#you can see the difference in the hands probably

[lunarxcity]

Why you? (Part IV to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Now Azriel is in his healing era, don't worry he does suffer in this chapter so prepare for the azriel angst. You can't be in a healthy relationship when you are mentally at your worst and lashing out at everyone around you and Azriel is learning this the hard way.)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, and III if you missed them!

-

They say that misery breeds loneliness, or was it misery likes company, either way Azriel couldn't remember how it went but he knew he felt miserable and alone.

You were gone and Rhys had banned him from seeing Elain, even though it didn't matter. He couldn't even look at her without feeling crushing guilt. Guilt for considering killing your friend for the sole reason of him wanting to fight for his mate, which any honorable fae male would have done. Guilt for possibly driving you out from the Night Court. Guilt for dragging Elain into this and then ignoring her.

To say that Azriel has been a mess would be an understatement. After needing to sleep in your bed to calm himself down the night you left, he hasn't had a decent night's sleep. At this point, his dark circles had dark circles, he hadn't shaved, and he has basically been on autopilot for the past 3 months.

Him and Rhys hadn't been on good terms for the first month, but he came around and apologised for the way he spoke to him. They were civil, but Azriel didn't know how he could be close with him again after what he said. If you were there you would have played the peacekeeper, telling him what to say and scolding Rhys for his lack of sensitivity. He thinks about you more than he would care to admit, which is saying something because he's been admitting it a lot lately.

The first 2 weeks were so rough for Azriel that he threw himself into his work, not talking to anyone and even missing his training which he can't recall having ever done. He walked into the training ring and first thing Cassian did when he saw him for the first time since the night you left was laugh and say, "Oh brother, you look a bit rough for wear. You have obviously had better days."

Azriel didn't say anything. His face was set in the same straight-faced look that he had been wearing every day. He just walked up to Cassian and began fighting him. You would think that missing 2 weeks of training out of the hundreds of years wouldn't make a difference, but he had lost every single sparring match between him and Cassian. You would have loved to see it, you probably would have been on the sidelines laughing saying that Azriel needed to be humbled with his snowball fight record. His thoughts strayed to you and he was immediately snapped out of it by Cassian landing a blow on his right jaw sending Azriel to the ground."

"You seem distracted brother. I am always here if you want to talk." He holds his hand out as a truce, but Azriel doesn't take it. He was upset and in pain and feeling a flurry of emotions that he didn't know how to deal with. He picked himself up and told Cassian, "I appreciate it brother, but I don't need you or Nesta or Rhys trying to fix me." Granted he realised he was being a bit dramatic, but his adrenaline was high and didn't know how to deal with what he was feeling, let alone what he was feeling.

Azriel turns his back on Cassian, beginning to storm off from the training ring. "You think she would want you to suffer in Silence? To keep hurting everyone else because you're trying to outrun your problems? " Azriel stilled. "If she cared enough, she wouldn't have left. Why should I care about myself when she is so repulsed by me that she would prefer an enemy of the Night Court's company over mine?" His voice was ice that sending shivers down Cassians spine, this was the feared Spymaster of the Night Court speaking, not his brother.

"For someone who's job it is to collect information, you truly do not know anything." Cassian shook his head and took off into the sky before Azriel could say anything.

Great now that's two of his brother's that he's not on great terms with. Things with Cassian continued to be tense and since he was also on Rocky grounds with Rhys, things had become a bit awkward with Feyre and Nesta. Yes they were polite and would invite him to things and he would still have his weekly coffee with Nesta, but things were a lot more tense since they couldn't even bring up their mates.

No one in the inner circle would bring you up, not to Azriel at least. He knew they talked about you and Azriel, both in friendly hangouts he wasn't invited to and the family dinners that he had been dodging. He knew that they probably had a lot to say when the insomnia had gotten so bad that he needed to take residence in your room. He doesn't know the exact details because the shadows have been withholding information from him too. Just what he needed another person who had an issue with him, this one actually being part of him.

At this point he was on the best terms with Amren which actually started an unlikely friendship. He must have looked so pathetic for Amren to invite him over for tea. It started with talks of the prison, which then led to the inner circle, which then led to inner workings of the Night Court. Tea with Amren became a normal ordeal, she didn't treat him differently and was the same blunt Amren she's always been. It was a good distraction.

He wore the gloves you had gifted him regularly, even if his hands weren't bothering him, he liked the sense of comfort he felt when he wore them. He still felt a mix of emotions when he thinks about your departure, he's angry with you for leaving him here like this, sad because he feels like you have given up on him, and most of all feeling like he's an idiot because all he wants is for you to come home. To come back to him.

Rhys had assigned him on his first mission, a recon mission in the Dawn Court. Azriel had begged to go to the Autumn Court, to at least check on you and make sure you're okay, but Rhys immediately shut him down every time. It's a two week long mission and he was ready to go. The blade you gave him for Solstice had been left in your desk, since Azriel moved to your room. It was too special to him to risk damaging it, so he left it there but he feels like he wouldn't be doing your gift justice if he didn't wear it on his mission.

At this point it had been about 6 weeks without you. He took the blade from the sheath you had also had made for him and inspected it. The silver metal shone in the sunlight, and the blade was the thinnest and sharpest he had ever seen. Outside the silver edge of the blade there was a clear outlining that went all the way around the edges of the blade. He assumed this was the blood bind, so Azriel took the blade and sliced his left hand. The blood weld and the blade absorbed it, the clear lining turned red with blood and once it had decided that was enough blood spilled to activate the blood bond, the red turned into a shimmering black.

Azriel admired and then sheathed the blade. He turned and looked at himself in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight. He truly did look terrible, the beauty of the blade you had crafted for him a contrast over his current ragged state. Your blade. That you had made for him.

Azriel knew he hadn't been the greatest friend lately. He skipped the things you guys would usually do to try and get to know Elain better, his reasoning being you guys have already spent so much time together and would have so much more. He wishes he could go back in time and deck himself for even thinking that. He misses your coffee runs. He misses pranking Rhys with you. He misses laughing with you at Cassian being well Cassian. He misses your laugh.

He doesn't even need you there, he would take whatever small part of you he can and would happily thank the Mother for even allowing him that small respite. He's coming to realise that in the midst of his cruel and miserable existence, you had been the one ray of light in his life and that when the Mother decides that it's his time and he's nothing more than stardust scattered across the universe or the Mother decides to take her revenge for the sins he's committed in this life that it's the sound of your laugh that would carry him away. If the Mother was good she would allow him the luxury of scattering you with him, but ashes are plentiful and he only needs a single ember.

In the silence of your room, haunted by the ghost of your absence Azriel breaks. Tears stream down his face for the second time in this very spot and realizes that something needs to change, that he needs to change.

When Azriel returns from his mission, he knocks on Cassian's door. Cassian opens the door, his face is straight and devoid of his usual smile. "Are you finally ready to talk or am I going to have to kick your ass again and watch you storm off and brood some more." Azriel begins to feel shy, it is not a feeling that is common to him nor one he likes. This was already very hard for him, but he also forgot that Cassian was Cassian and he wouldn't allow him to walk in like nothing happened. Azriel knods and looks at Cassian with determination in his eyes, "I'm ready." Cassian matches his seriousness and then breaks down in laughter and brings Azriel into a bone-crushing hug. "I'VE MISSED YOU BROTHER." Azriel normally would have tried to get out of it, but he needed this.

Azriel sat down and told Cassian his problems. All of them. They started mid-day and didn't end until passed out after sunrise. He told him about feeling worthless and left out. He told him about you and how he doesn't know what he did or how to fix it but does know he's going insane like this. He talked about Rhys and how that whole situation had really affected him, Cassian had no idea and was so upset that he left for an hour or two and came back bloodied. 15 minutes later Nesta came in and brought him bandages and ice while telling him good job for putting Rhys in his place.

This became regular for Azriel. Him and Cassian would talk out all his problems one by one and he would actually try to do something to fix them. Cassian talked with Madja, and Azriel was now seeing her regularly as she claimed that "illnesses of the mind must be given the same level of attention as illnesses of the body." He started showing up to family dinners again. He apologised to Elain and told her that he couldn't go on with what they were doing because he wasn't in a place for anything right now and could barely deal with himself. She understood and was happy he was finally getting the help he needed. He told her not to wait for him and that it would be better for them to remain friends and she agreed.

Azriel began doing things for himself. He went to your guys' favourite bakery on the regular. He started reading all the books you had left on your shelf. He even started playing piano again, a hobby he had long forgotten, but only remembered because found his old compositions stuffed in a book on your shelf. He had no clue how you got them, he thought they were all thrown away, but nonetheless he was glad to have them.

Things were looking up for Azriel. The only thing bothering him was that he still didn't have you here or know why you left. No one would tell him anything and they would all shut down around him when you were brought up. Conversations would quiet, and topics would be changed. This confirmed the suspicion he had from the beginning, the reason you left was directly concerned with him.

While he was getting better, Azriel did have his ups and downs. His biggest down was the realisation that you had been writing to every single person except for him and Elain. The shadows had finally decided to start talking to him again and the first thing they had told him is that they caught your scent in the house. He flew like a madman from the other side of Velaris, getting there in record time. He searched for your scent, desperate to see you, when he found a handful of envelopes, all with your name and scrawl. The ink was a dark red and the lines were too thin to be from any of your writing tools. You must be using Eris' then.

This bothered Azriel so much he almost forgot the reason why he was holding these letters. He looked at who they were addressed to and saw every single Inner Circle member had received a letter but him and Elain. He put the letters back on the desk and waited to see if anyone would bring them up. Nothing. His shadows began to update him of their arrivals. You had been regularly corresponding with them and not him. Azriel was crushed.

Nevertheless, he continued with his routine. He saw Madja regularly, became close with his family again, and began to actually do things for himself. The process was difficult and so incredibly hard, especially for someone who had been bottling things up for as long as he had.

He's even been visiting his estate lately to see his mother, as she lives on his property. He avoids her when he isn't doing well, she's been exposed to many cruelties over the span of her long life she doesn't need to deal with more. Talking with his mother has really helped. Her warm smile could brighten any day. He's missed her lately. He has a bad habit of putting the ones that he cares the most about on the back burner, but he's working on it.

It's been 3 months since you left and Azriel is finally feeling better. He was at his weekly session with Madja. It was going really well actually, well it was going really well until she causally says, "And how do you feel about a certain princess' return to the Night Court?" She asked almost sounding like a child teasing their friend in front of their crush. Azriel didn't even pick up on it. His shadows stilled and his eyes went wide. You were coming back? Back to the Night Court? Back to him?

Madja looks at him confused. She tilts her head, "You didn't know?" He shakes his head no. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and goes, "No I had no idea. I'm still the only one she hasn't spoken to." His tone bitter, but he caught himself and asked, "When is she getting back?" He hopes she'll just forget about his mini outburst just a second ago.

Madja looks surprised and Azriel is even more surprised at her confusion. She has sat here for the past few weeks hearing about him complain about your lack of communication with him, shouldn't she know that he knows nothing of this?

Madja goes, "You do know you have little shadow spies that listen in to all of your conversations?" Good to see that age hasn't dulled her sense of humour. How did he forget about that? Azriel shakes his head and goes,"Fair enough Madja."

She gives him a pitying look and sighs, "She'll come back. As far as your relationship goes, I would recommend talking it out in person. You both obviously have a lot on your minds, your relationship won't be able to move progress until you address this." Madja leans forward, like she's about to tell him a secret. "Now knowing both of you for so long, I can assure you that you guys will be fine. You're fond of each other and your biggest fear is losing each other, it's going to take a lot more than this to ruin you relationship."

Azriel looks at her agape. While this was fairly common knowledge, no one had actually sat him down and told him this. He assumed that you guys were fond of each other in the way he was fond of each of the inner circle members. Now that the dynamics of the inner circle shifted, they were all pairing up and finding their person. While you had always been close to Rhys, Azriel was the one you had usually ended up pairing up with in the end. Azriel had never come to this realisation, his entire life, he had been yearning for someone to pick him, only to drive away the one person who did.

Madja looks at him and he swears she can read his mind. She shakes her head and starts, "You were ready to die for her Azriel, when she was going to be clipped. You put yourself under the mercy of the old high lord for hundreds of years to ensure her safety and you're going to let your relationship fall apart because of what? A misunderstanding?"

Azriel stills, the conversation had escalated very quickly, leaving him speechless. He can't jump to conclusions before he even knew your side. He would talk to you and everything would be okay. It was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be.

He takes a deep breath and revels in his new found peace and clarity. The Azriel of a weeks ago would have angrily stormed off, lashing out at whatever unfortunate victim would check on him to make sure he's okay, but he's getting better now. He isn't anywhere near perfect, he is the same Azriel, but he hopes that when you get back he will be someone that is deserving to have you in their life without taking you for granted.

He takes a deep breath in and out. "Okay. When is the soonest I can speak with her?"

-

note: Azriel self-help arc time! Yes he did suffer for a bit and yes he will suffer a lot more so don't you worry, but I do think he deserves a little respite. He's coming to his senses... slowly. Thank you all for the support on this series I know we've hit a bit of a slow point in the storyline but there will be the reunion in the next episode which will be explosive one way or another so keep an eye out for that. Until next time loves!

note note: I probably will stop putting out chapters at this speed because I want to actually be able to edit them and the next parts are really important to the story and I do want to get it right :)

taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐒𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝—𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: If you're gonna eat something, at least check the wrapper before putting it in your mouth.

Warnings: Aphrodisiac chocolates. SMUT 🔞. Rough Dom Roommate!Hyunjin (is mentioned to be kind of a playboy). Unprotected hard sex, hair pulling, overstim, oral (f. recieving), multiple positions, orgasms, dirty talk, cussing, filthy, degradation, creampie, cum eating, name calling & pet names, mentions of the pill, confessions, to lovers at the end. Holy hell that's a lot—

Note: To be honest, idrk how this chocolate works fr. I wrote this after seeing a few review videos and some fics I read. But again, anything works in fiction so just let it feed your delulu.

Minors do not interact!!!

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count:5.5k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Work this week sucked.

So much to the point that you were begging for the weekend to come over as soon as possible every night since Monday.

Finally it's here.

And you like a weekend without plans because then you can just go back to your apartment, slip into your PJ's and binge Netflix with a tub of ice cream for 48 hours.

Your boss—who technically wasn't your boss but the director of another department—had you running around the office like a dog the entire week which increased your urge to punch him in the face.

What was he thinking?

But like the good employee you are, you did all the tasks at hand before slipping on your coat and bag and leaving the office as fast as you could.

Man you needed something sweet to wash this headache away.

You walked into the nearest supermarket, tapping away on your phone, texting your bestie about the new concert tickets you wanna buy later tonight.

The doors slid open and you knew the aisles by heart, you walked into the candy section and grabbed a few wrapped pieces of chocolate that was on the shelf.

Oh you dumb girl, read the label.

But you couldn't care less.

You slipped your phone between your neck and shoulder calling your bestie about the tickets as you walked over to the counter with the chocolates in your hand.

You didn't even bother to spare a glance at the cashier who watched you with equal amounts of genuine shock and horror as you unwrapped a piece and shoved it into your mouth, stuffing the wrapper in the pocket of your jacket.

Everything was fine but by the time you reached your apartment, something felt… off.

Your skin felt warmer than usual, your breath a little heavier. You tugged at the collar of your shirt, frowning. Maybe the stress was finally catching up with you?

Brushing it off, you unlocked the door, stepping inside—only to freeze in your tracks.

Hyunjin—your annoyingly handsome, sexy and single roommate—was sprawled on the couch, shirtless, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, scrolling on his phone, completely oblivious to your presence.

His hair was slightly damp, probably from a recent shower, strands falling effortlessly into his eyes.

It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him like this before. Living together meant accidental glimpses of bare skin and passing each other in various states of undress.

But right now? Right now, your body reacted differently.

Your mouth went dry, your stomach coiling with something unfamiliar. Your eyes traced the lines of his toned torso, the sharp definition of his abs, the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips.

You clenched your fists at your sides.

Why did he have to look like that today, of all days?

He sensed you standing frozen near the doorway, looking up at from his phone, his lips parted in mild acknowledgment before his brows furrowed slightly.

“You good?” His voice was deep, casual, but you swore it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I—I’m fine,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to look away as you kicked off your shoes. The heat spreading through your body only intensified.

It was unbearable. Your fingers twitched, desperate for relief from an ache you barely understood.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly as he sat up. “Are you sure? You look kinda... flushed.”

Of course, he would notice. Your annoying, perceptive roommate.

You turned away, removing your jacket and hanging it on the coat hanger, something falling out of the pocket but you didn't notice it.

“It’s just hot in here,” you muttered, heading toward the kitchen, needing something—anything—to distract yourself.

Hyunjin eyed you curiously for a few seconds, before looking back into his phone, you opened the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water.

You twisted off the cap with slightly trembling fingers, taking a long gulp but it didn’t help one bit. Slowly you walked into your bedroom.

Hyunjin watched you disappear into your room before something at the doorway caught the corner of his eye.

He got up and picked up the wrapper on the floor, his eyes widening before he let out a sharp laugh.

Inside your room, you were going crazy. Your body buzzed, hot and bothered. You needed release, so badly that you turned to your nightstand, looking for your favourite toy.

You got on the bed, grabbing it, attempting to turn it on, only to realise the thing was out of battery. You stared at the lifeless toy in your hands, frustration curling in your stomach.

The ache between your thighs was unbearable, a deep, throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

A sudden knock on your door made you jolt. “Yo.” Hyunjin’s voice was muffled but clear, amusement laced in his tone. “You might wanna explain why you were eating aphrodisiac chocolates without knowing.”

Your entire body went rigid. What?!

Oh you absolute idiot.

Your silence made him twist the doorknob and enter your room, only for him to see you scrambling to shove the useless toy under your pillow and your not helpful little night fit that hardened his cock in an instant.

The lacy, flower patterned camisole top did absolutely nothing to hide those peaks that were straining the fabric, your exposed collarbones and neck sparking something utterly primal in his mind.

You clenched your thighs together, hoping that he would just drop it and leave.

But of course, he didn’t.

“So…” He paused for a moment, and then, in a voice laced with wicked amusement, “How’s that working out for you?”

Your breath hitched, heat crawling up your neck as you pressed your thighs together even tighter.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, but the way your voice wavered completely sold you out. Hyunjin scoffed, stepping further into your room, completely unfazed by your flustered state.

He twirled the chocolate wrapper between his fingers, holding it up like evidence. “Really?”

He tilted his head, eyes dragging over your body, taking in the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, how your hands clenched into the sheets like you were fighting against your own urges.

Yeah, you were struggling.

He leaned down, so close you could count every lash of his beautiful eyes and feel his breath hover over your flushed face.

The scent of his skin, clean, fresh out of the shower, mixed with something undeniably him, invaded your senses, making your head spin.

You swallowed hard, refusing to look at him. But then, he reached up and traced a finger along your jaw, tilting your face toward him.

His voice dropped, smooth like silk. “Tell me what you need.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I don’t need—”

“Liar.” His breath ghosted over your lips. You whimpered. Goddamn him.

"All you have to do is ask. If not, I'll just let you be and you can stay till it wears off." He said simply, shrugging while playing a devilish smirk on his lips.

You looked at him with glassy eyes, clogged throat and aching need throbbing between your legs that you seemed to intensify with every passing second.

Sensing your hesitation, Hyunjin got up before your hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked down at the contact then at your face which was now flushed hot, slight goosebumps pebbling your skin.

It's not that you didn't want him. God how couldn't you not want him?

It was a secret you'd take to your grave but the amount of times you've found yourself getting jealous of the girls who spent nights with him was countless.

You often wondered how—what—it would be like to feel him. All of him.

His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair off your face as he leaned down again. "Tell me what you want Y/N." he murmured, voice dangerously low.

"T—touch me Hyunjin."

His restraint snapped.

Before another breath could make it past your lungs, his mouth was on yours, your back against the headboard as his hands pressed on either side of your head.

His knees straddled you as you pushed forward, giving him plenty of access to claim you right there with the press of his lips alone, letting him slip his tongue through yours, kissing you hard, fast and desperate.

Hyunjin's hand wrapped around the edge of the blanket that was covering you beneath the waist, he yanked it away and no amount of restraint prepared him to see you completely bare underneath it.

"No panties..." he half threw the blanket, it dropped on the floor. "You're gorgeous when you're needy."

Hyunjin exhaled against your lips, his buzzed hair brushing against your cheek. His touch was all-consuming, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your breath broke when his slender fingers slid between your legs. He teased them along your entrance, collecting the wetness before sliding up to your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You arched into him, a whimper slipping past your lips. “Look at you. You're soaked.” he murmured, eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive.

"Please...I..." you let out a breathy moan.

He dipped his head down following your plea, his breath ghosting over you. “I bet you taste as sweet as that chocolate.”

And then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, dragging through your folds in one slow, deliberate motion.

A strangled moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around his head, but Hyunjin only groaned in response, gripping your legs and pinning them against your chest.

And then you were taken to the heavens with his tongue alone.

He worked so expertly, licking and flicking, sucking and worshipping your cunt like it was the end of the world.

His teeth grazed your tender, erect clit and you bucked up, pushing your needy pussy up his face coating him in your arousal.

Every new spot he hit sent you spiralling, the noisy slurps mixing with your loud whimpers echoing off the walls like a sinful symphony.

Your hands found the way to his hair, wanting him closer, harder, faster until you couldn't breathe, until you couldn't think, just letting him give you everything he could do with his mouth.

It was hot, devastating, mind blowing, the way he ate you out like no tomorrow, the coil growing tighter and faster with each lick.

Hyunjin pulled back with a wet sound, his chin glistening. "You taste so fucking good, baby."

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding inside you with ease, stretching you open as he scissored them, curling just right against your sweet spot while his lips wrapped around your clit.

"Fuck—Hyunjin—" Your hips bucked against his hand, chasing that friction, that high.

His long digits moved in and out, the squelching sounds spasming out of your cunt as he continued speeding up.

"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, adding a third finger. "You like being stuffed full, huh?"

You couldn't answer, couldn't form a thought. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your stomach tightening, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

"You're close, aren't you?" Hyunjin mused, pressing a kiss to your thigh as his fingers moved faster. "Go on, make a mess on my hand."

With a broken moan, your body tensed, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, a pool of liquid gushed out as he kept moving, working and drowning through your ecstasy until you were trembling.

He groaned, pulling his fingers out, watching as your arousal coated them. He brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum.

You watched him, catching your breath, not even halfway through before you got up and straddled him, your wet cunt landing on top of his now visible, hard bulge.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding against him as your hot breath fanned over his skin.

"I, I can't—fuck me— please."

His devilish grin grew wider. "You sure you won't regret it later baby?" He cooed but your brain was too fogged with lust, the chocolate you consumed now working on full power.

You grinded his clothed cock, letting your juices stain his sweats and his head fell back at the feeling.

Within a heartbeat, your camisole was lost and his sweatpants were gone, his arm scooped around your waist, guiding your body to meet his cock that was jutting up.

You sank in one smooth push of his hips, but had to force your walls to adjust to the sheer size of him, the tip of his long, veiny cock touching the sensitive spot in you that made you throw your head back, digging your nails into his shoulders.

You rocked your hips back and forth, meeting his upward thrusts as his lips connected with your bouncing breast, the other getting playing and kneaded under his big hand.

You rode him, chasing another orgasm, whimpering and moaning while he sucked on your breast, letting the sensitive bud end up swollen, slick and sore.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick like the slut you are," he gasped, releasing the peak with a pop!, holding your waist tight enough to leave marks that would last for days.

He filled you in the most delicious way ever, your gummy walls clamping him, driving every single logical sense out of his brain.

His thumb pressed on your chin as he cupped your face, touching his lips with yours, kissing you roughly but equally smoothly as you kept rolling your hips on top of him.

"Ha—oh god, Hyun—oh fu...I love your cock."

Your words were filthy, mind so clouded with lust that it sounded coherent to your ears.

Hyunjin's hand that was on your waist held you and pushed you on to your back, before pulling out and flipping you on your stomach, tangling your hair in one tight fist before he slammed into you in one punishing thrust.

He pulled your hair back, his other hand going down to cup your breast, pinching the erect peak. The pleasure of it all overlapped with pain as he continued to thrust into you with hard strokes again and again, your hands fisting the sheets below.

"You're such a fucking slut. With a pussy so tight." he slammed hard right as a stinging slap! landed on your ass that made you cry out loud. "I should have fucked you way earlier than this."

Did he perhaps eat the other piece of chocolate? Maybe he did—

Everything around ceased to exist in that moment, only the rhythmic sound of flesh against flesh, headboard banging against the wall and the loudest moans that were for sure to be heard by your neighbours filling the sex fogged air.

It was like that sweet—oh so you thought, 'didn't check the wrapper', harmless—chocolate dug through your senses bringing out carnal urges you never knew existed.

It wasn't not enough and too much to bear all at once.

Your face fell in the pillows as you let out a muffled scream when he hit that spot that shattered you into shards, making you flood around him.

He was close to snapping too, but he prided himself so much that he wasn't going to come until he's had you so utterly spent till you can't take it anymore.

His grip on your hair loosened, pulling back just till the velvet tip remained in your entrance. Just as you thought he was about to pull out entirely, his hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning them to your back as he slammed back into you once more.

"Don't think you're done yet you cockdrunk slut. I'm not stopping till I decide you've had enough. Got it?" He growled and you nodded senselessly against the pillows, sweat coating your bodies as he regained his pace.

You gasped up, needing air, breathing erratically as he pounded into you harder and harder—slam, slam, slam—your ass meeting with stinging slap!, slap!, slap!, skin now sore and red.

Tears ran down your cheeks relentlessly as he held your hands behind your back, continuing to fucking you from the behind.

You were never that into hardcore, rough sex but right now under the arms and getting wrecked by your 'how could he be single?' roommate and the effect of the aphrodisiac running through your veins, you wanted nothing but for him to just destroy you.

You didn't need to cry it out loud. Your aching, quivering body, greedy pussy basically engulfing his thick rod gave it away to him.

That small piece of candy was too powerful for its size. (Or maybe it's been quite while since you were fucked so good).

Right as you were about to come for the third time, he let go of your wrists, pulling out and turning you over, resting your legs on his shoulders and sank into you again.

He was so deep in, you could have sworn you felt him up your throat. You rasped his name, but he was so lost in the way your pussy swallowed his huge length that he lost all the sense in his brain.

He was consumed by the urge to just wreck your cunt and rearrange your guts.

"F—canf—Hyun, ah! More—!"

You were blabbering nonsense, your needy self just begging him to give you more and more.

"You're taking me so well," he praised, his grip tightening as he snapped his hips faster and deeper.

You clenched around him that made him hiss and come, making him spill his release in you before he could even process the thought of pulling out.

You felt his warm seed gather up inside you, painting you white, the continuous twitching of his cock making him pause and gently ease himself out, a long sticky string of his cum attaching from his tip on to your hole.

He watched as his release dripped from your spent core, his jaw clenching. "Fuck. Look at that."

You were completely wrecked—limbs heavy and body shaking. Hyunjin pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Hope you’re ready for round two, baby."

All that was round one?!

Because from the way his cock was already hardening again, you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

Your eyes widened slightly, breath hitching as Hyunjin smirked down at you. He traced circles over your stomach before dipping lower, spreading your thighs wider.

His fingers brushed over your swollen clit, making you jolt, a whimper escaping your lips. "Hyunjin—" you gasped.

He hushed you with a kiss, deep and lazy, his tongue gliding against yours. "You can take one more for me, can’t you?" He whispered against your mouth.

Your body screamed in protest and anticipation at the same time. The aphrodisiac hadn’t fully worn off yet, leaving you sweaty, hot and needy despite your exhaustion.

You moaned breathlessly as Hyunjin guided himself back to your entrance, rubbing the tip against your hypersensitive core, teasing you.

"Please," you whispered, surprising even yourself with how desperate you sounded. He groaned, positioning himself at your channel again. "Good girl."

And then he pushed in.

The stretch was more intense this time, your walls still tight and sensitive from the last round. He took his time, slow and deep, groaning as he bottomed out inside you.

He rolled his hips gentler, dragging against your puffy walls, making you shudder beneath him. A salacious white ring formed around the base of his shaft, his huge hand sprawled over your tummy, massaging your skin, he could feel the bulge of his cock over your stomach.

The pleasure was overwhelming, crashing in ways beyond euphoria.

Your legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his ass forcing him in deeper until you felt the fat cockhead brush against your cervix. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and the moan you let out was borderline pornographic.

"Gonna make you come again," he gasped, as he continued his pace. "Will you come for me again sweetheart?"

His thrusts quickened, his grip tightening on your hips as he lost himself in you. Your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto as the pleasure built again just through his words.

"Come baby," he whispered, his hand pressing down harder on your stomach and then circled your clit, sending you spiraling into another release.

You screamed his name, your entire body arching as the climax ripped through you, leaving you trembling and reeling beneath him. His pace faltered, hips snapping erratically before he spilled inside you, filling and stuffing his load in you for the second time that night.

You gripped his muscled back as he fell on top of you, warm and comforting, both of you panting, drenched in sweat, breaths ragged and heavy.

Then, after a second of stretched silence, Hyunjin slowly lifted himself, gazing down at you. "You okay?" he murmured, brushing damp hair away from your face.

You nodded weakly, body still buzzing. Hyunjin pressed a kiss to your forehead before slipping out of you with a groan. He watched as his release seeped out from your drilled hole, and his jaw clenched.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. "I should clean you up."

You expected him to grab a towel and wipe you, but instead, he lowered himself between your legs again.

Before you could form his name, his tongue was on you, lapping up his own release, licking you clean with slow, precise strokes.

Your body jerked in overstimulation, but Hyunjin held you down, his grip firm as he cleaned every drop, humming in satisfaction.

Only when he was done did he finally pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste even sweeter mixed with me," he mused, grinning as he climbed back up.

He watched you as he let you catch a breath after the intense fucking, you could feel the frantic blood rush, your core pulsing and a drip of slick running down out of your pussy.

Hyunjin's hand cupped your cheek softly before he asked lowly.

"Are you on the pill?"

Even if he used condoms with other girls he has fucked with, for some reason he always asked them that question. But the mere idea of protection didn't cross either of your minds tonight.

You gave a jerky shake of your head. "I...I stopped..."

He watched you, chest rising and falling, in now even breaths, eyes softening.

"Okay, don't worry. Sleep now. Let's talk in the morning."

He ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, pulling the blanket over your body, turning on the AC, reaching down to brush his lips on your closing eyelids, exhaling sharply as he walked out of your room.

His body was still buzzing from everything that had happened, but his mind was clouded with thoughts.

Without letting another creep up his head, he walked to the bathroom, turning on the water, taking the coldest shower, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the cold tiles.

***

The soft glow of the morning light seeped through the curtains, as you slowly stirred awake.

A dull ache pulsed between your legs, spreading through your thighs, and it took you a moment to register why.

Then it hit you.

The remnants of last night came back in flashes—the aphrodisiac chocolates, the way your body burned with unbearable heat, and… Hyunjin.

Your breath caught as the memories flooded back. The way he touched you. The way he took you. His dirty words and sweet praises.

You groaned, sitting up, feeling the slight stickiness between your legs. You looked down at your body, skin around your hips peppered with his fingerprint bruises, swollen nipples with a faint hickey on your breast.

Heat crept up your face at the realization. You slept with your roommate.

God...What happens now?

Before you could dwell on it too long, the door creaked open.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as Hyunjin stepped in. He was wearing a loose white tank top and black sweats, his hair tied in a mini ponytail. In his hands, he carried a tray.

Your heart stuttered at the sight.

You flushed as you felt him gaze at you, you pulled the sheets over your chest, suddenly feeling shy as if he hadn't already seen everything by now.

"Morning," he greeted casually, setting the tray on your nightstand. His gaze flickered to you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"How do you feel?"

You swallowed hard, glancing quickly at the tray before meeting his eyes. "Sore."

His lips quirked slightly. "Yeah... not surprised."

Heat rushed up your spine.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh before he gestured to the tray.

“I made you breakfast. Figured you’d need the energy after last night.”

You glanced at the tray—toast, berries, coffee… and a small blister pack. Your stomach clenched at the sight of the morning-after pill.

Your fingers tightened around the blanket as you looked back up at him. "You think I should take it?" you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. "It's your choice. But I wanted you to have the option. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here.”

Something in his tone made your chest tighten. You couldn’t quite place it. Was it regret? Reassurance? Maybe a mix of both.

You hesitated but then took the pack, popping the pill into your mouth, washing it down with water before setting the glass aside and reaching for the coffee.

Silence stretched between you two.

Then, Hyunjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… are we gonna talk about this?”

You set the mug down on your nightstand, glancing up at him. “Do we need to?”

His jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Yeah. We do.”

You swallowed. “Hyunjin, it was just the chocolate. That’s why it happened.”

His brows twitched slightly, and for a split second, you thought you saw something like disappointment flash across his face. But it was gone before you could process it.

“Right,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “Just the chocolate.” You weren’t sure why his reaction bothered you.

He let out a half frustration sigh, a faint tsk leaving his lips as he got up to walk towards the door.

You yanked away the blanket, ignoring the light sting in your crotch before he left completely, wrapping your arms around his middle making him freeze.

You pressed the side of your head against his back, heart pounding behind your ribcage.

"Tell me you don't feel the same and we can let this go like it never happened."

Hyunjin looked down at your arms around his body then glanced over his shoulder to look at you. His jaw clenched.

His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to hold you back. Silence stretched between you both, thick with something unsaid.

Finally, he exhaled, turning to you fully. His voice was low when he spoke, almost cautious.

“Do you really want me to say that?” he asked, voice lower than before.

Your throat felt tight.

Yes. No. You didn’t know.

Your fingers twitched against his shirt, gripping the fabric. “Just say it, Hyunjin.” His fingers sunk into your hair before he exhaled, the weight of his breath brushing against your forehead.

“I can’t,” he admitted.

Your chest constricted, the world around you growing small, only his piercing gaze and the cold air making you shiver.

He unclasped your hold, turning to your clothes rack and grabbed your robe, covering you up.

Why does he do this? Why is he doing this?

"Why didn't you tell me what you felt?" He asked cupping your face, thumb grazing your cheek. His eyes searched for yours, brows furrowing slightly as if he was trying to piece a puzzle he should have solved long ago.

Your arms wrapped around yourself, fingers gripping the fabric of your robe. "Because it never mattered." you mumbled.

Hyunjin's jaw ticked. "That's not an answer."

"Every time I thought about saying something, about asking if we were more than just roommates, I'd hear you come home late after a date," you admitted, your voice shaking. "And then not long after, I'd hear...them..."

Hyunjin's lips pressed into a thin line. You didn't need to elaborate more. He knew exactly what you meant.

The walls of this apartment weren't thick enough to drown out the sounds of the women he brought over. The laughter, the muffled words, the occasional soft moans that cut through the night like a blade straight to your heart.

So you never said anything. Because it was obvious to you. Hyunjin would never have feelings for you.

While he was out dating, bringing girls home, moving on with his life, you had been stuck. Stuck wanting something you knew you could never have.

Hyunjin inhaled deeply, his fingers twitching against your cheek before he finally asked, "Does it still bother you?"

You hesitated. He waited.

You could simply lie. Say that it was because of the chocolate, that last night was a mistake and go back to how things were before. But your heart, your dumb heart screamed at you to be honest.

So you nodded gently, biting your lip.

He sucked in a sharp, low breath, his hand dropping from your face as he took a step back, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip, processing your words.

"I see," he murmured.

The air between you felt thick. Too thick and heavy.

“I was trying to forget you.”

His words hit you like a slap. You blinked. “What?”

Hyunjin let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I wanted them?” He glanced at you, eyes dark. “I brought them home because I needed a distraction. Because every time I looked at you, I knew I couldn’t have you.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?” you whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I caught feelings first,” he admitted.

“A long time ago. But I thought you only saw me as a roommate, as a friend. And if I told you, if I ruined everything, then what? If you didn’t feel the same, what would happen?”

He exhaled sharply. “So I tried to forget. I went on dates, I let them stay the night. But it never worked.”

Your breath was shaky now.

"Hyun," you started but he let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. Before you could blink, his mouth crashed on yours, hungry and desperate, as if he was scared you're going to vanish away if he lets go.

You melted into his mouth, letting out what was like a quiet sigh of relief, until you pulled away, the gentle "ch" sound escaping your departing lips, trembling against his hold.

"Can I be yours?" He asked, the question slipping past him as if he had been holding it in forever. Your eyes widened, his words echoing in your heart before it reached your head.

"You..." your words clogged in your throat.

He smiled the softest smile you've ever seen radiate off him. "Yeah," he nodded. "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Of all the things you expected to happen after last night, this was never one of them.

Could he?

Could he be yours?

His gaze softened when you stayed silent, thinking of your answer. "I'm not asking because of what we did yesterday or because I want you to forget what I did before." He murmured, his voice filled with honesty.

"I'm asking because I want you," he continued, his fingers grazing your jaw, grounding you in the weight of his words.

"Not just for a night. Not just because of that chocolate. I want you because...it's always been you."

Your eyes welled, the sincerity in his voice made your heart ache.

The answer had always been there, buried beneath the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the unspoken jealousy. Beneath every time your heart clenched when you saw him with someone else.

And now you were standing here, with Hyunjin telling you he had been feeling just as much as you had.

You swallowed hard, then nodded smiling. “I want you too.”

Relief flooded his face, followed by something brighter and softer. He let out a breathy laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yeah? You do?” he repeated, almost teasing.

You huffed, the corners of your lips curling. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Hyunjin didn’t need to hear it twice.

His hands cupped your face, his eyes glimmering with something new that made your chest bloom with warmth.

Then, his lips found yours again.

This time, the kiss wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed or fleeting. It was slow, sweet, as if he was memorizing you, promising something without words.

You sighed into him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer and closer, until there was no space left between you.

Hyunjin’s thumb brushed over your lips. “I guess we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

You smiled, tilting your chin up. “I guess we do.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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[rokkster]

this has crossed my dash a couple times. and I think the most annoying thing about people who say 'I didn't consent to seeing that' is... they're just wrong.

You did consent to it, after a fashion.

How?

By leaving the house.

By leaving your abode, you are stating that you are partaking in society, and by partaking in society you are going to see things you don't like.

Some times, some very rare times, these might also be things that society frowns upon. Society in this case is generalised in an all people kind of sense. You might see a robbery or a murder or some person's Bits as they open their trench coat. And that's fucked up and you should be outraged.

Getting all 'I didn't consent to see that' over two people of the same perceived gender holding hands, or someone wearing a lewd t-shirt, or someone using pronouns, or wearing leather, or acting like a puppy is severely self-coddling and narrow-minded. But also: you don't have to keep looking. You consented to seeing things that might be upsetting by leaving the house, but also you can keep moving. Consent can be repealed. There's a huge difference between 'I didn't consent to seeing that' (negative, accusatory, almost certainly bigoted in some way, probably intrusive) and 'I don't want to see that so I'm going to extract myself from this situation'.

I lost my way a little, possibly, but essentially I think it boils down to the fact that your 'right to comfort' shouldn't outweigh someone else's right to exist. You didn't consent to seeing something? Look away then. You're an adult, right?

like, okay, consent does literally just mean agree. which is what enables this little rhetorical trick. because there's all this cultural emphasis on sexual consent, which is just expressed as consent, a lot of phrases whose intended meanings are "rape is bad" can be taken literally to mean "i should get to agree to everything that happens in my vicinity."

[itsraceweekbitches]

JUST HOW FAKE ARE WE?

summary: Your so-far-successful fake relationship with Max takes a different turn in Monaco. But how far will things go eventually? ✤ pairing: Max Verstappen x reader ✤ wc: 3.2k ✤ tags: fem!reader, marriage talks, fake relationship, teenage crush, excited-puppy-in-love!Max ✤ note I'm a goddamn idiot who deleted it, so here's the repost.

[march 2025 – australian grand prix]

The media is having a field day with your suddenly revealed relationship with Max, who seems to enjoy this show a little too much. I’m bored, it’s fun, and it’s absolutely no big deal, he said.

And he clearly means it, because he doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re walking down the paddock together for the first time on Saturday, and he always makes sure he has a hand on your body, or places a kiss on your cheek whenever there are cameras around.

The inevitable happens shortly before qualifying, when the first article about the two of you is published on a well-known gossip site. And then comes another. And another. Followed by social media posts and video edits by fans. The fans are obsessed with this turn of events.

Some immediately catch on, stating that there is no way this relationship is real, that it’s nothing more but a decoy. They’re right, of course, but lucky for you, there are many more fans who believe the lie. Some even uncovered a few photos from the boys’ karting days, ones where you and Max can be seen together talking, laughing, and even hugging.

Charles has been apologizing non-stop, telling you he feels guilty since the press got the conversation from his account, and he even believes he shouldn’t have joked about it at all.

Now Max is attending an emergency meeting to discuss how to handle the situation, while you’re hiding in his driver room, talking to Charles who has already returned from his own emergency meeting.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Charles tells you during your video call, although you can see the doubt in his green eyes.

With a groan, you lean back on the bed, but you can’t calm down, you can’t think clearly, not when your brain is in overdrive by the fact the whole room—and especially the pillow—smells like Max. You’re not used to being surrounded by this scent, and it feels like you’re invading his personal space.

And the decorations keep reminding you that you’re not at Ferrari anymore, that this is uncharted territory, something you know nothing about yet. Sure, you will have to get familiar with things here, but you are still feeling out of place.

“I know it’s not the end of the world,” you finally speak up, “but now we dragged Max into this, and—”

“Hey, no, no, no, he volunteered. We didn’t hold him at gunpoint.”

You roll your eyes, then give him a look that immediately silences him, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he forces himself not to go on. You’ve known Charles literally your whole life, you know each other like you weren’t just best friends, but siblings who are stuck together.

“I’m just worried he’ll get into trouble because of me. You should have seen the faces when I showed up in Red Bull territory this morning,” you note with a grimace.

The most shocking moment was running into Christian, who watched you with narrowed eyes, as if he was thinking about what ulterior motive you had. If he only knew the truth…

On the other side of the line, Charles lets out a heartfelt laugh. “You as a corporate spy… Nah, you would suck at that,” he points out, then takes a deep breath. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Here you go again, he’s apologizing once more, and probably not for the last time. You wish you could go over to him and give him a big hug, then play video games until you both fall asleep. Like in the good old days.

After shaking your head, you sit up and lean your back against the wall behind you. “Charles, it’s not your fault. And I could never be mad at you, you know that.”

You want to go on, just to make sure he understands that there’s no reason to blame himself, but you’re interrupted all of a sudden.

“Honey, I’m home,” you hear Max’s familiar, cheerful voice from the door when he enters the room. “Oh, I didn’t know you were talking to someone,” he says when he comes to a halt in the middle of the room.

You flash a smile at him and shake your head. “It’s just Charles.”

“Just Charles?” the Monegasque asks with a roll of his eyes.

Before you know it, Max kneels on the edge of the bed, and leans down to press kisses all over your face, a move that brings a stupid giggle out of you. “She’ll call you back, now she’s all mine,” Max announces when he looks at the camera for a second.

It’s hard to miss the expression on your best friend’s face, the way his nose scrunches and he acts like he was about to throw up. “Disgusting,” he notes.

Next to you, Max doesn’t seem bothered by that, if anything, it just makes him more smug than he usually is in your company. “Screw you. I can shower my girlfriend with kisses anytime I want.”

“Since when?”

You let out a tired sigh as you push the man on your side away before he can give you another kiss on the cheek. “He’s been like that all day, he thinks he’s funny,” you tell Charles with a shake of your head.

“I’m hilarious,” Max corrects you as he lies down on the small space on your side. “And since we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s only natural to act like this, no?”

“Only in public.”

“If you touch her in an inappropriate way, I’ll push you off the track tomorrow,” Charles warns him.

Instead of being scared, Max only lets out a carefree laugh. “You’ll have to get close to me first.”

When you turn back to the phone, you can see that little shit kind of grin on your friend’s face. “Your car sucks this year,” he notes happily. “Anyway, I have to go. Talk to you later.”

You wave him goodbye, then end the call with a sigh.

“So does yours,” Max mutters under his breath, even though Charles isn’t there anymore.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, then blow it out slowly to calm yourself. Soon this will pass, soon you’ll be free again. Until then, you’re stuck here with the Dutchman, who happens to act like the perfect boyfriend.

When you look over at Max, you notice that he’s staring right back, as if he’s been watching you all this time. But what if he has truly been watching you? There’s something in those blue eyes you can’t quite place yet. It’s something you’ve never seen before, an emotion that’s completely unfamiliar, and maybe even a little unsettling.

Before you could say anything, though, he grins at you then rolls off the bed, heading to the mini fridge in the corner to get a Red Bull out for himself. He asks you if you'd like one, but your heart is already racing, an energy drink is the last thing you need.

Just two or three more races. The storm will end, and you can all go back to your everyday lives.

[may 2025 – monaco grand prix]

Over two months later you’re still pretending.

And now it’s time for the most important race of the season: the Monaco Grand Prix. Charles’s home race. The one you want to watch from the Ferrari garage along with his family you’re so close to.

But first, it’s time for dinner with Charles, his mom, and Alex, to which Pascale invited Max too. If Charles brings his girlfriend, you should bring your boyfriend too, she said. And who are you to say no to your second mother?

Later in the afternoon you’re trying on dresses in your family’s penthouse, happy that they are away with their friends until Saturday since Max decided to jump in and pick you up. He arrived early–like, two hours early—so now he’s the one rating your outfits.

“The color is nice, it suits you, but the shape is terrible,” he comments as he holds up the makeshift rating card, a smaller whiteboard he writes his points on.

Six points. Okay, this goes back to the walk-in closet, but you only leave after sticking out your tongue at him, because you love this dress so much that hearing it doesn’t look good on you physically hurts.

Three more outfits later he lets out a groan and jumps up after tossing the whiteboard to the other end of the couch. “I have an idea,” he begins as he follows you to the bedroom for whatever reason.

“I’m not gonna wear jeans with a Red Bull Racing shirt, forget it,” you point out without looking back at him.

“What? No, I’d rather you wear that when you’re with Ferrari this weekend.”

You spin on your heels to look at him, and sure enough, there’s that cheeky, boyish grin you were expecting. But how does he know about your plan to spend the weekend on Charles’s side of the paddock? You never mentioned that.

To your surprise, he knows perfectly well what’s going on inside your head. “What? You thought I wouldn’t know that this weekend is special? I discussed this with Charles a while ago, everything’s ready for you,” he tells you casually.

“Thank you. So, what do you have in mind, then?” you wonder as you walk closer to him.

Max lets out a thoughtful hum as his eyes sweep over your body, as if he was making this up on the spot. “Well, I would suggest jeans and a Simply lovely shirt, but no, I have a better idea. I have a surprise for you in my backpack, give me a sec.”

You watch him rush out of the room with a frown on your face, wondering what the hell is happening here. Max being nice and thoughtful is nothing new, but today it just feels different, like something has shifted in your fake relationship.

To be honest, you may have been thinking about him more than you probably should, even when he’s not around. You find yourself opening the messaging app you usually use, typing some words before changing your mind and deleting them. Or other times your finger hovers over the screen as you wonder if you should call him or not.

You’re kind of afraid of whatever that means. Is this more than just pretending?

At this point, you can’t help but wonder if it’s time to put an end to this. By now the press moved on, focusing on other drivers’ relationships instead of yours. It’s yesterday’s news, and everybody knows Charles and Alex are back together, and that they’re happier than ever. So what’s the point of this? Nothing.

Yet…

“Before you ask, I cheated and asked Charles to somehow get me what size you wear. Apparently Alex straight-up asked you, so,” he begins with a sheepish smile as he holds up a dress.

It’s a beautiful dark blue cocktail dress, which somehow didn’t have any wrinkles on it despite spending God knows how much time in that backpack. You don’t even know what to say, mostly because this gesture only proves what you’ve been suspecting about this certain shift you’ve noticed.

“You don’t like it.”

Your eyes move from the dress to your fake boyfriend, and you don’t hesitate to shake your head. “No, it’s beautiful. I just… Never mind. Thank you.”

Max lets out a sigh as he places the dress on the back of a chair. “Listen, I can see something’s bothering you. What is it?”

What are you supposed to say to this? That your brain is wandering to places you don’t want to explore?

“I’ll try on the dress, so could you wait outside?”

Nodding, Max gives you one last look, then leaves the room without a word. That’s the last time you speak until you meet the others, and even then, you keep an unusual distance. For him, it’s about being cautious. For you, it’s about making sure you make a fool out of yourself.

Charles, of course, notices the change in the atmosphere right away, and he even pulls you aside to start questioning you. But, even though he has known you since you were born, meaning he could probably give you some advice, you decide to lie and act like it’s nothing. 

But it’s not nothing. 

Your eyes keep finding Max throughout the evening, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head. Does he have the same thoughts? Or is he desperately waiting to be free of you? It’s hard to tell. 

Just as you planned, you spend the weekend with Charles, arriving at the paddock with his family, staying in Ferrari territory just to be safe. Safe from Max. Safe from your thoughts. Safe from the media. 

But there’s an itch in the back of your brain, one you can’t scratch. And the itch even has a voice, repeating his name over, and over, and over again. It’s getting louder with each passing second, with each moment you see him on the screens on the wall, when your phone buzzes to notify you of a new message from him. 

Alex gives you worried looks every now and then, but it takes her a while to open up and tell you what it’s about. And when she finally tells you what’s going on, you feel like the whole world has turned against you. First, everyone was freaking out because they thought you and Charles were getting married. Then it was you and Max. Now? Now the fans are mad because you chose your best friend over your boyfriend. 

You close your eyes for a moment, but then you take a deep breath and leave the garage, trying to move in a way that doesn’t scream how terrible and pathetic you feel right now. Some fans are screaming bloody murder because Max is starting the race from P10 after a mechanical issue in Q3, which only happened because his lucky charm–you–wasn’t there with him on Saturday. 

To be honest, you haven’t talked since the dinner. You’ve been avoiding him, ignoring him, and you hate yourself for not answering him. 

“Wait,” you hear a familiar voice calling after you. 

Fuck. 

Max ran all the way here, ready to jump into the car based on the suit he already wears, but despite this, here he is, looking for you. There are people already turning in your direction, you can’t just leave him there, so you come to a halt and force a smile on your face. 

“Hey, I–”

Before you could say anything, he gently but firmly puts a hand around your neck to pull you into a kiss. It’s rushed, passionate, and messy, yet it feels perfect. This is the first time the two of you kissed, until now you carefully avoided that situation, but God, what did you miss?

It’s only when he lets go for a moment that you notice the cameras around you, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact, it just draws a smug smirk on his face. “Well, if you want to jump ship, Red Bull’s always waiting for you. I love you,” he adds quietly. 

This short-circuits your brain. This didn’t sound fake, you have a feeling he meant it. But if he meant it, then… Okay, you need to stop, you can’t overthink, you can’t let him put ideas in your head. 

You want to say something, anything, really, but nothing comes to your mind. 

He flashes a big smile at you before pressing a rushed kiss on your cheek. “Come over tonight. The cats miss you.” And with that, he waves goodbye and leaves. 

What the hell just happened?

Luckily, you have enough brain capacity left to send him a quick good luck message.

“I was hoping you would jump in, but don’t worry, I’m glad you’re here now” Max says when he opens the door of his apartment. 

Yeah, right. The invitation. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t go there, not now. Not when you had these confusing feelings and thoughts. Did he mean it when he said those words? Did he catch feelings just like you did?

Because you did. You caught feelings in the past two months, and it wouldn’t be fair to deny. Just how long can you play pretend knowing damn well you want more from him? 

Letting out a sigh, you go straight to his living room without saying a word–something that confuses him based on the questioning hum he lets out as you walk past him. Once he catches up, you gulp and prepare to speak up, breaking the awkward silence. This has never been the problem, not once. You could always chat and laugh, but now it feels different. 

“Maybe it’s time to end this fake relationship,” you announce, even though the thought breaks your heart. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeats stubbornly as he sits on the couch and picks up his youngest furry kid. “Aren’t we having fun? Why can’t this become something real? Come on, you enjoyed that kiss this afternoon, didn’t you?” 

Oh, that confident smile of his is driving you crazy. You just want to slap him. 

You want to slap that handsome face. 

DAMN IT! FOCUS!

“Max, people have moved on, there’s no reason to keep going,” you try, although your voice lacks conviction. 

And he knows. He always knows if there’s something you’re not telling him. This time he starts with a doubtful look, which is followed by a wide, Cheshire Cat grin. The thing is, Max always gets what he wants, and this time you have a feeling you’re what he wants.

Before you know it, he puts the cat to the side–who gives him a mean look in return–and reaches out to take your hands to pull you into his lap. Your brain melts when you feel his hands on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. Why does it feel so good? You don’t want to like it as much as you do. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to pry his hands off yourself to break the spell, but his grip only tightens as he launches himself forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Another mind blowing kiss that knocks every coherent thought out of your brain. 

The fact you like it is pathetic.

But still oh so good.

Maybe giving him a chance is what you should do now. Maybe he’s right, maybe you would be good together. So, without thinking more, you let yourself get lost in the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. But he suddenly leans back to build a little distance.

“I have an idea,” he begins with a smile, his lips red and swollen. “I have napkins in the kitchen, let’s write a contract. Seems to work for you.”

“God, you’re so silly,” you tell him with a grin, then kiss him again.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝒿𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Oh boy… my two most possessive men in the whole damn game? Jealous!Sol & Jealous!Geo x Reader? Buckle up because this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a full-on battlefield.

However, can't blame you for just messing around, testing the waters, seeing who got more jealous… and playing with fire gets you burned. You’re stuck in the middle, questioning every life choice that led you here.  

What could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything.)

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: From Anonymous, if you don't mind writing it, but jealous geo and sol, please??😭 Like they both like readers and are just silently jealous of one another? I am in desperate need of more fics of them interacting 🤧

Honestly, apologies in advance—I don’t sugarcoat things. A lot of my writing is rooted in realism and what I’m comfortable exploring. Soooo, if you were hoping for a lighthearted take… no chance.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Jelly.

By definition, jelly is something sweet. A glossy, semisolid spread made from fruit juice and sugar, boiled to a thick consistency. Some people like sweets. Some don’t. But jelly can also mean jealousy. That gnawing feeling of wanting something—someone—that belongs to someone else.

And in this case? That something was you.

Not a thing, not an object, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were the prize in some unspoken battle. A war waged in subtle glances, clenched fists, and an underlying tension so thick it could choke the air out of a room.

And the worst part? You never asked for this.

Okay, maybe you did lie—just a little. But you sure as hell didn’t expect the weight of two unreadable stares pinning you down like prey, like you were something to be fought over.

Not the way Sol’s fiery red-orange eyes would zero in whenever some random guy so much as breathed in your direction, his expression eerily blank, but his fingers twitching like he was already mapping out a murder scene in his head.

And definitely not the way Geo, with his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck aquamarine gaze, would suddenly become conveniently absent the moment on the same random guy—only for poor bastard to show up the next day with a busted nose and now suddenly doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Okay, maybe you like this…

Because—let’s be real—having two tall, hot men practically fighting for your attention? Yeah… yeah, that was kinda hot. And a little pathetic. But were you about to stop them? Absolutely not.

So far, Sol and Geo hadn’t actually thrown hands at each other yet, probably because they still wanted to stay on your good side. But whenever you were with one of them, the other just happened to be around, watching, lingering, acting like your personal shadow.

Meanwhile, some poor random guys so much as breathes in your direction, and suddenly, it’s a whole different story.

Like If there was one thing you could count on, it was that Sol and Geo had very different ways of dealing with people who dared to show interest in you.

Sol? Oh, he didn’t just get jealous—he lived in it. Stewed in it. Let it simmer under his skin like a slow-burning fire, always one spark away from an explosion. It didn’t matter how harmless the situation was. Some poor, clueless guy so much as breathed in your direction, and suddenly, the whole atmosphere shifted.

Like earlier, when you were just trying to study in the library.

“Who was that?” Sol asked, voice eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that told you he was already two seconds away from tracking the guy down.

You didn’t even look up from your notes. “Don’t know. Just some guy.” That was, of course, the wrong answer.

Sol leaned in slightly, red-orange eyes narrowing. “He called you pretty.”

You finally looked up, raising a brow. “And? I am pretty.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Just drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze locked onto the exit like he was memorizing the dude’s last known location. You had no doubt that if you gave him a name, he’d find some way to make sure the guy never spoke to you again.

Geo, on the other hand? Possessive, sure. But jealous? Not really. If anything, his reaction was less ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is?’ and more ‘Why the hell are you entertaining this bullshit?’

Like when you went to watch him practice archery after class. You’d barely been there ten minutes before some guy strolled up, all confidence and cologne, asking for your number like Geo wasn’t literally holding a weapon in his hands. You were scared for him.

You were about to respond—probably to reject the guy, but you had been taking your sweet time with it—when a sharp thunk split the air.

The guy flinched, eyes wide as he turned to see an arrow buried into the tree right next to his head.

Geo, standing a few feet away, barely spared him a glance as he reached for another arrow. “Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Must been the wind...”

The guy was gone instantly, practically tripping over himself as he made his escape.

You turned to Geo, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

He finally looked at you, one brow raised. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Yeah. Sure.

At this point you was probably wondering, ‘Oh my, oh my, if Sol and Geo are on good terms with you, do they ever have beef like you said? Or do they just straight-up ignore each other?’

Well… kinda.

It’s less of a mutual rivalry and more of a Sol has serious, undying beef with Geo, while Geo, in true Geo fashion, just casually ignores Sol’s entire existence.

Of course, you’d never hang out with them at the same time. That would be a death wish. You like your life drama-filled but intact, thank you very much. So, you very intentionally avoid situations where they’d have to be in the same room for longer than five seconds.

You keep your time with them separate—Sol on one day, Geo on another. Sol is more of your side friend group situation, hanging out with Hyugo, doing whatever chaotic shit they get into. Meanwhile, Geo? He’s part of your main friend group—the one you’re actually seen with most of the time, which includes Brittany, Jericho, Jess, and Daryl.

However these been some days you’ll hang out with them along, just you and whoever. And because of this, there are definitely moments where you’ve caught Sol and Geo being jealous of each other.

Like the time you mentioned hanging out with Geo over the weekend, and Sol immediately went all dark and broody, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d just told him you were getting married and moving across the country.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he muttered, voice low.

You blinked. “Yeah? And?”

“And I don’t like it.”

Well. At least he was honest.

Geo, on the other hand, had a way of casually throwing shade when he wanted to. Like when you showed up to hang out with the main group after spending time with Sol.

“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Geo remarked, arching a brow. “Figured you were off cutting your wrist with him.” I’m sooo sorry if this offensive to anyone

You snorted awkwardly. “We were just hanging out.”

“Mhm. Sure.” He sipped his drink, giving you the most judgmental side-eye.

At the end of the day, you could ignore their little jealousy fits, but one thing was clear—Sol definitely had beef, and Geo just enjoyed playing unbothered while lowkey stirring the pot.

Then, so let’s talk about territory.

And let’s start with Sol.

Why Sol? Oh, I don’t know—he was fucking obvious.

He wasn’t subtle, and he didn’t care to be. You’d always catch his hand slipping around your shoulders, fingers ghosting over your waist—especially when Geo or your main group of friends were around. He didn’t just exist near you; he occupied your space, like some territorial cat refusing to let anyone else so much as breathe in your direction.

His touch? Not soft. Not casual. Possessive. Like he was making a statement without saying a single damn word.

It didn’t matter where you were—hallways, lunch, walking to class—Sol made sure everyone within a ten-foot radius knew exactly where you stood. And, more importantly, where he stood. Right. Next. To. You.

Then there was Geo.

Geo didn’t need all that. Where Sol was all hands-on, in-your-face, look-at-me-touching-you, Geo was smooth. Subtle. Calculated. Too composed for his own good, always watching, always analyzing.

He didn’t hover. He didn’t grab. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone was enough to send a message. The way he carried himself across campus—untouchable, like the world bent around him. When it came to you, he had his own ways of making sure people knew.

For example: the damn hoodie situation.

You didn’t even ask for his hoodie, but that didn’t stop him from slipping it over your shoulders anyway. Cold? Hoodie. Raining? Hoodie. Forgot your jacket? Guess what? Hoodie. And it wasn’t just about keeping you warm—no, no. This was branding. Because that hoodie was his. And when people saw his hoodie on you, it was like a silent warning: Don’t even try it.

And let’s not pretend like Geo didn’t notice when Sol was all over you.

He’d play it cool, act like he didn’t care, keep his distance. But you knew he saw it. You could feel his eyes, sharp and assessing, calculating like he was taking inventory of every single move Sol made.

Now, if Sol ever really overstepped?

Oh, Geo would make his move.

Not in front of you, though—he was way too clever for that. He didn’t need to start a scene. He didn’t need to flex his dominance in public.

Because by the next morning? You’d hear rumors.

Some random dude who tried to shoot his shot with you mysteriously walking around with a black eye or a swollen nose.

The whispers would be everywhere. “Who the hell messed with him?”

And you’d know.

It was Geo.

Handled quietly. Efficiently. Discreetly.

And if, by chance, you happened to notice the faint bruises on Geo’s knuckles the next day? Well. That was just something you didn’t bring up. Ever.

So, again, after everything, how do you feel about being possessed over by two men?

Like, at the end of the day, you were trapped—trapped between their heated stares, their possessiveness, their absolute refusal to let you exist without them staking their claim.

And you?

Oh, you were loving it, all in honesty.

What? If they were gonna play this game, you might as well play along. Hell, you held all the cards. You were the one pulling the strings, keeping them both on their toes, watching as they silently (and not-so-silently) battled for dominance over you.

Geo wanted to act all calm and cool? Like he was above all of this? Fine. Let him pretend. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him show his hand. A little too much laughter when another guy paid you a compliment. Casually mentioning how Sol was so protective over you. Flashing him that innocent, knowing smile whenever he tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move.

And Sol? Sol was easy.

If he wanted to claim you with his rough touches, his dark glares, the way his arm would tighten around your waist just a little too much whenever another guy so much as looked at you—then you’d let him. But only just enough to keep things interesting.

Because you weren’t about to make this easy for either of them.

You’d walk into the room wearing Geo’s hoodie—just to watch Sol’s jaw clench. You’d let Sol pull you close in front of Geo—just to catch the way his fingers twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. You’d let their possessiveness fuel the game, and oh, was it a fun game to play.

Because at the end of the day?

You were the prize. And you knew it.

And what better way to start than with Geo?

Again, Geo was the kind of guy who never had to try too hard. Everything about him exuded effortless control—his tailored clothes, his rich upbringing, the way his hair was always just right like he walked straight out of some high-end fashion editorial.

Bilingual, top of his class, a sharp mind that dissected everything in the room before anyone even realized they were being watched.

Now, you wouldn’t call him perfect, but he was definitely a step above the average man. And that, in itself, was dangerous. Because Geo wasn’t just good at handling himself. 

He was good at handling you. PFFF, I love this man

And it was funny, really. He liked to act like he didn’t care—like he wasn’t watching your every move, like he wasn’t quietly attuned to your habits. But that was the biggest lie of all. Geo noticed everything.

He knew when you were irritated before you even sighed. Knew you were hungry before you even glanced at the menu. Knew what to say to make you laugh, even when you swore you weren’t in the mood. He was calculated—never too distant, but never too obvious.

You knew exactly how to use Geo’s attentiveness to your advantage. 

He was clever, a little too clever sometimes, but that made him so much more fun to tease. So, when you casually invited him to hang out during one of your long gaps between classes—just the two of you—you made sure Sol was close enough to overhear. You didn't even have to try hard.

Sol always seemed to be where you were. Always.

He had this uncanny ability to be in the right spot at the right time. You'd find him lingering in the background, sometimes in doorways, sometimes leaning against walls like he was just passing by, yet always managing to stay just out of sight, barely making his presence known. The look in his eyes, though? You couldn’t miss it.

You watched as his gaze snapped to you the second you leaned in closer to Geo. His fingers twitched like he was holding back some kind of primal urge to pull you away from Geo. But he stayed still, just watching, quietly simmering with frustration.

When Geo agreed, his voice casual and smooth, "Sure, I got nothing better to do," you could almost feel the storm brewing behind you.

And you loved it.

You chose the place carefully. A small bakery, nestled just off-campus. It was cozy, and intimate, yet open enough that no one could barge in without causing a scene.

You knew Sol wouldn’t come in unless he had a reason—he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was one of those rare moments when you actually wanted some peace, to be able to enjoy your time with Geo without the constant interruption of Sol’s overbearing presence.

Geo sat across from you, his posture impeccable, legs crossed and back straight as if he was molded into the seat. His hands rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping softly, the rhythmic sound of it mingling with the soft hum of campus life around you. Students typed away on their laptops, murmured conversations floated around you, and the occasional professor huddled in the corner grading papers. The place felt like the calm center of a storm—a comfortable space for both of you.

He looked at you, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Why'd you pick here?" he asked, voice low, yet that sharp edge still noticeable beneath his calm facade. He propped his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his fingers tapping idly against his cheek.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know. The only place I can think of.”

Geo’s lips twitched then sighed, "Okay." His tone was amused, but there was an undeniable hint of intrigue there.

You both sat there for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then, as if by instinct, Geo stood, his movements graceful and effortless. "You want anything?" he asked, already moving toward the counter before you could even respond.

Minutes later, he returned, sliding your usual drink toward you—no questions asked. It was like he had memorized your preferences by heart. He placed a small plate beside it too, something extra—probably dessert, because he knew you liked sweets, and his attention to detail was uncanny.

You reached for it, your fingers brushing his in the process. It wasn’t intentional, but that fleeting touch sent a ripple through you. For a moment, neither of you pulled away. 

Geo’s gaze flickered to your hand again, sharp and perceptive. "Your hand," he murmured softly, his voice taking on that subtle edge of concern. His eyes dropped to the small scrape, and for a second, you felt like it was more than just a casual observation—like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. "You saw that?"

You had almost forgotten about the scrape, honestly. It had happened the day before when you’d tripped going up the stairs—nothing serious, just a small misstep as you were rushing between classes. You remembered cursing under your breath as you caught yourself on the railing, but the scrape was just a small inconvenience, easily forgotten in the chaos of your day.

Geo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers reached out, slow and measured, brushing across the skin of your palm where the scrape had left a thin red line. His touch was light at first, just skimming over the wound, but then it became more deliberate, more intentional as if he was examining it for signs you couldn’t even see.

His fingers tilted your hand gently, his touch soft but firm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. The way he lingered, taking his time to inspect the scrape, felt almost… protective. It wasn’t just the act of touching you—it was the focus, the way he seemed to memorize the small details, the way your skin felt against his.

When his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. There was something more than concern there—something deeper, something dangerous that you couldn’t quite place.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, voice barely audible beneath the soft murmur of conversation around you. His tone was almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken command.

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. For some reason, you felt like you were being tested—like he wasn’t just asking about the scrape, but about you.

"I tripped going up the stairs yesterday," you said, your voice soft, trying to make it sound casual. "Nothing serious. I just lost my balance, and scraped my hand a little on the railing."

Geo didn’t respond right away. He just continued to watch you with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out something you hadn’t said. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles again, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat of his touch linger long after he pulled his hand away.

“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze made it feel like there was more to this—more to him—than just a simple question about a scrape.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, his voice low, his thumb lingering a moment longer as though he was reluctant to let go. The space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second, and you felt an undeniable pull, a magnetism that you weren’t sure you could escape. 

And as he finally pulled back, letting your hand slip from his, you couldn’t help but feel that odd, electric tension still hanging in the air. If your heart skipped a beat at the lingering warmth from Geo’s touch, well… that was between you and him. 

The next day, you were sitting next to Sol, his usual spot on the college roof where he always claimed the corner near the ledge, as his friend Hyugo went to town on the packed lunch Sol had made for him. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sol was pissed—furious, to be exact—but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Not directly. Oh no, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t admit to stalking you hanging out with Geo, not even in the vaguest sense. So, you had to work for it.

You hadn’t even taken a full bite of your food before Sol was already speaking. "You made lunch today?" he asked, his voice far too casual. But you could hear the undercurrent of something. Jealousy? Possessiveness?

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth, and gave him a look. "No, Geo made it for me," you answered nonchalantly, barely glancing at him.

That stopped Sol cold. You saw his grip on his water bottle tighten, his expression faltering for just a moment. 

Hyugo, who had been enthusiastically chewing his food, even slowed down to glance at the both of you. "My little brother??" He blinked, the surprise in his voice unmistakable.

"Yeah," you said with a shrug, pushing your hair back out of your face. "We went out to a bakery yesterday. We had leftovers, so Geo made this for me with his own cooking."

You made a show of taking a bite of the food, trying to act casual, but you could tell Sol was barely holding it together. His face remained unreadable, but you could practically feel the simmering irritation in the air.

"Have fun?" Sol’s voice suddenly went tight—too tight. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered between you and Hyugo as if he were struggling to hold back something.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was happening. "Yup."

Sol’s grip on his water bottle tightened even more, the plastic creaking under his fingers. "Really?" His voice was lower now, tinged with something darker. The possessiveness was unmistakable.

You leaned back slightly, savoring the moment. "Mhm. Geo’s actually pretty great company, you know."

And that was it. That was the exact moment you saw something snap in Sol’s expression. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with barely contained rage. His gaze darkened to something dangerous, something you didn’t quite recognize but felt all the way down your spine. His hand, which had been resting on the ledge beside you, clenched into a fist, almost as if he were physically fighting the urge to pull you closer.

You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the raw jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

Next was Sol, of course.

You see, Sol was on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of lifestyle compared to Geo. Dyed hair, dark clothes, the entire emo aesthetic. But damn, despite all that edge, Sol never failed to make your jaw drop with the simplest actions. 

The way he carried himself, that intense gaze, the way his presence seemed to swallow the air around him. He was a walking contradiction—grungy yet perfectly composed, dangerous yet captivating.

You watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, leaning slightly toward him, you tilted your head, voice light as you broke the tension. "So, Sol... what are you doing tonight?"

He glanced at you quickly, but then his eyes slid back toward the ground, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nothing, why?" His voice was cool, but you could tell he was listening, waiting for your next words with that quiet intensity of his.

"How about we do something together?" you asked casually, making sure to catch his gaze, letting him know this wasn’t just an idle suggestion. "A little... escape from the usual?" For a split second, you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or if he was genuinely interested. 

You leaned in a little closer, watching his every move, waiting for the shift. "Maybe the arcade? Or the rooftop bar downtown?" you continued, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you named the places that were always ‘off-limits’ in some way—places where neither Geo nor any of his calculated controlled habits would be there to shadow you. 

You could feel Sol’s pulse race, his curiosity piqued, but you both knew he wasn’t going to admit it.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. You waited, knowing Sol was contemplating the idea with that unreadable look on his face. Then, with a slight shift in posture, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not both?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with that underlying tension.

You couldn’t help but smirk, a triumphant little rush sweeping over you. "Thought you’d say that."

He tilted his head at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. "You’re lucky I’m in the mood for it."

But you knew the truth: he wasn’t just in the mood for it. Sol was making this choice for a reason. He was staking his claim, showing you exactly what you meant to him, even if he wasn’t saying it outright.

"Let’s go then," you said, pushing up from the ledge and grabbing your bag. "I’ll drive."

You and Sol ended up at the arcade bar, the dim lighting, neon signs, and the sounds of games and laughter buzzing in the background. The place was filled with the usual mix of drunk college kids, rowdy groups playing shooting games, and couples lost in the flashing lights. The air smelled faintly of beer and popcorn, and the low hum of music blended with the clinking and clattering of game machines. 

You walked up to the claw game, your eyes immediately spotting a small plush sitting just out of reach, nestled between other stuffed animals. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you studied the claw’s movement. 

"Can you get it for me, Sol?" you asked innocently, but there was a hint of playful challenge in your tone. 

Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into that familiar, knowing smirk. "I’m not your personal claw machine expert, you know."

"Oh, come on. You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?" you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze, making sure he saw the way your fingers twitched at the machine's controls.

Sol didn’t reply right away, just watching you, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze followed your every move, always studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite crack. You didn’t expect him to move just yet, though—because you had a plan. 

The claw machine was already set up for failure in your favor. You purposefully timed your moves to keep missing the plush, missing the claw’s target by mere inches each time. It was an art at this point, a silent dance between you and the machine. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sol stepping up behind you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours for just a moment, the heat of him radiating even through the buzz of the arcade. His breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his chest rise and fall just behind you as he watched, his body too close for comfort, too close to be innocent.

“You’re missing the timing," Sol’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned down just enough for his nose to brush against the side of your hair. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, feel the way his hands hovered just above yours, ready to step in if you let him. "You need to wait for the claw to line up perfectly before you move it. Let it hang for a second longer."

You shivered slightly, the sound of his voice in your ear making something inside you stir. The combination of his closeness and the tension from the game made your heart race, your hand still hovering over the joystick.

"Show me," you murmured, your voice a little more breathless than you intended, the excitement of the moment taking over.

Sol didn’t hesitate. His hand brushed over yours, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he guided your movements, his body pressing further into yours. The subtle brush of his chest against your back made your breath hitch in your throat.

He adjusted your grip on the joystick, his fingers briefly brushing your skin as he gently moved your hand to line up the claw with the black cat. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against your ear as he spoke again, a soft command mixed with a hint of amusement. "Now, wait for it…"

You could feel his heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in your chest. His thumb brushed over your wrist lightly as you waited, the seconds dragging on forever.

And then, in a move so precise, you almost didn’t see it, the claw dipped down, catching the plush perfectly. You both watched in silence as it rose, bringing the plush toy closer and closer and finally dropping it into the prize chute. "Got it," you said, the words almost a whisper but filled with a triumphant smile. 

Sol stepped back, his body leaving a sudden chill in the space where he’d just been pressed against you. You turned to face him, only to see the satisfied, yet somehow unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you as you picked up the plush, holding it in your hands like it was some kind of prize—not just the one you won from the claw game.

"You’re welcome," Sol muttered under his breath, but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his lips barely twitched into something close to a smirk, told you everything you needed to know.

The next day, after classes, you found yourself lounging in the usual spot outside the campus café, the one with the low-sunk benches and worn-out cushions, perfect for chilling when the afternoon sun warmed everything just right. Crowe and Geo were the only ones free—everyone else was busy with their own afternoon classes, leaving the three of you with some time to kill. 

You’d already had your morning classes earlier, just like Crowe and Geo, getting the heavy lifting out of the way so you could enjoy the rest of the day without the looming shadow of assignments or exams. It was quiet, just the hum of conversations from other students and the occasional passing car. 

Crowe casually leaned back in his seat, fiddling with his phone, but then his gaze landed on the plush you had won at the arcade bar last night. The small plush sat beside you, nestled in your arms. It was barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Crowe definitely noticed.

"You went to the arcade bar last night, huh?" he remarked casually, lifting an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over to the plush. "Looks like you had fun. You win that?" He pointed to the black cat in your lap, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you shrugged. "Yeah, had a pretty good time." You could almost feel Crowe’s curiosity growing, but you didn’t give him too much to work with. You weren’t sure if you were ready to delve into the details of your night just yet.

But before you could say anything else, Geo, who’d been unusually quiet up until now, spoke up, his tone casual yet probing. "Did you go with Brittany?" he asked, his gaze flickering briefly toward you as he leaned forward slightly.

You tilted your head, giving him a sideways glance. "No," you replied with a small, knowing smile. "I went with Sol."

Crowe’s eyes widened slightly at that, his interest piqued. "Sol?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The guy you partner up with in your art gen ed?"

You nodded, glancing at Geo from the corner of your eye. "Yeah. That's him."

For a moment, the conversation seemed to stall. Geo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his energy shift slightly, the subtle tension in the air thickening. His eyes remained cool, distant, like always—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker. A brief crack in his calm, and then it was gone, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it. 

Crowe, however, seemed much more openly intrigued. "Didn't know you two hung out like that," he said, still grinning. "Interesting."

You met Geo's eyes again, but this time, he was looking at the table, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. His face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had asked about Brittany—so focused, so sharp—left you with a sense of unease. It was subtle, but there.

You couldn’t help but watch him for a beat longer than necessary, but Geo’s cool demeanor didn’t crack. If he was feeling anything, he wasn’t showing it.

"Yeah," you said again, your voice quieter now as you let the weight of your words sink in. "Sol’s... something."

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Something, huh?" He leaned in a little closer, his playful teasing tone back. "Sounds like you're keeping some secrets from us."

You just shrugged again, keeping the mystery between you all. You didn’t need to explain yourself. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the conversation drifted off, but you could feel Geo’s eyes flicking to you every so often like he was sizing something up. Whether it was the situation, you, or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.

But for now, you weren’t going to push.

After all, this had been going on for months now—stretching into the current year. Geo and Sol—two men who had wormed their way into your thoughts in ways you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t just when you were around them. No, their presence lingered even when they weren’t there, like an unshakable hum in the back of your mind. It circled you constantly, like an orbit you couldn’t escape, especially as you sat in bed late at night, trying to focus on your homework.

Every time you’d start to make progress, one of them would pop into your head, their images uninvited and persistent.

Sometimes, you'd find yourself imagining them both vying for your attention at once—Geo, with his cool, almost aloof demeanor, and Sol, burning with that raw, intense energy he always carried. You’d picture them both charming you at the same time, competing for your affections in some twisted game. You’d have to smack your head with a pillow to shake the thought loose, as if physical force could snap you back into reality.

The silent gentleman, Geo, who made you feel like you were the only person in the room with his quiet attention, and Sol, the intense heartthrob, who always seemed like he was on the verge of devouring everything you were—each one tugged at your heart in a different way. 

Your heart was split between the two of them, and the struggle was maddening.

In class, your mind would wander again, caught between the two. This was supposed to be a fun little game—something lighthearted. You didn’t want to fall for either of them, not really. Yet, despite knowing it wasn’t fair to claim both, your heart couldn't help but yearn for both of them, even if you couldn’t have them. You couldn’t be that person, could you? Still, the idea lingered, like a tempting thought that wouldn’t leave. Ugh. What the hell were you going to do?

It’s not like you could have a threesome with them, right?

…Unless…

Before you could delve deeper into that increasingly absurd—and wildly tempting—thought, a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, you good?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. There was Sol, standing over you, his pen set down on the table in front of you. His hand—big and warm—reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a simple, almost gentle touch. 

It was something so small, so subtle, but it completely threw you off. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to cough to cover the sudden rush of heat flooding your chest.

Shit.

"You sure?" Sol’s voice was low and steady, but there was a note of concern in it that caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on you, studying your face, as if trying to decipher what was going on behind your cool exterior. "That look on your face says otherwise."

You quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off, though you knew it didn’t quite work. “I’m fine, really,” you said, though your voice had a slight edge to it—irritation creeping in. Why was he always so perceptive? It made you uncomfortable.

Sol didn’t buy it. Of course, he didn’t. He stood there, watching you with that intense gaze of his, making you feel like he could see right through you. Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe the situation was more complicated than you'd like to admit, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who could throw you off balance with just a touch.

But no, you wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. You were fine.

You were just… fine. Right?

Fuck no.

Art class ended, and the moment the bell rang, you bolted out of the classroom, making a quick escape. You needed to get away—fast. The building seemed endless, but you were determined to make it out as you pushed the glass door open before you ran into anyone who would slow you down.

But as you rounded the corner, you collided with something—no, someone. Strong arms caught you before you could stumble back. You looked up to find Geo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face, clearly waiting for you.

“Watch where you’re going,” Geo said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it as he held you firmly. “Could’ve fallen.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat from the sudden closeness. “I know,” you muttered, pulling away from his grip. But as you tried to step back, you could feel his gaze on you, like he could read you better than anyone else. 

Oh shit.

“Something wrong?” Geo asked, his tone softer, more probing now. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not with half the school walking by, eyes glued to the scene. You couldn’t bring yourself to make this anything public—not when the whole damn hallway was buzzing with life. You didn’t want to be an exhibit. 

“Nothing,” you snapped, avoiding his gaze as you turned to walk away, trying to make your steps as quick and purposeful as possible.

But of course, Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide. You could feel the weight of his footsteps behind you, steady like he wasn’t planning to let you go that easily.

You kept walking, the distance between you and him narrowing as he caught up with you, his presence heavy in the air.

“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said, his voice low and knowing. 

You almost wanted to tell him to drop it. To stop following you. But you couldn’t find the words. You’d rather deal with this alone in your studio apartment at your dorm building. Maybe just let the work pile up, let the hours drag on. You didn’t want to have this conversation—not now, not in front of everyone.

But as Geo walked behind you, you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you hide from it.

You walked briskly toward your dorm, eager for the quiet refuge of your room. The noise of the campus buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. You needed a moment to think, to breathe, to escape the tension that had been building all day.

Just as you rounded the corner, ready to slip inside the safety of your dorm building, your luck completely betrayed you.

Sol stood in front of the door, arms crossed, his usual playful smirk replaced by something that looked almost like frustration. Behind you, you could feel Geo’s presence, steady and unyielding. He’d caught up to you.

“Can I help you?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice as you stopped short, staring at Sol’s casual stance.

Sol’s eyes flickered to Geo for a moment before focusing back on you. “So, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with amusement, but there was a clear edge to it, like he knew something you weren’t saying.

Geo didn’t speak at first, standing just behind you, as if guarding the space between you and Sol. He wasn’t making any moves to push past, but his presence was unmistakable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You took a deep breath, hoping the annoyance that flared in your chest didn’t spill out as you spoke. “Nothing’s going on,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’m just trying to get to my dorm.”

“Oh, you’re trying to get to your dorm?” Sol repeated, his eyebrows lifting slightly, a mock sweetness to his voice. “How convenient. He’s with you, but I haven’t seen him follow you here before.”

Geo shifted slightly behind you, his gaze on Sol but saying nothing. His silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm, but you didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not here.

“Seriously,” you said, your voice tight, trying to push past the bubbling frustration. “I’m not in the mood for this, okay? I’m not doing whatever game you two are playing. I just want some space.”

Sol stepped forward, blocking your path. “But space from what? From me? Or from Him?” He said, more like in a worried tone.

Your heart skipped, and the tension in your chest built up again. You had no idea what either of them wanted—if they were trying to get under your skin, if they were genuinely concerned, or if they just liked messing with you. 

Either way, you were getting frustrated.

Geo finally spoke, his voice low and even. “There’s right. If they want space, they should get it.”

Sol’s gaze shifted to him, then back to you. His lips pressed together in the way he did when he was trying to hold back. But the tension between them was palpable. You could feel the pull of it, both of them watching you, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew you didn’t want to find out.

“So what’s it going to be?” Sol asked, his tone still light but sharper now, like a blade hidden under velvet.

You were fucked, weren’t you? 

Stuck between two guys who couldn’t seem to let you be, two men who both knew how to get to you in different ways. And for once, you didn’t know how to escape it. You didn’t know how to get them both to leave you alone. 

You had to choose your next words carefully, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what the right choice even was.

The silence hung thick between you, Sol and Geo, both of them locked in a battle of wills without saying much—yet it felt like everything was being said. You could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to suffocate.

Then, with the smallest crack in the quiet, it started.

“You can’t seriously be this fucking oblivious, can you?” Sol’s voice was sharp, a knife-edge cutting through the air. His eyes flared with a familiar anger, but there was something else there now—something possessive.

Geo didn’t back down. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was steady, but there was a hardness to it, something dangerous lurking beneath the calm.

“Oh, you’re really gonna act like you don’t know?” Sol snapped, taking a step forward, his gaze never leaving Geo. “There’s not some fucking toy for you to keep playing with. Can’t you see there’s already fucking exhausted from all of this?”

The words hit like a punch, but they weren’t aimed at you—not directly. Still, you could feel the weight of them, as if they were pulling you in, squeezing tighter and tighter.

You stood there, frozen. 

Your thoughts swirled in your mind—fuck this, you can’t deal with this now. 

You wanted to scream, to tell them to shut up and let you go, but the words never came. Instead, you just stared at the ground, feeling the pressure of the moment pressing down on you.

“Exhausted?” Geo’s laugh was low, almost bitter. “They haven’t said a word to me about being tired of anything.” His eyes flicked to you, but for once, you didn’t meet his gaze. You couldn’t. It would make it worse.

“No one is talking to you…” Sol’s voice was nearly a growl now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him like he was a flame ready to burn everything down. “Is that how this is going to be? ‘Cause you know what? I’m not letting you have her.”

Geo’s response was immediate, and the words were like steel. “Oh, I don’t have to take anything from you. I’m not the one chasing her around pretending to be thier fucking savior.”

You winced at the word savior. It felt like everything was crumbling in on itself. The walls that you had spent so long trying to keep up—between them, between your feelings, between yourself—were crumbling into dust.

And you didn’t stop them. You didn’t say a word. The argument, as much as it was hurting you, felt easier than breaking the silence. It felt better than picking a side, better than making this worse.

Instead, you just stood there, eyes glued to the floor, heart racing as the fight between them escalated. Every word, every accusation, every harsh tone felt like a dagger.

This is your fault, isn’t it? Playing a game between two possessive men... 

Ugh. All you wanted was to be left alone. To breathe. But the more you tried to avoid the chaos, the tighter it clenched around you, suffocating you at every turn.

Sol stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. “There’s not some game. You can’t just show up and expect them to fall in line. You don’t get to have them like that.”

Geo took a step forward, closing the space between them. “And who the hell are you to say how I get to have them? Do you think you can control this? You think you can keep acting like they belong to you?”

You could feel your pulse quicken as the anger between them seemed to rise, boiling over, threatening to explode. You were caught in the middle, a bystander to a fight that you caused.

And still, you did nothing. You didn’t speak, didn’t intervene. You just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to fight back the suffocating wave of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.

“Stop it,” you finally whispered, so quietly that neither of them seemed to hear it at first. But they were both too deep in their argument to notice.

"Stop," you said louder this time, your voice shaking but firm. “Just stop. I don’t want this.”

Geo and Sol froze at the sound of your voice, both of them pausing mid-sentence, and for a moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—they might listen. But then Geo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“Look, I don’t need your help, either of you. I’m just… I just need some fucking space,” you said, your words sharp and exhausted, finally breaking the dam of silence that had been holding you in place. You didn’t want to explain yourself anymore. You just wanted them to understand.

Geo and Sol exchanged a brief, tense glance, but neither of them moved.

Your voice cracked slightly as you took another step back. “Please. Just… give me some time.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, the weight of their eyes on your back like a burning brand. The silence between you all lingered as you left them standing there, words unfinished in the air. 

You didn't know what would come next, but for now, you needed to be alone.

You slammed the door behind you, leaning your forehead against the cool wood for a moment, just to collect yourself. The weight of it all hit you then—every little mistake, every decision that had led to this point. Slowly, you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as if holding yourself together was the only thing left you could do.

You hated this. Hated the mess you’d made. Hated that you thought you could handle it, that you could juggle them both without consequences. The worst part? You didn’t even really know what you were hoping for—what you thought would happen. You had an idea, but now that you were here, it felt like you’d just stepped into your own trap.

You cared for both of them, deeply. And as much as that made your chest ache, you couldn’t forget that they were adults, just like you. They were capable of making their own decisions, and this mess? It was your doing. You let it spiral. 

With a deep sigh, you finally pulled off your shoes and tossed them aside, already thinking about the shower you desperately needed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be chill by the time you were done. 

But, fuck, who were you kidding? This was far from over.

Meanwhile, Geo exhaled sharply through his nose, the tension in his shoulders growing with every missed shot. The arrow barely scraped the target this time, and he clicked his tongue in frustration. It wasn’t like him to miss. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled—but his mind? His mind was an absolute mess.

Because of you.

Five damn calls. Five times he let it ring, only to get nothing in return. He had half a mind to try again, but instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and shot off a final text.

I’ll leave you alone.

And yet, the moment he sent it, he regretted it. He didn't want to leave you alone. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Before he could dwell on it, a voice cut through the air.

“So, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Geo didn’t even flinch. He already knew who it was before he turned his head. Sol was standing in the archery room now, door shut behind him, posture loose but his eyes sharp.

Geo rolled his eyes, lowering his bow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, emo.”

That was the last straw.

In a blink, Sol had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. Geo barely had time to process the shift before Sol’s voice came low and dark.

“Don’t start that ignorant bullshit,” Sol growled, fingers tightening in Geo’s shirt. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me look like an ass.”

Geo let out a breath of laughter, cool and effortless, but there was an edge to it. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” His smirk deepened the glint in his eye anything but apologetic. “You do that enough as it is.”

Sol’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening. His eyes were burning, brimming with something dangerously close to fury.

Geo just sighed.

Sol’s jaw twitched, his fingers still tight in Geo’s collar as he narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was low, simmering with something dangerous. "You’re obsessed. You keep trying to prove you’re better than me—so much so that you’d stoop this low?"  

Geo let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. "Obsessed?" He tilted his head slightly, considering the word. "If I were obsessed, you wouldn't even be able to breathe near them." His voice was smooth, even. "I trust them. I respect them. That’s what this is. You? You just want control."  

Sol's grip wavered for half a second before his teeth clenched. "That’s some bullshit ass-kissing if I’ve ever heard it."  

Geo’s smirk barely faltered. "And yet, you’re the one constantly up their ass for attention." He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping lower, colder. "How about you try treating them like a normal person instead of acting like you own them?"  

Sol's expression darkened, but Geo didn’t move, didn’t even blink. The tension was suffocating, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them like a loaded gun.  

Then, with deliberate slowness, Geo reached up and pried Sol’s fingers off his collar, brushing himself off as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.  

"I’d say grow up," Geo muttered, turning away, "but we both know that’s never happening."

Sol let out a short, humorless laugh. "I have no problem settling this with my fists, you know." His tone was sharp, a direct challenge.  

Geo rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Right, because that’s always worked so well for you." He adjusted the strap on his archery gear, not even looking at Sol as he spoke. "You can threaten me all you want, but we both know neither of us would like where that road leads."  

Sol’s fingers twitched. His patience was razor-thin. "Tch." His brows furrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. "You always got that smug, rich asshole act going, huh?" He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "News flash, dude—just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you're better than me."  

Geo finally turned to face him, completely unfazed. "Never said I was." He packed up the rest of his things, moving with an infuriating amount of calm. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked.  

"And?" His voice was light, almost teasing. "At least I’m not some crazy ‘yandere’ lover."  

That was it. Sol’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. 

Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Neither of them were backing down.  

Not until you choose.  

You stepped outside, and the cold hit you first—a stark contrast to the warmth of your dorm, where you had been holed up for the past week. The wind carried the faint chatter of students, the distant sound of traffic blending with the occasional echo of laughter. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café lingered in the air, but even that didn’t soothe the tension coiling in your chest.  

The campus felt the same, unchanged as if the world had continued spinning without you. And yet, to you, everything felt different. The space between each step felt heavier, your mind was unwilling the overthink thoughts.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, fingers clenching the fabric as you moved toward the main part of campus. It should’ve felt freeing, stepping out again, stretching your legs after days of isolation. But instead, a strange unease settled in your gut, an unshakable tension that refused to leave.  

You sighed, pulling out your phone, and you flicked through your notifications.  

Missed Calls: 15+

Messages Unread: 10+

Both are from Sol and Geo.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You really should call them back.  

But which one?  

If you called Geo first, Sol would find out—one way or another. If you called Sol, Geo would know. Those two could be halfway across the world from each other, and they’d still figure it out.  

Just your luck.  

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you thought about just ignoring them both for another day—but you already knew that wouldn’t last.  

So...

Who first?

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You inhaled deeply, feeling the moment's weight settle over you as you stared at Sol’s contact on your phone screen. The decision to finally call him had been a long time coming, but now that it was here, your stomach churned with the uncertainty of what might follow.

You tapped the screen, watching the call ring, each second stretching longer than the last.

The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.

"You finally decided to call," he said, his voice lower than usual—quieter, almost softer, but there was an edge to it. Not anger. Not relief. But something else that you couldn’t quite place. The words hung in the air, a strange mixture of resignation and something else that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at your insides. You’d kept your distance for so long. Too long. And now, hearing his voice—so calm, but threaded with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension—it felt almost like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. I figured it was about time," you said, your voice steady despite the roiling anxiety beneath the surface.

There was a long pause on the other end, just the faintest sound of him exhaling—a sigh of sorts. You could almost hear the weight of the silence before he spoke again. 

"You okay?"

The simplicity of the question threw you off. You expected sarcasm, irritation—hell, even some passive-aggressive jabs would’ve been easier to handle. But this? It was genuine. A rawness in his tone that cut through everything else. He was asking, not because he wanted something, but because he actually cared. And that scared you.

You swallowed, fighting the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer. "I—yeah. I just needed time," you said, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

"I get that now," he replied after a beat, the faint rasp in his voice betraying something deeper. "But I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t like it."

His honesty hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but somehow, it felt like a relief. Sol wasn’t the type to mince words, and in this moment, you knew exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this conversation, but it was clear that what you’d put off for so long was finally catching up to both of you.

There was another long silence, the kind that settled heavy between you, and you could almost feel him on the other side of the phone, waiting, unsure of what you were going to say next. 

"Can we talk?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could second-guess them. The finality of it surprised you—this was it. The moment you’d both been dancing around for too long.

Sol was quiet for a second, the kind of silence that stretched just a little too long, leaving you hanging on the edge of the conversation, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. You held your breath, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, though still laced with that familiar edge of uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, the words carrying a subtle weight, as though he were wondering if this was something you both could handle.

"I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t," you replied, your voice firmer now. You weren’t going to back down. You needed to talk. You needed answers. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him.

There was a shift in his tone, like a decision had been made. A soft exhale followed by the sound of movement on his end, maybe him shifting in his seat, maybe running a hand through his hair. You could almost picture it—Sol, leaning back, thinking, processing everything that had happened. 

"All right," he said finally. "Art classroom. After classes. The door’s open."

The way he said it made your heart skip. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a call to meet, a place where things could be sorted. He wasn’t forcing it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his words. He wanted to talk, too.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "Okay," you replied, the single word carrying more weight than anything else you could’ve said.

"Good," Sol responded, his tone softer now. "See you then."

The call ended with a click, and for a moment, you just stood there, holding the phone in your hand, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you couldn’t keep running anymore. Whatever was between you and Sol—it was time to face it. 

Whatever happened, you would figure it out.

With a heavy sigh, you set the phone down, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation would bring. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The air outside was crisp, the warmth of the midday sun barely cutting through the lingering chill of early spring. Students filtered across the courtyard in waves, either rushing to their next class or loitering in clusters, laughing and chatting like nothing in the world could touch them.

You wished you could feel that kind of ease right now. Instead, the weight of unfinished business pressed against your chest as you stepped out of the building, prepared to put as much distance between yourself and the past week's tension as possible.

Then you saw him.

Geo.

Leaning against a pillar near the main walkway, his phone in hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at you—not directly—but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his posture shifted, the subtle tilt of his head.

He’d been waiting for you. Your stomach tightened. Great.

Your grip on your bag strap tightened as you debated walking right past him. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe you could avoid whatever this conversation was going to be—at least for a little longer.

But you knew better.

Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide, not when something was clearly bothering him. And sure enough, just as you tried to step around him, his voice cut through the noise of passing students.

"Hey."

You exhaled sharply, stopping in your tracks. “Hey, Geo.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze. Sharp, assessing—searching.

For what? You weren’t sure.

Whatever he saw in your face made something in his expression tighten, but he didn’t press immediately. Instead, he pushed off the pillar with an easy, practiced motion, sliding his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside you.

Like this was normal. It wasn’t.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure what to say, and for once, Geo didn’t immediately break it with some casual comment.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Okay, this is getting awkward as hell."

You turned to see Crowe standing a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow arched in amusement.

Geo scoffed. "No one's talking to you, Jericho.”

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta say it," Crowe shot back, stepping closer. He looked between you and Geo before sighing. "All right, real talk? You two need to clear the air, 'cause this weird-ass tension? It's making everyone uncomfortable."

Your stomach twisted. You knew it. Of course, the group had noticed. Even if you had spent the past week avoiding everyone, the energy between you and Geo—between you, Geo, and Sol—had lingered like a stain.

You exhaled sharply. "Crowe, not now."

"Then when?" Crowe challenged. "You can’t keep dodging this forever. And I know damn well Geo won’t drop it."

You flicked a glance at Geo, and sure enough, he was watching you carefully. He hadn’t denied it.

You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the weight pressing down on you. “I just—” You cut yourself off, sighing again.

Geo spoke then, low and even. "I just want to talk."

It was that simple. Yet, it wasn’t.

Crowe tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "So?"

You hesitated. You had already agreed to see Sol later. Adding Geo into the mix now? It felt like asking for trouble.

But at the same time…

You swallowed. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Geo nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets. Crowe grinned like he had just won something.

"Good. Now, I’m gonna leave before I end up in the middle of some dramatic lovers' quarrel." He spun on his heel and walked off, muttering under his breath about “people and their complicated ass relationships.”

You took a slow breath, turning to Geo. “Where do you wanna do this?”

He gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”

You nodded. And with that, you fell into step beside him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid press down on you. Geo's silence as you walked together was unnerving, but not unusual. You had known him long enough to recognize when he was working something out in his head, dissecting information and piecing together a bigger picture.

And then—

"You're going to see him, aren't you?"

You froze for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him. “How do you—”

Geo smirked, but there was no amusement in his expression. "You just gave yourself away."

Fuck.

You clenched your jaw, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “I have to talk to him,” you admitted, voice measured.

Geo hummed, as if considering something, then tilted his head. "Because you like him?"

That stopped you. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The words were there, pressing against your tongue, but they refused to come out.

Geo exhaled sharply, leaning his head back before looking at you again, his usual cool demeanor cracking just slightly. "You need to stay away from him." His voice was firm, but not commanding—like he was trying to warn you rather than control you. "He’s not what you think he is."

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh, what, you’re jealous?”

Geo didn’t react right away, just watching you with an unreadable expression. You turned to leave, deciding you were done with this conversation, but before you could take more than two steps, his hand caught yours.

Not forcefully. Not to restrain. Just… holding.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His fingers were warm around yours, his grip firm but careful.

"I'm serious." His voice was softer this time, his brows drawing together slightly. "Believe me."

Your breath hitched. Geo wasn’t the type to plead, not like this.

You stared at him, then sighed, pulling your hand away. “Geo.” Your tone was tired. “I’m gonna see him. Whether you like it or not.”

Geo inhaled through his nose, shaking his head as if you were being stubborn. "Use that brain of yours," he muttered, frustrated but still concerned. "You can see it, can't you? Sol isn't a good person."

You met his gaze, searching for something in his eyes—anger, bitterness, jealousy. But all you found was worry.

Still, you shook your head. “I’ll figure things out myself.”

And with that, you walked away, leaving Geo standing there, watching you go.

The sun had long since begun to set by the time you made your way to the art building, the cool evening air wrapping around you in a welcome embrace. The campus felt quieter than usual, the steady hum of student chatter replaced by the low murmur of distant conversations and the occasional rustle of leaves. You walked down the hallway, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors, before coming to the art studio door.

You hesitated just for a second, your hand hovering over the doorknob before you pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was hardly lit, the golden hues of the sunset spilling through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the scattered easels and half-finished projects. The smell of graphite and paint lingered in the air, a familiar comfort. The hum of a quiet heater filled the space, and the soft shuffle of papers as someone moved around was the only sound.

And there he was.

Sol sat on a stool near the center of the room, a sketchpad resting on his knees. His dark hair hung just a little too long over his eyes, his usual brooding expression softened in concentration. He didn’t even notice you at first, completely absorbed in the pencil gliding across the paper. You stood there for a moment, watching him, the way the soft light hit his face, the tension in his posture, the faint frown of concentration as his hand moved with practiced ease.

It was like a moment frozen in time. 

You almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But then, just as you made a move to step forward, Sol looked up. His eyes met yours with that piercing gaze of his, dark and unreadable for a brief second. He blinked, his pencil pausing mid-air, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

He stood up slowly, pushing the stool back with a faint scrape of metal against the floor. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually show up. He stepped toward you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you like a heavy cloud.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sol said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he had been waiting for this moment for a while. He took a few steps closer, his hands shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.

You didn’t answer right away, still trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you had come here for a reason, and you weren’t going to back out now. The air felt heavy, charged, as you looked him over, taking in the dark lines of his hoodie, the way his posture made him seem almost too perfect for this setting.

“Sol…” you started, your voice almost too quiet against the stillness of the room. You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes. “We need to talk.”

His expression shifted, ever so slightly, but you could tell he understood what you meant. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips pressing together tightly, before he nodded once, slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unreadable. “We do.”

He didn’t say anything else, just stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch out between you both. The space between you was intimate in a way that was almost suffocating, but you didn’t back away.

“I guess…” Sol started, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you came. I didn’t have anything better to do.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”

You chuckled softly, the sound almost a little hollow in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The absurdity of it all hit you then—how this had escalated, how you’d been caught between two men who seemed to be competing for your attention in ways you couldn’t quite understand or even fully control.

You couldn’t help but find it almost funny, the way both Geo and Sol had turned their jealousy into some kind of twisted competition, each trying to outdo the other. It had felt like a game at first, but now? Now, it was starting to weigh on you.

"You know," you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally broke the silence, "it’s funny. The way you and Geo both get all... jealous. Like you both think it’s some sort of competition to see who can make me crack first."

Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shift in his expression that you recognized. But you weren’t done yet.

"You both get under each other’s skin so easily, and it's... honestly kind of funny watching you two try to outdo each other," you continued, leaning against the edge of a nearby desk, arms folded. "But it’s exhausting too, don’t you think? Playing these mind games."

Sol stood there, jaw tight, his hands twitching by his sides as if he were trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His silence only fueled your need to vent more.

"Who’s more jealous?" you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you could even stop them. "You? Or Geo?"

Sol’s expression didn’t shift. He was standing there, his eyes scanning you, but you could see the flicker of frustration in them. You could feel the tension rising, but you didn’t want to be here anymore—not like this. The whole situation, the constant pull between them, was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just because they were being possessive. It was because you cared about both of them in ways you didn’t know how to explain.

You paused and shook your head, dropping your arms from your chest. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

Sol’s gaze softened just a fraction as you spoke, and he stepped a little closer to you, though he was still keeping a distance. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice quieter, less biting now.

You sighed, your mind spinning. "I don’t want to be a part of this game anymore. The whole back and forth, the jealousy. I need peace." Your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. "I don’t want to be the prize in some stupid contest."

Sol’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. There was a long, heavy pause as you stared at him, fighting the urge to turn away.

“You’re here to let me down, then?” he asked, his voice rougher now, a hint of something darker in it that sent a chill down your spine. He was looking at you like he didn’t know what to make of you anymore.

"No," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I’m not here to let you down." You took a breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I just… I like you. I do. I like you more than I care to admit, and that’s the truth."

There. You said it. Out loud, right in front of him. You had to admit it at some point, and there was no better time than now. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, though the air still felt thick with tension. You still cared for Geo, but when it came down to it, you realized it was Sol you were drawn to the most. His intensity, the way he never seemed to need to explain himself, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it had all tangled together in your mind in ways you couldn't ignore anymore.

Sol stared at you for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly, but still guarded. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence between you both felt suffocating. His eyes flickered between your face and your lips as if trying to read you, understand you, but it seemed like you had caught him off guard.

"I..." he started, then paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You don’t know how fucked up this is," he muttered under his breath, his voice low. "I didn’t think you’d actually come here and say that."

You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in, everything hanging between the two of you. But you didn't regret it. Not really.

“I needed to say it,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his with as much certainty as you could muster. "I’m done with the games, Sol."

He took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. He was still watching you, trying to figure out where you stood, and where this would go next.

Then suddenness of Sol’s movement caught you completely off guard. One moment, he was standing in front of you, his expression guarded and intense, and the next, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Before you could react, he spun you around and slammed you against the cold surface of one of the tables in the empty art classroom. The sound of it echoed in the otherwise quiet room, but you couldn’t focus on that. 

All you could focus on was him. 

His body was pressed against yours, pinning you down, and you felt the heat radiating off him. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, his red-orange eyes darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but could feel in your bones—a hunger, a possessiveness. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, and you froze, caught in the intensity of the moment.

"Sol," you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of uncertainty and something else, something you couldn’t quite understand.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down on the table beside you with a strength that left no room for resistance. You could feel the pressure of his grip, the way he was keeping you in place, making sure you didn’t move. His thumb brushed lightly over your pulse, sending a chill through you as his gaze lowered to your lips.

"I’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice rough, as if it were a secret he’d been dying to share. "I should’ve made you mine sooner, pumpkin. Shouldn’t have let you slip away, should’ve known you were mine from the start."

Before you could respond, before you could even process the words, his lips crashed onto yours. It was fierce, desperate, and possessive, his kiss taking control immediately. His mouth was hot, demanding, and he pulled you closer, using his hold on your wrist to keep you trapped beneath him. 

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved against yours, and the more you tried to breathe, the tighter he pulled you. His body felt like a weight on top of you, keeping you locked in place. You tried to pull away, to create some distance, but his grip on your wrist tightened, and he growled low in his throat, making it clear that escape was not an option. 

Sol pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss.

"You belong to me now, pumpkin," he whispered, his voice rough with a possessive edge. His eyes never left yours, a dangerous gleam flashing in them. "I’ll make sure to keep you close. No one will ever get to you again. Not Geo, not anyone. You’re mine."

The way he said it, the way he held you down, his possessive words cutting through the air—it wasn’t just affection. It wasn’t even love. It was something darker, something terrifying, and you realized, with a growing sense of dread, that you were trapped. 

His gaze never wavered as he leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a chill through your spine. 

"You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget that."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His grip on your wrist, the intensity in his eyes, and the force of his kiss had left you breathless. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever. And as much as you wanted to pull away, part of you realized that you didn’t know if you could.

Sol wasn’t the same as before. He wasn’t just a guy you liked. He was someone else now—a person who wanted to keep you locked away, close to him, in a way that was almost suffocating. You wanted to break free, but somehow, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 

Not without his permission.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 

He's longer; sorry, I’m biased.

You stared at your phone for a long moment, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You had spent the last week cooped up in your dorm, tangled in your own thoughts, unable to find peace with yourself or with them.

Sol and Geo... the constant pull between them had turned everything into a confusing mess. 

But now? You needed clarity. You needed someone who wouldn’t add more fuel to the fire, someone who would just listen without trying to one-up the other. Maybe you were kidding yourself—because this was Geo, after all. But you needed this.  

Taking a deep breath, you hovered your fingers over the screen, glancing at the missed calls again. Your pulse was racing, the anxiety of the choice settling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face this alone—but you also didn’t want to avoid it.  

After what felt like an eternity, you made the decision.

You called Geo.  

It rang three times before his voice answered, and you immediately felt the warmth in his tone, like he had been waiting for this call. But there was something else too, something that made you pause—a quiet concern hidden beneath his words.  

“Hey, you okay?”  

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You didn’t know how to explain it, so you didn’t try to. Instead, you just said what you needed to say.  

“I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”  

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking it over. But he didn’t push for more information. He simply agreed, his voice calm and understanding.  

“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”  

You bit your lip, a brief moment of indecision hitting you. But then it came to you. "Where you at?"  

He paused for a beat before replying, “About to start classes, but later I have archery practice.”  

“Bet,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m coming when you have practice.”  

Before he could say anything else, you hung up. The decision felt sudden like you were just throwing yourself into the unknown, but there was a strange sense of relief mixed with it.  

Damn, that really overwhelmed you.  

You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. The tension that had built up over the past few days began to loosen slightly—though you weren’t fooling yourself. There was still so much left unsaid.

The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and assignments. Your mind kept wandering to your phone, to the call you had just made to Geo. Every time you tried to focus, the weight of everything from the past few weeks came crashing down on you again, clouding your thoughts. You hated the feeling of being so torn, but there was little you could do to change it now.  

After your last class, you quickly went to the campus snack shop. You grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars, trying to grab a bit of comfort before meeting up with Sol and Hyugo for lunch. The campus was busy with students, the energy of their conversations filling the air, but you felt strangely detached from it all.  

You reached the stairs leading to the roof, where you were supposed to meet them. The familiar sight of the door at the top of the stairs felt almost comforting, like a safe haven. But when you pushed the door open and stepped onto the roof, you only saw Sol.  

You paused, momentarily confused. 

The quiet hum of the city outside the campus walls mixed with the soft sound of wind brushing against the roof, creating a peaceful atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.

But Sol?

He was there, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His usual sharp, confident demeanor softened in the warm sunlight, and there was a rare stillness about him, something you didn’t often get to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly shook it off, determined not to let yourself be distracted. You needed to focus, to stay grounded, even though everything felt like it was slipping away.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the quiet air.

Sol turned to face you, his eyes scanning you for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. You noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes, signs of something deeper—a weariness that didn't quite match his usual carefree attitude. He straightened up slowly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, but something about it felt off.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the snacks you’d bought and handing him a bag of chips before grabbing one for yourself. “I bought lunch. Where’s Hyugo?” you asked, looking around, expecting to see him somewhere nearby.

Sol’s smirk faltered, and he shifted his weight slightly, eyes briefly flicking away as if he were debating whether to say something. “He’s upset at me,” Sol said, his tone flat, almost defensive.

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “What? Why?”

Sol didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, his eyes studying you for a moment as if he was weighing how much he wanted to reveal. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice now, something that made it clear there was more to the story.

You stared at him, wondering if you should press further, but before you could, Sol asked, “Are you meeting up with Geo today?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. 

The look in his eyes was tried, searching. It was as if he already knew the answer, but he was waiting for you to say it. You felt a wave of unease wash over you. Should you lie? Should you be truthful? You knew that whatever you said, Sol would read through it, and yet, you didn’t want to push him further.

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Finally, you gave a small, uncertain nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” you said, almost as though you were answering a question you hadn't been ready to face.

The silence hung heavy between you and Sol, the wind carrying a cool edge that seemed to make everything feel even colder. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as you shifted uneasily beside him, and when he spoke again, his voice was more urgent than before, more desperate.

“Don’t meet with him,” Sol said, his tone low but intense, like a warning. He was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the railing a little too tightly. 

“He is from that rich society that happened to be kicked out of, and you know what that means. You don’t belong in that world. It’s all fake, all about status and image. Why do you want to be with someone like that? Someone who looks at everything like it’s just a game for him?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words tumbling out in a stream of disapproval, each one landing with a weight that made you feel suffocated.

You could feel his words digging into you, his frustration and anger clear, as though he had been holding this in for too long. The more he spoke, the more you could hear the layers of jealousy and resentment hidden beneath the surface.

“Why are you even considering him?” Sol went on, his eyes now locked on you, sharp and accusing. “You think he’s different, but trust me, he’s not. He’s nothing but a walking reflection of everything that’s wrong with that world. You’re just another thing to him, a new toy to play with before he gets bored. And you—” Sol paused, his voice dipping, almost as if he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, “You’re smarter than that. You deserve better than to be some rich boy’s little distraction.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. You had been hearing this for days, and it was starting to feel like a broken record. His words kept echoing in your head, over and over, but with each passing second, it became harder to listen. 

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you good?” You finally blurted out, your voice sharp with irritation, cutting through his tirade. “Are you seriously obsessed with me or something?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, the question hanging in the air between you two like a live wire.

Sol’s expression faltered for just a moment, his eyes flashing with something unreadable, something that was maybe a little too close to the truth. But then, without warning, his face hardened again, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sol muttered, more to himself than to you, turning his attention back to the skyline. His posture became stiff again, his shoulders drawn tight like he was bracing for something.

“You’re better off without him. Trust me on this.”

You felt your chest tighten as his words hung in the air, the tension between you thickening. A part of you was almost shocked that he’d go this far, but at the same time, you could sense that this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed a line like this.

His possessiveness, his obsession, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. 

You could feel it now, the weight of it pressing down on you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're worthless," you spat out, the words sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence. "I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours." Your voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelming weight of your emotions.

For a moment, Sol didn’t react. He just stood there, his back turned to you, staring off into the distance, the wind tousling his hair. But you could feel the shift in the air, the subtle way the space between you seemed to shrink like he was about to snap.

And then he turned to face you, his eyes darker than before, something almost predatory in his gaze. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently, but firmly, take hold of your wrist. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice low and almost dangerous, the words leaving a chill in the air. 

“You’re mine, Pumpkin. You just don’t know it yet.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a split second, you almost felt like you were suffocating, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the suffocating grip he had on your wrist. A part of you wanted to pull away, to fight, but another part of you—perhaps the one that was tired, exhausted from all the confusion and the constant pull between him and Geo—just wanted to be left alone.

But Sol wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“I told you not to see him.” His voice was soft, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you? You feel it, too. You can’t deny it, not with how you look at me.”

The words burned through you, and despite everything, you felt a sick sense of dread settle in your stomach. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling, trying to pull away from him. “You’re insane. You don’t own me. I’m not your fucking possession.”

Sol didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to make you wince, but there was something else in his eyes now—something dark, something that made your pulse race in a way you didn’t want it to. 

“You think I’m crazy?” he asked, his lips curling into a twisted smirk. “You have no idea, do you? I’d burn the world down just to keep you. And you want to play these games with him?” He stepped back for a moment as if letting the words sink in. 

“I thought I was so lucky you gave me a chance.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging between you, before he suddenly broke the fourth wall, his voice shifting slightly as if addressing something outside the moment, outside of reality itself.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” Sol’s voice was sharper now, more knowing, as if speaking directly to the reader, to the reality that existed beyond the world you were in. “Do you think you can make decisions like this without consequences? Without me getting involved?” His eyes gleamed with something unsettling. 

“You can’t run from me, not anymore.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst from the pressure building inside. The world around you seemed to warp and distort, the edges of reality blurring. 

You were lost—completely and utterly lost. 

You’d thought you understood what was happening, but now, with Sol so close, his words so charged with something dark and desperate, it was all unraveling in a way you couldn’t make sense of.

The way he looked at you, the way he gripped your wrist like it was his lifeline, it was suffocating. His gaze held something twisted, an obsession that felt too intense, too real. You’d always known there was something about Sol—something dangerous, something that made your stomach tighten with unease. But now it was clear. This wasn’t just a simple crush or playful teasing. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to be close.

No. Sol was obsessed.

And it scared you.

You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip was unyielding. The words on your lips were desperate, but they felt so small against the weight of his presence. “This isn’t right,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Sol didn’t respond immediately. He only stared at you, his eyes darkening, as if weighing your every word, your every movement. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “I need you. You can run from me, but I’ll always find you. I’ll always make you see.”

The words Sol had thrown at you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe. You felt paralyzed, trapped by the weight of his obsession and the raw, unhinged look in his eyes. 

Was this really happening? 

Was this the mess you’d walked into, too blind to see the signs before?

Your thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing together like a storm you couldn’t outrun. But before you could sort anything out, the air shifted. The tension in the room grew thicker, a new presence making itself known.

Geo.

He appeared in the doorway, his posture rigid, like he was ready to explode at any second. But it was his eyes that caught your attention, locking onto Sol with a cold, seething intensity that matched the storm brewing between them.

“You’re really fucking crazy, huh?” Geo’s voice was sharp, his words cutting through the charged silence. His gaze never left Sol, as if daring him to say something back.

You tried to back away, finally pulling your wrist free from Sol’s grasp, but your legs were weak, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. You couldn’t think straight. You needed space; you needed air. But there was no time to escape. Because Sol’s gaze never wavered, and Geo’s words had already ignited something in him.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” Sol growled, his voice low and dangerous. There was a flash of something—rage, maybe—crossing his features, and you knew in that instant that things were about to escalate. 

“You don’t get to come in here and play the hero.”

Geo didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more determined. “You’ve already crossed every line, Sol. Back off.”His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging underneath. “I won’t let you fuck with them any longer. Not like this.”

And just like that, it was like the dam had broken.

Sol lunged first, moving quickly, too quickly for you to process. He slammed into Geo with all his weight, pushing him against the nearby wall, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of their bodies colliding. Geo’s arm shot out, blocking the punch that Sol aimed for his face, and for a moment, they were locked in a brutal, silent struggle.

“Get the fuck off me,” Geo spat, trying to shove Sol away, but Sol was relentless, throwing punches with a viciousness that you didn’t know he had in him. The room felt like it was closing in around you, the sounds of their fight echoing in your ears as you stumbled backward, not sure whether to intervene or to run.

But you couldn’t move. Not now.

Sol was stronger than Geo in this moment, using the element of surprise and his sheer intensity to overpower him. Geo grunted as Sol’s fist connected with his ribs, but Geo wasn’t backing down either. He fought back with the same brutal force, each strike punctuated by curses and gritted teeth.

“You think you can just take them from me?” Sol snarled, his words slurring with anger. “I told you, they’re mine. I don’t care what you think, you don’t deserve them.”

“You don’t own them, Emo!” Geo shouted, his voice breaking with frustration. “Stop acting like you have some fucking right to control them. They’re their own person. You’re the one who needs to back the hell off.”

Geo’s fists collided with Sol with a brutal force that made your stomach churn. You watched in stunned silence as Geo moved with precision and anger, his strikes landing one after another. 

Sol, once so confident, was now crumpled on the floor, his face swollen and bruising almost immediately. A deep purple and blue marred his features, his lip split and his cheek reddened from the force of the blows. He tried to get up, and retaliate, but Geo’s rage was unstoppable. Sol was no match for him now, not when the fury in Geo’s eyes burned like a wildfire.

Geo didn’t even give him a moment to breathe. With each punch, the sound of their struggle echoed throughout the room. And when it was finally over, when Sol lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to move, Geo stood over him, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. His fists were bloodied, but his gaze never wavered from Sol, whose body remained limp on the floor, groaning in pain.

Geo didn’t seem to care.

After a long, tense pause, Geo finally backed away, his hands shaking but his expression cold and controlled. He didn’t say a word, just took one last look at Sol—who was too beaten to even raise his head—and turned toward the door. He walked out with a calmness that betrayed the chaos that had just unfolded. 

The fight had been fast, efficient, and brutal, and now it was over.

You stood there, frozen, trying to process the madness of the situation. The intensity of everything—Geo’s rage, Sol’s obsession, the violence—made your head spin. None of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t the outcome you imagined when you first started this twisted game. 

You just wanted to see how far it would go, how much each of them would fight for your attention, for your love, for whatever the hell it was they were after. 

You had no idea it would spiral into this.

Now, you were sitting in a private room at the police station, the air thick with tension. The officers sat across from you and Geo, their eyes focused on the both of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a jumbled mess. 

You didn’t know how to explain what had happened, how it all went wrong. It was too much. 

Too fast. 

You didn’t have the words.

The room was silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights above, the officers waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation. But you couldn’t give them that. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. 

The fact that it all started with some stupid game—a game to see which of the two would get jealous first—felt utterly ridiculous now. It was supposed to be harmless. You didn’t think it would turn into something this twisted.

But here you were, sitting next to Geo, whose face was unreadable. His expression was as cold and detached as ever, but you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, too. His knuckles were bruised, his chest rising and fell with each deep breath. He didn’t regret what he’d done, and part of you couldn’t blame him. 

Sol had crossed too many lines. 

But it didn’t make it any easier to process.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding the officers' eyes, your mind spiraling out of control. You wanted to say something, wanted to explain it all, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Everything felt so... out of place. 

The fight between Geo and Sol had been violent and unnecessary, yet somehow, it felt inevitable. 

This was what it had come to. 

You had pushed it, tested the boundaries, and now the damage was done.

The officers exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin. They had to know something, but you didn’t have the answers they were looking for. How could you? You didn’t know why things had gotten so out of hand. You didn’t know why Geo had beaten Sol like that, or why Sol had become so obsessed with you in the first place.

“Please,” one of the officers finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Can you tell us what happened here? What led up to this?”

You hated how weak you felt, how lost. You couldn’t explain it. You couldn’t even explain to yourself how you had allowed this to happen. You had set everything in motion, but now it was spiraling beyond your control. The moment you’d let your curiosity get the better of you—this was the result.

You just shook your head, the overwhelming sense of regret and guilt crushing you. You didn’t have the answers. 

And even if you did, they wouldn’t make this any easier to process.

Geo’s eyes remained fixed on you, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn't quite place. It wasn’t pity—at least, not the kind of pity that made you feel small—but it was something else. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. 

He was just... there.

When the officers started to ask more questions, Geo spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm as he interjected. "It's probably best if I take them back to their place. They need some space to clear their head. Once they’re ready, they’ll call you." His tone didn’t leave room for debate, his usual sharpness replaced by something quieter, more protective. 

"They don’t need to talk right now."

The officers exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. They nodded, acknowledging Geo’s request, and you could hear the soft scrape of the chair as one of them stood up. As you left the station, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on you like a flood. It was all too much.

You didn’t speak on the way back to your dorm. The car ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine, and every minute felt like it stretched on forever. You didn’t know what to say to Geo, didn’t know what to say to yourself.

You were lost—dazed, even. What had you done? What had they done? 

Everything had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even find the starting point anymore.

When the car finally pulled up to your building, you didn’t even wait for Geo to open the door. You got out quickly, the silence between you both louder than anything. You didn’t even feel like you had the energy to say goodbye. You just wanted to retreat, to disappear.

You made your way up to your studio apartment, the familiar surroundings almost too much. The kitchen passed in a blur as you shuffled into your small, cramped living space. You threw your bag on the floor with a dull thud before collapsing face-first onto your bed. You didn’t even bother pulling the covers over you. You just lay there, unmoving.

eo stood in the doorway, watching you. The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn’t approach. He knew better than that. There was something almost resigned in the way he stood, his hands in his pockets as he regarded you.

"I ordered food for you," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had settled between you. "You don’t have to leave. If you’re scared, you don’t need to go anywhere."

You didn’t respond. 

The weight of everything felt like it was suffocating you, and you didn’t have the words to explain it—not to him, not to anyone. You felt stuck like the ground beneath you had turned to quicksand. The guilt gnawed at you, but the numbness in your chest was worse. You wanted to feel something—anything—but all you could muster was a hollow emptiness that made your heartache.

You heard Geo’s quiet footsteps echo in the room as he carefully took off his shoes and placed them by the door. It was such a small thing, but the gesture felt oddly intimate like he was respecting some unspoken boundary. 

He stood there for a moment, looking at you, before he made his way over to the edge of your bed. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort, as he knelt in front of you, his back straight and his posture solid.

You clutched the pillow tighter, a weak shield against the confusion that was swirling inside your head. You didn’t know what you needed right now. You didn’t know if you wanted him to say something, or if you just needed the silence. You wanted so badly to scream at the chaos in your life, but the exhaustion had drained all the energy from your body.

Geo glanced down at your bed, then back at you, a slight frown pulling at his features. “I don’t want to sit on your bed,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I’ve been outside. You shouldn’t be either.”

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit you.

The idea of Geo being so considerate after everything that had happened between you two made something inside you crack. You let out a small laugh, a soft chuckle that bubbled up from nowhere as the tension in your chest finally found a way to escape. 

Geo froze, his brow furrowing in surprise as he processed the sound. “What...?” His voice trailed off, confused. He hadn’t expected it, clearly.

You shook your head, trying to stifle another laugh. “It’s just... you’re so serious sometimes,” you muttered, shaking your head again, trying to collect yourself. “Like, we’re in the middle of all this... shit, and you’re worried about sitting on my bed? It’s just funny.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, the question heavy with something more than just casual curiosity. He wasn’t asking to pry—he was asking. After all, he cared because he wanted to know if you were all right, even though everything around you was in pieces.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you tried to push past the numbness, to find the words that would make sense of the chaos inside you. It wasn’t easy. You felt like you were wading through a thick fog, unable to see the shore, unable to find your way out.

You didn’t know what to say. 

You didn’t even know what you wanted anymore.

“I don’t know anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as the weight of everything hit you all at once. 

Geo sighed, and he stayed where he was, kneeling in front of you. He just watched you, waiting for you to find the words, letting you process everything at your own pace. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, but somehow it was comforting. 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the bed, clutching the pillow in your arms like it could somehow anchor you to the present. You felt the weight of the words building up inside you, a flood of confession that had been lying dormant, ready to pour out, and it was as if you couldn't hold it back anymore.

“I don’t know when it all got so messy," you began, your voice unsteady, the words tumbling out in a rush like you were trying to explain something to yourself as much as to him. “It all started because… I wanted to see who was more jealous, you or Sol. It was stupid, I know. I thought I could handle it, keep it all under control. I thought I could play this game and walk away without getting caught up in it.”

You paused for a second, feeling your pulse quicken as you tried to make sense of everything, but the more you spoke, the harder it became to breathe. The confession felt like it was suffocating you, but you couldn’t stop.

“You know how it is. Just a stupid game. I thought I could just sit back, watch the both of you get all worked up, and have a laugh. But it... It didn’t go the way I expected. I didn’t expect to care. Not about him—not about Sol, I mean. And sure as hell not about you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you glanced at Geo, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say. But the confusion, the mess in your head, only seemed to spill out more the longer you spoke.

"I was trying to keep control. You know, like always. But the more I played this game—god, the more it twisted everything around. I started getting feelings. First, it was just... Sol, and I thought I could push it aside. But then... it was you."

You stopped, your voice faltering. “I didn’t think I could get feelings for you, not after everything. You’ve got your own shit going on, and so do I, but here I am. And I’m not sure who’s worse. Me, for getting this deep, or you for dealing with me through all of it.”

Geo didn’t interrupt, though you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a moment before he relaxed them. His eyes were on you, unwavering, and it only made the confession feel like it was digging a hole deeper inside your chest.

"You can judge me for it. I don’t blame you if you do." The words came out bitter, almost accusing, like you were daring him to reject you, to call you out for being weak. "I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Geo. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel. This whole thing was supposed to be a game, a stupid little test to see who cared more, but here I am—lost. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed down the question clawing its way up. But eventually, the words spilled out before you could stop them.  

“Do you… do you hate me?”  

For a moment, there was only silence. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.  

You didn’t look at him—couldn’t. You were too afraid of what you’d see in his face. Fear? Disgust? Or something worse?  

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flickered away, shifting toward the floor, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice. He wasn’t one to hesitate, wasn’t one to falter, and yet, here he was—pausing.  

The silence stretched, each second pulling at your nerves like frayed threads.  

Then, finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, before looking back at you. His expression wasn’t cold, but there was something guarded about it, something that made your chest ache.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “If you’re asking whether I’m pissed? Yeah. If you’re asking if I regret meeting you? No.”  

Your breath caught, hands gripping the fabric of your blanket a little tighter.  

“But hating you?” He shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I couldn’t even if I tried.”  

Something in you wavered.  

He shifted beside you again, the weight of his presence steady, grounding. And despite everything—the chaos, the mistakes, the games you played—you found yourself leaning just a little closer.  

Your lips parted, the question forming before you could stop it. “Then...”  

He hummed, his gaze steady on you.  

“Do you… like me?” The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, before you could convince yourself to let it go. You already felt exposed enough, but if you were drowning, you weren’t going to do it alone.  

Geo didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. That careful mask of his wavered just for a fraction of a second. Then, like clockwork, he slightly smirked—shocking…

“I like a lot of things,” he said smoothly, stretching his arms above his head, his voice full of deflection. “My time. Plants...”  

You narrowed your eyes, not amused. “Geo.”  

He sighed through his nose, gaze flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto you. “And maybe you talk too much.”  

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “That’s not an answer.”  

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”  

You stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He was doing this on purpose, keeping things just vague enough to avoid saying anything real. You wanted to pry it out of him, force him to admit it, but at the same time…  

Geo wasn’t the kind of person you could force anything out of. He’d say what he wanted when he wanted. That was just who he was.  

You let out a sigh, something between acceptance and resignation. “Fine. Be stubborn.” You turned your body slightly, facing him fully. “But I don’t need to hear it. I already know.”  

Then, before he could react, you jumped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close in a tight embrace. Geo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, holding you steady, his warmth grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected.  

Then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.  

It was quick at first, just a light brush of your lips against his, testing the waters. But the second you felt him respond, his lips pressing against yours just as gently, something inside you caved.  

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, neither of you rushing, just feeling. His hands stayed light on your waist, not pulling, not taking—just holding. Like he was afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking you.  

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Geo’s breath hitched slightly before he tilted his head, his lips moving against yours with more certainty now, but never rough, never greedy.  

It was nothing like the game you had been playing before—nothing like what had happened with Sol. This wasn’t about control, about jealousy, about winning. 

It was just real.  

You pulled away first, your forehead resting against his, your breathing slightly uneven. Geo’s hands were still resting on your waist, his thumbs absently brushing against the fabric of your shirt.  

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the room feeling quieter than it had before.  

Then, suddenly, Geo pulled back, reaching into his pocket and checking his phone. He sighed dramatically. “Well, that was good timing.”  

You blinked, still dazed. “What?”  

He held up his phone, showing you the screen. “Food’s here.”  

You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”  

“Dead serious.” He stood up, stretching before glancing down at you. “Unless you wanna keep making out and let the delivery guy starve outside.”  

You rolled your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips despite everything. “Go get the damn food, Geo.”  

He gave you one last look—something soft, unreadable—before turning toward the door. And even as he left, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.  

For once, you weren’t overthinking; he's yours.

[aethtalon]

Okay, I'm kinda fixated on this scene right now. DS9 is my fav Star Trek series and I've seen the most of it out of any Trek, but not all. (Plus it has been at least 4 years since I last watched any DS9.) And this post is definitely my first time seeing this scene. I'm not sure my analysis is correct, but I'm gonna throw it out there along with pointing out the building blocks so that it's

A) understandable to non-trekkies

And

B) easily able to be refuted if I get shit wrong.

So. The two focus characters are Odo (the one who is declared to look different. He's a shapeshifter, technically his base form is an amorphous puddle and this is the form he uses to interact with everyone else. He's the constable of the space station on which this is taking place.) and Quark (the one who gets kissed on the forehead. He's a Ferengi, which is species with a heavily capitalistic culture. I believe it's stated more than once that a Ferengi would sell their own mother for enough 'gold plated latinum'. He owns and runs the bar they're currently in and is also a smuggler that Odo has yet to truly pin legally. Most of the time if there's shady shit happening on the station, he has a hand in it.) Both Quark and Odo are generally viewed as protagonists within the series.

Other significant characters involved in this scene are Sisko and Dax. Benjamin Sisko is the man in the red and black outfit taking immense glee in the scene. I can't recall if his official title is Captain or not, but he is the head starfleet administarator on this space station.

Dax is a little harder to explain. One of the other protagonists of the series is Jadzia Dax. Her species is called Trill and she's part of the Starfleet staff of the station as science officer. One of the significant notes about the Trill is that after a rigorous selection process, some few are allowed to undergo a surgery to join with a symbiont. These symbionts are incredibly long lived and can have multiple hosts within their lifetime. Jadzia the Trill is symbiont Dax's 8th host. The symbionts carry each host's memories and skills with them throughout their life.

This all is significant because, between the changes in Odo's appearance (fuller and more colorful hair than usual as well as the brown stippling/freckles in the hairline) as well as a previous commenter's mention of Curzon (Dax's 7th host) I suspect that either

A) Odo is temporarily hosting Dax for some reason

Or less likely (but it is star trek)

B) Odo is somehow currently fused with Curzon Dax even though Curzon was already dead when the series began?

(If either of these are the case, I think Odo's full name in this scene would be Odo Dax or Odo Curzon Dax or some such, but for simplicity I will continue referring to him as Odo)

Now then, one of the things I find really significant here is that Odo grabs Quark by his lobes (the large outer part of his ears) in order to manhandle him. A male Ferengi's lobes have cultural significance that I won't get into. But! They're also incredibly sensitive and it is implied if not outright stated that there's a sexual implication to touching them, so probably an erogonous zone.

Which means that to me, this scene reads roughly as your 'will they won't they, love to hate them' frenemy walking up to you and publicly, *in the business you own*, grabbing you by the crotch to pull you in for a forehead kiss followed up by seductively declaring "I love how you defy me. Get me a drink."

Which really puts Quark's reaction in perspective.

Many things going on here

1. Quark asking "what happened to your face???" with the most genuine concern I think he's shown anyone ever

2. How Curzon's influence gives Odo the confidence to do things he wouldn't do otherwise and apparently one of these things was to kiss Quark

3. The way you can visibly see Quark's brain blue screening behind his eyes after getting smooched

4. The pitiful and palpably submissive "ahh" he squeaks out before walking right into a wall

5. Sisko's immense glee watching this entire thing unfold

[winterlico]

PAWS & PROMISES ᰔ sim jaeyun .ᐟ

ᯓ★ pairing : college!Jake x fem!reader / fluff , teasing , Jake doesn't have a dog , soft , first date ᝰ.ᐟ

9.9O6 ｡ when Jake, a college student, stumbles into an animal shelter to escape boredom, he unexpectedly finds not just a passion for volunteering, but a deep connection with you.

feedbacks ୨୧ reblogs / 사랑 ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re wiping down a row of kennels, the soft clinks of your cleaning supplies filling the quiet room. The shelter is peaceful today, save for the occasional shuffle of paws against the floor or the faint mew of a kitten in the back. It’s a typical Tuesday, but today something feels a little different. You don’t know why yet, but as you finish up with the last kennel and move to the next one, a light breeze drifts in through the cracked window, and you catch a glimpse of a figure passing by outside.

A guy, probably in his early twenties, strolling leisurely down the street. He’s wearing a simple hoodie, dark jeans, and some worn sneakers, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Nothing too remarkable about his outfit, but there’s something about the way he walks—easy, confident, like he’s got nowhere to be, no rush at all. And then, like a switch, you see it. He stops. Looks up at the shelter. Then he hesitates.

That hesitation doesn’t last long. He’s already making his way towards the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.

You look up as he enters, offering a quick, friendly smile. "Hi! Can I help you with something?"

He freezes at the sound of your voice, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, he looks like he's considering an escape route, but something in the air keeps him rooted to the spot. He scratches the back of his neck nervously, then glances around the shelter. "Uh, yeah, I was just, uh, walking by, and I saw the sign..."

He trails off, his words coming a little awkwardly, and it only makes him seem more endearing. He shifts on his feet, finally meeting your gaze. "I... I love animals. I thought I’d stop by."

His voice, though soft, has a sincerity to it, and the more he talks, the more his nervous energy becomes apparent. You can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s a slight tremble in his hands as they move from his pockets. His eyes flicker briefly to the puppies resting in their cages. “I... uh, I’ve never been to a shelter before, actually.”

You can’t help but chuckle softly. “Well, you’re in the right place. It’s kind of hard not to love them. Are you looking to adopt?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, and he flounders for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "I... uh, not exactly. I just wanted to see them," he admits with a small shrug, his gaze softening as he looks at the animals again. "I’m not sure I’m ready for a pet yet. But, um... yeah, I just wanted to stop by. See what it’s all about."

His shyness is becoming almost palpable now, but there's something charming about it. You nod, guiding him a little closer to one of the cages where a small puppy is playfully wagging its tail. “This little guy’s got a lot of energy, if you want to say hi.”

Jake steps closer, a little hesitant at first, but the moment the puppy spots him, it leaps up to the bars of the cage, eager to greet him. Jake’s eyes widen, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he crouches down to get a better look at the dog. The little pup’s excitement seems to calm Jake’s nerves, and he lets out a soft laugh, his hand hovering near the cage bars, unsure if he should touch the puppy.

“I’ve never had a dog before,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a little vulnerability. “I always thought I’d be a terrible pet owner.”

You observe him carefully, noting the way he carefully studies the dog. It’s clear he doesn’t want to come off as clumsy or unprepared, but it’s also obvious he’s truly interested. “Well, nobody’s perfect,” you reply with a smile, leaning against the counter. “It’s all about patience. And a little bit of love.”

Jake’s eyes flicker to you, as though surprised by how natural your words feel, and for a moment, the nervousness fades completely from his face. “I think I could do that,” he murmurs, still watching the puppy. “I mean, I’d want to. I just don’t know if I’m ready to take care of one yet.”

You can’t help but feel a little amused, a little warm inside, as you watch his hesitance slowly dissolve into something more comfortable. “That’s totally fine. It’s not about being perfect from the start. If you want to come back and hang out with the animals, we’d love to have you.”

Jake’s face brightens, and he stands up from his crouched position, his eyes still glancing between you and the dog. He hesitates again, this time looking down at the floor before lifting his gaze back up to you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “I could come back? And, uh... maybe I could bring some treats for the pups next time? I mean, if that’s okay?”

You grin, finding his shy enthusiasm utterly endearing. “Of course, you can. The animals would love that.”

He looks almost relieved, his tension easing the more you talk. “Okay, cool. I’ll, uh... I’ll definitely come back then.” Then, he offers a slight, bashful smile, rubbing the back of his neck again like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “By the way... I’m Jake. I didn’t even introduce myself. Sorry about that.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “No problem, Jake. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jake’s smile widens at your response, and as he steps back toward the door, he gives you one last look, almost like he’s not sure when he’ll be back, but he’s definitely coming. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, be around soon. Promise.”

And with that, he leaves, the door closing softly behind him. You find yourself standing there, a small smile playing at your lips as you watch him walk away, the shy, nervous guy who just might become a regular around here. And strangely, that thought makes your heart beat a little faster.

It’s not every day that someone like Jake stumbles into your shelter.

The following week, you’re standing by the front desk when you hear the familiar sound of the doorbell chime. You turn, expecting to see the usual shelter visitors—families, curious locals—but what catches your attention this time is the group of three young men stepping into the room.

Jake’s there, of course. His hoodie is the same, but there’s a more noticeable confidence in the way he holds himself today. But what makes you pause is the two guys flanking him—one with sleek dark hair and the other with a slightly messier style, their presence so casual, yet purposeful. They both glance around with interest, taking in the surroundings, but it’s clear they’re not just here for the animals.

“Hey, princess,” Jake greets you first, his voice a bit more confident today, though you notice the way his gaze flickers to his friends, who are clearly waiting for him to say something more.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him, but before you can respond, one of the guys—Jay, you recognize him now from his previous description—steps forward with a smirk. “We’re guessing you’re the reason Jake’s been talking about this place nonstop,” Jay says, crossing his arms and looking you over with a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckle softly, shifting your attention to the newcomer. “Oh? Jake’s been talking about the shelter?” you ask, keeping your tone light and teasing, glancing at Jake who, predictably, looks a little sheepish at the attention.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon, the one with the slick dark hair, chimes in, his voice smooth but with a hint of amusement. “And apparently he’s got a soft spot for dogs now. Says he’s been spending his free time here.” He glances at Jake with a grin, then back at you. “We were curious. Figured we’d check it out.”

Jake’s face flushes a soft pink, and he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I might’ve... mentioned you a few times," he mutters, his voice growing softer the more he speaks. “And the shelter.” He looks at his friends with a slight frown, his ears turning red as if embarrassed by the fact that they’re all here, following him into this space.

You can't help but laugh quietly, watching him squirm just a little. “Well, I’m glad you brought them along, Jake.” You shoot him a playful wink, then turn to the other two. “And it’s nice to meet you both—Jay, Sunghoon, right?”

Jay gives you a nod, stepping forward to shake your hand. “Yeah, that’s us,” he says smoothly, his eyes lingering just a little too long on you, making you wonder if Jake’s been telling them more than just stories about the animals. His gaze flickers briefly to Jake, and you catch the hint of a teasing smile forming on Jay’s lips.

Sunghoon steps up next, his smile easygoing and warm. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

The way his words seem to linger in the air makes you wonder just how much Jake has shared, but before you can ask, Jake steps in, shifting on his feet nervously. “Okay, okay, you guys don’t need to embarrass me,” he mutters, his face still flushed as he glances between his friends. “We came here to, um... look at the animals, right?”

You chuckle at Jake’s discomfort, but there’s something about it that’s endearing. The fact that his friends are here because of him—it’s like he’s giving you a glimpse into a side of him that’s softer, maybe even a little more vulnerable.

“Well,” you say, “we’ve got a few puppies up for adoption right now. And a couple of cats if you’re more of a cat person.” You motion for them to follow you as you lead them toward the back of the shelter where the dogs are housed.

As you walk, Jake falls in line beside you, his friends trailing behind, their curious glances flickering toward him as if they’re waiting for him to say something. But Jake is oddly quiet, his usual playful self a little more subdued today. He keeps glancing at you, and every time you catch his eye, his cheeks flush a little deeper.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were so into animals, Jake,” Sunghoon teases from behind, his voice light, almost as if he’s enjoying seeing Jake in this new light.

Jake groans softly, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice. “Stop it, Sunghoon. I told you, I’m just here to see the animals. That’s all.” He rubs the back of his neck again, like the simple motion could somehow erase the fact that his friends know a little too much about him.

You smile to yourself, finding his nervousness oddly endearing. It’s clear he’s not used to being the center of attention like this, especially not when it involves you. But as the group reaches the first kennel, where a small puppy is playing around, Jake’s expression brightens, and he almost forgets his discomfort as he crouches down to get a closer look.

“There you go, that’s more like it,” Jay comments with a knowing grin, watching Jake interact with the puppy. “I think you might be falling for them, huh?”

Jake doesn’t respond immediately, too focused on the playful dog that’s now licking his hand, but after a few seconds, he finally looks up, his face still flushed but his eyes softer. “Maybe,” he admits, his voice quiet. Then, turning to you, he says, “This little guy’s... kind of perfect, isn’t he?”

You nod, heart warming at the sight of Jake so relaxed, surrounded by the animals he’s been telling his friends about. “He really is.”

As you continue the tour, you can feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere—Jake, now more comfortable with his friends around, still seems a little more focused on you than before. He occasionally glances your way, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever you catch his eye. His friends, meanwhile, are more than happy to watch the interaction unfold, a mix of curiosity and amusement in their gazes.

By the time the tour wraps up and you’re all heading toward the door, Jake’s demeanor is back to his usual playful self, though there’s still that slight hesitation when he looks at you. Before he leaves, he gives you a shy smile, his voice quiet but filled with a newfound confidence. “I’ll... I’ll be back, for sure. And I’ll bring more treats next time. For the dogs... and, uh, for you, too, if you want.”

You laugh softly, feeling the light flutter in your chest at his words. “Sounds good, Jake. I’ll be here.”

As the door closes behind them, you’re left with a lingering sense of warmth in your chest. You’ve just met his friends, but it’s clear that Jake’s started something here—not just with the animals, but with you, too.

And as for Jake? Well, it seems like he’s not just talking about the shelter anymore.

The late afternoon sun casts a golden hue over the shelter as you finish organizing a few adoption forms at the front desk. The day has been relatively quiet, save for a couple of visitors earlier, but for the most part, it’s just you, the animals, and the steady hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

Then, the doorbell chimes.

You glance up, already expecting a visitor, but what you don’t expect is him.

Jake strides in, his movements fluid and purposeful, a stark contrast to the nervous, fidgety boy who had first stumbled through the doors a week ago. There’s no hesitance in the way he enters this time—no awkward pauses, no stammering greetings. He spots you immediately, a slow grin tugging at his lips, and something about the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch for half a second.

"Hey, princess," he greets smoothly, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he stops in front of the counter. "Miss me?"

You raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the way your heart flutters at his sudden confidence. This is new. "Oh? You actually came back alone this time," you tease, crossing your arms. "What, your bodyguards didn’t want to tag along today?"

Jake chuckles, leaning against the counter with an easy smirk. "Nah, they wanted to, but I figured they were getting in the way last time." He tilts his head slightly, gaze unwavering as he looks at you. "I thought today, it should just be me and you."

You blink. The smoothness in his voice, the lack of hesitation—it throws you off in the best way possible. This is not the same Jake who stumbled over his words and avoided eye contact.

You clear your throat, deciding not to let him have too much control of the conversation. "Oh? And here I thought you were coming for the animals, not me," you muse, feigning innocence as you turn to grab a treat bag from the counter.

Jake exhales a quiet laugh, tilting his head slightly, and it’s almost unfair how good he looks with that knowing glint in his eyes. "I mean, yeah," he says, shrugging, "but who says I can’t enjoy both?"

Your fingers pause slightly over the treat bag before you shake your head with an amused chuckle. This guy. "Alright, smooth talker. What’s the plan today? Here to volunteer, or just visiting?"

He watches you carefully before pushing himself off the counter. "A little of both," he admits. "I figured since I keep showing up here, I might as well make myself useful. Thought I could help out—cleaning, walking the dogs, whatever you need."

Your lips part slightly in surprise, not expecting him to go that far. Most visitors—especially ones who weren't officially signed up—usually didn’t offer to help. They just came to look around, play with the animals, and leave. But Jake? He’s standing there, waiting for you to give him something to do, and the sincerity in his voice makes your stomach flip.

"You're serious?" you ask, studying him.

Jake nods. "Dead serious. Put me to work, princess."

You roll your eyes at the nickname but can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if you’re volunteering, I’m treating you like any other worker here," you warn, tossing him the bag of dog treats. "No special treatment just because you’re cute."

Jake catches the bag effortlessly, but instead of reacting to the comment like you expected—flushed cheeks, maybe a flustered laugh—he only smirks. Steps closer. Leans in just enough to make your breath catch.

"So you think I’m cute?"

You realize your mistake immediately.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out, and that’s when you know—this is Jake’s revenge for all the times you teased him before. He’s enjoying this.

You recover quickly, squinting at him in mock suspicion. "I said no special treatment."

"Mmm." He hums, stepping back just a little, his smirk still in place. "Right. Got it."

You exhale, shaking your head as you motion for him to follow you to the back where the dogs are. He’s different today—still playful, still teasing, but not shy anymore. And while that should make things easier, it only makes your heart race faster because now you are the one slightly off balance.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of Jake helping out in ways you didn’t expect. He actually works—cleaning up kennels, helping organize supplies, even taking a couple of the bigger dogs out for walks. And the worst (or best) part? He’s good at it. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t mess around too much—just focuses on the tasks, flashing you confident smiles every time you pass by.

At one point, he’s kneeling down, playing with a golden retriever puppy who’s rolling on its back, paws flailing excitedly as Jake rubs its belly. You’re watching from a distance, arms crossed, and just watching him interact with the animals makes something warm settle in your chest.

Jake notices your stare, and instead of getting shy like before, he grins up at you. "Like what you see?"

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh. "A little."

He lets out a dramatic gasp. "Wow. That’s it? After all my hard work?"

"Okay, a lot," you relent, rolling your eyes. "But don’t let it get to your head."

Jake chuckles, standing up and dusting off his jeans. "Too late."

By the time he’s getting ready to leave, the sky has darkened into a soft orange hue. He lingers near the door, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels as if debating something.

Finally, he looks at you, his voice softer than before. "I really like it here, y’know."

You tilt your head. "The shelter?"

Jake’s lips twitch, and for the first time today, his confidence falters just a little. "Yeah," he says, eyes flickering to you briefly before looking away. "And... y’know. Everything else."

Your heart stutters. But before you can respond, he flashes you one last teasing smile, reaching for the door handle.

"See you next time, princess."

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heartbeat way too fast, already waiting for the next time he walks through that door.

The shelter feels quieter now, the evening settling in with the last few rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. The hum of the fan, the soft shuffle of paws against the floor—everything seems more peaceful. But you’re not as calm as you usually are. You keep replaying Jake’s words in your head: “And… y’know. Everything else.”

You hadn’t expected that. At all. And it’s been gnawing at you since he left, his lingering words hanging in the air. You’re not sure what to make of it, but you can’t deny the flutter that still dances in your chest.

The bell above the door rings again, pulling you out of your thoughts, and there he is. Jake, once again, but this time, something about the way he stands at the entrance makes your heart skip. He’s not rushing in with his usual flustered energy; no, this time, he’s calm—confident. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit... nervous?

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at him. "Back so soon?" you ask, trying to mask the way your pulse picks up. “Didn’t expect to see you today."

Jake steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before locking onto you. The smile on his face is softer than before, but it’s no less genuine.

“I thought about it,” he begins, his voice steady, but with an undercurrent of something... deeper. “And I realized, I kinda like it here. More than I thought I would.” His gaze softens as it holds yours. “I also like spending time with you. You know, without the group around.”

Your stomach does a little flip. "Oh? You’re trying to keep me all to yourself now?"

Jake chuckles, taking a step closer to you. “Maybe,” he admits, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But only if you’re up for it.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling, but you hide it behind your arm as you pretend to organize the adoption forms again. “I’ll let you know if I ever get desperate enough to spend time with a guy who thinks he’s smooth,” you tease.

Jake’s grin only widens. “I think you’re more into it than you let on.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Am I now?"

"Definitely," he says confidently, walking closer until there’s only a small space between you two. He drops his voice slightly, eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. "Come on, princess. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You can’t fool me.”

You swallow, trying to keep your composure, but his teasing tone, that confident air about him, it’s different from before—different in a way that makes everything feel a little more... real.

“I don’t know, Jake,” you reply, letting the silence drag out for a moment. "I think you’re the one doing the fooling here."

He laughs softly, stepping even closer, and now you can feel the warmth radiating off him, the small distance between you two suddenly a thing of the past. “I’m serious,” he says, his voice low, a little breathless. “I really do like it here. I like hanging out with you. But, uh... I don’t know if I’m ready for the whole ‘smooth talk’ thing just yet.”

You meet his eyes, and for the first time, you see that flicker of vulnerability in them. It’s not the confident, teasing Jake you’ve gotten used to—it’s the real Jake, the one who’s still figuring things out. And, honestly, it’s endearing. You can’t help but smile softly.

“You don’t have to be all smooth, you know,” you say, your voice quieter than before. “I mean, I think you're already doing just fine."

He blinks at you for a moment, almost as if the words have thrown him off guard. “Really?” he asks, a small grin tugging at his lips again. “I guess I can be myself, huh?”

You nod, your heart fluttering in a way you can’t quite explain. “You’ve been yourself this whole time, Jake. Just... maybe stop pretending like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He takes a slow step forward, a smile creeping onto his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it all figured out. But I’m getting there.” His eyes soften, voice lowering as he speaks. “And I’d really like to get to know you better... without the jokes and the teasing. Just you and me. If that’s okay?”

You pause, your chest tightening with the warmth of his sincerity. It’s not as playful as before—there’s no bravado or games in his words. Just raw honesty, and it takes you off guard in the best way possible.

“Okay,” you say, your voice steady even though your heart’s racing. “I’d like that too.”

Jake grins, his usual teasing smile returning. "I’ll take that as a win, princess."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension between you both thick, but comfortable. It’s different from before. This time, there’s no rush—no uncertainty—just the two of you, finally stepping out from behind all the teasing and jokes, and into something more real.

“So,” Jake finally says, breaking the silence, his voice still light, “what’s next? You want me to clean out more pens, or can we take a break?”

You smile, your heart still fluttering, but it’s not the teasing that has you smiling—it’s the way he looks at you now. The way his confidence is matched with a genuine warmth.

“Let’s take a break,” you say, crossing your arms with a grin. “But you’re buying coffee.”

Jake chuckles, nodding easily. “Anything for you, princess. Lead the way.”

As the two of you head out of the shelter, the warm afternoon sun beginning to dip below the horizon, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve both found something more than just a passing connection. And as Jake walks beside you, his smile soft and his confidence steady, you can’t help but feel like this is only the beginning.

The walk to the café is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The usual bustling street is quieter than normal, the evening air crisp with the promise of nightfall. The soft hum of traffic and distant chatter fade into the background as you walk side by side with Jake. He keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s still processing the shift in energy between the two of you, and you can’t help but smile every time you catch him doing it. He looks so... genuine tonight, like all the teasing and nervous energy he usually carries has melted away.

"So, uh," Jake starts, breaking the silence after a few steps. "You really like working at the shelter, huh?"

You nod, glancing at him as you continue walking. "Yeah. It’s not just the animals, though. It’s... the feeling that you’re doing something real, you know? Something that actually matters. Helping those little guys find their homes, giving them a second chance..." You trail off, realizing you're getting a little too sentimental. But you can’t help it. It's something you’re passionate about. "It just feels good."

Jake listens intently, his gaze softening as he takes in your words. "I can tell," he says quietly. "You really care. It’s kind of... amazing, actually."

You glance at him in surprise. “You think so?”

"Yeah." He shrugs, looking almost bashful. "I mean, I’ve seen you work with them, and you’re so patient and kind. It’s like... you’re not just a volunteer. You’re part of the whole thing. You make it better." He pauses, then adds with a sheepish grin, "I guess I’m a little jealous."

You stop walking for a moment, taken aback by his sincerity. "Jake, that's... that's really sweet of you to say."

He rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed by his own words. "Well, you are pretty amazing, so... I mean it." He looks down, his gaze focused on his shoes for a second before his eyes lift back to yours, as though searching for something in your face. "I’m glad I get to see it firsthand. Glad I get to be around... you."

Your heart skips a beat, and you try to mask it with a teasing smile. “You’re making me blush, Jake."

Jake laughs, a soft, warm sound that fills the air between you. “I’m serious though. I’m not just saying it to be nice.” He pauses, then adds more softly, “It’s... different when you actually see someone care about what they’re doing. Makes me want to try harder with the stuff I do, too."

You can feel the sincerity in his words, and it's not lost on you. There’s a tenderness there—something deeper than his usual teasing tone. It makes your heart ache in the best way possible, and you’re unsure of what to do with this feeling that’s quickly bubbling up inside you.

The two of you reach the café, a small cozy place nestled between other shops with a faded wooden sign that reads, “Café Lumière.” The warm golden glow of the lights spilling from the windows is inviting, and the chatter from inside offers the promise of a peaceful atmosphere. Jake opens the door for you, and you step inside first, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed coffee instantly wrapping around you.

After a quick look around, you both head up to the counter, where an older woman with a bright smile greets you.

"Good evening!" she says, her eyes twinkling. "What can I get for you two today?"

Jake steps forward before you can say anything, his voice confident, but still with that underlying warmth. "Two iced lattes, please. With extra caramel." He turns to you with a playful grin. "You like caramel, right?"

You chuckle, nodding. "I do. I’m not that difficult, Jake."

He winks at you before turning back to the barista. "One caramel latte for me too. And maybe something sweet, if you’ve got it?"

The barista laughs and nods. "We’ve got a selection of pastries today. How about a chocolate croissant?"

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Perfect.”

After placing the order, you both take a seat by the window, the soft glow of the café's lights casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around the two of you. The table is small, just big enough for two lattes and a pastry, but it feels like the perfect size, like it’s just the right space for you both to be.

Jake’s eyes linger on you as you pick up your latte, his gaze soft but curious. “So, what’s your story? I mean, aside from the shelter stuff. What do you like to do when you’re not working there?”

You take a sip of your drink, the sweet, creamy caramel warming you up inside. “Hmm... when I’m not at the shelter, I usually just hang out at home or with my friends. Pretty boring stuff, honestly.” You smile, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “But I’ve been getting into reading a lot lately. I don’t really have a favorite genre, but I like books that make you think. You know?”

Jake nods thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving you. “I get that. I like reading too, though mostly about random stuff. Sometimes I get so into something and then I forget about it, you know? Like right now, I’m into cooking. Don’t laugh," he says with a mock serious tone. "But I’ve been trying to make the perfect pasta."

You can’t help but laugh, leaning forward slightly. “Pasta? Really? You?”

Jake raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “What? I’m a man of many talents.”

You chuckle again, shaking your head. “I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

Jake’s grin widens, his usual teasing energy returning. “I’ll make you a deal then. If I cook you the perfect pasta, you have to come over and try it. Deal?”

You raise your own eyebrow, trying to keep your voice light. “What if it’s terrible?”

Jake shrugs nonchalantly. “Then you can say I tried, and at least I won’t be able to get too cocky. But you have to try it, no matter what.”

You can’t help but smile, the playful banter feeling so natural. There’s an undeniable warmth in the way he speaks to you, the easy way his words flow as if you’ve known each other far longer than you really have. It’s the kind of feeling you don’t want to let go of—this new dynamic between the two of you.

“Alright,” you agree, your tone matching his lightheartedness. “I’ll hold you to that. But only if you make me the perfect latte first.”

Jake leans back in his chair, a victorious grin spreading across his face. “Deal.”

And just like that, you both settle into a comfortable rhythm, the easy banter continuing, the conversation flowing naturally as if this was exactly where you were meant to be. No awkward silences, no rushing—it’s just you and Jake, enjoying the simple things, the little moments.

As the night stretches on, you realize something. It’s not just about the shelter, or the coffee, or the small promises made between sips. It’s the way Jake makes you feel like everything is exactly as it should be. And maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to realize that you might have found something you weren’t expecting tonight.

The air has cooled even more as you and Jake step out of the café, the remnants of laughter still hanging in the air. You both walk back down the street, the quiet evening now wrapping around you like a soft blanket. There's something comforting about the calmness between you two, no rush, no expectations—just the gentle sound of footsteps as you stroll back to the shelter.

"That was nice," Jake says casually, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His tone is easy, but his eyes are brighter, more relaxed than before. "You’re not so bad at this whole hanging-out thing, y’know."

You glance at him, teasing a little. “I thought I was the one supposed to be ‘not so bad.’ Guess I’m getting the hang of it, huh?”

Jake chuckles. “Yeah, guess so.” He nudges you playfully. “But really, it’s easy to get along with you. I’ve always liked being around you.”

The way he says it is so casual, like it’s a given, but it stirs something deep in your chest. You blink, trying to hide the flutter you feel. “Well, same here. You’re not so annoying after all.”

Jake laughs, and it feels like the night is just a little warmer, just a little more special because of the way he’s looking at you.

The shelter comes into view again, and the familiar hum of the building wraps around you, drawing you back into the routine of your work. You push the door open, and the warm, comforting scent of animals, cleaning supplies, and the general bustle of the place greets you. There’s still some cleaning to do, some paperwork to file, and the cages to lock up for the night. The shelter’s duties don’t stop when the clock strikes closing time, but tonight, there’s something a little lighter about it. Maybe it’s the company, or maybe it’s the way Jake’s been looking at you, his usual teasing tone mixed with something a little softer.

Jake follows you inside, more comfortable than before, less of the nervous energy that used to cling to him. He slips his jacket off and places it over the back of one of the chairs in the lobby, looking over the room like he’s ready to dive into whatever work needs doing. He’s serious now, like he’s got a purpose here, and it’s all about being with you.

“Want some help with anything?” he asks, his voice firm with the confidence he’s been showing more of lately.

You turn to him, surprised. “You wanna help me with the chores?”

“Sure,” Jake replies with a grin. “I’m here. Might as well make myself useful.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t argue, nodding. “Alright then. Help me clean the kennels. I’ll need you to scrub the floor in the back, and I’ll take care of the paperwork.”

Jake gives a mock salute. “Got it, boss.”

You can’t help but laugh, the image of Jake trying to look serious while wearing a half-grin pulling a smile from you. Together, you both fall into the rhythm of the work, moving seamlessly between tasks. The two of you clean the kennels and sweep the floors, your hands working together, but the silence between you is no longer uncomfortable. It’s easy. Even when you’re in the middle of the mundane routine, everything feels a little different now. Like you’re not just a volunteer anymore. You’re not just the girl who runs the shelter. You’re you, with Jake by your side, helping you in the most unexpected ways.

It doesn’t take long to finish up the chores, and soon the shelter feels like it’s ready for the night. The animals are settled, the lights are dimmed, and the air smells clean and fresh. You finish locking up the last of the cages and stand, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Looks like we’re done here,” you say, glancing at Jake.

“Yeah, I think we did pretty good,” he replies with a satisfied grin. “I didn’t break anything this time, so that’s a win.”

You smile at him, crossing your arms. “Well, I guess you passed the test then.”

He steps toward the door, waiting for you to follow. “So, now that it’s all done… I can walk you home?”

You hesitate for a second, the question catching you off guard. Your heart flutters, and you feel a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that,” you reply softly. “But you really don’t have to, Jake. You’ve done enough today.”

Jake shakes his head, his expression serious now. “I want to. It’s not a big deal.” He opens the door for you, holding it wide as you step out into the cool night air. “I said I’d walk you home. And I mean it.”

The two of you walk side by side again, the streetlights casting long shadows as you make your way through the familiar streets. The path to your home isn’t far, but somehow, it feels like the night stretches on longer than usual. There’s something in the way Jake is walking next to you, the steady pace, the way he’s so attuned to your presence. He’s quiet, but not in the uncomfortable way—just... in the thoughtful way that makes your heart race a little faster.

“So,” Jake says, breaking the silence as the distance between you and your apartment shrinks, “I guess this is the part where I ask... what’s next? You know, for us.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sudden directness, but the warmth in his voice makes it feel like a natural question. It’s not a challenge; it’s just... curious. Like he’s trying to figure things out just as much as you are.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft, unsure of where this conversation will go.

Jake shrugs, his smile small but genuine. “I mean... now that we’ve, uh, gotten past all the awkwardness and joking around, what happens now?” He looks at you, his eyes sincere, almost vulnerable. “I really like being with you, you know. It’s not just the shelter. It’s... you.”

Your heart skips. You can feel your own vulnerability rising up as you look at him. “Jake...” You stop walking for a moment, and he does too, his gaze never leaving you. “I like being with you, too,” you admit, the words feeling weighty, real, and true. “I don’t really know what’s next either. But maybe... that’s okay.”

Jake nods slowly, as if he’s letting that settle in. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice steady now. “I think that’s okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the quietness of the night surrounding you, the air thick with the newness of everything. There’s no rush, no need to figure out the future yet. Not tonight. Tonight, it’s enough to just stand here, together.

You finally reach your building, and as you stop in front of the entrance, you turn to Jake with a soft smile. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake."

He grins, his eyes flickering with warmth. "Anytime, princess."

You feel a warm flush creep up your neck, but you don’t hide it. Instead, you just smile back, your chest full. “See you tomorrow?”

Jake nods, his hand slipping into his pocket as he takes a step back. “Definitely. I’ll be back to volunteer again. I mean, I can’t stay away that long.”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “I’ll be waiting,” you tease.

And with that, he walks backward for a few steps, still watching you, the smile on his face the last thing you see before you close the door behind you. But even as you lock it, you know you won’t be alone for long. Jake has found a way into your life—and it doesn’t seem like he’s leaving anytime soon. And honestly, you’re okay with that.

Jake’s message pops up on your phone as you’re finishing your morning routine, and for a moment, you just stare at it. It’s simple, but there’s something about it that makes your heart race a little. "Are you in the shelter today?"

You’re quick to type your response, already halfway to the door of your apartment. Yes, I’ll be there in a bit. Why? You send the message with a hint of curiosity, wondering what this is all about. Jake’s usually not the type to reach out first unless there’s a reason, especially when it comes to something serious.

Not long after, his reply buzzes in. Good, because I need to talk to you about something important. The words are brief, but they send a flutter through you. It’s something I want to say in person.

You can’t help but feel a little nervous. You set your phone down on the counter and take a deep breath. Whatever it is, you tell yourself, it’s just Jake—nothing you can’t handle.

When you arrive at the shelter later, the usual sounds of animals greet you, but Jake is already waiting by the door, standing a little too still for someone who’s usually so full of energy. He looks... different today. More serious, almost. As if whatever he’s been holding back is weighing on him.

"Hey," you greet, a smile tugging at your lips as you walk toward him. "You’re here early."

Jake doesn’t smile back right away. Instead, he looks at you, his usual easygoing energy replaced with a quiet, almost intense focus. "Yeah, I wanted to get this over with," he says, his voice quieter than usual. He scratches the back of his neck, clearly a little nervous, but there's determination in his eyes. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

You raise an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his seriousness. "What is it?"

Jake takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself. He shifts his weight slightly, then finally looks you in the eyes, his voice more earnest than you’ve ever heard it. "I want to take you out on a date," he says, his words direct but soft. "A real date. And... I want to confess something, properly." He pauses, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I like you. More than just as a friend or... whatever we’ve been calling this."

Your heart skips a beat at his admission, the air around you suddenly feeling thicker, charged with a tension that wasn’t there a moment ago. The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re left speechless. He’s been talking about his feelings for you all along, but hearing it like this... in the quiet space between the two of you, it feels like something new, something more real than ever before.

Jake scratches the back of his head, his gaze shifting away for a second. "I... I mean, I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but I wasn’t sure how you felt. But I can’t just keep pretending like I’m okay with just being the guy who helps out at the shelter. So, yeah, I’m asking now." He looks back at you, his eyes a little anxious. "So... what do you think?"

Your mind races for a moment, your pulse quickening as you process what he’s just said. And then, you smile—a soft, genuine smile that feels like a weight lifting off your chest. You feel light, happy even.

"I think I’d like that," you finally say, your voice quieter than usual. "A real date sounds perfect."

Jake’s face lights up in that familiar, contagious grin, the one that makes you feel like the world’s a little bit brighter. "Really?" He asks, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

"Yeah," you answer, stepping closer to him. "I like you too, Jake. A lot."

Jake’s eyes soften at your words, the tension that had been there moments ago dissolving into a warmth that fills the space between you. "So... you’ll go out with me?" he asks, a playful spark returning to his eyes.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips as you tease, "I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how the date goes."

Jake chuckles, clearly relieved, his usual playful energy returning. "I’ll take that as a yes, then." He steps a little closer, his smile a mix of happiness and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. "You won’t regret this, princess."

Your heart does a little flip at the nickname, and you try to keep your composure, but it’s hard when Jake’s standing there, looking at you with all the affection in the world.

"So," you start, trying to shift the conversation. "When’s this date happening?"

Jake takes a step back, his playful grin never faltering. "Soon. I’ll figure it out." He pauses. "But don’t get any ideas. I’m not letting you off the hook that easily."

You laugh, the sound easy and free, as you shake your head. "I think I’m looking forward to it."

"Good," Jake says with a wink, already starting to drift back toward the area where the animals are waiting. "Because I’m definitely not letting you get away now."

And as you watch him go, you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest, knowing that whatever comes next, it’s the beginning of something real between the two of you.

The morning feels lighter than usual, the kind of day where everything feels a bit brighter. You wake up to a new excitement buzzing in your chest, a lingering warmth from last night’s date. As you finish getting ready, you glance at your phone, smiling at the simple but thoughtful message from Jake: “I’ll pick you up at 7, princess.”

Today, it’s a date—another chance to be with him.

Jake arrives at your apartment just as expected, pulling up in his car with a relaxed smile on his face. He’s wearing a plain navy shirt that hugs his frame perfectly, beige pants, and a black belt. His style is simple, but it suits him so well that it’s almost effortless. You notice the way his eyes brighten when he sees you, wearing your favorite white shirt and short jeans, ready for another adventure.

"Morning, princess," Jake greets as you step out of your door. His voice holds a softness, but there's a boldness in the way he looks at you now, like he’s not holding back anymore. He steps toward you, his hand brushing against yours as you both walk to the car. “Ready to pick up some dogs and go for a walk?”

You nod, smiling softly. “Absolutely. Let’s go.” The nerves you used to feel around him are gone, replaced with an easy comfort, like being with him just fits.

The drive to the shelter is short, filled with light conversation, and the dogs are already wagging their tails in excitement when you arrive. You grab two leashes, one for Jake’s golden retriever and one for your husky, before you both start walking toward the park.

The park is peaceful this time of morning, a quiet haven just for the two of you and the dogs. Jake’s golden retriever pulls ahead excitedly, but your husky is more relaxed, trotting by your side with that calm, steady energy. You’re matching the dogs’ pace, trying to keep up, but they’re pulling you in different directions.

By the time you both find a spot to sit on a park bench, you're out of breath, laughing at how exhausting it is just to keep the dogs in check.

“I didn’t realize I was signing up for a marathon today,” you joke, wiping a bit of sweat from your forehead.

Jake’s laughter is low and warm as he glances over at you. “It’s part of the charm. But hey, hold on a second.”

He stands up and heads to the nearby ice cream stand, coming back a few moments later with two ice creams in hand. One for you and one for himself. He also brought drinks for the dogs, as they’re clearly thirsty from the walk.

“Here,” Jake says, handing you a cone. “I didn’t know if you wanted chocolate or vanilla, but I just got both. Ice cream for the dogs too, just in case.” His grin is playful, and there’s something in the way he looks at you now, like he’s so at ease with you, like he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

You thank him, your lips curving into a soft smile as you take the ice cream. You settle back into the bench, relaxing for a moment as you savor the sweet, cool treat. The dogs are now sitting at your feet, licking at their bowls.

As you’re enjoying your ice cream, you feel Jake’s gaze on you, a feeling of warmth in his presence. He’s sitting beside you now, close enough that you can feel the faint heat of his body. As you finish the cone, a bit of ice cream lands on the edge of your mouth. Without saying a word, Jake reaches over, his thumb gently brushing the spot, cleaning the crumbs from your lips.

His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and the warmth in his eyes is undeniable. His soft touch makes you feel like your heart might flutter out of your chest.

"Gotcha," Jake murmurs with a teasing smile, his fingers still brushing your skin before he pulls his hand away.

You’re not sure if it’s the closeness, the soft, gentle gestures, or the way he looks at you, but you’re feeling all kinds of things. It’s intimate, and it’s making everything feel so real.

"You’re getting a little too good at this," you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to earn points or something?"

Jake looks at you with a playful grin. "Maybe I’m just trying to make sure you’re well taken care of. Can’t have you looking all messy now, can I?" His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it now, a new boldness that wasn’t there before.

You chuckle and shake your head, but deep down, you’re really enjoying this new side of him.

After a while, the dogs seem to have had enough playtime, so you both get up and head back to the shelter. The walk back is slower, a comfortable silence between you and Jake as the evening starts to settle in.

As you approach the shelter, Jake walks closer to you, his hand brushing against yours again. Without thinking, you let your fingers curl around his, the touch feeling right, and you can’t help but smile at the quiet reassurance it gives you. Jake doesn’t let go either.

Once you’ve put the dogs back in their kennels, Jake offers to drive you home. The evening air is cool, the streetlights casting long shadows as you get into the car, heading back toward your apartment.

The car ride is quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the faint radio playing in the background. You steal a few glances at Jake, noticing the way he drives so carefully, his jaw relaxed as he navigates the streets. You could stay in the car with him forever, but soon enough, you pull up to your building.

Jake stops the car and looks over at you with that same soft, gentle expression. “Well, here we are,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “Thanks for today. I had a really good time.”

You look up at him, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his words. "I did too, Jake. I’m really glad we did this."

As Jake walks you to your apartment, the night air feels a little cooler, but the warmth from earlier still lingers between you two. You stand in front of your door, reluctant to let go of the night just yet. The city hums softly around you, but in this quiet moment, everything feels still.

You glance up at Jake, your heart still racing from everything that’s happened, and you smile softly. "Goodnight, Jake," you say, your voice quiet but genuine, like a promise hanging in the air.

Jake looks down at you, his gaze softening, the corners of his lips curling into that signature, tender smile. “Goodnight, princess,” he replies, his voice warm and affectionate.

There's a slight pause as the words settle between you two, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t want the night to end. You take a small step forward, your voice a little softer this time. “Can you text me when you get home?”

Jake’s eyes sparkle with affection, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Of course, I’ll text you as soon as I’m home. Promise.”

You smile, relieved, and nod as you gently lean against your door. “Thanks, Jake. Sleep well.”

“I will, now that I’ve seen you,” he teases, reaching out to give your head a soft pat, making you laugh lightly. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but there’s something about his affection that makes you feel at ease.

His hand now resting gently on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Can I give you a hug before I go?” he asks, his voice gentle, almost shy.

You smile, nodding softly. “Of course.”

In that moment, Jake pulls you into a tight, almost too soft hug, one that makes your heart skip a beat. He holds you there, his arms around you, feeling safe and warm. For a brief second, it feels like the world is just the two of you.

When he finally lets you go, there’s a lingering hesitation in his eyes, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. But he does, taking a step back.

You’re about to turn and enter your apartment when you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, surprising him. Without thinking, you lean up and kiss his cheek. His eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face.

"Wh-What was that?" Jake stammers, his hand automatically going to his cheek where your lips had just been.

You give him a cheeky grin, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just felt like it," you reply, your voice teasing.

Jake’s eyes narrow, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. “Oh, so that’s how it is?” He steps closer, his voice low but playful. “Then you better give me the other side now, or I’ll be upset.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but you’re already leaning up to give him another kiss—this time on the other cheek.

Jake’s grin widens, his confidence back as he looks at you with that teasing spark in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around for more, then,” he says with a wink before finally turning to leave.

"Goodnight, princess," he repeats, his tone softer this time, his gaze lingering for a moment before he finally steps back.

You take a deep breath, still not ready to say goodbye, but you wave gently. “Goodnight, Jake. Text me.”

He laughs quietly and gives you one last smile before turning to walk away. The sound of his footsteps fades, but you can’t help but stand there for a second longer, watching him leave. With one final look, he walks back toward the elevator, his footsteps soft on the floor.

Once he’s out of sight, you close the door behind you, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your chest. Your heart still racing from the evening and you lean against it for a moment, smiling to yourself. The night has felt so right, and you can’t wait for the next time you’ll see him.

A few moments later, your phone buzzes. "Just got home, princess. Sweet dreams."

You grin, your heart swelling with happiness, and you quickly type back, "Goodnight, Jake. Sweet dreams to you too."

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I really love your writing so much, could I request something with Spencer (maybe with intern reader) where he is helping her/teaching her something related to the BAU? Like close proximity and they’re all sweet and and awk maybe he’s even trying to be a lil flirty

Thank you!!!

Thanks angel!!

cw: HR violations? But like they're welcomed and really not inappropriate outside a professional context so

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 658 words

Spencer does this thing with his eyes. Usually they’re moving constantly, taking in every detail of your surroundings and analyzing body language and microexpressions while you’re talking to him, but occasionally they’ll lock on you with such focus it's disorienting. His eyes are a soft, warm brown. You don’t know how to handle Spencer Reid’s full attention. 

He’s saying something to you in that quiet voice he gets when you’re alone. Something you should definitely be paying attention to, something about your witness testimony next week. You can’t stop looking at him. 

“...good instincts, you can use them. Hotch wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you were ready.” 

“But I,” you swallow, trying to focus, “I shouldn’t go off book, right? I should just review the profile?” 

Spencer’s lips twitch. You get the sense this is something he’s been over already. “You should use the profile,” he says, “but sometimes the defense’s questions go beyond what we talked about. You can draw conclusions based on the profile. We trust you.” 

“Big mistake,” you mumble, half humorously. 

Spencer smiles. You really could sink into his eyes, you think. It would be easy. 

“You’ve trained with us for a long time,” he reassures you. “You study hard. You can do this.”

You rub your lips together anxiously. Emboldened by his faith in you, terrified to lose it. Spencer doesn’t move his gaze. 

You clear your throat, swiveling around in your desk chair. “Could I go over my notes from the case with you? I’m worried I’ll miss something.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You hear his chair roll closer. 

You skim through your files, pretending not to feel the warmth of his body heat against your neck and back. Spencer would never intentionally push the boundaries of professionalism, but you think sometimes your closeness makes him forget them. Your team is a family. Spencer doesn’t really treat you very differently than he would Emily or JJ, can’t know that his hand on your elbow or his knee bumping yours means so much more to you than you imagine it does to them. He rolls his chair as close to yours as it can get to see your screen better, mindless to the way his chin brushes your shoulder as he leans in. 

He hums, the buzz of it so close you shiver. 

“It’s not very organized, sorry…” 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, eyes on the screen. “They’re your notes. You should keep them however works for your brain.” 

He sets a hand on the back of your chair to reach for your mouse, scrolling. You catch yourself holding your breath. 

You force a slow, steady inhale. You can smell him. Laundry detergent and something vaguely coconutty. You wonder if it’s his soap or his shampoo. 

“You don’t have very much on the weapon choice,” says Spencer. “I know it seems obvious to us, but a jury won’t know about what that reveals. You sort of have to spell it out for them.” 

“Oh, thanks.” You reach the keyboard, tingles skittering up your arm where your elbow brushes his. You type in some additional notes. 

Spencer’s looking at you again. “You okay?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know it feels like a lot of pressure.” His voice is gentle, considerate. “But you don’t have to be nervous.” 

You finish typing and turn to face him. You watch his eyes widen momentarily as he realizes how close you are, too. Brown eyes, deep brown, deeper pupils pushing outward. He doesn’t move. 

“I think I’ll probably always be nervous,” you admit. 

Spencer smiles softly. “Maybe. You’ll always be capable, too.” 

You mirror him, your lips curving. “Thanks for thinking I’m good at my job.” 

“You are good at your job.”

“Well, thanks for helping me to be.” 

Spencer’s still smiling when he lowers his chin an inch, letting it rest on your shoulder. You hold your breath. That, you think, has to be intentional. 

“Anytime,” he promises.

[traflawgar]

Hello!! Could I please request zoro head cannons. This is a fluff prompt. Basically after the straw hats liberate yet another country and have their celebration on the sunny, zoro snatches the reader and throws them over one shoulder while he has a barrel of booze on the other. Someone asks him “aren’t you going to eat” and he says something like “I got what I need” before going to the crows nest with his partner. I wonder how zoro would show his affection when liquored up and away from nosy eyes (sanji probably sets some food aside because it would be a cold day in hell before his crewmates go hungry)

alone with you

zoro x reader. FLUFF.

TAGS: alcohol, of course. zoro likes to pretend he's a tough bitch but he loves cuddles and kisses.

NOTES--I love zoro. I see him as the kind of dude to pretend he's super stoic in front of others, but once he's alone with his partner will be quite cuddly. for this request I went more on the properly headcanons direction, hope you like the result!

Zoro has been staring at you since everyone reunited at the ship. Sitting across from you, taking gulp after gulp of his sake, he’s not letting you ignore him. No matter how hard you try. You can’t even meet his gaze, afraid that the simmering fire in his eyes will reflect your own need to be alone with him.

And then everyone would find out that there’s something more going on between the two of you.

He does not have the same concern. That much becomes evident when he abruptly stands up and strides toward you. He ignores the crew’s complaints as he moves anything and anyone out of his way. Complaints that fall silent as confused and shocked eyes—and one pair of knowing ones—watch him carelessly pick you up and throw him over his shoulders.

Stunned silence hangs in the air, before wolf whistles and laughter break it unceremoniously. Your friends are not deterred by the groan you let out, nor by the murderous glare you throw their way. 

“Wait, dinner’s almost ready!” Sanji yells as he steps onto the deck, lured out of the kitchen by the chaos unfolding.

“Don’t care. Got everything I need here.” As if to emphasize his words, Zoro shifts the weight of the barrel he’s holding in one arm, and pats your ass with his free hand.

You think you hear Sanji complain and threaten to let you starve later, but that’s quickly pushed out of your mind as Zoro begins climbing up towards the crow’s nest. He’s completely oblivious to how dangerous it is, while all you can think about is the very precarious position you’re in.

A few torturous moments later, he sets you down on the floor and you finally open your eyes. “Finally we’re a–” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by your fists on his chest as you accuse him of nearly killing you.

Usually, Zoro would let you carry on with your antics and tease you once you get bored of them. Tonight, however, he’s feeling quite impatient. He’s been waiting for ages (a few minutes) to be alone with you while everyone else hogged your attention (spent time with you in a group setting). He was hoping to sneak away after dinner when everybody was too full of food and alcohol to notice—and he usually would’ve done just that. You know that, know tonight feels different for some reason, so you don’t really complain when he shuts you up with a kiss, hands holding your wrists to stop you.

You let him pull you to his favourite spot in the crow’s nest, follow suit as he plops down on the floor. He’s a lot more affectionate when he’s drunk, not holding himself back from what he actually wants.

His head is immediately on your shoulder, and whenever he’s not filling his cup with the barrel he brought, he’s nuzzling against you and muttering how warm you are. Every other minute he’ll look up at you with puppy eyes and –ask for– demand a kiss.

“I want a kiss,” he’ll mutter with a pout (which he later denies was a pout), and you think it’s the cutest thing to ever happen to you.

Eventually he gets you to sit between his legs, your back pressed snuggly against his chest. He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you impossibly closer. He all but wraps himself entirely around you, pressing lazy kisses on your back. His fingers trace shapes on your thighs, random things at first, but then you think he might be spelling something—he’s spelling “I love you” because no amount of booze can get him to say it out loud yet. So, for now, he’ll settle for spelling it on your skin and trusting you understand it.

You’ll stay like that until your stomach growls embarrassingly loud.

“Let’s see if the shitty cook made good on his threat.”

He did not, to nobody’s surprise. Regardless of how many times he threatens to do so, Sanji never lets you go hungry.

When the two of you get to the kitchen, there’s food waiting for you. You take the plates and sit on the deck, traces of the crew’s celebration all over the floor. You sit and look at the stars, and Zoro surprises you with an incredible amount of knowledge on stars and constellations.

(He read books about it just so he could tell you all these interesting facts about the night sky because he likes seeing the impressed look in your eyes whenever he does something cool.)

After eating, he’ll suggest going back to the crow’s nest just so you can keep cuddling and maybe, if all goes according to his plan, you’ll fall asleep like that—holding each other close, with your head on his chest and your legs intertwined.

[champagnedstappen]

— MUNDANE TALKS

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader. Reader works separately and currently busy in this story, let's just say that the reader works for another motorsport and their schedule is completely different!

Summary: It's just... Them talking about their life and being mundane despite the distance between them. (And his girlfriend basically sipping the tea of the paddock from him—Max's words)

Warning: This is like my slander towards anyone against Max, especially Red Bull. Yes.

Sent to Monaco, from USA.

Her phone rings, she knows that Max needs to talk about it. She understands it clearly that since yesterday—slash that, since few days ago, Max has been talking non-stop about how the management of his team getting worse and worse. Let alone about the management and all, he already talks about how he despises the car before the beginning of the season, even before F175 where the car launch was held.

She picks up while her other hand busily organising some things that she needs while working today—including battery charger that somehow went missing yesterday, she complained, but suddenly appeared again this morning when she doesn't need it. It's always like that.

The first sentence she hears is—

"I don't understand. I've told them that the car is fucked. That it doesn't matter who's the driver, it's completely fucked."

She becomes silent for few seconds before laughing. The immediate inappropriate language from her dearest—that would send Ben Sulayem to nearest hospital completely flabbergast her.

"Morning, Maxie." She says. "I mean you guys held meetings, right? What did you say?"

She can feel that Max is smiling, just by how she calls him Maxie, he's smiling. The woman knows it of course, she knows him, he always has that kind of crisp on his accent when he's smiling. "Good morning, schatje. I mean I did say that I'm against it. Angel, since last year I've told them the problem is the car. Fix it first."

She sits near the TV of the hotel room she stays. "I mean, you backed Checo last year. I don't get it too, Adrian Newey is out of the club too. Damn, Red Bull."

"Yeah." Shot response for few seconds before the Dutchman starts again. "Like, the idea of switching teammates would help to fix the car. What kind of mindset is that?"

She nods, even though she clearly in her right mind understands Max can't see her. "It's like getting a high heel with different size and you complain about it."

"Exactly, I love you."

A hearty laugh burst out of her mouth, indicating how unexpected his words are. But, she knows, again, how unexpected this man can be. But probably what she doesn't understand is that in Max's mind, saying those three words for her are the easiest thing ever.

"Say it back." He demands.

"I love you, too, Maxie." She can hear few sounds, it's like he just opened a can of drink. Probably Red Bull. "So..."

"So?" He asks. "What?"

Her response comes in few seconds after he asked that. "See, I genuinely think that the WCC is again going to McLaren this year. They're insanely fast, it's like seeing your ghost."

He laughs hardly, she immediately smiles. "My ghost? 2023?"

"Yeah."

"I mean yeah, I've guessed, I told you before, they're going to be ridiculously fast. Wasn't expecting that though. It's like they're flying. So this is how it must've felt."

Both of them laugh at the last comment. But deep down, they both know how different the situation is. She has been a fan of motorsport since God knows how long, and it's safe to say the Red Bull her man is driving is completely fucked.

She's convinced if it isn't Max who drives it, Red Bull is Williams reincarnate.

"What's the plan?" She asks, the conversation flowing nicely. Both of them always have something to talk. The thing is, she is confident about her humour, as long she has known Max, he always laughs at her jokes. Even if it's completely sarcastic, or dangerous one. There's no dullness.

"Plan what?"

"Duh, if you have to exchange team to Mercedes?" She says as if it's the most obvious thing in this world.

"Huh? Schatje, what?"

She laughs. "Well the rumours are spreading. It's possible to you to get out of the damned team, exchange your last name to Wolff and kick out a driver." There's a pause. "Oh! Driver... Holy shit, George Russell? If you change your contract—in which you have a clause, and go to Mercedes, you'll be in a team with Russell. Oh, what if you kick him out?"

She doesn't know if a sound that the love of her life makes remind her of a sigh or a laugh, it's blurry. "Oh, schatje..."

One thing, they're both great at talking.

Bonus: (credit to @.maxsredbull on Twitter)

[loveln4]

Can I request like a max verstappen fic with jealous max with a happy ending ? Just really whatever you feel like , thank you so much and I recently found your account and absolutely loved your works, stay safe 🤍

Thank you!!

Stay safe as well 🩷

as requested:

MAX VERSTAPPEN x CHILDHOOD FRIEND!READER

synopsis: Max is surprised by his childhood friend in Abu Dhabi. The last time they were together wasn’t ideal, has times changed?

WARNINGS: sexual tension, body kissing, teasing, licking…, head(female receiving), orgasm, fingering, vulgar language, jealousy durhhhh, piv sex, safe sex, fluff ayeee

Max had crossed the finish line, concluding the 2023 season. Cheers erupted from the grandstands and the garage, but this was all inevitable.

Everyone had known that he was going to win the race, hell everyone knew he was going to be the world champion.

He jumped off his car, cheering as if this wasn’t his nineteenth win this year. Heading toward his team he noticed someone out of place.

Taking off his helmet as he approached, looking down at her, “What are you doing here?” He was breathless. Why? It could be the race…or even because of the tragically beautiful sight in front of him.

His team patting him on the back, saying their congratulations but his eyes were locked onto her. The last time they had seen each other in person, things didn’t go down the way they would’ve liked.

“I’m here to see you.” She yelled over the cheers, “Congrats, Max.” She looked devilish in the night light, forbidden thoughts rushing to his head.

“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” He looks back, seeing it’s time for him to get interviewed, “Meet me in my drivers room.” Before he could walk off someone had grabbed his arm.

Christian Horner was stood beside her, his hand stopping Max from walking away, “You treat this girl with a nice dinner, no clubbing until later.” He whispered into Max’s ear cautiously, “Too much cameras, you need to keep whatever this is professional until we talk to PR.”

“Yeah, yeah.” This caution made Max roll his eyes. Y/n and him were just friends, but the night they shared 6 months ago begged to differ.

“Max…” She moaned as he kissed her body gently, “Please.” Y/n whined as he started to strip her dress off her body.

He silenced her with a kiss, tasting the faint alcohol that she drank at dinner, “Be patient.” Max whispered against her lips.

Max went down toward her abdomen, leaving kisses and teasing her, licking up from her stomach to her chest.

Y/n’s legs clamped shut hoping for friction. Max laughed against her skin, entertained by the pain he’s causing her.

The door clicked shut behind him as he entered his drivers room. It was small, only housing a small couch, a fridge, a table and a tv mounted on the wall.

“Hey.” He greeted his friend who helped herself to a redbull from the mini fridge.

“Hi.” She took a sip, offering the can to Max, he takes it. “So, world champion…what’s the plan for tonight?”

This made him close his eyes, imagining her bare body on his bed just a few months ago. “Uh, dinner?” He asks her.

Nodding with a smile, “I was thinking a club? But if you want to have dinner first— I mean you’re probably starving, right?” Y/n stands and grabs her bag, “I’ll wait for you outside by the exit, take your time, you know? Talk to your engineer or whatever.”

She closed the door behind her, her mind reeling. His scent addictive and musky, reminding her of the night everything changed.

Her gasps were short and shallow, making Max hard through his trousers. He kissed and nipped at her core, causing her to shudder with every flick of his tongue.

She had tasted so good on his tongue that when she eventually had come undone, with a whine, he didn’t slow. Max held her down as she tried to escape from his mouth, “Max!” She cried in pleasure, this pleasure slowly turned into overstimulation as he stuck two fingers in her causing her to groan and gasp trying to push his head away, though he was to strong for her to do anything about the great amount of pleasure he was giving her.

After the second orgasm he stopped pumping his fingers into her and removed his mouth from her clit, though the flicking of his tongue was replaced with slow, painful circles endured by his thumb.

“You taste so good.” He whispered as he laid his head upon her stomach that was moving rather quickly as she tried to steady her breathing.

When Max was finally ready to celebrate his win and leave the track he found Y/n talking to another driver by the exit.

Y/n had laughed and grabbed Charles’ forearm . This filled Max with jealousy.

“Charles.” He coldly said, “Going out tonight?” He questioned him.

“Uh—planning to.” He replied, his smile faltering.

Y/n was no fool and could tell how the air shifted between them three, “Max should we go?” She asks, placing her hand on his bicep, “It was nice seeing you again, Charles.”

Charles bid them farewell as they now find themselves walking to Max’s car. Upon entering, Y/n could tell he wasn’t happy and the way Max slammed his car door just confirmed her suspicion.

“Don’t start slamming shit.” She warned as she buckled her seatbelt.

“The fuck, you telling me to do with my car?” He bit back as he did the same, buckling his seatbelt and turning the car on, the engine revving loudly.

Y/n had unbuckled her seatbelt and started collecting her bag from the bottom of the passenger seat, “Fuck you.” She said as she opened the car door but max didn’t allow her to exit as he reached over her and slammed the door shut keeping her inside.

“Look, i don’t want you talking to him when I’m not around.” He said as he started to slowly reverse out of his parking spot, “Put your seatbelt on.”

She listened to him and put the belt around herself, “Okay, dickhead. Charles and I were just catching up from the last time we saw each other.”

“You guys used to date.”

“Yeah, back when we were sixteen.” She huffed and crossed her arms, “Aww, little Maxie is jealous.” She stifled her laugh as she turned her head away from his face.

This remark caused Max to gain speed as he drove on the highway, “Don’t put me in a bad mood.” He warns.

“What’re you gonna do? Fuck my brains out again?”

This left them in silence for the rest of the car ride until Max parked the car and turned off the engine. “I thought we were gonna leave that in the past.” He turned to her.

“Kind of hard to so when you look at me like that.” She whispered to him.

Max looked up at y/n as she sat on his lap. Pure love and lust blinding each other.

His hard had filled her completely, earning soft moans and grunts from Max every time she moved her hips just a little bit.

“Y/n.” He whimpered her name as she started to move her hips up and down. His hands finding her soft skin, rough hands fitting perfectly. Max’s breath shuddered when she went a little faster, bringing herself down on him harder each time. He rested his head on her breasts, groaning as his cum emptied out of his tip, the condom collecting it.

They had laid on the bed together, tangled limbs keeping each other warm.

What they didn’t know is that the next day their whole relationship would change.

Max and Y/n had walked into the dimly lit restaurant together, earning looks from others eating dinner. Little kids waving at Max as they past by tables before getting seated in a small corner, tucked away from everyone else.

“Remember when we first came here?” Max questioned the girl who had been silent since exiting the car.

“No.” She lied as she flicked through the menu, “Why?” Y/n asked as she looked up at him through her lashes.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “We came here for your birthday.”

“Huh,” She says, boredom creeping in her tone, “I don’t remember that.”

A waiter comes and pours them wine, he takes their orders and leaves with a flirtatious smile toward y/n.

“Fucking hell.” Max whispers harshly as Y/n eyes the waiter up and down, “You could do better.”

“Probably, but if better means you— i think i’ll stick with the waiter.” Y/n takes a sip of her wine, “Wait, i do remember this place.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, this was the place where Charles and I fucked for the first time when we got back to the hotel.” Y/n smirked as she took another sip, “Great wine, no?”

“Let’s go.” Max demanded as he stood up from his seat and took out a couple of notes placing them on the table, “Get up, Y/n”

“You heard what Christian said.”

“Stop being fucking difficult, Y/n.” He walked off leaving y/n with no other choice but to follow him.

Once they got outside and far from the restaurant she finally yelled at him for his attitude, “You started this shit!” She turned him around as they got to the car, “I’m here to see you! To spend time with you, Max!” She sniffs as she wraps her arms around herself, “I wasn’t here to fight with you! I’m here to tell you that i love you.” She whispers as she finally hears what she’s saying.

This was bottled up in y/n for years. She had always pushed it down as Max got a new girlfriend or flirted with every other girl that had come his way, constantly pushing y/n away.

“Fuck it.” He carelessly said as he turned her around and pushed her against the car, claiming her lips with his. He was hungry for her, his hands gripping her body like he genuinely needed her to survive.

The kiss broke as they stared at each others eyes, a small smile working its way up to y/n’s mouth, “What?” Max laughs as he kisses her smiling lips, “Find this funny, huh?” He questions as he kisses her neck, “Get in the car.” Max whispers in her, eager to love her for the rest of the night.

God, hopefully for the rest of their lives.

A/N: rawr spicy…hope you liked it.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[caoimhewrites]

First Sight

How TF 141 + König react when meeting you for the first time

CW: canon typical mentions of injury/combat

WC: 831

Ghost hides his reaction effortlessly. The balaclava makes it easy. He's not one for romance or any form of relationship but he's intrigued by you. His eyes don't leave you for the entire conversation. He stares unblinking at you as you talk and interact with the team. He hardly says a word to you besides a few gruff words and grumbles. He would chalk it up to analyzing you or deciding if he can trust you if anyone was to ask but really he just likes looking at you. He won't admit that to himself... yet.

König meets you on a mission. You're the enemy... or at least you're supposed to be. He's ready to fight, and he knows he would win even with the bullet in his side. For some reason, one he can not even figure out himself, he just stares up at you as you stand over him. You weren't the one to injure him. It was your partner who's now incapacitated on the ground. He doesn't understand why you won't just take him out right here or as to why he won't get up to fight you. When you kneel down and reach out for him, bandages in hand he draws his knife. Although, he knows he won't use it. He finds himself putting the knife down as you shoot him a stern look and begin to bandage him up. "Was machst du?" He asks in a pained voice. "Helping... König" You reply and glance up at his masked face. His eyes widen in surprise as you say his name. How did you know? He'll have to ask you when you both get out of here.

Price sees you across the bar on a night out with his men. He's immediately struck by you. He's never seen anyone so attractive. Price doesn't date much, never having time or simply not caring at this point in his life but he can't help but approach you. He cuts Soap off mid sentence as he stands and strides over. You glance up at him with a smile that doesn’t just light up your face but somehow makes the entire room feel warmer. For a second, Price wonders if he’s said something ridiculous and didn't realize it. He feels his chest tighten as your eyes meet. "You’re staring, soldier," you tease lightly, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, but the hint of softness in your voice tells him you're not just playing. Whatever he's feeling for you, you feel it too. Price clears his throat, trying to regain the edge of composure he's used to carrying. “Aye, just... wasn’t expecting you to be quite so... captivating.”

Kyle hears the sound of your keys scraping against the door handle echoing in the otherwise quiet hallway as you unlock your new apartment. You had just moved all your things into the usually vacant apartment right beside his. He stands there for a second just observing you. You look over at him and give him a polite, neighborly smile. He smiles right back, always the gentleman. For a brief moment, Kyle considers just walking away. It’s late, after all, and you probably have a thousand things to unpack. But there's something about your presence that keeps him glued in his spot in the hallway. He only looks away when your door closes. The next day you hear a knock at the door. When you open the door, Kyle is standing there. "Need a hand with anything?" Kyle asks, the words leaving his mouth almost before he realizes it. "I'm Kyle. I'm in the flat next door... number 208" He smiles and extends his hand. "Oh yeah... the man who was staring at me ominously last night" You chuckle as you shake his hand. He already knows he's going to really like you.

Soap is standing in the brightly lit aisle in the grocery store, browsing the different types of ramen. He never understood why there were so many. He feels a presence beside him, he turns to see you standing there, just as lost as him. “D’you have a favorite?” he asked, his voice warm, laced with a Scottish accent that immediately made you pause. You laughed lightly. “I usually just grab the cheapest one, but now I’m thinking I might want to actually enjoy it tonight.” He smirks and chuckles. His eyes drift to your clothing, taking you in. As his gaze lingered, he found himself a little too curious—wondering if you always got so caught up in small decisions, or if this was a one-off moment, like him. He has a desire to get to know you despite you having said very little to him. He moves slightly closer, smile on his face. "I heard there's a new ramen place just down the street. Maybe I should take you there instead. Maybe the choice will be easier" He looks at you, hoping you will take him up on his offer.

[waechan]

nct dream's love languages (hyung line)

i was just thinking ab what my love language was and was like...wait this could be cute for my tumblr

fluff! sry if im rusty its been ages

ׂׂૢ

mark lee - words of affirmation

i thought about this one for a while bc i feel like he could be many things

mark is always busy and at first i thought quality time bc he's such a fun guy to hangout with but i don't think he has much time to spend:(

i finally decided on words of affirmation cause this man is always telling people "잘했어요!" (good job) or "수고했어!!" (you've worked hard) or literally anything else he can think of with a big ass smile on his face

he's so sweet im like awh even just thinking about it

if you were in a relationship w mark i could only imagine he'd be there to talk about anything and everything with you...the deep talks would be so intense but so amazing to have

he'd make you think of life differently, truly

he could also be an acts of service boy as he's always helping his members with things they need, it'd probably be the same for you!

text example: "you did great today babe, i'm so proud of you."

2. renjun huang - acts of service

i feel like in dream renjun gives off such a mom vibe and he's so nurturing and caring to them

i see him always doing things for you, bending down to tie your shoe, holding your things for you, planning on the entire day when the two of you hangout, ordering your food for you

he's such a chivalrous guy and i think he'd be that way as a boyfriend too

he'd be so quick to fight for you too like if someone talked shit about you behind your back he would RUN to beat whoever up omg i swear

could see him being a physical touch boyfie too bc he's always cuddled up with whoevers near him

hand holding when walking, you leaning on his shoulder when you're sitting down, it's the little things for this guy

he's adorbs

he will always always ALWAYS pay for your meals i already know that for a fact. he won't even let you get NEAR the bill

text example: "hi my love, how are you doing today? did you need anything? i'll be right there"

3. jeno lee - quality time

i was looking for pictures of him on pinterest and it honestly just pissed me off

he's so fine it makes me angry lol

i had a feeling he'd be quality time because honestly i feel like it doesn't matter what you do together he'd just want to be with you

he's always so happy and in a good mood and i feel like you being there would make everything a hundred times better for him

i think he'd love going on dates with you and he'd have something different planned everyday

but i also think he'd cherish the moments the two of you would have together just chillin on your own at home...gaming, watching movies, doing work..literally anything

he'd 100% be the most loyal boy in the world

i see him being an acts of service guy too, like lifting things for you or running errands for you...he just wants to make your life as easy as possible!

text example: "what do u wanna do today! i mean we could stay home too...whatever you want i just want to see you:)"

4. haechan lee - quality time

he's a loverboy and i already know he'd want to be around you 247

while jenos more of a calm presence, i feel like haechan is such a huge ball of energy

late night talks and walks, going to the grocery store, anything as long as he's with you

he'd hate being left out of any plans you have with other people...he'd sulk omg it'd be so cuteee

he's also definitely a night owl so i could see him wanting to talk with you until morning comes

i could also see him being physical touch because i mean, come on. have you seen the guy?

he's ALL OVER whoever he's talking to, even if it's in the most subtle ways

if your feeling down i already know he'd try to make you laugh, and treat you like his princess

text example: "soo when are you gonna stop ignoring me and tell me that you love me and you're coming over:) or i could come over!"

ׂׂૢ

i missed writing this was so funnn

lmk if u guys like it and i'll do a maknae line:) miss all of u and this community so much <3

[nkplanet]

THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

older!dean x fem!reader cw age gap, nsfw below cut (mdni), size kink (+ implied choking kink?), bunker era (think s9-10, so dean is 34-36 ish and reader is early to mid 20s), a little angsty in one or two places

notes my final assignment of first year is due in 12 hours. i wrote this instead. also i don’t usually write smut so if it’s shit dhmu

older!dean was hesitant to do anything with you at first. there’s thirteen years between you, and he’d always said it was too much, that he was too old for you. eventually, after months of teasing and flirting and god knows how many repetitions of “i know what i want, dean,” he’d grabbed your face and kissed you hard.

older!dean treats you like glass that he could break at any second. he’s gentle — gentler than he ever was with any other girl. he kisses your forehead, always has a gentle hand on you, and generally takes care of you. he cooks for you, wraps blankets around you when you fall asleep researching, and acts like the definition of a gentleman (to sam’s utter delight — the new material he’s gained to tease his brother with is endless).

older!dean shares his music with you. you call him old for it, and he makes a suggestive comment about you benefitting from his experience. he makes you a tape of songs he loves and catches you playing it in your room on more than one occasion. the two of you bond massively over music, with him showing you the rock he grew up with and you showing him newer stuff, like paramore. he’ll never admit that he thinks hayley williams is awesome, but you know.

older!dean hates taking you out on hunts. you met through hunting, and you’re a damn good hunter yourself (his words), but that will never stop him worrying. he’s protective, almost overwhelmingly so, on hunts, and you’ve had more than one biting argument about how he needs to let up. he promises he will some day, but you still see his eyes on you constantly. he needs to make sure you’re there, to make sure you’re safe.

older!dean loves to tease you with pet names to see how flustered he can make you. there are some he uses that are nice, and make you feel nice and warm inside, like angel and sweetheart. (darlin’ with his texan twang, always gets you blushing.) he tries to call you baby, but you veto it, stating the age difference as a reason. he tries to tease you, occasionally calling you kid and kiddo until you stop calling him honey and start only referring to him as old man.

older!dean absolutely loses it when you get hurt. you go on a hunt with sam, despite your boyfriend’s protests at getting left behind, and when sam calls as a heads up that you’re injured, he’s an anxious mess until you reach the bunker. you walk through the door bruised and a little bloodied, and he’s all over you. he doesn’t leave you alone, even after you’ve been cleaned up and ordered to rest by sam. he’s constantly touching you, either holding your hand or rubbing comforting circles on your hip. even when you heal he’s hesitant to let you out of his sight again, stating in the middle of a dark night while he holds you close that he can’t lose you.

things with older!dean start out soft and pretty vanilla, as he doesn’t want to push you or hurt you. he’s so caring and gentle with you, making sure you enjoy yourself and holding you close and making sure you finish first.

when older!dean finds out you’re just as freaky as he is, it’s over for you. he’s relentless, testing new things with you almost every night. youre sure you’ve tried every position by now, but dean’s favourite is a tossup between missionary, where he can watch your face as he all but pounds into you, and cowgirl, where he can watch as you tire yourself out on top of him (being able to see your tits bounce is also a bonus).

older!dean loves it when you suck him off but let’s be honest: he’s a huge munch. he’s eaten you out in more places than you can count, including (probably) every surface in the bunker, the backseat and driver’s seat of the impala, countless motel rooms and even a few diner restrooms.

older!dean has trouble letting you take control sometimes. he feels a little strange, given the age gap between you, but when you do get chance? he loves it. being completely under your control, letting you do whatever you want? it’s like a dream come true for him. but, despite how many times you start on top, it always ends with him snapping his hips up into you or flipping you over and finishing what you started.

older!dean loves it when he gets to see just how much bigger he is than you. when he can hold your waist and his hand seems to just dwarf you, or when he has you in his lap and his hands cover your hips completely. he especially loves watching as he takes you, and when his large hand wraps around your throat with just enough pressure for you to feel it.

regardless of how vanilla or how insane the sex is, older!dean never misses a second of aftercare. he’s always right there, with either a warm bath or a damp cloth depending on how tired you are. he’ll massage your thighs after they’re spent from riding him or comb out the tangles he made in your hair, whispering sweet nothings to you and holding you like you’re fragile because, to him, you are. even when he’s let you take the reins, he holds you close as you drift off to sleep, pressing gentle kisses on your face and tracing his hand down your back.

[revelboo]

could we get some fluffy b-127 or bluestreak crumbs whenever you get a minute, if you wanna? not to get too into it but i. had a meeting with my boss earlier that Really didnt go well adn im still a little shaken up by it-

Sure, I hope everything turns out okay

Where I Belong Pt 14

Bluestreak x Reader

• Stretched out on your stomach, chin resting on your folded arms, you can hear birds singing in the trees, the sound peaceful with the sun warming you. Eyes opening when Bluestreak finds and tucks another wild daisy in your hair, you look up at the mass displaced mech. Thinking about his blurted claim that you were gorgeous. Right now, you’re pretty sure your hair is a snarled mess from the drive. And now it has weeds in it. You probably look half feral, but you can’t tell him to stop, not when he’s smiling like that.

• On his side facing you, he can feel the sun warming his plating and out here, his processor is quiet. The anxiety and nerves falling away. Can’t believe he said that to you, but it’s true. Loves you for taking care of him, putting up with him. But saying it? That leaves him jittery all over again, knows the words would come out wrong. That he’d embarrass you again. “We don’t have to go back any time soon, right?” You ask as he finds another flower, reaching to tuck it in your hair only for you to snatch it from him. Propping yourself up and leaning almost over him. And he’s frozen staring at you as you tuck it in his helm against his cheek, soft fingers lingering on him.

• “We can stay as long as you want,” he says, optics wide as he stares up at you. “We could just stay here. Just us.” And you snort, because you both know you can’t. He’s got his duties and someone will come looking for him eventually. Watching him roll onto his back to stare up at the sky, optics staring, you smile. “I could build us a little house right here,” he adds and you brace a hand on his shoulder, leaning over him as he glances at you. Like he’s completely serious.

• “What kind of house would you build us?” You ask and his spark stutters when you drape yourself against his chassis, stretching out an arm to lay your cheek on and idly tracing his chevron. Splaying a hand against your spine, he’s speechless. Staring up at you, optics dipping to your mouth, he wants to brush a servo against your lip suddenly. See if it’s as soft as it looks. Feeling your fingertip running absently over his helm. Clearing his vents as you wait, he reaches to adjust one of the flowers that’s nearly fallen out of your hair and his servos are trembling.

• “It wouldn’t need to be big, I could stay mass displaced,” he murmurs, venting softly. Closing your eyes, you listen to him tell you about a house that will never exist, dreaming a life that’s not meant for either of you. Realizing that if he’d have been human, you’d already be in love with him. That even though he’s not human, even though this can’t go anywhere, you do love him. Feeling your heart ache with it, with how different you both are. Knowing it’s just a lovely dream like his little house.

Previous

Another Megatron has joined the Blokees ranks. I’m going to have to buy another mini figure shelf… They’ve overflowed my monitor shelf, they’re with my regular figures. So many little guys and at this point I have more Blokees than actual transforming Transformers 🤣

[nulli-bug]

FOR LAIOS

What do your f/o's hugs feel like? he'd give bear hugs I feel like.

What are your favorite dates to have with them? staying home playing video games

What are their favorite dates to have with you? he'd like nature hikes so he can look at all the animals

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you? he reminds me of the song carry on my wayward song by Kansas. I think laios would pick like a splatoon song or some random weird song. maybe sleepyhead by passion pit?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o? in universe (4'0 vs 6'1) 2 feet 1 inch irl (4'11 vs 6'1) 1 foot 2 inch

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you? 8 or 7?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o? if its physical features I guess his eyes

What do you think they smell like? I don't see him using any fragrances so probably like soap? maybe grass or like something woodsy?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love. he likes cooking for people he loves.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them? if we slept in the same bed he'd probably lay on me like a dog. like not in a cute way like in a lays on top of you and won't get off way.

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o? I like the hc that modern laios wears glasses.

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have? black cat and golden retriever (cringe I know)

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day? I feel like he'd probably cheer me up by doing something we like. like watching a movie .

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like? he probably has warm hands. I hc his body temp is on the warmer side and that's why he likes the cold so much.

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) forehead kisses because he's SO tall

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them? cheek kisses

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o? building lego sets

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one? random but "I like your hair" if he would ever say that to me id be happy. (a lot of people think my hair looks messy so whenever people compliment it, it makes me strangely giddy. cat is already a nickname so that I guess

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them? I'd probably call him smart all the time because HE IS. I don't do nicknames, the first name you introduce yourself with is most likely what ill call you if we meet afterwards.

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar