off your chair. one of your hands found his bicep. the other on his shoulder.

the kisses grew hungrier. his pace picked up. you gasped when his hand found your thigh. it was a comfortable position.

he took this chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. you purrred against him.

your touches grew with sexual tension. you parted for a second to catch your breath. a line of saliva connecting you two.

“c’mere” he said scooting his chair back alittle. signaling you to get out of your chair.

you stood up waiting further instruction.

he reached up and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. he was still seated, legs apart.

you felt like you were on fire. his eyes took in all off you. his hands rubbed your hips. even going a little farther to pinch at the fat of your ass.

“wanna sit on my lap?” he said tilting his head to the side. you shook your head and slowly made your way to his lap. you were positioned so you could face him.

his hands cradled you, finding your curves.

“you think i’m pretty?” you said to him bringing your hands to his jaw.

“you have no idea.” he breathed out.

finding his lips again except the tension in the room was now thick. you were growing a pool in your panties. every touch of his fingers was doing numbers to your core.

without knowing it you slowly started to grind yourself against him. you only noticed when you felt bokuto grow underneath you. his hands moved to your ass. grabbing at it.

then his hands slowly fell even farther. coming concerningly close to your core.

“y/n…. can i…?” he parted quickly. out of breath begging you for more.

“yes bokuto.” you moaned out to him. still grinding your hips against him.

“do whatever you want” you moaned out throwing your head back. you were growing needy.

without any words bokuto grabbed you and picked you up. putting you down on the bed.

your back was on the bed with your legs folded to your chest. he had ahold of your shins.

he was standing above you grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

“i’ve been waiting for this.” he stated.

his fingers graced over your core, you sucked in breath.

“you have?” you whimpered out.

“i have liked you for quite sometime. i have even dreamt of doing somthing like this too you. y/n… you have no idea.” he said while taking off your pants. you were left in only your underwear. then he started working on your shirt, pulling it off over your head.

now being left only in your bra you felt very conscious of everything.

“fuck…” he said to himself seeing you drenched through your panties. this was truly his dream.

“can i?” he said before continuing.

you shook your head yes.

he touched your clothed core with a certain grace. seeming like he was afraid to hurt you. you moaned out at his touch.

your ass was almost off the bed when he slowly came to the ground squatting on two knees.

you soon realized what he wanted to do.

“bo… you don’t have too” you said painfully, when al you really wanted was his tongue on your cunt.

“i want to.” he said before stuffing his face into your core.

you still had your panties on but the friction was just too much. you moaned out back arching for him.

he was hooked. he circled anything he could with his tongue, even taking breaks to kiss your stomach. he finally took your underwear off.

staring at your naked core he was in love. he wanted to be the only man to ever see you like this.

experimentally he blew on it, seeing your body react and you moan out. he loved his life.

diving back into you he licked all of you. slurping up your juices, sucking at your clit. taking every angle he could to make you feel good.

“more…” you whimpered out.

he brought his fingers up to your hole without warning. he played with our rimming a finger around your clenched spot. sticking it in you he stucked on your clit simultaneously.

you moaned out. it was really too much. your core was building up at a fast rate as his finger pumped in and out of you.

he stoped and stood infront of you again. you looked up at him wondering why he had to hault your pleasure.

he took off his hoodie and sweats leaving himself in just his boxers.

and oh. my. god. he was wonderful. he was everything you could ever dream.

“bokuto… i need you.” you told him.

he was on fire right now. you were sprawled out on the bed, cunt for his to see.

“fuck… you drive me insane.” he said pulling his boxers down to free his length.

“oh my god” you moaned out. it was huge. there was no way that was going to inside you. his one finger did the job, so what is that thing even going to do to you.

“cmon baby you can take me.” he said lying down next to you on the bed. you crouch up on your knees.

“ride me.” he demanded.

you positioned yourself on top of him. grabbing at his his abs as you mentally prepped yourself for what was gonna be inside you.

slowly you reach down for his cock. he had already been stroking it.

you touch it and he lets in a sharp gasp of air. you give it a good couple pumps

“hah” he moaned out. you had kept eye contact the hold time you entered him in you.

lowering yourself as best you can. his face was of euphoria.

“bokuto… your tooooo big hah” you moaned out to him.

“call me koutarou” he gasped out.

you found the strength to get him in you. bottoming out you clenched around him.

“fuuuck kou” you moaned out. you started grinding yourself against him.

it was the best pain you had ever felt.

“your beautiful. oh my god.” he said as his hands found your boobs.

pulling your bra down and bringing his lips to your hardened nipples.

your back arched for him. you moaned out louder and louder.

bouncing against him. this was all he ever wanted. he was in heaven.

you felt that familiar coil in your core tighten up again.

and bokuto could tell. he felt your walls clench around him as your threw your head back.

before he could think about it he changed positions. throwing you on your back and into a missionary position.

he took it to himself to start pounding into you.

“kou… nnnits too muchhch” you moaned out. it was almost hard to hear because of the sound your pussy was making.

“cmon. you can take it” he grunted out, slamming himself into you.

you moaned more. eye contact the whole time he fucked you.

the way you clenched around him was almost painful. but he could tell you were close.

he brought his fingers to your sensitive bud.

“cum for me. come on baby you can do it.” he grunted.

“come on my cock.” he grunted even more.

you were so close.

“your mine, understand?”

that sent you have the edge. you clamped around him spasmsing through your orgasm.

bokuto barely pulled out in time to cum on your stomach.

“i’m yours im yours im yours…” you babbled off to yourself.

fuck.

you were both drained.

who ever thought this is where you would be.

he got up to get a tissue for you to wipe you off. then coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“i’ll be right back” he said he before he left.

he came back with some water and helped you up.

“what’s going on?” you asked still faint from your orgasm.

“i started a shower for us!” he beamed at you.

yep. he could definitely be the one for you.

………………………………………………………………………………….

- WOWWWWW WHAT DID I JUST WRITE! this is my longest and still some of my first works i’ve put out. well i hope you like it also. comment any ideas you guys have for me!

[megumishousewife]

Gojo's Pussy Pink Lips

Description: Gojo gets the day off to be with you, his lovely wife as he reflect on how much you mean to him. As well as annoying you

A/N: I might do a part two if this does well. There's a little bit of smut in here towards the end. Thank youuu!!!

Gojo was surprised when Yaga gave him a day for himself. As the strongest sorcerer, you always gotta be light on your feet and ready for the next call because you will never truly know when you gotta save Japan or the world. Gojo was about to leave Yaga’s office so he could make his rounds to his students that class is canceled when, but his boss obviously had to make a smart remark.

Yaga yelled behind him, “Make sure to do something with that beautiful wife of yours. I can’t believe she married someone like you.” Gojo groaned at Yaga’s comment, but he isn’t far from the truth. Gojo was a lot of things: annoying, hard-headed, egotistic. You were the opposite and he still doesn’t know how he managed to find such an intelligent, gentle, and well-minded woman as yourself. Gojo thought about how thankful he was for you he dazed off while driving.

He met you in Kyoto when the two of you were in high school. Gojo was out in Kyoto, looking for the spot that Yaga told him had suspicious activity, but you and Utahime were already on the scene since it was the Kyoto’s branch area. Utahime scolded him for coming when she was supposed to be helping the rookie (you) with executing curses. Gojo still walked up to the second floor of the building, joining the two of you.

Utahime screamed, “Gojo, what the hell are you even doing here?!” 

Gojo smiled, “Yaga didn’t mention anything about the Kyoto branch taking up this mission so I was sent over. He must have gotten word back last minute but I can stay just in case you weaklings can’t handle it.”

Utahime continued bickering in the dark hallway with Gojo, but they didn’t even notice that you had gone missing until they heard clashing and banging from the door down the hallway. They stood quietly, wondering what you have gotten yourself into. Gojo had already turned limitless when he entered the building just in case things went south. Gojo left Utahime down on the far end of the hallway, taking long strides over to the door. He ignored Utahime yelling at him for leaving her, but just as he was about to open the door, you breezed right past him and went straight to your partner. 

“Utahime, I exercised the curse. It seemed to have been a human at one point and had some connections to this building, but I made sure to cleanse the room and I already did the rest of the building when I was looking around earlier.”

Utahime gasped,”Wow, you’re better than I thought! The Kyoto division is proud to have you on our team. Gojo?”

Gojo still stood on the end of the hallway by the door, still shocked that you even ignored his presence. Coming back to reality, he turned back and went over to introduce himself.

“Sorry I didn’t greet you earlier! Gojo Satoru, Tokyo division and not to mention the strongest.”

He seemed to be flirting with you but you dismissed him with your cold expression and short greeting.

“Name’s Y/N, pleasure to meet you.”

You turned on your heels and walked away to the stairs and Gojo was left in shock again. He only interacted with you once and he loved it. Maybe it was because of your cold and aloof attitude or because you weren’t swooned over by his good looks. Gojo also admired that you were fresh to this new life of yours and you handled business all on your own. He knew he had to know more about you. After months of begging Utahime and Shoko for your number (yall all had a gc with each other), they agreed to set him up on a date with you as long as Gojo didn’t act like an asshole. 

You waited for him at a cafe in a short floral dress and he was taken aback. You dressed differently than your attitude but maybe it’s because you two met on a mission. You smiled warmly at him and handed him a menu when he sat down.

“Hi, Gojo. I heard you liked sweets so I made sure to pick this cafe because they make the best desserts. I’m  ready to order whenever you are,” You said in the nicest voice.

Gojo thought that he had to win you over but you caught him first. The way your voice was as smooth as butter but sweeter than honey made him want to melt in his seat. The two of you ended up ordering the same thing and just laughed at the strange convenience. You guys hit it off pretty well and he didn’t even have to ask you for another date because you texted him when you got back to your dorms about the upcoming fair and you’ve grown closer to him ever since. By the end of your 1st year at Kyoto, you and Gojo started dating. He fell for your kind hearted personality as well as your perspective on the world and having deep connections with others. You made Gojo realize that he doesn’t have to close off his heart from everyone. When he lost Suguru twice, to them splitting and death, you were his shoulder to lean on when he had to cry. You reminded Gojo that he was still human despite what the sorcerer world has to say. He even appreciated your patience for him still holding a spot in the jujutsu world while you sat out until Tokyo or Kyoto needed your services. Gojo also loved how gentle you were with Megumi when he was younger, noticing that the boy and his step sister opened up to you a lot more because they saw Gojo as an annoying uncle. Even as a teenager, Megumi will come to you if something is deeply troubling him (or Gojo pissed him off again).

His phone buzzed as he was taken out of his deep thoughts, seeing the call was from you and he picked up immediately.

“Hey honey, are you break right now? I can come up there and we can eat together,” your soft voice came over the speaker. 

“Actually, I’m on my way home right now. Yaga gave me the day off.”

You smiled, “Ah, that’s great! I was just making that mochi you wanted so bad and we can just stay in the house today. You deserve this.”

“I should be home in 10 minutes, look sexy for me,” he said.

“You’re insufferable.” 

You hung up the phone and began to make the mochi that Gojo has been whining to you about eating for the past few weeks. It’s the least you can do since you only get to see him on the weekends if he didn’t get an important call. You sat your wedding ring in the counter and began kneading the mochi dough while watching a movie you had on the tv. After finishing kneading, you covered your dough and sat down to watch the movie because you were starting to get deep into the plot. You almost didn’t hear the door open, but you did hear your loud mouth husband yell when he saw you.

“MY DEAREST Y/N, IT’S BEEN AGES SINCE WE SAW EACH OTHER!” 

He ran over to kiss you, but you swatted at him.

“You act like dogs when they greet their owners when they come home.”

You gave him a quick peck, but ended up turning into a longer kiss than anticipated. Gojo laid across the couch in your living room, allowing your soft hands to run across his face as he told you about his students, but something felt missing. 

He shot up, “My sweetest little mochi, let me see your hands.”

“You and this weird nickname. What is wrong with my hands?”

You still held up your hands for him and he gasped at the missing spot on your ring finger.

He wailed, “Are you trying to tell me something? WHO IS HE?”

“Gojo. stop being a big baby. I love you very much and I would never do what you’re implying. My ring is in the kitchen, I didn’t want it to get sticky because of the dough I was making for you.”

You kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the kitchen to make the filling he requested as well. Your whiny husband followed you into the kitchen, standing behind you as you assembled the mochi balls. After making your first one, you held it up for him to eat and he took it with his mouth. You rolled your eyes and finished making the rest of them. Once completed, you took a plate of them with you to your bedroom and put the rest in the fridge. You waved your finger for Gojo to follow and of course, he wasn’t too far behind you. You sat on the bed and he laid on his respected side as you fed him so mochi you already bit off from.

“I made dinner reservations at 7, but I have a request for what I want you to wear,” Gojo said with his mouth full.

You smacked his arm, “I thought we were staying in! I could have cooked here. And it’s already 5:30, now I have to get ready fast.”

“Okay, Nara Smith but you were basically drooling over that restaurant you passed after a mission so I wanted to take you. Now, my dress request for tonight is the one that I bought you for our second wedding anniversary. The black one with the slit on the side.”

You ignored his comment and went to the bathroom where your walk-in closet was. On your side, you went towards the back where all your formal dresses were and grabbed the dress Gojo described. In the mirror in the middle of the closet, you held the dress up to your figure and sighed. You felt as though you put on extra weight so Gojo might not see the same woman he saw those years ago, but you would still wear the dress, knowing it would still make your husband happy. You took a shower while Gojo contemplated what suit would match your silk dress. You wrapped your towel around you and saw your husband in a black dress shirt and black slacks. He actually took his blindfold off and replaced it with his signature glasses.

“If you saw me…standing outside your door, licking my lips and then say ‘Ma’am, you look like you need some di-’,

“I see you took that musty ass blindfold off. Put it in the laundry basket,” you counter him.

If nothing can hurt Gojo Satoru, that would be a lie. The thing that can hurt him the most is his wife’s rude comments. He went out the bathroom, defeated as you began to slip your dress on and put on your earrings. Gojo reappeared in the mirror when you were putting on your lip gloss and lotion.

He spoke in a soft, feminine voice, “My husband and I are eating out at dinner today because we both have the day off. I must say, my husband looks striking as usual.”

“Gojo, I am not Nara Smith! If I was, I would poison your food everyday. You do have Lucky’s eyes though.”

“You know, Nobara said the same thing but she said he looks better.”

He stepped behind you in the mirror and caressed your body, feeling the smooth fabric over your curves. The perfume you used was the one he had bought for your birthday and he was tempted to just throw you on the bed and fuck you enough for you to forget about reservations. 

You chuckled, “Are all those years of you making me try new desserts with you catching up on me?”

Gojo leaned down to kiss your neck, “I would still love you no matter what you looked like.”

He flipped you around and lifted you onto the sink. Slotting himself between your legs, the passionate kisses had you ready to gasp for air. Gojo stuck his tongue in your mouth, swirling his with yours, making your head go woozy. You pulled him away and looked at him with a flushed face.

You gasped, “I know where this is going and you’re going to make us late.”

He ignored you and carried you over to the bed anyways. Plopping you in the middle of the bed, he opened your legs and slid off your panties. Gojo looked at his watch on his wrist before bringing his face close enough to where you can feel his breath on your clit. He looked up at you and smiled.

“I have an hour to do what I want, but I already know you’re going to be begging for more. So what’s it gonna be?”

Your answer was tears streaming down your face while Gojo devoured your pussy, ignoring your hand tugging on his white locks. Now you’re sitting across from Gojo at the restaurant, looking at his glossy lips, knowing your juices are still covering them.  

[dairy-farmer]

Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much! Do you also have it on tumblr? Twitter hides the thread when you are not a member ):

answered out of order:

brutim

cw/tw cnc

i dont but i can post it! here!

___________________________________

brutim| bruce with noncon fantasies he never shared with partners like talia or selina. but then tim gets hit with a spell that makes him say the opposite of what he wants and bruce fucks him harder than he ever has before while shivering at his 'no more! stop! help me! slower!'

bruce being so close to finishing, fucking harder and deeper and then tim, gasps, whines, and in his ears bruce hears him beg-

"not inside! not inside!"

and bruce GROANS and cums as deep as he can in tim.

it’s during one of those rare out-of-gotham cases that it happens. tim gets returned to him by a sheepish clark who is holding a squirming superboy by the ear in one hand.

“zatanna says it should wear off by morning”

IT. is a tongue curse.

a magician had seen that robin had been the one calling the shots and decided to teach him a lesson.

in the medbay tim squirms as bruce examines him, peeling off his sweat-slickened suit and prodding at his bruises and superficial cuts.

“that doesn’t hurt."

tim states matter of factly when bruce presses a finger to a sluggishly bleeding scrape on tim’s jaw.

bruce carefully removes his fingers.

that means it does hurt. it was, afterall, a diametric spell. every word that came out of tim's mouth was the opposite of what he wanted.

if he said it didn't hurt, that meant that it did. if he didn't want something, it meant that he did.

bruce had tested it out, trying to see the extent of how the spell worked.

it was only supposed to last a few hours but bruce still wanted a catalog of the incident.

'yes' meant 'no'.

'slow down' became 'faster'.

simple things like that.

expletives were interesting. when bruce ordered tim to swear at him, tim blushed and hesitantly said 'fuck'.

names seemed unaffected.

it appeared that since the words were exclamations rather than words with assigned meanings they didn't have a reversal.

bruce put tim through a set of comprehensive tests to see the extent of the spell.

if bruce told him to point to the right, tim would point to the left.

if bruce told him to write down specific words, tim would write the opposite.

but if bruce didn't order him then tim could do as he pleased. it was a fascinating effect. able to function by using compulsion.

the spell seemed to invade tim's language center, his writing ability, and his body's motions.

when bruce told tim to step closer to him, tim took a step back.

it was a remarkable effect. and dangerous.

things like this in the field could immediately effect the chain of command, orders given, and plans laid out.

if tim tried to resist saying anything at all he could remain silent.

for a bit.

but then his jaw would begin to tremble and bruce would see drool collecting in the corner of tim's mouth until tim burst out with the words.

tim's mouth was slack, pink tongue peeking out. lines and strings of drool dripped out as tim hastily wiped it away.

bruce stared for a moment longer than necessary before adding that the spell had a compulsion aspect to it.

alfred was away in europe for a few more days, leaving bruce and tim alone for the most part.

that's why bruce was in charge of tim's physical.

along with making sure he got something to eat and was showered and dressed for bed.

tim is already up in his room by the time bruce retires from the cave.

there's a small tub of ointment for tim's bruises in his hand.

he'd forgotten to hand it to tim before he sent him upstairs.

bruce knocks and lets the door creak open, peeking in to the sight of tim sitting up and staring at him from bed.

"get out."

bruce's sleepiness had a bit of its claws in him but at the sound of the soft order he startles awake.

bruce's head shoots up to face tim who is red-faced and squirming in bed.

"get out," he repeats with more force before letting out a sharp frustrated breath through his nose.

bruce feels a tug of something in his gut and enters tim's room.

tim's sleeping shirt is hanging off a shoulder. there's a bright red mark on his shoulder that will likely purple into a bruise within a day or two.

tim has pushed himself up and is staring at bruce with some hazy interest.

bruce doesn't know why he hasn't offered tim the ointment yet. instead, he's just standing in tim's room. staring.

but there's a strange tension in the air.

bruce is shirtless with just some loose cotton sleeping pants. tim is in a simple shirt and some underwear that bruce can see peeking beneath.

tim is staring at him patiently. waiting for his explanation for why he's in his room so late.

the room he's already told bruce to get out of. (but it wasn't like that was it? tim didn't mean to tell bruce to get out, he meant to tell him to come in when he knocked).

they've been here before. done this before.

where the manor was empty save for them and tim would crawl into bed with bruce.

it started innocently enough, tim tucking his face into bruce's neck, breathing him in. but then hands wandered and clothes were removed.

bruce always felt guilty in the morning.

he avoided tim for a few days out of shame and then everything returned to normal.

bruce could always reassure himself with the fact that it was always tim who came to him. tim entered his room, got into his bed.

it wasn't as bad if tim was the one who did it. who started it.

bruce felt less guilty about it.

but here...now...

bruce was in tim's room. (coming to give him medicine).

tim was staring at him and bruce held out the small glass jar.

"ointment" he offered and held it out to tim who went cross-eyed to stare at it.

"use it for your bruises."

tim sucked on his bottom lip. slowly.

bruce watched the movement of his mouth with something forming in his gut.

tim looked back up at him. eyes big, one shoulder bare with his shirt hanging off it.

"i'm not in any pain."

tim let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. bruce watched it like a hawk. "i don't need your help."

bruce swallowed thickly. something...something was in his gut coiling.

tim's tone ordering him to get out. tim's insistence that he wasn't in pain and didn't need bruce's help.

"i'll do it." bruce replied, voice oddly croaked. "i'll apply it."

"no." tim breathed, voice oddly breathless. "i don't want you to."

bruce felt a shiver race down his spine as he edged closer, form practically eclipsing tim.

bruce pressed him down with a single hand.

tim didn't resist him. tim's pupils were big, his breathing was heavier

bruce grabbed tim's bare thigh, squeezing it experimentally and listening to tim's soft hiss.

"did that hurt?" bruce asked.

he opened the slick balm that turned to an oil with the warmth of his skin.

"no." tim replied with a slight strain, like he was reluctant like he didn't mean it.

something tugged at bruce's brainstem.

bruce massaged the flesh.

he dug in expert fingers until tim let out a soft whimper.

"you want me to make you feel better?" bruce asked, voice heavy with...something.

tim whimpered.

"n-no."

tim's eyes slip closed and bruce inched closer.

"are you going to let me help you?"

tim shakily sucked in a breath and-

"n-no. no i don't want your help, please-"

bruce wasn't paying attention to tim's bruises or scratches. the little glass jar was somewhere in the sheets, bruce didn't know where. he was too focused on tim.

tim's little baby clit was pulsing under bruce's fingers as tim's thighs shook around where bruce had settled between his legs.

tim was making little murmurs under his breath, brows furrowed as bruce trailed his fingers around his slick little entrance.

"stop." tim panted.

"stop stop stop-"

bruce swallowed the lump in his throat, steadied his shaking arm and pressed two fingers into tim's wet slit.

tim arched up off the bed.

"n-no! no! bruce-" bruce felt something like agony course through him.

his jaw was clenched so tight, his body was winded up with tension.

bruce shoved tim's shirt further up his chest. his other hand not inside tim, cupped and pinched tim's little tit. he squeezed and roughed up the flesh.

he left the skin red and distressed as he pressed in closer and ground his covered cock into tim's wet seam.

"no, bruce, no-"

tim began shaking, trembling under him.

bruce knows it's because he gets overwhelmed. because it just feels too good.

it's not because he's afraid.

not because he doesn't want this. but still. tim's words and the mixed signals from his body- they just do things to bruce's brain.

he's felt guilty about his thoughts that were like this.

he's cursed himself and convinced himself there was something deeply wrong with him for desiring something like this.

a body squirming and crying under him, desperate to get away. but bruce is too big, too strong and they can't escape. they can't get away.

bruce knows it's wrong. it's a branch of depraved that is considered one of the more extreme taboos.

he's never tried it with a partner. never.

he knows the kind of women he is attracted to. strong and proud.

they'd never lower themselves to begging.

they'd never give into the indignance of pretending to be a victim for bruce. they'd be insulted, disgusted even.

it's why bruce kept it to himself. kept his shameful thoughts to himself.

bruce comforts himself with the fact that he's sickened by the thought of ever attempting something like this outside of a fantasy.

not in real life.

not when he's seen the aftermath on the streets so many times.

but still sometimes...he can't help but just think of it...

it's why he hated himself just a little bit more every time the desire reared his head and he touched himself to the thought of backing someone into a corner and using all his bulk to do what he wanted to them.

so bruce is more than a little interested in tim (he ignores the voice in his head that is telling him this is a bad idea).

more than he usually is.

because tim is soft. his body is pliant and bends to bruce's whims.

he's warm and he clings to bruce every time he bottoms out into his sinfully tight cunt. all sloppy and wet and straining against the size of bruce.

sometimes tim freezes up like one of those deers in the headlights when bruce fucks him.

with his legs thrown over bruce's shoulders, hands clinging to any bit he can hang on, mouth open and just staring at bruce with big eyes. bruce rocks into his body, meeting his eyes and holding his hips as he fucks deep and fast until tim is twitching around him.

until he's letting out soft 'unghh unghh hnngh' sounds.

but tim also likes to talk, he's vocal and offers feedback to bruce. (which bruce appreciates).

he tells bruce what he likes, tells him to keep going, to fuck faster, deeper, harder-

bruce shivers as tim whines under him. he's twitching around bruce's fingers, pussy clamping onto the fingers and desperate to keep them in even as he cries-

"no more! no more! it hurts"

bruce groans over tim, cock so achingly hard and throbbing that he's dripping with precum.

bruce is panting audibly, he can hear himself in his ears as he grinds his cock against tim's twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers.

bruce thrusts them in down to the knuckle.

tim's body jolts, flinching against the movement. bruce crouches closer, his heart is pounding in his chest. his cock is aching with need to be inside tim.

bruce presses his fingers in harshly, spreading them, watching as tim's pretty,

red pussy strained to accommodate the stretch.

"does that hurt?" bruce asked, voice heavy with desire. he can feel his body coiled in anticipation at tim's reply. there are tears beading in his eyes, his cheeks are stained red and he's squirming.

"does that hurt tim?"

"yes!" tim cries, a little sob bursting out of him as he shook. bruce felt his hot cunt go tight around his fingers.

bruce shivered.

"you want daddy to make you hurt? huh?"

" you want him to destroy your little pussy?" bruce's voice was a near growl. his hands drifted down to his pants and began tugging them down, shivering at the warm air as it hit his cock dripping with need.

fuck. bruce had never been this hard before.

he hadn't even fucking touched himself and he was already leaking.

"no!" tim sobbed, head thrown back and tears streaming down his face "no! no! no!"

bruce shook as he tugged out his dripping fingers.

"daddy's going to fuck you-"

"no!"

"yes he is."

bruce steadied his grip on tim's hips, carefully inched closer to tim's entrance and looked up to stare at tim's tear-filled eyes that were staring at him as near inaudible 'no no no's' were being whispered under his breath.

bruce almost cooed at the sight before fucked all the way in with a single hard thrust.

tim went still under him.

"yes. he. is." bruce snapped his hips into a sharp thrust with every word as tim gasped with every push into him.

"bruce,"

tim let out the word with such a raspy voice like he was being strangled. "bruce, stop, stop, stop-"

tim's voice was increasing in urgency. bruce could see as tim's face was twisted in pleasure.

his legs desperately wrapped around bruce's hips to keep him in even as he pleaded for bruce to stop, to slow down, to get out of him-

bruce felt as something seeped into him. he felt like he detached from his body,

only able to watch as he pinned down tim's hips and began FUCKING.

tim threw his head back and cried.

"oh god! bruce no more no more! slower! oh please go slower! i can't take it!"

bruce buried his face into tim's shoulder,

groaning as he listened to tim squirm under him, breathy voice pleading with bruce to stop this, to slow down, that it hurts-

bruce started fucking harder, faster, deeper.

tim's hips arched up to meet his hard thrusts. tim was panting in his ear, breathless,

and whining with a strained voice.

bruce pumped his cock into tim's hot cunt, feeling as he split open his walls. as that tight pussy shivered around him, unable to handle his size.

tim's body was so small under him, so easy to grab and manipulate and hold down.

tim kept squirming under him, trying to get into a better position, trying to lift his hips so bruce could sink in deeper. but with the words he's saying and how he's moving. it's almost as if he's trying to escape.

"stop fighting."

bruce whispered the order to tim's ear. "stop fighting and let me fuck you."

tim went still for a moment and bruce knows what's coming. knows it from the moment tim's body refused to follow a direct order while bruce tested him.

tim can't help but do the opposite of what he's told.

bruce groans as tim tries desperately to buck him off. his legs are kicking at either side of him. tim grunts with effort as his hands press on bruce's chest, trying to push him off.

he's fighting bruce so fiercely. fighting like he doesn't want this.

tim sobs into his ears and tells him to stop, stop, stop.

bruce lays his weight onto tim, pins down his hands and fucks into tim with twice the fervor he did before.

bruce feels like something has unclasped in him. there's a swirling heat in his gut that's all demand and want for him to take.

tim stretches so beautifully for him, his cunt sucking him and letting him bottom out about despite tim's words about not wanting this,

about hating this, about hating bruce.

"i ...i h-hate you-" tim breathes out as he keens when bruce roughly strokes his clit. "i hate you i hate you- oh god, fuck i hate you so fucking much-"

bruce laps up the hot tears streaming down tim's sweetly pink cheeks.

he hums his acknowledgment into tim's brows and litters gentle kisses onto the skin.

tim sobs and shakes under him, trembling like a bird in the snow.

bruce groans as he sinks in deep, feels his balls slap tim's wet cunt and stays there. he feels tim twitch around him.

feels his hot pussy walls clamp down and try to keep him inside.

tim is straining under him, caught between sobbing and trying to squirm away from him. bruce just wraps a hand around his waist and uses his hard-earned strength to keep tim pinned to him.

bruce groans into tim's cheek as the bit of wiggling has tim thrusting up and down on his cock.

"good boy," bruce breathes, "such a good boy- you want this so badly don't you?"

"n-no!" tim's voice is thick with his sobs and tears and bruce kisses his parted mouth,

licking in and tasting the sweet slickness of tim's saliva.

"you love me fucking you, don't you? you little slut"

tim weakly twitches under him and nods his head even after a croaked "no i don't, i hate it, i hate it so much-"

bruce's cock has been steadily dripping cum the entire tim. his balls are clenched tight and bruce can feel he's right at the edge.

tim's pussy is so perfect for him, accommodating him so well and letting bruce batter the walls as he begins to pull back and sharply thrust in.

tim yelps and clings to bruce as he begins panting out low orders to his ears.

"i'm so close, just be quiet tim alright?-"

"don't let anyone in the house know what we're doing okay? just a little longer okay, i'm almost done. daddy's almost done and then he'll cum inside you, alright?"

tim's cries got louder. louder and louder until he was almost screaming bruce's name.

pleading for him to slow down, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, can't someone help him? please!

tim suddenly lets out a sharp cry and throws his head back. bruce grunts as he feels tim tighten around him, hard enough the at he can barely move but bruce just fucks. harder.

tim lets out punctuated 'ah ah ah's' with every push of bruce's cock.

tim is panting. red-faced. out of breath. almost delirious with pleasure as bruce feels tim's little clit throb under his fingers.

"nnhg b-bruce-" tim's voice is dry and raspy.

his brows are furrowed as he lets out occasional gasps. "nngh n-not inside, please."

bruce feels his eyes close. his breaths are growing heavier, his thighs are burning with lactic acid as he sinks into that sloppy wet pussy.

bruce can hear the 'squelches' in his ears as he feels his balls tighten until its almost painful.

"not inside!" tim sobs. fresh tears are streaming down his cheeks and his forehead is creased from overstimulation of bruce touching his little clitty. "no! not inside!"

"not inside! please! please bruce!"

tim is begging him not to cum in him. not to ruin him further.

and bruce almost cries as he cums, scrambling to stuff inside tim as deep as he can. he groans as he feels his cum shoot into tim.

he knows it's pooling right at the entrance of his womb.

the thought fills bruce with so much animalistic satisfaction that he humps into tim's slutty hole while listening to his whines. bruce bites and kisses at his pretty pink tits.

sucking hard enough to leave bruises before shoving his tongue into that exhausted little mouth.

bruce hums into it, as the kiss grows sloppy and thick with spit that froths down their chins.

tim whimpers occasionally.

his body slow and unreactive as bruce tugs his softened cock out and lets it rest against the seam of tim's well-used pussy.

"you're mine." bruce whispers to him. "say you're mine. you'll always be mine."

tim's eyes are heavy with sleep, he's nodding off as he says-

"n-no."

"not yours. w-wil never be yours."

bruce shivers at the words and tightens his grip on tim's hip. his wet cock, spent and tired, gets pressed back into tim's little hole with a bit of manuevering.

bruce is going to keep it there for the night.

tucked inside a nice warm hole where it belonged. plugged in until tim's pussy never forgot the shape of bruce's cock.

until he never forgot that his cunt was bruce's. his tits, his mouth, his body, his everything was bruce's.

maybe bruce should be horrified.

maybe the weight of what he's done should be sitting like a stone in his stomach. his guilt should keep him awake as well as the anticipation of morning because by morning tim will be back to normal.

he'll be back to normal and will know how much bruce liked fucking him while acting like he didn't want it. he'll know the things bruce said to him and how much he liked tim fighting against him.

maybe bruce should be more mortified.

more concerned about how tim wasn't disturbed by this.

but instead, bruce settles in. he tightens his grip on tim's hip and tucks tim's sweet head under his chin.

he breathes in deeply and sleeps without a single thing weighing on his mind.

_____________________________________________________

[dissapointu]

Drabbles: Arcane Characters and Their Partner with Noise Sensitivity————————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx’s ears perk up when she hears you wince from the sound of her latest explosion.

“Oops, sorry! I didn’t think it’d be that loud,” she says, her wide eyes filling with concern as she looks at you.

When you tell her that certain noises make it hard to concentrate, she instantly softens. “I didn’t know! I’ll try to keep it down for you. I can go do something else! We could paint, or, or—what do you wanna do?”

Jinx is almost too eager to make it up to you, trying her best to keep her chaotic nature in check for your comfort. She’ll find a quieter way to get her energy out.

Vi

Vi instantly notices the discomfort on your face when the sounds of clinking bottles in the bar grow too loud for your liking.

“Hey, you alright?” she asks, stepping closer. Her hand rests lightly on your back, her brows furrowed.

You explain your sensitivity, and Vi nods. “Gotcha. Let’s take a walk, yeah? You don’t gotta deal with this if it’s too much.”

She guides you to a quieter part of the city, letting you regain your calm. Vi’s more than willing to do anything to keep you comfortable, even if it means skipping out on a fun night.

Sevika

Sevika’s usually the type to blend into her surroundings, but when she sees you flinch from a loud noise, she’s quick to respond.

“Hey, relax. You okay?” she asks, her tone surprisingly soft.

You nod, but she can see the tension in your shoulders. “I’ll handle it,” she mutters, pulling you out of the crowded room.

Sevika’s not one to fuss, but she’s quick to clear the space around you. If things get too noisy, she’ll stand between you and the chaos, keeping a protective arm around you until you feel comfortable again.

Silco

Silco’s sharp eyes notice your discomfort when a sudden loud crash echoes through the room.

“You’re alright,” he says, his voice calm, yet filled with a rare tenderness. “Let’s move away from the noise.”

Without a word, he leads you to a quieter corner, his arm gently guiding you. Silco doesn’t need to ask; he just knows. When you rest your head on his shoulder, he stays silent, letting the peace of the moment settle around you both.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but you can feel how protective he is, ensuring that you’re never exposed to unnecessary noise.

Vander

Vander watches with concern as you flinch at a particularly loud noise, his large frame blocking the loud chatter around you.

“Easy there,” he murmurs, his deep voice a comfort.

When you explain your sensitivity to sound, Vander leads you outside, away from the hustle of the bar. “I should’ve known. We don’t need to be in the middle of all this. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

With him, the noise never lasts long. He’ll make sure you’re in a calm environment, allowing you to relax before returning to the crowd.

Ekko

Ekko notices the way your face scrunches in discomfort at the ambient noise around you, his heart sinking.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

When you tell him about your noise sensitivity, Ekko’s response is immediate. He pulls out a pair of noise-canceling headphones from his backpack and hands them to you. “Try these. It might help.”

Later, when he sees you more relaxed, he’s glad to know you’re okay, and he’ll always carry his headphones from that day on, ready to help whenever things get too loud.

Jayce

Jayce immediately notices the strain on your face when a loud sound echoes from the lab. His gaze softens with sympathy.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize it would be so noisy.”

He quickly pulls you away from the source of the sound, leading you to a quieter part of the building. “Let’s get you somewhere calm, yeah? We’ll figure out how to work around this.”

Jayce listens to you, adjusting his work environment to avoid triggering your sensitivity. He’s quick to adapt, eager to ensure you’re comfortable while he continues his research.

Viktor

Viktor’s focus on his experiments falters when he hears your soft wince at a sudden noise from his machine.

“Apologies,” he says immediately, his tone gentle. “I hadn’t realized that would be too loud.”

He ushers you away from the lab equipment, leading you to a more peaceful area. Viktor’s always incredibly thoughtful when it comes to your well-being, taking extra care to minimize any loud noises during his work.

He might tinker with his devices and inventions to reduce their volume, but he’ll always prioritize your comfort first.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s eyes widen when she notices your discomfort at the noise from the bustling crowd around you.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her hand brushing against yours.

You explain your sensitivity to noise, and Caitlyn quickly takes action, leading you to a quieter, more secluded part of Piltover. “I should’ve noticed sooner. Let’s just take a breather, alright?”

She’s careful to ensure that you’re always in a comfortable environment, using her position as a protector to make sure no overwhelming noise ever affects you. Caitlyn is quick to shield you from the chaos of the world when you need it most.

[aliens8n]

Lucifer Morningstar [ABC of smut]

I hope you guys enjoy this little bundle of headcanons!

Warning: Nsfw theme

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Lucifer is the type to wrap you in silk, fetch you the finest wine, and whisper sweet words until you're utterly spoiled.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his wings and back! His wings are a bit more sensitive than most of his body so he enjoys the sensation they bring when touched in such a heated moment. As for his partner, he likes their hands, I don’t think there is a proper reason other than he just finds that body part fairly attractive and well obviously useful! 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He isn’t very fussy about it and rather easygoing about it depending on the moment! He does enjoy little mess. It's all part of the fun. He likes the aftermath the most!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He is the king of Hell!! He had lifetimes to perfect his skills after all. And he’s very confident in his abilities!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He would not play favorites with this part. Why would he limit himself to just one? He prefers to keep things interesting, and spontaneous. With how flexible he am, he think it'd be a pity not to show off a little.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

This man is a fine mix! He can be either serious or playful! Sometimes He is playful, after all, what’s the point if you’re not having a bit of fun? But there are moments when things get serious, and he can be... quite intense.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Everything about him is perfectly groomed. He takes pride in his appearance, after all.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Occasionally he does indulge himself, but he prefers to make it much more exciting such as having an audience or even... Partner to help! 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucifer has a taste for the more intense side of things. A few that he definitely would bring to the bedroom is power play, and don’t worry he has no problem giving his partner the power if they so desire. Breath play? Absolutely! He finds that it adds such an exquisite edge. A frequent visitor in the bed would be the whole spectrum of BDSM... restraint, discipline, just enough to keep things interesting.

L = Location (favorite places to do they do)

Despite all his beautiful kinks and willingness to experiment, this sweet king's all-time favorite spot to get freaky in is his bedroom. After all, nothing beats privacy and comfort.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Want to get him excited? Show that you mean business and not afraid to well play with the devil! Power and confidence are the way into his heart and pants!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He will NOT do any sort of genuine harm! Nuh-uh, he might be the King of Hell but he has some morals. Another way to turn him off is overdoing teasing and playing and then giving nothing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving absolutely but isn’t going to say no if you want to put in some work!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn’t the biggest fan of them as he prefers to take his time and fully indulge himself but he won’t just completely shut down the idea. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He is always willing to push the boundaries, and try something new. Referring back to a previous letter are limits, everything must be thrilling, not reckless! 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

A better question is how much are you up for!~

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Lucifer is quite fond of using them on a partner. As for himself, he isn’t opposed to the idea and enjoys a toy or two!

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Too damn much but at least by the end, you’ll be left feeling satisfied as well eagerly thinking about what he will come up next. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not the quiet type! Sounds from moans to growls, anything your filthy mind can think of he mostly has made that sound a few times before. After all, he is prideful, not shy. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is quite the romantic so he loves candles, fancy silks, and dramatic settings...  He adores creating the perfect atmosphere for you both to indulge in and have a good time in!

[catghoul31]

I Just Wanted To Feed Some Ducks, For Christ's Sake

Wade was just having a @poolverine-week Day 4: First Date with Logan, when out of nowhere, a close-minded jerkwad of a dad decides to harass them! He deals with it in typical Deadpool fashion, but accidentally reveals something about himself along the way. Will Logan still love him? Or will he hate him forever and ever and never, ever talk to him again??

(...Spoiler alert: everything was fine. Psh, I wasn't even worried!! Why'd you think I'd ever be worried...?)

Content Warnings: Homophobia and Transphobia (directed at logan and wade)

Read it under the cut, or on ao3!

This was probably the happiest Deadpool had been in about a decade… and all he was doing was throwing corn and peas at ducks at the park!! Oh, but his Logan was there, and today, that made all the difference. 

A couple days ago, they’d exchanged their first “I love you”s, kissed each other until their lips got sore, and signed marriage documents. That third one would’ve only been true if he’d taken Vanessa’s advice at face value, sure- but it was official now!! Deadpool and Wolverine were an item. No queerbaiting, no sending one partner to superhell, and not an ounce of homophobia to be found! This story would be really short, because it was honestly just an excuse for Wade to tell all you guys that he was feeding ducks with Wolvie right now. Wasn’t that an adorable thought in these trying times? He sure was glad no one was gonna ruin it, and he could just lean against him and kiss him on the cheek all cutely-

“Hey, what the hell-? You can’t be doing that around my kids!!”

FUCK.

Okay, Wade, calm down. Maybe there’s some other weirdo who decided to waltz over here naked or something, and that’s who he’s talking to? 

No- no, this guy was walking over to them- and there goes that cute little smile on Logan’s face. Why does this author keep making us deal with shit like this…? I just wanted to feed some ducks, for Christ’s sake!

“I don’t remember asking you, dickhead,” Logan grumbled lowly, and Wade would recognize that tone anywhere… That was only ever how he spoke if he was seconds away from introducing the claws to someone’s face!! He needed to humble this Karen-in-training now, before his peanut gave that guy a real reason to get them kicked out!!

The rando who thought he was the king of this public park scoffed at the show of aggression, crossing his arms. “No, listen to me!! I don’t care if you two want to be freaks in private, but I won’t have my children seeing this nonsense-“

“Nonsense?? We’re just feeding some ducks, lady!!” Wade interjected, stepping in between both the fuming, borderline rabid monster man and Logan. “I know that sounds concerning, but that bucket’s full of mixed vegetables! No white bread here, we know that’s bad for them, so I promise your kids won’t pick up any bad habits-“

“God, shut up!! You know exactly what I’m talking about- this gay shit… ” he hissed, as if ‘gay’ was a four-letter word or something, while gesturing at them as though they were some spectacle. He really could’ve picked… any of their other adventures, if spectacle was what he wanted. He was clearly new here, since Deadpool knew he’d gotten a lot fruitier than this!! But whatever- so much for no homophobia, right?

“Oh, come on!! ” Wade said, in the middle of a few barks of laughter. “ That’s the problem you have with us?? In the year of our lord 2024… I mean, I’m a fucking merc, and you’ll probably find out what’s going on with my super-friend here if you keep bugging us,” he quipped, smirking at how fucking pissed Logan looked. He’d have no problem calming him down later, if you know what I mean… ;) But he was honestly curious- what lore was behind the stick up this man’s ass?

“Please, though, tell me how me giving this little guy a little kissy-kissy affects your children, who are currently throwing handfuls of dirt at each other 200 feet away from us where they can’t possibly see us,” Wade snarked, scratching Logan’s head as said little guy continued growling threateningly at the man. “Easy now, tiger…” he soothed, to absolutely no avail.

The loving, accepting individual in front of them cringed at the exchange before them, nearly looking ready to spit on Wade. Hey, he’d gladly open his mouth for him!! “You don’t see a single problem with this?? Ignoring how fucked up whatever that guy’s doing to me is-“

“I’ll show you fucked up, you sad, bigoted waste of-“

“Hey, hey!! We’re having a civil conversation here, Logan- I am so sorry. He’s not used to new faces, but I’ve been working on socializing him-“ Wade joked again, shutting up as soon as he felt the pricks of his claws brush his hand. They had to keep it cool, blood-free and stuff, because they had to think of the kids, right??

“-I don’t want my, or any other kid, going around thinking it’s okay for two men to be treating each other like women! God, you two are sick…”

Immediately, a lightbulb went off in Wade’s head. Without thinking, he said exactly what was on his mind, because oh my god it sounded so fucking funny to him- 

“Well… how do you know I’m not a woman?”

Dead silence followed his statement. Logan wasn’t even snarling at the dude anymore, and the dude himself was looking at him like Tails did in that one MS Paint comic panel that made him crack up every time he saw it. Fucking brilliant.

“…Because you have a penis?? What kind of question is that, you freak?!” he yelled, and Wade felt Logan tense up in defense once again.

“Woah, woah- and how do you know that?? Get your mind out of my pants- and maybe yourself away from this lake, if you want to keep your… everything intact,” he said, tightening the arm he had around his honey badger as he glared daggers into this dickwad. Truthfully, he was this close to just letting him go- it’d be so funny!! Except his kids were supposedly here, so…

“Ohh my fucking-“ The male Karen- Kyle?- whoever he was- his brain was officially broken. Wade loved to see it!! “Just- get out!! Degenerates like you shouldn’t be allowed anywh- HOLY SHIT!!”

Snikt!! Oh, that was one of Wade’s Top 3 Favorite Sounds Of All Time for sure… and the full flash of claws from Logan finally had this dude running away with his nonexistent tail between his legs. “Awh, good boy!!” Wade praised, patting his back affectionately. “You showed him, didn’t you-?”

“Just… just shut up,” Logan said, though there wasn’t any anger in his voice anymore. Just exhaustion- and confusion? Oh… oh no… “Let’s just go home, okay, bub?”

Wade furrowed his brows- if they left now, it meant that guy won, didn’t it? But then he realized, once again- that “joke” about him possibly being a woman? Not nearly as much of a joke, as it turned out!! Did… Did Logan even know about stuff like this? Shit, he might’ve said too much in the heat of the moment… This could be bad.

“Yeah… yeah, peanut. Let’s go…”

—

An awkward silence settled over them both as they walked home. Quite unusual, since usually Wade was yapping about anything and everything whenever they’d go anywhere, even before this little date of theirs!! But he wasn’t in the mood for that- he didn’t even reach for his hand, when he’d been holding it the entire time while they were walking here. He was too anxious over what Logan must think of him now… or maybe he was worried over nothing, and Logan did really just take it as a joke? Wade really hoped that was the case…

Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks, right before they got to their apartment complex, and turned to face Wade. “Wanna tell me what that was about, bub?” he rasped, his tone just accusatory enough to have his blood pressure spiking.

“That Karen??” Wade said, hoping beyond hope that that’s what he meant. “Oh, just a dipshit in public, and you didn’t actually hurt him, so we’re probably fine-“

“No, Wade. What you said. About…” Logan shook his head, tilting his head at Wade with his brow furrowed in confusion… and concern? “…I’m sorry, I just gotta know if you… meant that. If you’d rather I call you… are- are you trans or something??”

…Okay, that was close , and technically correct- but no, Wade wasn’t a woman. Not entirely, anyways... Logan didn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so that part of Wade’s worries was able to shut up!! But… god, this was gonna get even more confusing. “I… well…” Wade paused for a second, trying to figure out how to put this.

“Not judging you here, bub. Just… trying to make sure, so I didn’t accidentally-“

“No- no!! I’m not- well… okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me here, peanut. Alright?” Wade asked, his gaze flitting away from Logan and suddenly finding the cracks in the sidewalk very, very interesting. The gruff man slowly nodded, looking at him patiently.

“I’m not… not a man. But I’m also… not not a woman, either? I might also be some secret third thing, don’t worry about it- just, I don’t really even care that much!! Trust me!! It’s just…” Wade nervously chuckled- it seemed so simple in his mind, but Logan had to be so confused right now, right? “…You don’t gotta change anything with my name or nothing, it’s just- a long while back, I kinda figured out that… my gender, it’s… more complex than just a man?? If that makes any sense…?”

Logan was looking at Wade, trying to decipher his words. As soon as Wade saw that face, his heart dropped- he knew that would all be too much too soon… Maybe he should just pretend he was joking after all? It’d be much easier that way-

“…Okay? I can’t say I’ve heard of that before, but… Wade. You know I don’t give a fuck, right?” For a moment, Wade glanced up at Logan, really hoping he wasn’t calling him ridiculous or anything. It was always hard to explain this to people, which is why he usually just… didn’t! But Logan wouldn’t have let him lie about it… he never let him lie about anything anymore!! Something about being able to “smell when he’s lying” or some shit?

“That- no, that sounded bad, what I’m trying to say is…” Logan reached forward to grab his hand again, and Wade felt his heart calm down and fill itself with butterflies at the same damn time. “If… if that’s what you are, I don’t mind. Whatever it is- you know what, just throw the Wikipedia page at me if it has a name, okay?”

Genderfluid. Wade had figured that out with Vanessa long ago, and learning what that meant, why he felt like he fit in with both men and women- but also neither category truly felt like… him? Her? Them, even-? was a massive breath of fresh air at the time. And… Logan was willing to learn. All for him…? Oh, he knew he’d picked right!! Thank God he hadn’t picked the vaguely problematic Logan from the early comic days on accident or something…

“You… you mean it, Logan? I didn’t just blow your mind in a bad way…?” Wade huffed uncomfortably, still not quite believing what he’d just said.

“Ah,” Logan waved off his concerns, stepping closer to give him a hug. Oh, he could cry- Logan hugs were the best… “You’re still Wade, aren’t ya? We’re mutants- people like him hate us for a lot of reasons. Just because I don’t understand something… doesn’t mean it’s any of my business. And- bub…” He stepped back a bit, giving Wade that soft, caring look that always melted his heart. “I’ll try my best to understand. For your sake, alright? I love you…”

Wade genuinely smiled, for the first time since that shitbag ruined their nice day out. “I love you too, peanut. Thanks… really. This means a lot…” he muttered, squeezing him tight before he pulled away.

In return, Logan gave Wade’s hand a tight squeeze. God- always had to try and break his fingers, huh? “No problem, bub…” He muttered something under his breath, making Wade’s heart skip a beat since it sounded suspiciously like, “You mean a lot, so…”

With that heartwarming coming-out story out of the way, they walked back to their apartment as though nothing had happened… and in a way, it really hadn’t!

Because they had each other, didn’t they? And no one's stupid opinion of them would get in the way of their love, no matter how loud and annoying they were about it…

[zerun0]

please a Jayvik fic? that would be super cool and awesome sauce so I can pretend s2 didn't happen and they're having fun working as lab partners <3

"For now" — Viktor x Jayce

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— !SFW! — Established relationship, Fluff, Flirting, kissing. — Word count: — 1,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The Hextech lab buzzed with the energy of early afternoon. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the high windows, lighting up the chaotic jumble of notes, tools, and half-finished devices strewn across every surface. Jayce and Viktor stood side by side, arms crossed, looking down at the creature sitting proudly on their workbench, a round, fluffy Poro with stubby legs and an unshakable confidence.

“I trust you two implicitly! ”— Heimerdinger declared, his tiny hands clasped behind his back as he beamed up at them. “This little one has a, shall we say, spirit for exploration, when it’s not napping.”

Jayce leaned forward, hands braced on his knees. — “Professor, are you sure you can’t just take it to your meeting? I mean, it’s not like the Council Chamber is a lab full of fragile, priceless equipment.”

“Oh, nonsense!” — Heimerdinger waved his hand dismissively. — “They wouldn’t understand his unique needs. Besides, you’re the perfect duo for the task.” — He gestured between the two of them, eyes twinkling. — “Viktor with his sharp mind, and Jayce with his...big heart. Surely you’ll manage.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow. — “Professor, I am not certain that babysitti-”

“Ah! Not babysitting! Mentoring!” — Heimerdinger corrected. He patted the Poro, which chirped happily. — “He has much to learn about the world, and you’ll provide him with a safe, structured environment.”

The Poro hopped in place, nearly knocking over a flask of shiny blue liquid. Jayce caught it mid-air with quick reflexes, sighing sharply as he set it back down. — “Safe and structured,” — Viktor repeated dryly but in a low tone, unheard.

“Now, I must be off. Don’t let him out of your sight!” — With that, the diminutive professor bustled out, leaving the two young inventors staring at the small, smug creature that now ruled their afternoon.

Jayce straightened, running a hand through his hair. — “Okay, this can’t be that hard. He’s just a little…fluffy thing. How much trouble can he cause?”

The Poro tilted its head innocently before leaping off the table and darting into the maze of equipment.

“Right,” — Viktor muttered, already reaching for his cane to follow.

— Half an hour later, the lab looked like a storm had hit it.

“Where did he go this time?” — Jayce asked, hands on his hips. “Under the shelf,” — Viktor replied, not even looking up from where he was recalibrating a delicate instrument.

Jayce knelt down, peering into the shadows. — “Come on, little guy,” — he coaxed, waving the brightly colored toy Heimerdinger had left. The Poro eyed him warily, a small item clamped in its teeth.

“Don’t chew on that!” — Jayce lunged, but the Poro darted out of reach, bounding across the lab and knocking over a stack of schematics.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said calmly, — “please do not let him destroy everything we have worked on in the past three weeks.”

Jayce groaned, gathering up the scattered pages. — “Why does it like chewing on stuff so much? What does Heimerdinger even feed it?”

“Chaos, apparently,”— Viktor replied, glancing toward the Poro as it hopped onto one of the tables. It sniffed at a set of neatly arranged tools before pawing at them — “He must be bored. Perhaps we should entertain him?”

Jayce stared at him. — “Entertain? Viktor, it’s a Poro, not a toddler.”

“Clearly, you have never babysat before.” — Viktor sighed and set down his tools. He approached the Poro. With surprising gentleness, he reached out, holding the toy at the perfect angle to catch the creature’s attention.

The Poro sniffed it, intrigued, before pouncing.

“See?” — Viktor said, holding the Poro in place with one hand while it gnawed happily on the toy. — “It is not so difficult.”

Jayce folded his arms, watching with a surprised smile. — “You’re good at this. I guess all those late nights in the lab have taught you patience.”

“Or perhaps I am simply better at adapting than you.” — Viktor’s smirk was subtle, but it lingered.

Jayce chuckled. — “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.” — Viktor replied.

They stood in silence for a moment, Viktor holding the Poro steady while Jayce leaned against the table, watching the two of them. The afternoon sunlight caught in Viktor’s pale features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the focused intensity of his eyes.

“You know,” — Jayce began, his voice quieter, — “you’re always surprising me.”

Viktor glanced at him, eyebrow raised. — “Am I?”

“Yeah. Like,” — He paused for a second — “I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person who’s good with animals. But… you are.”

“Hmm.” — Viktor considered this for a moment before returning his attention to the Poro. — “I suppose I have an affinity for difficult creatures.”

Jayce laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. — “Are you calling me a difficult creature?”

“Do you require constant supervision and occasionally eat things you should not?” — Viktor shot him a sidelong glance.

Jayce held up his hands in mock surrender. — “Okay, fair-”

The Poro squeaked suddenly, leaping from Viktor’s hands and bounding toward another set of delicate instruments.

“Not again,” — Viktor sighed, already moving to intercept. Jayce followed, their shoulders brushing as they reached the table at the same time. Viktor’s hand caught the Poro, and Jayce steadied the precarious setup of tools.

For a moment, they were close, closer than usual. The Poro squirmed between them, but neither moved.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said quietly, his tone neutral but his gaze intent. — “You are staring again.”

Jayce blinked, caught off guard by Viktor’s observation. The air between them felt heavier now. He straightened awkwardly, still holding the resistor, and glanced away.

“I, uh… wasn’t staring,” — Jayce said, his voice not quite as confident as usual.

Viktor’s expression softened just a fraction, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back slightly, shifting his weight onto his prosthetic as his golden eyes lingered on Jayce.

“You are a terrible liar,” — Viktor replied, his voice quieter now, almost teasing.

Jayce exhaled a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. — “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just too good at reading people.”

“That is possible,” — Viktor admitted, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, studying Jayce as if trying to decipher an equation. — “But it is not often you are at a loss for words. I find it…interesting.”

Jayce’s pulse quickened under Viktor’s gaze, and he suddenly felt very warm in the already stuffy lab. — “You’ve got this way of throwing me off balance, you know that?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. — “And here I thought you were the unshakable one.”

For a moment, silence fell between them, broken only by the faint hum of the outside world and the occasional chirp from the Poro, now happily chewing on its toy on the other side of the room. Jayce hesitated, then took a small step closer.

“Viktor,” — he began, his voice low, — “I don’t know if I’m just imagining this, but…”

“You are not,” — Viktor interrupted, his tone even, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Jayce’s breath caught. Viktor rarely spoke so plainly, and hearing him admit it sent a rush of heat through Jayce’s chest. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing Viktor’s forearm. Viktor didn’t pull away.

“Are you sure about this?” — Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper. — “Am I reading the signs correctly?”

“Yes” — Viktor broke the silence after a few long teasing seconds.

Jayce smiled, his heart pounding as he closed the remaining distance between them. The quiet hum of the lab seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of their breaths, shallow and uneven. He lifted his hand, fingers trembling slightly as he lightly cupped Viktor’s jaw. Viktor’s skin was cool under his touch, his breath hitching in response.

Viktor’s hand hovered uncertainly at Jayce’s waist before finally settling there, his grip hesitant but firm. Jayce felt a shiver run through him at the contact, his chest tightening as he took in the vulnerability in Viktor’s gaze.

Slowly, he leaned in, his thumb brushing along the sharp line of Viktor’s cheekbone. When their lips met, it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters. Viktor tensed briefly, but then he relaxed, leaning into the kiss with a quiet sigh.

Jayce’s hand slid to the back of Viktor’s neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Viktor’s fingers tightened at Jayce’s waist, drawing him in as if the space between them was unbearable. It was unlike anything Jayce had expected… soft, electric, and somehow grounding all at once.

Viktor’s other hand came up, tentative at first, brushing against Jayce’s chest before resting there. Jayce could feel Viktor’s pulse through his fingertips, quick and unsteady, mirroring his own. Their movements grew less cautious, lips parting as the kiss turned warmer, more urgent.

Jayce’s free hand found Viktor’s waist, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his coat. Viktor responded with a quiet noise in his throat. He pressed closer, feeling the cool edge of Viktor’s prosthetic against his leg, a detail that grounded the moment in reality despite the overwhelming intensity.

“Jayce,” — Viktor murmured against his lips, the sound low and breathless.

“Yeah?” — Jayce replied, his voice rough as he barely pulled back.

Viktor didn’t answer, instead tugging him back into another kiss, hungrier this time. Jayce’s hand slid down to Viktor’s hip, fingers gripping just hard enough to make Viktor’s breath hitch again.

And then—

The door creaked open.

Jayce and Viktor broke apart with the speed of two guilty schoolchildren, Jayce stumbling back into a stool, nearly knocking it over. Viktor turned sharply, his hand darting to adjust the nearest instrument as if he’d been working all along.

“Ah, there you are!” — Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice filled the lab as he bustled in, utterly unaware of the thick air of awkwardness hanging between them.

“I’ve come back for our little friend,” — Heimerdinger continued, oblivious to the tension. — “The council meeting finished ahead of schedule, and I believe it’s time for a walk, and perhaps a treat!”

Jayce cleared his throat, his face burning as he tried to compose himself. — “Oh, uh, great! He’s… been fine. No trouble at all.” — He shot Viktor a quick glance, but Viktor was steadfastly avoiding his gaze, his attention fixed on the tools in front of him.

Heimerdinger crouched down to scoop up the Poro, who chirped happily at the sight of its owner. — “Ah, there you are, my mischievous little friend! I trust you didn’t cause too much chaos?”

The Poro squeaked innocently as it nuzzled against Heimerdinger’s face.

“No chaos,” — Jayce said quickly, flashing a nervous smile.— “Everything was… under control.”

“Splendid!” — Heimerdinger said, cradling the Poro like a prized treasure. He glanced around the lab, seemingly pleased with what he saw. —“And you’ve made excellent progress, I see. Such dedicated young minds, you make me proud!”

“Thank you, Professor,” — Viktor said smoothly, though there was a slight stiffness to his tone.

Heimerdinger didn’t seem to notice. — “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work any longer. You’ve certainly earned some peace and quiet.” — He gave a final, beaming smile before heading toward the door, the Poro perched happily in his arms.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the lab in heavy silence once again.

Jayce exhaled a long breath, running a hand through his hair. —“That was…”

“Fortunate,” — Viktor finished, his voice dry but his cheeks faintly flushed.

Jayce turned to him, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. — “I thought he was never going to leave.”

Before Jayce could say anything else, Viktor leaned in, his lips brushing against Jayce’s in a quick, soft kiss. It was light, almost tentative, but enough to send a jolt of warmth through Jayce’s chest.

When they pulled away, Jayce smiled, his heart racing. —“I think we’re good,” he murmured.

Viktor’s lips curled into a soft smile. — “For now.”

[misssakuramochi]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR SENKU

Age Rating: N/A

Warnings: None

Genre: General, Fluff

○ Senku is the most practically-minded and goal-driven man currently alive; romance is neither practical, nor his goal. What I'm trying to say is it takes both a person as unique and as patient as Senku himself to put it into his mind. Any romantic feelings on Senku's end are extremely gradual, and develop over time spent together, learning to trust and rely on one another. By the time Senku realizes how he feels he's too far gone to fight it.

○ Much as Senku can't fight his own brain, he still hopes things will pass over time if he focuses on other things. It probably takes Senku's romantic interest to initiate, picking up on him drawing away and confronting him about it, before anything will truly progress anywhere. It takes Senku some time to ease into the idea of a romantic relationship though, so he'll need some time to process before giving them a proper answer. In the end, he's upfront that his own goals and love of science will always be his first priority, but if they can put up with that he can't deny that he finds them exhilarating.

○ Dating Senku, honestly, isn't all that different from being his friend. For the most part Senku treats his partner the same way after he starts dating them as he did before. Mushy, flowery words that don't mean anything are a waste of time in Senku's mind, and cute little dates are a waste of valuable production time. He's probably the least romantic boyfriend in recorded history. That being said, there are some differences in how he treats his partner once they start dating - they just tend to be more subtle. Senku takes to teasing his partner more often to see their cute flustered face, is a touch more protective socially, and puts up with much more from them then he would most others. 

○ Additionally, once Senku has settled into a relationship, he actually relies on his partner more heavily. If he’s dating them he certainly admires them in some way or another, and holding back their talents because he’s worried unnecessarily would be illogical - it would also hold them back from growing, and having a relationship where he and his partner constantly inspire and push one another to be the best they can be is important to Senku. As such, Senku makes even fuller use of his partner’s abilities once they’re together as he’s able to get a much more intimate understanding of the strengths, weaknesses, and limitations. Of course, they always have his support ten-billion percent behind them in whatever task he’s appointed them to, or anything they take on for themselves. They’re partners in every sense of the word, and they work together with full trust behind them.

○ Senku's lack of use for dramatic prose shouldn't be confused for either a lack of communication nor a lack of praise. Quite the opposite, in fact, Senku is an extremely honest and forthright partner. Though his bluntness can absolutely be harsh and hard to hear, Senku's partner never has to worry what he thinks or where they stand. He'll just tell them. While this does mean he's expecting to be able to have the hard conversations at least productively, it also means his partner knows he's not just flattering them when he compliments them. Senku encourages the same kind of honesty and communication from his significant other, too. After all, how can they work together if they can't communicate?

○ As aforementioned, Senku's first and greatest love will always be science. Sharing this passion is one of the biggest ways Senku tries to show his partner he loves them. Though he's perfectly happy indulging in his version of quality time (read as: being in the same room as his partner while he experiments and researches and they do… whatever they want, really) he's elated whenever he has an opportunity to explain something he's working on and how it works. Though he hardly expects his partner to follow every equation and formula, he can't help but feel his heart flutter when they ask questions and try their best to follow - just a little bit.

○ Eventually Senku sharing his love of science as a way to show his partner he loves them evolves into gift giving; specifically, he’ll make gadgets for them of varying complexity. Of course, these creations are always extremely practical in nature (Jewelry? Why would he make them something useless like that? Flowers? What, do they want to try making medicine?? You get the idea.) but they’re romantic in Senku’s own way. Very often whatever gift he provides them with is a direct solution to some complaint they’d brought up at some point or another, even if he won’t tell them that directly.

○ Which brings us to the point of Senku having an impeccable memory when it comes to his partner. Of course, Senku has a sterling memory in general, but he’s extra sure to keep any information about his partner locked away for safekeeping, regardless as to how mundane it may seem at the time. Senku wants to understand how the person he’s learning to love ticks, how they think and why. It’s rather often than Senku will surprise his partner by bringing up something they’d mentioned what feels to them like ages ago - though he always downplays their obvious surprise that he cared enough to remember as if was an obvious thing to do (it is for him, but admitting it would be cringey.) Senku’s genuine interest in his partner makes him a fantastic listener.

○ It’s also that genuine interest that makes him scarily perceptive when it comes to his partner. He’s studied them, consciously and not, and he knows their tells. If something seems to be wrong Senku isn’t the type to let it go, either, and his complete lack of fear around blunt confrontation make it almost impossible for his partner to lie to, or hide anything from him. If there’s a problem the most obvious thing to do is to find a solution and fix it, so that’s his goal and he won’t let up until he’s able to start working on that solution. Unfortunately, this also makes it almost impossible for Senku’s partner to surprise him with anything ever - at least without a little help from friends.

○ It’s almost subconscious, but Senku involves his partner in every consequential project he can get them on board for. It isn’t that he’s clingy; far from it, actually. Senku is perfectly happy to spend time on his own and has absolutely no trouble entertaining himself for extended periods of time. Senku’s partner is more often than not the one seeking him out to spend more time together if anything. All that is to say that it’s less that he requires his partner’s company, and more that he becomes rather attached to being able to share accomplishments with them. The closer they become, the more the idea of finishing a sizable project without their smiling face cheering for the victory next to him makes him feel dissatisfied.

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Dr. Stone has had me in a vice grip recently, and this perfect little leek will not leave my brain alone. I hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Requests are currently OPEN, so feel free to ping my inbox with anything you'd like to see written!

Safe travels, reader!

[n30n-l1ghts]

Tokyo revengers basic NSFW headcannons pt. 2

Characters- Taiju, Inui, Koko, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Izana, Shinichiro, Wakasa, Benkei, Takeomi

Read the first part here

Proofread by my lovely partner @nxll-n4m3

Taiju-

Chat I think we know. I think we KNOW this man has a MONSTER cock chat. Ain't nobody arguing that. He's 6'5" and built like a fucking 18 wheeler, yeah no question he's hung. 8.7. and I KNOW that's unethical. Trust me, he knows it too. And he'd be more cocky about it if it didn't dissuade almost everyone from even attempting to take that. I feel like he wouldn't have much, if any experience. I can see him sleeping around a teensy bit to relieve stress and then getting really guilty about it. But then again, he's a very pious man, so I can also absolutely see him saving himself for marriage (though he might cheat a teensy bit with oral or mutual masturbation) speaking of which, this man is SO guilty about falling for a guy. You're gonna have to deal with the world's most internalized homophobe ever. Religious trauma is a hell of a thing. A swift topic change, grooming. I don't see him caring much, but he will tidy it up a bit if you want him to. All while very loudly grumble curses under his breath of course. Long, thick, black and surprisingly not all that curly.

Seishu-

He gives me the vibe of someone who can be surprisingly subby if he trusts you enough. But he'd need to REALLY trust you to be that vulnerable in your presence. He's absolutely a switch and I don't think he actually has much of a preference, apart from the fact that he's more top and dom leaning the less he knows you. Then again, he has to trust you a fair amount to get into bed with you anyways, this boy does not sleep around even a little. Actually he hates the idea and finds it a little scumbaggy. As for physical description, pretty middle of the road both in size and grooming. 6.2-3, absolutely a grower and not a shower. His cock is the same really pale colour as his skin. He keeps himself a little tidy down south, but can't be bothered to give it more than a trim every now and again. Wispy and blonde, honestly looks almost white in the right lighting.

Koko-

Fancy rich boy smells like fancy rich soap and fancy rich cologne. Nah jk, that man wears perfume not cologne, and honestly, more power to him, he pulls it the fuck off. I think he's very cleanly. Clean, orderly, and fancy shmancy. Tell me why I think he'd own stupid expensive lingerie? I know he would. He swears up down and sideways the first time you find them that they're not for him to wear (they totally are). Pretty big toy collection too, can't convince me otherwise. This man needs his ass ate, I don't make the rules, I just work here. He NEEDS IT. He's super clean down there so it's not gross or anything, and it's just about his favorite activity. In other words, eat the rich- (who said that-) decent 5.7, not particularly large, but enough to get the job done. He's another one I feel like honestly might prefer being clean shaven. He might have a small tuft of curly black hairs, but it would definitely be meticulously kept as he can't stand the feeling of too much hair down there, it annoys him to no end.

Ran-

Biggest tease. BIGGEST TEASE. Brat. BRAT. He's a switch, but by God is he a pain in the ass as a bottom. He doesn't know the meaning of the word submit. He will get on your nerves and try to provoke you until you're fed up and just bend him over the nearest surface. Lowkey gives me the vibe of an exhibitionist. Like, semi-public sex would turn him on so much. Drag him into a bathroom or random alleyway and he'll pop an instant boner. Definitely a brat taming kink and it goes both ways, it's just whoever feels like putting the other in their place, he's cool with it either way. Pull his hair, wrap your hand around his throat, he's a lil freaky freak like that. Really though, an experimentalist, he's willing to try damn near anything at least twice. Definitely has a fair amount of experience, total fuckboy over here. He has a revolving door of guys and gals that want to get in those pants. It's really not that hard to do, what is hard to do is get into that heart. (Cheesy I know) But seriously, if you somehow manage to actually bag this man, you have him under lock and key and he's yours forever, loyal as a dog despite what you might think. Probably about 6.10ish maybe pushing 7" when fully erect. Man's is six feet tall, he's got some length to him, just saying. I feel like he would stay on top of grooming pretty alright, largely because of how much he likes to sleep around, he needs to be presentable down there at all times just in case he randomly bags a hottie while he's out. After getting into a relationship, he's a bit more indifferent to it, but still likes to keep it a little tidy for your sake.

Rindou-

A lot of people assume he's also a fuckboy because of Ran, he's not, and that assumption actually bugs him a lot. He finds sleeping around to be pointless and stupid, and he lowkey kind of silently judges Ran for it. He's a sadistic assholes that loves mocking your whining. At least in the bedroom, he's surprisingly sweet otherwise and just in general. But that same sadistic side that shows when he's fighting shows through during sex. I feel like he might bottom with some convincing, but he'll also be a brat. (A brat that sobs openly when edged enough) However he'll do the same to you when things are the other way around. To my masochistic brothers, here's your man. He's safe and consensual about it, maybe periodically checking up on you but he will absolutely pull your hair, bite you, whip you, spank you, slap you, hell maybe even spit on you if that's your thing. He's a pretty big S&M guy in general, but is the world's biggest enthusiast of *safely* practicing bdsm. Informed consent is key with this man (as it fucking should be). He's the type who likes music in the background, but he is willing to let you choose the music. He can go without, but he prefers it with. 6.7 in length I feel like sounds about right for him. He may or may not decide to actually groom down there, no real guarantee, it depends on the day and how he feels. I headcannon him to be borderline or straight up gender fluid, swapping between cis masc and enby. Some days he prefers it with a little bush and other days he's just like "No. No this cannot do, it must go." So, y'know- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Sanzu-

Oh, where do I even start with this batshit crazy bastard of a druggie (He's just like me frfr). Admittedly, probably doesn't sleep around much, even though he tries. His crazy scares almost everyone away, if the scars didn't already do the trick (wanna know how I got these scars lookin' headass) but honestly, you probably met him at a bar or a club, and he was probably flirting with you because he's high as shit. I can't see him easily getting into a relationship, but when he does he's absolutely infatuated. Devoted. You are his god. It's almost unsettling how far he's willing to go for you. That also translates into the bedroom. He has his preferences, (AHEM body worship) but assuming he truly does love you and it's not just some spur of the moment one nighter, he's more than willing to do anything, and I mean ANYTHING to please you. No kink too nasty or too far for him. He'll do that in everyday life too. If want him to buy something for you, legal or illegal, he'll do it. He'll make it happen. You hate someone, or someone getting creepy on you? They suddenly go *cough cough* "missing". He loves him some high sex, but I can see him wanting to be at least mostly sober during sex if you're dating. To savor the experience, really. He would totally get high after though. Snorting lines after sex is his go to. A little on the smaller side-ish, maybe around 5.4 or so. But he can use it pretty well if he's sober. He gets sloppy and borderline animalistic when high. He does not care AT ALL about grooming, but again he'd blow up the sun for you if he truly loves you, so he'd do it before you could finish blinking if you ever asked him to.

Izana-

Our favorite half Filipino boy right here. First things first. Sensitive. This man is so incredibly starved for attention and love, he can handle the hardest punches like a champ, but if you lightly and lovingly trace his skin, he's gone. He's dead, putty in your hands. His mind buffers like he's running on widows xp with dial up. He cannot compute this. Rough sex he's fine with, it's probably what he's used to, what he's comfortable with. But soft, gentle, slow sex? It's gonna take a minute to build up to that point. But seriously, hold this man like he's made of glass for a minute, he needs it. He'll complain about it, but he loves it. He so desperately needs someone to show him that sunshine and rainbows even exist at all. He's possesive too. If you show him an ounce of affection, he'll demand gallons and will never let anyone near you. Because how dare you even consider showing anyone else that same affection? It's like how he hates Mikey because of his jealousy over Shinichiro. Anyone who he deems to be a threat, he'll hate them (he's borderlining yandere) Really he's just jealous because he's insecure, give him reassurance and he'll calm down. Well, somewhat. I can imagine him being pretty middle of the road, 5.8 would be my guess. Another type who doesn't pay much mind to his grooming down there, especially in the time skip. Much like Sanzu, this man damn near worships you, so yeah, he'd start manscaping in a heartbeat if you wanted him to. Just ask and he'll do it. Main difference is with Sanzu you 100% have to tell him verbally or he'll never pick up on. Izana may or may not notice if you dislike it, still better to just tell him though. (Communication is good chat, talk to your partners jfc)

Shinichiro-

Awkward dork. Total dweeb and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. He's a loser and a lame-o, and we all love him for it. He's so babygirl coded fr. He will do everything in his power to please you (and probably fail miserably) whether in the bedroom or not. He tries though, his heart is in the right place and that's what counts. Though he can get a little dejected and self conscious about it, so you just have to remind him that it doesn't bother you and that he's fine the way he is. Please tell him he's fine the way he is. He's tried to dirty talk once before, but ended up stuttering and then became self aware halfway through, visibly cringing because let's be honest, whatever he said was probably pretty cringy. But it just wound up in both of you laughing about it, both in the moment, and looking back on it later. But he does really love you, and it shows in everything he does. I feel like he'd really like cuddle fucking and missionary. Really, he just wants to feel close to you. He likes to be able to hug you while you fuck. He can't dirty talk for the life of him as previously discussed, so he's usually not very verbal, only really moaning out curses or your name. Don't get me wrong, he's vocal, just not verbal. Occasionally when he's in the mood for a more rough type of encounter, he can and will turn into a babbling mess underneath you. However, if you dirty talk to him at all, he will absolutely lose his mind and go beet red, hiding his face in your chest or the crook of your neck. This boy loves nothing more than looking into your eyes, carresing you and kissing you during sex. He's a hopeless romantic is what he is. Actually decently long, 7.6, makes sense, he's over six foot. I feel like he'd definitely try to groom down there when you're dating, but he might fuck up a little and nick himself a couple times. But as always, hell make an effort to look his best and do his best for you.

Wakasa-

Ahem. Point to the best ass eater please?

👉w a k a s a i m a u s h i👈

But seriously. This man's tongue is magical (yes I'm biased, he's my fav leave me tf alone) but really, he gives me the vibe of someone who knows what he's doing. He's got experience and ✨talent✨ in regards to sexy time. And he's strong enough to toss your ass around like a raggedy anne doll, even despite how short he is. C'mon, he's owns a gym and he absolutely kicks ass in a fight, you cannot convince me he couldn't throw me like a tennis ball (I want him to so badly.) Stoner vibes. Hardcore stoner vibes. This man is constantly at least a little buzzed and he's absolutely a plug. You cannot convince me otherwise, I won't listen. This shit is gospel. I feel like he'd be willing to put in some effort for his s/o, but he's a total pillow princess at heart. Whether you're riding him or railing him, as long as he feels good and doesn't have to do shit, he's a happy boy. Really he's just spoiled, doesn't feel like working for a damn thing. He'll get really pouty if you make him beg or work for it, but if you torment and torture him enough he'll comply eventually. Waka is another body worshiper I feel like. Sure, he's a pillow princess, but he likes to have his hands roaming every inch of you at all possible times. His hands and his lips. The softest touches paired with the softest kisses, peppered all over your skin because he just can't get over how perfect you are to him. If you've read my Akihiko x Stoner reader fic, I can imagine that type of scenario. You riding him or him riding you while you share a blunt, just hotboxing yourselves in your room with slow, lazy sex, all of your sense through the damn roof. Another music lover, just something soft and really chill in the background, even better when paired with a good blunt. He's touchy in general when he's high, always having to have contact with you, and he just can't keep himself off of you, same applies to the bedroom, always caressing you without even realizing it. He's packing a relatively solid 5.6. not shabby considering that he's five foot fucking three. Short king, but we love him anyways. I SAID WE STAND WITH OUR SHORT KINGS. He strikes me as the type who grooms semi-frequently, but doesn't obsess about it. He's a lazy guy, but at the same time he doesn't like to be gross y'know? He maintains it, but it's the bare minimum.

Benkei-

Gentle giant, anyone? Because that's what he is. At least when he's with you. Sure, he's only 6'2", but he's pretty fucking wide too. That, and his overall demeanour and personality just gives him the vibe of a big guy. Despite his strength and his tendency to have a hot temper sometimes, he's surprisingly gentle with you. Of course, that's unless you ask him not to be. He'd never dare lay a hand on you in everyday life, but the bedroom has different rules as we all know. He's a big fan of setting up concrete and mutually agreed upon boundaries, and there always has to be a safe word. (Honestly how it should be) Even if you don't have a consent kink, it is undeniabley impressive how hot he can make asking you for verbal consent. He needs explicit verbal consent each time, and absolutely refuses to do anything if either of you are even a little intoxicated unless it was previously discussed. He's such a gentleman in that respect honestly. He'll always listen to your preferences and prioritize your needs first. Even if your into that freaky shit and he's telling you he's just using you as a cock sleeve, really he's always chasing your pleasure more than his own. It's just how he rolls. 7.10, and I will not elaborate. That seems pretty appropriate for him, honestly. He likes to have a bush, but he likes to keep it well kept and trimmed, like how he keeps his beard quite orderly. So there is a tuft of hair down there, black or white, I'm not sure (his natural hair colour isn't confirmed, but I doubt he'd bother dying it.) and it is very well kept. Manscaping is just a part of his everyday routine, same as maintaining his facial hair, he doesn't even think twice about it anymore.

Takeomi-

Another slightly awkward dork, but he tries to pretend he's all confident. May or may not lie about how much experience he has. He might tell you he's slept around a fair bit and dated a lot of people to impress you, but it's obvious he hasn't by how nervous he gets around you. He desperately tried to hide his nervousness too. We all know he's greedy and can get a little self obsessed at times. And I can see why that might make you think that he'd be too much of a narcissist to be a good partner, and I'd say you're only about a quarter right. Yes, having a partner like you would absolutely go to his head a bit. He thinks you're like the best person to ever grace this earth, so he thinks it's a major flex that you'd choose *him* of all people. He would absolutely show you off like some kind of trophy, number one hype man right here. You become his source of pride, next to his gang. I fully believe he's another straight up worshipping type, he thinks you're way too good for him, and as a result hails you like some kind of god and will flaunt you with pleasure. Though if close enough to him, he might be more willing to be vulnerable around you and admit to his overwhelming insecurities and lack of self esteem. It's no secret that his sense of self worth is derived from achievements and material possessions, which is just a tad bit of an issue. Just a tad. This all 100% translates into the bedroom. Tries so hard and fails so miserably to act confident. He'd be more likely to top especially towards the beginning because he feels he has something to prove, he feels that he needs to be more dominant just to show you he cares. But with some time, discussion and a fuckload of reassurance, he'd be willing to bottom. May or may not feel a bit emasculated by it though. Could be a bit of a whiner/whimperer, but again, it takes him a minute to be that comfortable. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just really doesn't want you to think less of him. Same thing applies to grooming. The only reason he even tries is because he wants to look halfway decent for you. He wants to impress and come across as though he cares. If he cares for himself that makes it seem like he's more capable of caring for you, right? Well, that's his logic anyways. Likes to keep a decent sized tuft of hair because it makes him feel more masculine. Pretty well kept though if I'm being honest, he does a halfway decent job.