#Genetics Homework Help

[shy9-29]

Do You Ever Shut Up? [s.jy]

pairing - yapper jake x listener reader

“He talked, and I listened—quietly, sometimes frustrated, but always intrigued. It was never about the homework anymore, never about the noise. It was about the quiet moments in between, the ones where I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, the noise was exactly what I needed.”

wc. 18.1k

genre. fluff, high school sweetheart, introvert x extrovert — pt2

You had just transferred to this school at the start of the semester. New hallways, new faces, and the same routine—keep your head down, focus on your grades, and don’t bother trying to make friends. You weren’t rude or anything, just… disinterested. People were loud, messy, distracting. You had better things to do. Like acing every test handed to you and making teachers double-check your answers because they couldn’t believe how fast you worked through problems most kids couldn’t even start.

Within a few weeks, most of the staff knew your name—in a good way. The quiet, brilliant new kid. They praised your essays, passed your math tests around in the break room, and recommended you for everything from science fairs to tutoring programs. You didn’t mind. The praise meant progress, and progress meant a future far away from classrooms full of loudmouths and group projects.

You especially couldn’t stand people who didn’t know how to shut up. The ones who couldn’t go two seconds without blurting something out, who made every lesson drag twice as long. So when your chemistry teacher pulled you aside and said, “Y/N, I’m pairing you up with someone who could use your help,” you already knew it was going to be a disaster.

And then Jake sat down across from you.

Black hoodie unzipped just enough to show the edge of a white tee, black hair falling into his eyes, skin fair and clear like he actually cared about skincare or just had the genetics for it. His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, casual in that effortless kind of way. He looked like the kind of guy who never tried too hard but somehow still caught everyone’s attention.

“Yo! You must be Y/N, right? Man, they really gave me the quietest-looking tutor ever,” he said with a laugh, plopping into the chair across from you like he owned the place. “This is chemistry, right? Honestly, I don’t even remember what we’re learning. Something with… atoms? Explosions?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

He was loud. Way too loud. And friendly. Way too annoying. The kind of guy who talked like you’d known each other for years when you hadn’t even said hi yet. In your head, you were already calculating how many deep breaths it would take to survive the hour without snapping.

This had to be a joke.

Twelve years of school, and somehow your final year—the one that was supposed to be quiet, focused, flawless—had thrown him at you.

He was still talking. Of course he was. “I mean, I sorta remember something about covalent bonds? Or is that the one with sharing? I swear I passed the last test by, like, one percent.” He laughed again, leaning back in his chair like this was some kind of social hour instead of a tutoring session.

You stared at him, silently willing your annoyance to show through your expression. But either he didn’t get the hint… or he just didn’t care.

Jake.

You’d heard of him before today—impossible not to. Not necessarily popular, but everyone knew him. Loud in class, always chiming in with a joke, borderline annoying but weirdly charming in a way that made teachers sigh instead of scream. The kind of guy who never seemed to study, never seemed to worry, and still managed to scrape by.

The exact kind of person you hated working with.

He leaned forward suddenly, elbows on the table, eyes lit up like this was fun for him. “Okay, so, where do we start? You gonna explain it to me like I’m five or are we jumping into full nerd mode?”

You blinked again. “Do you always talk this much?”

He grinned like you’d just complimented him. “Oh yeah. It’s kind of my thing.”

You exhaled slowly, already regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “Great.”

He didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looked amused. Like your irritation just made you more interesting.

This was going to be a long semester.

The tutoring session had barely started, and already Jake was more interested in you than the worksheet in front of him.

“So, Y/N,” he said, tapping his pen against the desk in a rhythmic, mildly irritating beat. “What kind of music are you into? Wait—lemme guess. Lo-fi? Or classical? You give off major ‘I study with rain sounds’ energy.”

You didn’t look up from your notebook. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, so I was close,” he grinned, like he’d won something. “Rain sounds it is.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on drawing out the molecular structure of ethane, but he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing like he was trying to solve a mystery. “Do you always study alone? Or do you have, like, a secret group of brainiac friends who meet in libraries and whisper about grades?”

You gave him a look over the top of your notebook. “No.”

“Not very talkative, huh?” he said, more curious than offended. “That’s cool. Mysterious. Bet you’ve got a whole double life outside school.”

You sighed. “Do you want to pass chemistry or not?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’m focused now.” A beat passed. “Wait—do you play any sports?”

You didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t asking anything personal exactly, just… personal enough. Stuff people asked when they wanted to know you. Not your grades. You.

“No,” you said flatly. “I don’t do teams.”

Jake nodded like that somehow made perfect sense. “Yeah, I get that. You seem more like a solo mission kind of person. Like a main character in one of those moody indie movies.”

You blinked. “Are you always like this?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. My brain doesn’t know how to shut up. You’ll get used to it.”

You highly doubted that.

Still, somehow… you didn’t tell him to stop.

You weren’t sure how ten minutes had passed and exactly zero chemistry questions had been answered.

Jake was now fiddling with a paperclip he found on the desk, bending it into what looked like a crooked star. “So, do you like this school better than your old one?” he asked, voice casual, like you were old friends catching up instead of two almost-strangers stuck in a forced partnership.

You glanced up, half expecting the question to be another distraction tactic. But he looked genuinely curious.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the worksheet.

He nodded like you’d just shared a whole monologue. “Yeah, I mean, this place kinda sucks, but in like, a tolerable way. The food’s trash, the lockers jam half the time, and the Wi-Fi dies when you actually need it. But hey, the vending machines are alright.”

You didn’t laugh, but the corner of your mouth twitched. A tiny twitch. You prayed he didn’t see it.

Unfortunately, he did.

“Was that a smile? That totally was! Oh my god, I made the quiet genius smile. This is going in my personal highlight reel.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping the page in your notebook harder than necessary. “Can we please focus?”

Jake leaned in, resting his chin on his hand like he had all the time in the world. “Sure, yeah. But just so you know, I’m gonna crack you eventually.”

You blinked at him. “Crack me?”

He grinned. “Get to know you. Make you laugh. You’ve got this whole silent, no-nonsense vibe going, but I bet there’s a cool person hiding under all that academic intensity.”

You didn’t respond. Not because he was wrong—but because, annoyingly, some part of you wondered if he might be right.

Still, you picked up your pen and pointed at the question on the sheet. “What’s the difference between ionic and covalent bonds?”

Jake groaned dramatically, slumping over the desk like you’d just asked him to run a marathon. “Ugh, fine. But I better get, like, one fun fact about you after this.”

You ignored that part. Or at least, you tried to. But your ears felt a little warmer than before.

By the time the clock hit the hour mark, you had managed to get through maybe—maybe—three questions. And even those had taken way longer than they should have, mostly because Jake kept pausing mid-sentence to tell you a random story or ask if pineapple belonged on pizza. (You never gave him a real answer. He took your silence as a “yes.”)

“Same time tomorrow, right?” he asked as he packed up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder like he hadn’t just wasted your entire afternoon. You nodded stiffly, jaw tight. “Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll bring snacks,” he grinned, already halfway out the door before you could say anything else. “See you then, study buddy!” You didn’t even bother correcting him.

The second he was gone, you slumped back in your chair and let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your fingers to your temples. Your notes were still open, your pen untouched for the last twenty minutes, and your patience? Gone. Absolutely gone.

By the time you got home, you were still stewing. You tossed your bag on your desk with more force than necessary, scowling to yourself as you replayed the entire hour in your head. He’d asked you more questions about your favorite movies and weirdest pet peeves than he had about covalent bonds. He was loud, distracting, borderline infuriating—and worst of all, he didn’t even seem to realize how much he got under your skin. You sat down, pulled out your notebook again, and started rewriting everything you should’ve covered today. Alone. In peace. Like usual. And yet…

You found yourself thinking about that stupid crooked paperclip star he left on the table. And the way he looked so proud when he caught you almost smiling.

Ugh. You hated people like him. Didn’t you?

The next day, you threw your hair up into a bun—more out of practicality than style—and tugged on a soft, oversized knit sweater that hung slightly off one shoulder. Paired with your usual jean shorts and worn sneakers, you looked effortlessly casual, though you hadn’t really meant to. You didn’t care what people thought. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You hadn’t expected to see Jake until your tutoring session later, but the universe clearly hated you because there he was—again—in second period English, slouched in the seat two rows over. You tried to ignore him. You really did.

But then, about halfway through the class, you felt eyes on you. You glanced up, and sure enough, Jake was looking straight at you with a grin like he’d just remembered something funny. And then he waved. Your brows drew together. He wasn’t subtle—he never was—so a few people turned to look, clearly wondering what the hell that was about. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending not to notice, pretending your face wasn’t getting warm.

After class, you were barely out the door before you heard, “Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned, only out of reflex, and there he was, weaving through the crowd toward you, beaming like you were best friends.

“You in chem next?” he asked, like it was normal for him to talk to you in the middle of the hallway with people watching. “I was gonna see if you could explain that thing again—the molecule stuff? I was kind of half-listening yesterday. Which, honestly, is a win for me.”

You blinked at him. “We’re not even in the same chem class.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but I still need to pass it. Don’t judge me for multitasking.”

You were about to reply—maybe with a sarcastic comment, maybe just a noise of disapproval—when his friends called out from a few feet away.

“Jake!” Sunoo shouted, brows raised. He and Jay were standing by the lockers, both staring like they’d just seen a ghost. “What are you doing?”

Jake looked back at them, then to you. “I’ll catch you later, alright?” he said, completely unfazed by the attention. “Same time after school?”

You nodded slowly, still confused, still unsure what dimension you’d woken up in.

Jake jogged back over to his friends, who immediately pulled him into some kind of half-hushed interrogation. You couldn’t hear every word, but you caught Sunoo whisper-shouting, “Since when do you talk to Y/N?” and Jay glancing back at you like you were the weird one in this situation.

You rolled your eyes and kept walking.

Let them be confused.

You were still trying to figure it out, too.

You spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Jake. Which, naturally, meant he was all you could think about.

Every time you passed him in the hallway, he either nodded at you like some inside-joke was forming between you two, or—worse—smiled. And not the fake, polite kind. The full-face, toothy, dimpled kind that made people stop and stare because Jake never smiled at just anyone like that. You hated how it stuck with you. Like an echo that wouldn’t quit.

By the time the last bell rang and you were back in the tutoring room, you’d rehearsed a dozen ways to tell him to focus this time, to maybe not spend the entire hour talking about his favorite cartoon as a kid or what he thought his “aura color” was.

But of course, the second he walked in, hoodie slouched on his frame, that damn crooked paperclip star in hand, all your frustration shriveled into confused silence.

“You left this yesterday,” he said, dropping it on the desk in front of you like it was important. “Thought maybe you’d want your good luck charm back.”

You stared at it, then at him. “It’s literally a mangled paperclip.” He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Yeah, but now it’s sentimental.” You shook your head, trying not to let the faintest laugh escape. “Unbelievable.” Jake opened his notebook—shocking—and tapped his pen thoughtfully. “So. Ionic bonds, right? I did not Google them last night, so you’re gonna have to start from zero.” You blinked at him, almost impressed. “You actually opened your notebook.”

He gave you a mock-offended look. “Hey, I’m trying. You’re a tough tutor, but I think I’m learning. Like yesterday—I remembered you don’t like pineapple on pizza.”

You hadn’t even told him that.

He just… noticed.

You should’ve been annoyed. But instead, a small part of you warmed, just a little.

“Okay,” you said finally, flipping to a fresh page. “Let’s try again.” He leaned forward, scribbling something down as you explained. For once, he wasn’t interrupting. Not too much, anyway.

And even though he still talked way too much—and still asked questions like, “Do you think atoms ever get tired of being stuck together?”—you realized something strange.

You didn’t hate it as much as you thought you would.

Fifteen minutes in, and things were actually going… decent. Jake was focused, or focused enough—nodding along as you explained the difference between polar and non-polar covalent bonds, underlining things, even writing a few notes that didn’t look like doodles. You were cautiously optimistic.

But of course, it didn’t last.

He dropped his pen suddenly and groaned, leaning back in his chair like he was in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis.

You stopped mid-sentence. “What now?”

Jake threw his arms up. “Sorry, I just remembered I have to go home tonight and deal with my Gen Alpha little brother, and my soul left my body for a second.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“He’s so annoying,” Jake said dramatically. “Like, actually evil. You know how people say kids are mean? No—this one is a different breed. I think TikTok rewired his brain. He calls me ‘mid.’ Mid, Y/N. Just walks by and says it for no reason. I breathe and he’s like, ‘L ratio, you fell off.’”

You stared at him.

“He’s eight,” he added, like that made it make more sense. “And he told me I ‘dress like an NPC.’ Like, what does that even mean?”

You let out a breath through your nose, fighting the weird urge to smile. “Didn’t you say earlier you don’t care what people think?”

“Yeah, but that’s before I got verbally destroyed by someone who still watches ‘Cocomelon’ on the family iPad.”

You sighed, flipping back to the page you were on. “Focus, Jake.”

“I am focused. I’m just traumatized.”

You gave him a flat look.

He raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Covalent bonds. Sharing electrons. Got it. But if I randomly zone out again, just know I’m mentally preparing for another roast session when I get home.”

You shook your head and turned back to your notes, trying to pretend you weren’t kind of entertained.

Maybe a little more than “kind of.”

It happened every single time.

You’d sit down, ready to tackle the work, and then within minutes, Jake would start talking about anything but the assignment in front of you. One day it was how his favorite cereal was definitely the best, another time he spent twenty minutes describing his latest failed attempt at cooking dinner (which somehow involved burning a frozen pizza).

Every time, he would throw in a comment like, “Oh, this is easy. You’re a genius, Y/N,” or “Don’t worry, I’m totally listening,” and then proceed to get lost in whatever tangent was running through his head that day.

And for a while, you just kept it in. You stayed patient. You focused on the material while he babbled about his brother, his latest argument with his mom, or how one of his friends was “acting weird” (Jake’s words, not yours).

But by the time the sixth session rolled around, you were fed up.

You were in the middle of explaining the difference between ionic and covalent bonds again—again—when Jake started tapping his pencil against the desk. Tap, tap, tap. Then he started humming under his breath. Then he picked up his phone and checked his messages.

You could feel your patience unraveling, thread by thread.

“Jake,” you said, voice calm but strained, “I’m trying to help you here.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, not even looking up. “Sorry, sorry, I’m paying attention. Keep going.”

You gripped your pen tightly, taking a slow breath before you snapped, “Jake, I don’t know what you see here, but we are not friends. I’m not your personal therapist or your stand-in babysitter, and I’m definitely not here to listen to you talk about your annoying brother for the hundredth time.”

The words came out faster than you expected, a flood of frustration you’d been holding in for weeks. “I don’t care about your cereal preferences or how you totally destroyed your frozen pizza. You want to pass this class? Then focus. Or I’m done helping you. I’m not doing this anymore.”

For the first time in the several weeks of tutoring, Jake went completely silent. His pencil froze in mid-air, and his eyes widened, not in that usual playful way, but in actual surprise.

You didn’t care. You shoved your notebook aside, stood up, and grabbed your bag. “I can’t keep doing this, Jake. It’s exhausting, and I’m honestly tired of being disrespected every time I try to help you.”

He still didn’t say anything.

For a moment, you almost regretted it. Maybe you had been too harsh. But as you turned toward the door, you glanced back at him. He hadn’t moved. He was staring at his desk, eyes focused on something—or maybe nothing at all.

Jake was quiet. For the first time, he wasn’t talking. Not even a comment. Not a joke. Nothing.

Jake sat there for a long moment, his pencil still suspended in mid-air, the usual spark in his eyes completely absent. The silence between you both felt heavy, suffocating, and for the first time since this whole tutoring thing started, you felt the tension shift.

You almost expected him to crack some joke, to brush it off like he always did, but instead, he just… stayed silent. The kind of silence that made your skin prickle, like something was about to change. Something you couldn’t quite control.

For a second, you regretted what you’d said. Maybe you’d gone too far? Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped like that. But then again, maybe he needed to hear it.

You turned back to him, ready to speak, to apologize, maybe, but the words stuck in your throat.

Jake finally dropped his pencil, his fingers running through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. His gaze stayed on the desk, avoiding yours, and his lips pressed into a tight line, like he was holding something back.

“I get it,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity. His voice was different now—no teasing, no playfulness. Just… quiet. “I wasn’t really… taking this seriously, huh?”

You didn’t say anything, unsure if you should respond or just let him process it.

“I didn’t mean to waste your time,” he added, glancing up at you with an expression you didn’t quite recognize. It wasn’t playful, wasn’t cocky. It was genuine. “I guess I just… I don’t know. I thought if I made it more fun, it would be easier. Or maybe I thought I could mess around and still get by like I always do.”

You could feel the frustration and guilt bubbling up inside of you, but you crossed your arms and held your ground. “You can’t keep doing that, Jake. It’s not fair to me, and it’s definitely not fair to you.”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “I’ll try harder. I just… I guess I got used to things being easy and not, you know, actually working for them.”

You were silent for a moment, watching him closely. For all his noise, his interruptions, and his distractions, this was the first time he seemed to truly care about what was happening in front of him.

“Good,” you said quietly. “Because if you want to pass, really pass, you’re gonna have to start actually trying.”

Jake nodded, his usual grin absent, but there was something softer in his expression now. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll focus. I promise. Just… don’t give up on me, alright?”

You felt a small flicker of something—maybe relief, maybe frustration—pass through you. “I’m not giving up on you. I just need you to show up, Jake. For yourself.”

He met your eyes then, something unspoken passing between you two. And for once, you didn’t have to explain it. He understood.

The next day, you walked into the tutoring room with your usual steady pace, preparing yourself for another round of distractions, interruptions, and Jake’s relentless chatter. You had half-prepared yourself for him to slip back into his old habits—because that’s just who he was. He’d brush off yesterday’s moment and go back to the loud, talkative guy who couldn’t sit still for five minutes. That was what you were expecting.

But when Jake showed up, it was… different.

He was already sitting at the desk when you walked in, his backpack slung over his chair, and he was quiet. You glanced at him, unsure if you were just imagining it. The room felt oddly still, with no humming, no random comments about how you were “definitely the smartest person in the room” or stories about his brother calling him “mid.”

He barely acknowledged you, his eyes focused on the open notebook in front of him, his pen tapping gently against the pages like he was thinking about something. Normally, he would’ve cracked a joke or some random remark about how hard chemistry was—but today, he didn’t.

You paused at the door, looking at him for a moment longer, waiting for him to say something. But nothing came. Not even a greeting.

You sighed, shaking your head as you sat down across from him. “You good?” you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jake’s head lifted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Just… wanted to focus today. If that’s okay.”

For a second, you were thrown off. The change was… unsettling. The room felt quieter than usual. Too quiet.

You took a slow breath, trying to process it, but it wasn’t exactly easy. The constant noise, the banter, the Jake-ness that you’d gotten used to over the last few weeks—it was all gone. Now, he was just there. Quiet.

“Okay,” you said slowly, settling into your chair and trying to ignore the weirdness building up between you two. You picked up your pen, glancing at the worksheet in front of you. “Then let’s get to it.”

And so you did. You went through the material, explaining things like you normally would. Jake didn’t interrupt. He didn’t ask random questions or make jokes. He didn’t even fidget.

He was… listening. Actually listening. Really listening.

You’d thought it would feel like a relief, but instead, it was strange. You weren’t used to this version of Jake—the quiet one. The one who didn’t fill the silence with stories or pointless chatter. The one who was just… present.

It made you feel a little off-balance, unsure of how to act.

You hummed softly under your breath, trying to focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. The silence was deafening in its own way, but somehow, it felt… more comfortable. Even if it wasn’t what you were used to.

Jake looked up at you once, his eyes scanning your face, and you almost thought he was about to say something. But he just… nodded, his hand moving to scribble something in his notebook.

And for the rest of the session, you both worked in an unusual, almost peaceful quiet.

It was only then you realized how much you actually missed his constant noise.

The next day, as you were settling into your usual seat, Jake walked in with his usual easy stride, but this time, there was something different in his expression. It was a mixture of nervousness and excitement that didn’t quite match his usual laid-back energy.

He plopped down across from you and immediately opened his mouth. “Okay, so, random thought. I was thinking I should join an extracurricular.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going. “You’re already in, like, five different things.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but none of them are fun, you know? I need something that actually interests me.” His eyes lit up like he’d just found a hidden treasure. “I think I’m gonna join the debate club.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Debate club?”

“Yeah! I’ve been watching these debates online, and they look so intense. Plus, I bet I could totally crush it. I mean, I talk all the time, so why not make it official?”

You paused, leaning back in your chair. “You do talk a lot, don’t you?”

Jake grinned. “Exactly! It’s the perfect fit.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Well, if you’re serious about it, the debate team’s pretty good. They’re always looking for fresh blood.”

Jake leaned forward, looking a little unsure for the first time. “Yeah, but, uh… I really don’t want to end up being paired up with someone super serious. I need someone who gets it. Someone who won’t just stare at me when I’m trying to argue my point. You know, someone who won’t be super intense about it.”

You blinked. “And you think that’s going to be—?”

He grinned widely. “You. Obviously.”

You froze, caught off guard by his sudden confidence. “What? No way. I’m not gonna be your partner.”

Jake gave you a half-smirk. “Why not? You already know the material, you’re sharp. We could totally own this.”

You shook your head, still not entirely convinced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We barely survive tutoring sessions without me losing my mind.”

Jake just shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Come on, it could be fun. I promise I won’t talk your ear off during debates. Maybe.”

You gave him a skeptical look but didn’t say much else, just hoping he’d drop it. You knew Jake—he had a way of pushing until he got what he wanted.

The next day, you walked into the debate club meeting with your usual sense of reluctance. As always, the board at the front of the room had a list of members, paired up for upcoming debates. You moved through the crowd, skimming the names until you saw it.

Your heart sank.

There, in neat black letters, were your names. Right beside each other.

Y/N and Jake.

You froze, your stomach doing a weird flip as you scanned the board again to make sure you weren’t seeing things. No. It was real.

You turned to look at Jake, who was standing a few feet away, his grin wide and completely unapologetic.

“See?” he said, winking at you as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Told you we’d make a killer team.”

You groaned internally. This was going to be interesting—and not in the good way.

Trying to swallow down your frustration, you looked over at him. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Jake just shrugged again, that damn grin still plastered on his face. “Well, now we have to do this. Might as well make the best of it, right?”

You stared at him for a long moment before sighing. “I guess.”

And so, with your names officially paired together on the board, you realized that this was going to be a whole new level of chaos you never saw coming.

The day you found out you were paired with Jake for the debate was a mess in itself, but the fact that it happened while you were on your period just made everything a hundred times worse. The usual irritation, the cramps, the exhaustion, and then—Jake—your perpetually loud, always-talking tutoring partner now also your debate team partner? It felt like the universe was conspiring against you.

You were sitting at the debate table with him, the rest of the team already getting into their discussions. You felt a headache coming on, your patience worn thin, and yet you were stuck with Jake, who was so eager about everything and so unbothered by your obvious lack of enthusiasm.

He had this unshakable grin on his face, his usual energy dialed up to an eleven as he enthusiastically listed off arguments for the topic. You could barely focus on anything but the mounting frustration. You could feel your blood simmering as he babbled about points, cutting through everything you wanted to say. You’d gotten the message—he liked to talk. You got it. He liked to talk a lot.

And here you were, forced to sit through it. For the first time, you had no patience left for his unfiltered commentary.

You had tried, at first, to engage—pointing out some key arguments and trying to follow the structure. But Jake wouldn’t let up. He kept interrupting, going off on tangents about how he absolutely knew his point was the best and why the opposition was always going to lose, not realizing he was starting to sound like a broken record.

The anger you’d been keeping inside all day from the stress of it all, the frustration, the lack of sleep—it just built and built.

“Jake,” you said, through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm. “Just focus. We have to make an actual case here.”

He grinned at you, unfazed. “Yeah, but listen, listen—hear me out, we can totally make this point sound better if we—”

You couldn’t even stand the way he kept cutting you off. His voice, his energy—it felt like it was bouncing off every surface of the room, and you were just… done.

So you did the only thing that was left in your power: you shut down.

You kept your eyes on the debate board, nodding absently to everything Jake said, too tired to argue, too angry to even care. The words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You let him drone on and on, tuning out every bit of his rambling, just letting his voice wash over you without hearing a single word.

“Y/N, you get me, right?” Jake said, clearly expecting some kind of enthusiastic response. He was waiting for validation, something you were so tired of giving him.

You just nodded, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah, sure.”

His grin only widened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to react. The words felt like they were bouncing off a wall. You just didn’t care.

He rambled about how the opposition would have no chance against their “undefeatable argument” or how his points would totally blow everyone away. And you just sat there, nodding, fighting the urge to snap and scream at him to shut up.

By the time the debate was winding down, you had become the very picture of indifference. Every time Jake threw out a new idea, you just nodded along, your face a mask of calm that belied the tornado of frustration swirling in your mind.

You weren’t going to argue. You weren’t going to get into it. You didn’t have the energy. It was the same as always—Jake talking, you tuning out, and this endless, looping cycle where you did all the work, and he filled the silence with whatever nonsense he thought was important.

When the debate ended and the team moved on, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Jake slapped you on the back, still grinning.

“That went well, right?” he said, full of excitement.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak without snapping. “Yeah. Sure.”

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to defend yourself or argue with him. You had nothing left to give. You just wanted to leave, to go home, curl up with your book and forget that you ever had to share a space with a guy who never stopped talking.

Every single day, Jake never ran out of things to talk about. Not once. He’d start with random observations about the weather, then shift to a story about how he almost got kicked out of his favorite coffee shop because of his constant “misunderstanding” of their rules. Or maybe he’d talk about his old life in Australia, how he missed the beach and how “everything was way less complicated” back there. Then, it would spiral into a tangent about a movie he watched the night before, then his latest argument with his brother, then—somehow—back to chemistry. But the thing was, he never actually focused on the work. Not for long, anyway.

You would sit there, your pen poised over your notes, trying your best to stay focused on the lesson. But it was hard. Jake would say something about how the electrons were “basically like the ‘bad boys’ of atoms” and you’d just stare at him, caught in the ridiculousness of his comparison. Or maybe he’d start talking about how much he hated the new gym teacher, complaining about how strict she was and how he’d “get so much more out of it if she just let him talk a little more.”

And the more he talked, the more you realized you weren’t really paying attention to the chemistry anymore. You were just… listening. Listening to him. Watching the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited about something, how his lips would curl into that mischievous grin whenever he said something he thought was hilarious.

He had this way of making everything seem like an adventure, even the most mundane details. His Australian accent, with just the right amount of smoothness and charm, mixed with his Korean roots, was oddly soothing. It felt like he was always on the verge of cracking a joke, but somehow, it didn’t get annoying. It was just… him.

Somehow, you found yourself unwinding in his presence, even though you should’ve been getting work done. His voice, the way he gestured wildly with his hands when he was making a point, the way his hair fell in just the right way over his forehead—it all made it hard to focus on anything but him.

There were moments when you found yourself completely still, watching him talk, completely lost in his energy. It was like you couldn’t even think of a way to look away. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like it mattered, even if it was nonsense about some random celebrity gossip or how he thought pineapple didn’t belong on pizza (which you didn’t even agree with, but you just nodded along, letting him talk).

But then there were the whispers.

You heard them the first time when you were sitting in the library, working on a group project with Jake nearby. A few girls were gossiping behind you, their voices too low for anyone else to catch but not too quiet for you. “Do you think they’re dating? They’re always together.”

“Yeah, they’re always hanging out. I bet she likes him.”

You didn’t want to react to it. Didn’t want to give any of it attention, but it lingered in the back of your mind. You’d heard things like that before. You and Jake were always together, weren’t you? You tutored him. You were partners in debate. Of course, people would talk. But hearing it out loud, hearing people wonder about something that wasn’t even close to being true—it made you uncomfortable.

But what bothered you even more was how Jake never seemed to notice it. He was always talking, always oblivious, always too busy to hear the gossip that followed you two. And in some way, that made you even more irritated. Maybe he had no idea how much people were watching, how much they were speculating.

Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind. It didn’t matter. You had bigger things to focus on—like your grades, like your future, like everything but Jake and whatever these people thought. But as you stared at him—at the way he leaned in, totally absorbed in some random story about his childhood in Australia, his voice carrying with that same mix of confidence and humor—you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he really looked.

It wasn’t just that he had the sharp jawline or the way his eyes always glinted when he talked, but it was the way he was so himself. He was loud, he was chaotic, and for some weird reason, it made him kind of irresistible. The way he didn’t try to fit into anyone’s expectations, the way he was always so… unapologetically Jake.

And in that moment, you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t listening to him talk just because he was your tutoring partner or your debate teammate. You were listening because you wanted to. You were watching him, not just because he was talking, but because you couldn’t stop.

So, as he kept on with his never-ending stories and distractions, you sat there, still. The work in front of you forgotten, your focus entirely on him. You didn’t know what you were thinking or how you’d gotten here, but all you knew was that the longer he talked, the harder it became to look away.

The night before the debate, you sat at your desk, staring at the empty pages in front of you. Your textbooks were open, but your mind was elsewhere—mostly, on how much you hadn’t done. You should’ve been preparing, memorizing points, going over counterarguments, reviewing the outline. But instead, all you did was sit there for hours listening to Jake yap about everything under the sun, from his favorite video games to how he thought the new coffee shop in town was overrated. He’d talk about the dumbest things, and you’d listen, because, well, you couldn’t escape it. The more he talked, the less you cared about the debate material.

The clock ticked by, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were completely unprepared. The debate was tomorrow. Tomorrow.

You rubbed your face with both hands in frustration. You had barely touched the material. It was all just Jake’s voice in your head—his stories, his jokes, his random rants—filling the spaces where your preparation should’ve been. You had nothing. No solid points. No real arguments. Just a head full of Jake.

When the day of the debate finally arrived, you felt like you were walking into a battlefield completely unarmed. You tried to do a last-minute run-through of the main ideas, but it was useless. Every time you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but think about how Jake would be his usual loud, distracting self.

And sure enough, when Jake walked into the room where you were supposed to prep for the debate, he started up immediately. He wasn’t even five seconds in the door before he was talking.

“Yo, did you see the new episode of that show I was telling you about last week? It’s like they finally listened to the fans, you know?” he said, completely oblivious to the anxious look on your face.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the voice in your head screaming at you to focus. But it didn’t matter. Jake just kept talking. You barely even knew what he was saying anymore. His words were like background noise, a constant hum that made it impossible for you to concentrate.

“Jake!” you snapped, your patience snapping like a brittle twig. “Can you just stop for a minute?! I can’t even think with you yapping like that.”

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “Whoa, what’s with the attitude?”

“What’s with your attitude?” you shot back, frustration bleeding into your voice. “I’m stressed, I’m unprepared, and all you do is talk! You’re making it worse. I’m trying to focus, but you won’t let me! I’m behind because of you!” You could feel the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, everything you’d been holding in for so long now pouring out in one sharp burst. “You’re just so… annoying!”

The room fell silent, and you could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze on you. Jake’s eyes widened for the first time, and there was a moment of stillness. He blinked, and then his usual cocky grin was gone. Instead, there was something sharper in his gaze.

“I’m annoying?” he shot back, voice rising for the first time. “What about you, huh? All you do is sit there and act like you’re so perfect, but I’ve been doing everything I can to help, to talk to you—to be your friend—and you barely even try! You don’t even care that I’m here. I’m just trying to help, but you keep acting like I’m the problem!”

For the first time ever, Jake wasn’t the one rambling aimlessly. He was serious, his tone harsh, and it caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly all in either. So yeah, maybe I talk too much, maybe I annoy you—but at least I’m here, at least I’m trying!” His voice had a cutting edge to it. “You act like I’m dragging you down, but you never actually try to keep up. Maybe that’s why we’re behind. You’re never engaged, never focused. You don’t even care about this—you care about being annoyed.”

You were completely stunned into silence. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, like everyone was watching a car crash in slow motion. The room was completely still.

Then, from the back of the room, someone muttered, “Oh my God, just kiss already.”

You whipped your head toward the voice, heart pounding in your chest. It was the debate coach, shaking his head with a grin that wasn’t even trying to hide how amused he was by the tension.

A couple of people snickered, others exchanged awkward glances. You and Jake stood there, staring at each other, caught in this strange, new atmosphere that neither of you were quite prepared for. The sudden attention was enough to make your face flush with embarrassment, but it also gave you the clarity you needed. You realized you’d both been playing this ridiculous game for weeks, but now—now it was out in the open. And for once, neither of you could pretend like everything was fine. The cracks were visible.

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. But Jake, with his usual awkward grin, broke the silence.

“Guess we better actually start preparing, huh?” he said, his tone lighter but still laced with that underlying tension. “If we’re gonna be partnered up like this, I mean.”

You nodded, your chest tight, unsure of what to think or say next. “Yeah.”

And with that, the moment passed, but everything had changed. The debate was tomorrow, but now, you were facing something completely different—the lines between frustration, annoyance, and something else were blurrier than ever.

The next day of the debate came and went faster than you expected. You had been so focused on trying to get everything together that you had barely noticed the time passing. Surprisingly, you managed to get through the entire thing without completely falling apart. You were organized, you were prepared—and you had actually done all the work. Jake, true to form, spent most of the time talking about his ideas and rambling off thoughts that barely made sense, but you had managed to rein it in, turning his chatter into something halfway coherent. It felt like the work you’d been avoiding for weeks had come to fruition in a single, intense hour of debate.

Somehow, you won. The team won. And despite Jake’s non-stop talking, despite his distractibility, you pulled it off.

When the results were announced, you tried not to show how much relief flooded your system. You glanced at Jake, who was looking as stunned as you felt. You had done it.

As you walked to your locker afterward, head down, trying to process the fact that you’d somehow survived, you heard hurried footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Jake’s voice was unmistakable.

“You did it,” he said, breathless, catching up to you with a wide, triumphant grin. “We actually won!”

You couldn’t suppress the small wave of pride that crested in your chest, but you didn’t let it show too much. It was just another task done, another hurdle cleared. You should’ve felt accomplished—but you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that everything was just a bit too chaotic.

Jake, however, was absolutely beaming, his eyes sparkling with excitement, clearly over the moon. And then, without any warning, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you in an enthusiastic, almost too tight hug. His head rested briefly on your shoulder, and for a second, you froze. It was awkward. It was too much. You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and it made your skin crawl, your stomach twist in discomfort. The kind of discomfort that made you want to shove him off, but you stayed still, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the hallway.

“Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jake said, pulling back, grinning widely.

You stepped back slightly, not sure what to do with yourself. “It’s fine. It was a team effort,” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

But then, just as you were about to turn back to your locker, you felt it—a tug at the corner of your lips. Before you could even process it, a small, involuntary smile crept onto your face. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there.

You hated to admit it, but that moment—the hug—felt different. It wasn’t just Jake being his annoying, talkative self. It was something else. You didn’t know how to categorize it, but a part of you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would. That small, unwelcome smile lingered for just a moment longer before you cleared your throat and turned your attention back to your locker.

“Whatever,” you muttered, pushing your books into your bag. “It’s over. We won. Let’s leave it at that.”

Jake didn’t seem to mind your coldness. If anything, he seemed even more amused by it. “You’re always so chill,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder. “You don’t show it, but I know you’re happy we won.”

You couldn’t help the tiny roll of your eyes, but you were smiling, even if it was just a little bit. It was strange. You didn’t want to get used to it, didn’t want to think about why you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. But there was no denying it. Something had shifted.

You just didn’t know what.

The next few days felt like a blur. The debate was over, and somehow, against all odds, you and Jake had come out victorious. But that victory didn’t change the fact that your tutoring sessions with him were far from smooth sailing. You were nearing the end of the two remaining sessions you had agreed to, and despite your best intentions to stay focused, it was like nothing had changed. Jake still showed up late, still launched into tangents the second he sat down, still had that never-ending need to fill every silence with his voice.

At first, you tried to keep your patience in check, tried to redirect him to the material. You even tried muttering a few “focus, Jake”s under your breath, but it wasn’t long before you gave up. You stopped trying to manage him. You let him talk. Let him yap. And, strangely enough, you didn’t mind anymore.

As he rambled on about his annoying Gen Alpha brother, how he kept stealing his clothes and breaking his gaming consoles, you didn’t even bother pretending to care. Your pen rested idly in your hand as you stared at the pages in front of you, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other. You caught yourself watching him instead. You noticed the way his hands moved when he talked, the way he always seemed to forget what he was saying halfway through, only to quickly come up with another topic. His lips, his eyes, the way he ran a hand through his hair when he was trying to find the right word—it was all so… familiar now. It wasn’t annoying anymore. It was just him.

You hadn’t realized how much you were just listening until the silence suddenly hit. Jake, for once, had stopped talking.

You glanced up, your gaze catching his, and you noticed something different in his expression. It wasn’t the usual easygoing grin or cocky smirk. It was something more subdued, more thoughtful. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air felt thick with that kind of tension that usually accompanied an unspoken question.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jake asked suddenly, breaking the quiet with a soft laugh, though there was something almost vulnerable in his voice.

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. You hadn’t even realized you were staring.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” you muttered, suddenly aware of how hot your face was. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t look away. He was staring at you now, too. It was like a silent challenge, something you couldn’t quite place but felt undeniably real.

There was a brief silence as you both just… stared. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. You weren’t sure if it was because you were finally noticing something you hadn’t before, or because there was something you were both avoiding.

Finally, Jake broke the silence again, this time in a quieter tone. “You know, you don’t always have to pretend you don’t care about me, right?”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected words. For a moment, you thought about snapping something sarcastic, something to deflect. But then you realized that the words felt different coming from him. They didn’t carry the usual teasing lilt. They were softer. Almost… uncertain.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in weeks, you were struck by the thought that maybe you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe it wasn’t just Jake talking anymore. Maybe it was something else entirely. Something you didn’t quite know how to handle. You stared at him for another moment, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but all you could do was swallow them back down.

Instead, you just nodded, a simple acknowledgment. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And with that, the moment passed. Jake’s grin slowly returned, and you both fell back into the rhythm you had known so well. He resumed his rambling, but this time, you didn’t fight it. You just… listened.

The tutoring session had ended, and you packed up your things with the usual methodical precision, still processing everything that had happened. Jake was nowhere to be seen, probably chatting with someone or off doing something else, as he always did. You stood in front of your desk, organizing your notes, trying not to think about how strange the last hour had felt. It was different than usual—less frustrating, maybe even a little… comfortable? But you weren’t ready to unpack that yet.

As you gathered your things, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the classroom. You glanced up, spotting Sunoo, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, waiting for Jake. He gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t last long before he turned his attention back down the hallway.

“Hey, you,” Sunoo called to Jake as he appeared in the doorway. “Ready to go for your early birthday dinner?”

Jake waved him off, flashing a quick grin. “Yeah, yeah, just a second. I gotta grab my stuff,” he said, his voice distracted.

Sunoo crossed his arms, leaning back into the doorframe and flashing a mischievous grin. “You’re awfully distracted today. Been talking to Y/N a little too much, huh?”

Jake froze, almost imperceptibly, and glanced back at Sunoo with a raised brow. “What?” he asked, faking innocence, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Sunoo’s grin only grew wider, clearly teasing now. “I don’t know, man. You’ve been acting… different. Like, every time I see you after tutoring, you’re all smiley and weird. What, do you like her or something?”

Jake’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, he looked almost… unsure. He glanced down at the floor, his hands in his pockets, but then he looked up at Sunoo with a small, almost sheepish grin.

“I think I do,” he murmured softly, just enough for Sunoo to catch the words, his tone quieter than usual.

Sunoo’s eyes widened slightly, his lips curling into a smile. “Oh? Ohhhh, so that’s what’s going on.” His voice was light, but his eyes held a knowing gleam. “You might wanna figure that out, man.”

Jake’s response was lost in a brief moment of hesitation, but he didn’t argue. He simply gave a small shrug. “Let’s just go, alright? We’ll talk later.”

Sunoo nodded, clearly still amused, and without missing a beat, he turned back toward the hallway. Jake followed him, and as they walked down the corridor, they began chatting about something else entirely, and the sound of their voices faded as they made their way toward the stairs.

You, however, had been too busy packing your things to hear anything more than a few quiet words exchanged between them. You didn’t catch what Sunoo had said. You didn’t hear the soft confession that Jake had made to him.

For you, the moment passed like everything else—leaving you to continue your life with no idea that something had shifted between you and Jake.

The next day, when Jake showed up for tutoring, something was different. It wasn’t the usual loud, chaotic energy he brought into the room, the constant stream of words that filled every quiet space. Today, he was quieter—not the usual loud, distracted Jake, but something more… subdued. He still had that confident, easygoing aura, but he wasn’t talking just for the sake of talking. It was almost like he was holding back, like he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure whether to say it.

You glanced up from your notes when he sat down across from you, his eyes a little more focused, but there was something in the way he was fidgeting with his pen that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely present. It wasn’t the normal Jake you’d gotten used to—the one who would drop a random fact or ask a weird question out of nowhere. He was… different today. Still there, but quieter. Almost as if he was waiting for something.

For a while, the two of you just worked in silence. You, flipping through your notes, trying to make sense of everything you were supposed to know for the upcoming test. Jake, scribbling away on his homework, but it was clear his mind wasn’t entirely on the assignment.

Finally, after what felt like a long stretch of silence, Jake cleared his throat.

“Hey, so, um…” he started, his voice a little hesitant, an unfamiliar shift in his tone. You looked up from your paper, sensing the change in his demeanor. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting around the room, before meeting your gaze. “I was wondering… you know, my birthday dinner is tonight, and, uh… well, I thought maybe you’d want to come.”

You blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t like Jake to ask you directly about something personal, and even more so, it was strange that he was asking you to join him at his birthday dinner. You weren’t the type for parties. You didn’t even like them, to be honest. You preferred quiet nights, your routine, your space.

“I… I don’t really do parties,” you replied, shrugging slightly, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I’m not really into big social gatherings.”

Jake, however, wasn’t deterred. His eyes softened, and you could see that he wasn’t about to drop it that easily.

“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a playful, almost pleading tone. “It’ll be fun! Just for a little bit. You don’t even have to stay long, I promise. It’s just a small dinner with my friends… and… you know, I kind of want you to be there.”

His words caught you off guard, more than you’d like to admit. Jake, being the charismatic guy he was, didn’t beg. He wasn’t the type to be earnest about stuff like this. But now, with that small, almost shy grin on his face, and the way he was looking at you—almost like he was unsure of how to convince you—it was hard to say no.

You felt the tug of guilt. You knew he was just asking because he wanted you to be there—maybe even needed you to be there—and it was difficult to shake that thought.

“I really don’t know…” you started, but before you could finish, Jake jumped in, his voice becoming more determined.

“Please, Y/N,” he said, his eyes bright with that familiar spark. “Just this once. I swear I’ll make it worth your while. You can even leave early if you want. But, uh, it’d really mean a lot to me if you came.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair, feeling the pressure of his request weighing on you. It was just one night, one dinner. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

You let out a sigh, caving in. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Jake’s grin lit up, and you could practically see the relief flood through him. “Yes!” He immediately sat up straighter, looking way too pleased with himself. “It’s going to be fun. I promise. I’ll make sure it’s not boring.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips, despite yourself. “Alright, alright, I’m going. But don’t expect me to stay long.”

Jake chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. “Deal! I’ll make sure it’s short and sweet.”

And with that, the air between you two lightened once more. You could still feel that odd shift in the way Jake was acting today, but you pushed it to the back of your mind for now. You had given in, and you’d show up.

After all, it was his birthday.

You had no idea what to get Jake. You’d spent the last two hours walking around the mall, looking at store after store, trying to figure out what someone like him would even want. Jake was… well, Jake. He was loud, unpredictable, and always seemed to have everything figured out. He had everything you could think of: clothes, gadgets, sneakers—there was nothing obvious that you could buy him. You didn’t know him well enough to pick something meaningful, and you couldn’t just pick up something random and hope it worked. What did a guy like him even like?

Your mind raced, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself getting more and more frustrated. You checked your watch—two hours until his birthday dinner, and you still had nothing. Your phone buzzed with a reminder: “Get something for Jake!”

I’m trying, okay? you thought, shoving the phone back into your bag.

You had already bought a new top, a light pink short-sleeve shirt, hoping to look cute but not overdo it. It was casual, but still nice enough for dinner. You’d paired it with a simple white skirt—something you could move comfortably in, without feeling overdressed. You even styled your hair, which was rare for you. It felt like too much effort, but for some reason, today, you actually wanted to look… well, pretty. You wanted to look like you had at least tried.

But as you walked through the mall for the second time, your energy started to wane. The buzz of the crowd, the brightly lit stores, and the overwhelming number of options were draining. You stopped in front of a display with colorful mugs and keychains, wondering if maybe something small and quirky would be the right choice. But as you picked up a keychain shaped like a gaming controller, you immediately put it back. No way.

You checked your watch again. You had no time to overthink it anymore. You just had to pick something.

Ugh, why is this so hard?

You felt yourself getting more and more exhausted with every step. Your feet ached from walking so much, and the pressure of getting Jake’s gift just right was starting to eat at you. You glanced down at your outfit. The light pink shirt and white skirt felt okay—cute enough, but what if it was too much for a casual dinner? What if it was too little? You sighed, shaking your head.

You were halfway across the mall now, eyes scanning the stores around you, when you spotted a small boutique tucked in a corner. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something in there. You took a deep breath and walked toward it, hoping this wouldn’t be another disappointment.

You had no clue what Jake really wanted. You didn’t know what was cool for a guy like him. But you were determined to figure it out.

You just hoped you wouldn’t have to walk around the mall for another hour.

As you walked through the boutique, your mind kept wandering back to Jake’s offhand comment a few days ago. You remembered him telling you, between rants about his annoying little brother and his hectic school life, about his dog, Layla. His eyes had softened as he talked about her—there was something about the way he spoke that told you just how much he missed her.

“She’s a Border Collie,” Jake had said, smiling wistfully. “Back in Australia… She’s a good dog, always hyper and, like, way smarter than me. I swear she knows exactly what I’m thinking half the time. I miss her a lot.”

You remembered the way his voice had trailed off, as if the thought of his dog—so far away now—was too painful to fully dive into. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But now, as you browsed through the small boutique, the memory of his words stuck with you.

The shop was full of delicate trinkets, little charms hanging from gold and silver chains. You walked past a display case filled with bracelets, each more charming than the last. Your fingers grazed the edges of the glass as you looked over them, and that’s when something caught your eye. A simple bracelet—gold, with a tiny charm hanging from it.

It was small and delicate, but the charm was unmistakable. The letter “L” was etched into the metal, accompanied by a small, detailed charm shaped like a dog��s paw. A Border Collie’s paw, if you looked closely enough.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. The bracelet was perfect. It wasn’t too flashy, just subtle enough that it wouldn’t draw too much attention, but meaningful. A little nod to Layla, Jake’s dog—something that would remind him of home and the bond he shared with her.

You felt a small smile tug at your lips as you gently picked up the bracelet, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the letter “L”. It felt right. The weight of it in your hand seemed to settle all the nerves that had been gnawing at you for the past few hours. This was the gift. You didn’t need to search anymore.

For a brief moment, you found yourself imagining Jake’s reaction—his face lighting up when he saw it, maybe a little surprised, maybe even touched. You thought back to the way he had looked when he mentioned Layla, and you could almost hear the fondness in his voice. It felt like the right thing to do.

With a small sigh of relief, you walked up to the counter and paid for the bracelet, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t some grand gesture, but you were pretty sure it would mean something to him.

You hoped it would be enough.

You arrived at the restaurant a little later than expected—traffic had been a nightmare. Your phone had buzzed multiple times, notifications from Jake, probably wondering where you were, but you’d been too caught up in the mess of cars and honking horns to reply. By the time you walked through the doors, you were sure you were the last person to arrive.

The restaurant was buzzing with the chatter of diners, the smoky smell of sizzling meat hanging in the air. As your eyes scanned the room, you immediately spotted Jake, sitting at a table with a couple of unfamiliar faces. You didn’t recognize them at first, but they were laughing and talking comfortably, clearly already deep into their meal. Sunoo and Jay were there too, sitting beside Jake, looking over at you as you approached.

Jake caught your eye right away. He straightened up, but when he saw you, there was a small flicker of surprise that crossed his face, followed by a look of relief. He had probably assumed you weren’t coming.

“Oh, hey! You made it!” he called out, his voice bright and welcoming, as if he hadn’t been quietly wondering where you’d been all this time.

The two unfamiliar faces turned their attention to you. One was a tall guy with sharp features and a friendly smile, the other a girl with short hair and an easygoing demeanor. They both looked at you, curious but polite. It was clear that they didn’t expect you to be showing up at all, and when they saw you, their expressions turned into warm but surprised greetings.

“Ah, you’re here!” the tall guy said with a smile, waving you over. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.”

You smiled awkwardly, shrugging a little as you made your way to the table. “Yeah, traffic was terrible. Sorry I’m late.”

Jake slid over, making room for you next to him, his usual grin back in full force. “No problem,” he said. “Come join us. This is Minho,” he pointed to the guy, who gave you a friendly nod, “and this is Jisoo,” he pointed to the girl, who smiled warmly. “They’re both friends from my class.”

You sat down, grateful for the space they’d made for you, and immediately noticed that Sunoo and Jay seemed more interested in you than they had before. They were watching you closely, but trying not to be obvious about it. Sunoo, of course, was already smirking, and Jay seemed just as relaxed as usual, giving you a wink as you settled in.

“Glad you could join us,” Jay said, his tone playful. “We were starting to think Jake might have to eat all the food by himself.”

Jake rolled his eyes, clearly used to their teasing. “Shut up, Jay. I’m not that bad.”

The mood around the table lightened as the conversation shifted to something else, but you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with these new faces. It was Jake’s birthday, and it felt like you were crashing a party with his closest friends. You knew you were just there for dinner, but it was still a little strange to be sitting with people you hadn’t really spoken to before.

Still, you didn’t mind the warmth in the air. The laughter from the others, the clink of chopsticks against the grill, and Jake’s usual boisterous energy made the whole experience feel easier than expected. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would end up being fun, despite everything you had thought going into it.

And for a second, you even forgot the pressure of being there at all. You were just… part of the group.

As the night wore on, the conversation around the table flowed easily, with Jake and his friends joking, laughing, and digging into the sizzling Korean BBQ. You were starting to relax, the initial awkwardness melting away with every bite of meat and every passing moment. The more you watched Jake, the more you couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly enjoying himself, surrounded by his friends, his laughter ringing out across the table.

At some point, when the meal had slowed down a bit and everyone was lounging back in their chairs, you realized it was time.

You reached into your bag, your fingers brushing the small box that held Jake’s gift. You’d been holding onto it since the moment you bought it, unsure of the best moment to give it to him. The thought of handing it over felt a little nerve-wracking, but something in you told you it was the right time.

Jake was leaning back in his chair, talking with Minho about some new video game, and you noticed how relaxed he looked—like the weight of school and everything else was lifted off his shoulders for the moment. You bit your lip, then stood up from your seat, drawing a few curious glances from his friends.

“Jake,” you called quietly, your voice just a bit more hesitant than you intended. He looked up, meeting your gaze, and you saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes as you walked toward him.

“Hey,” you started, feeling your heart rate pick up just a little. “I, uh, I got you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. His face lit up in that usual mischievous grin. “Oh? What is it? I wasn’t expecting a gift, you know.”

You handed him the small box, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “Well, I know it’s not much, but… I thought you’d like it.”

Jake paused for a moment, looking down at the box in his hands. There was a flicker of curiosity in his expression as he carefully untied the ribbon and opened it. His eyes scanned the bracelet inside, the charm catching the light, and for a moment, he just stared at it, quiet.

“Layla,” he murmured, almost to himself. “This… this is perfect. How did you—?”

You watched him closely, noting the softness that appeared in his eyes. For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely touched. His grin softened as he looked up at you, a little sheepish, as if he hadn’t expected you to notice how much he missed his dog.

“I talked about her, didn’t I?” Jake said, his voice low but with a light chuckle, his fingers gently tracing the letter “L” and the dog charm. “You really listened.”

You shrugged a little, feeling that familiar awkwardness creep back up, but you didn’t mind as much. “I guess… I remember you saying how much you missed her. I thought it’d be a nice way to remind you of home.”

Jake’s smile grew wider, and for a second, it was like his usual confident self was replaced with something softer, something realer. He met your eyes, and for the briefest moment, the playful tension that always hung between you two seemed to fade.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “This means a lot to me. Honestly.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. His reaction had caught you a little off guard, but it was good to see him this way—appreciative, genuine.

As the evening continued, the gift was set aside, but you could see Jake glance at it now and then, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t need anything more than that—a small, unexpected connection, and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between the two of you weren’t as complicated as they seemed.

At least, not always.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the party wound down, the once lively chatter began to dwindle. People filtered out one by one, bidding Jake a cheerful goodbye, some slinging playful goodbyes as they waved. Sunoo and Jay were the last to leave, both of them giving Jake a ruffle of the hair and teasing him about the night. Sunoo shot you a wink as he passed by, but you simply nodded, offering a polite smile.

Once they were all gone, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It wasn’t as loud or chaotic anymore. The music had turned down low, the cake had been mostly eaten, and the remnants of a once-bustling party now sat quietly on the table—empty cups, a few crumpled napkins, and the last of the leftover snacks scattered about.

Jake, who had been the life of the party just moments ago, was now sitting back on the couch, looking at his phone. He was alone now, too—save for you, still sitting at the edge of the room, sipping on your drink, having not really said much in the last hour.

You weren’t sure why you stayed. You could’ve easily made up some excuse and slipped out when the others did. But something made you linger, almost as if you didn’t want to leave just yet. Maybe it was the quietness of the room, or maybe it was the fact that it felt like, for once, the two of you didn’t have to be anything. You didn’t have to talk loudly, you didn’t have to keep up with the jokes or banter. You could just… be.

Jake looked up from his phone, catching your eye as you sat there, lost in your thoughts. For a moment, neither of you said anything. There was just the soft hum of the room, the quiet after all the noise.

“Everyone’s gone, huh?” Jake finally said, his voice breaking the silence. He was leaning back, his expression more relaxed than you’d seen all night. He didn’t look as animated or hyper now—just like a normal guy, unwinding after his celebration.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking around the room. “Looks like it.”

Jake sat up, shifting to face you more directly. There was something different in the way he looked at you now—maybe it was the quiet of the room, or maybe the night was winding down, but you could tell he wasn’t just looking at you as his study partner or the girl he’d been tutoring with. There was something… more there. Something unspoken, lingering between the two of you.

“You didn’t really join in much, did you?” Jake asked, a bit of a teasing edge to his voice, though it wasn’t as lighthearted as it had been earlier. His gaze softened a little as he spoke. “You’re not really the party type, huh?”

You shrugged, not quite meeting his gaze. “Not really.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn’t the same kind of tension that had existed before. It was quieter—almost understanding. You could tell Jake wasn’t pushing you, but he was curious, trying to figure you out, in his own way.

“I get it,” he said after a pause, leaning back into the couch again, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “I’m not exactly a fan of huge crowds either. But… I’m glad you came.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just nodded, offering him a small smile.

It was strange, being here with just him. After all the noise, the laughter, and the teasing, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world now—just the quiet of the room and the soft thrum of unspoken words between you.

“So,” Jake said, breaking the silence again with that familiar lopsided grin, “what now?”

You weren’t sure what to say. There was something almost comfortable in the way you were sitting there, not needing to fill the air with words. So, you just shrugged, still quietly smiling.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Maybe we just… hang out a little longer?”

Jake’s grin softened into something more genuine as he leaned forward, stretching his arms out. “I like that idea.”

The night stretched on, but you weren’t in any rush to leave. For once, you didn’t mind the silence, and you didn’t feel like you needed to say anything more than what had already been said.

It wasn’t anything grand or dramatic. But, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

The streets were quiet as the two of you walked side by side, the hum of the city’s nightlife echoing in the distance, but the air around you felt peaceful. The kind of peaceful that happens when the world around you seems to disappear, leaving just the two of you walking in comfortable silence.

You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten. The hour had slipped away quietly between small conversations and moments of quiet. Now, here you were, walking in the cool night air, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

Jake had been unusually quiet on the walk back. Normally, he’d be talking non-stop about something—something random, something funny, or something that caught his attention. But tonight, there was a strange silence hanging between you two, and you couldn’t quite place why.

When you reached the corner of your street, where you usually split off from each other, Jake stopped walking. You kept going for a couple of steps before realizing he wasn’t beside you anymore. Turning, you looked back at him, confused.

“Jake?” you asked, your voice softer than usual.

He was standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring down at the ground for a moment, clearly thinking. There was an air of uncertainty about him—something you weren’t used to seeing in Jake. Normally, he was so sure of himself, so loud and unbothered by what people thought. But now? He looked almost… nervous?

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and hesitant. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I… I’m not really good at saying this kind of stuff,” he continued, his words stumbling a bit as if he was choosing each one carefully. “But, uh, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I don’t know how to say it without sounding… well, like an idiot, but…” He paused again, running a hand through his hair, his gaze now focused on the ground.

You stood there, not sure what to say. The tension in the air was thick, and suddenly, the simple walk home felt a little heavier.

“I like you,” Jake finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at you again, his face a little flushed, his expression uncertain. “I don’t know when it happened, or why, but… I think I do.”

For a moment, you were silent, your mind racing. Your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea how to respond. The words caught in your throat, and you stood there, staring at him, not sure whether to speak or just… let the silence settle.

Jake’s gaze shifted as the seconds ticked by, clearly waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The shock was too much, and the weight of his confession was suddenly overwhelming.

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly unsure of how to handle the silence between you two. “I know this is… unexpected,” he continued, his voice a little more rushed now. “And I know we’ve had our moments, but… I just had to tell you. I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t there.”

You felt your pulse quicken, your breath caught in your chest. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond, or what this meant for the two of you. The shock of his confession left you speechless. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel something for him—something you hadn’t quite figured out yet—but this? This was unexpected. It threw you off.

You wanted to say something, anything, to fill the silence. But all you could manage was a quiet exhale, standing there frozen as you processed the weight of his words.

Jake didn’t seem to know what to do either. He ran a hand through his hair again, and the tension in his posture told you just how uncomfortable he felt now. “You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, almost too quickly. “I just wanted you to know. I—yeah. I think that’s all.”

The silence stretched on, and you could feel the weight of his confession still hanging in the air. You wanted to respond, but nothing seemed right. What were you supposed to say to something like that?

After a moment, Jake shifted uncomfortably again, looking like he regretted saying anything at all. “Uh, I’ll let you go,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was trying to avoid looking at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He turned to leave, but you didn’t move. You stood frozen, your mind still racing, trying to process the fact that Jake—loud, talkative, always so confident Jake—had just told you something that you hadn’t been prepared for.

He stopped for a moment and turned back slightly, glancing at you. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, alone in the cool night air, trying to figure out what had just happened.

You didn’t move for a while. You just stood there, caught in the whirlwind of emotions that his confession had stirred up. What now?

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You stood there for a moment, your pulse still racing from the kiss, unsure of what to do next. Jake, however, didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. His eyes sparkled with that usual energy of his, though there was something different in them now—something softer.

“So… does this mean you, like, like me back or something?” he asked, his voice a little too hopeful, but still managing to sound just a little bit teasing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could get a word out, he continued, rambling as always. “I mean, I get it if you don’t know yet, and we can take things slow, but I just—”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Without thinking, you grabbed his face, pulling him toward you again, and kissed him. This time, it was longer, deeper, more deliberate. You didn’t let him talk, just focused on the feeling of his lips against yours, trying to silence the chaos in your own mind that had been building for days. When you pulled away, both of you breathless, you finally managed to speak.

“Shut up, Jake,” you said, your voice low but firm, as you pulled back slightly and gave him a pointed look.

Jake blinked, clearly stunned for a second, but then that familiar grin spread across his face again. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to be mad or flattered right now.”

You just gave him a small smirk in response. “Maybe you should be both.”

The teasing glint in his eyes was back. “Guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then?”

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Come inside, Jake. We need to talk about what’s going on here… after you stop talking for five minutes.”

Jake grinned wider. “That’s a big ask, but I’ll try my best.”

You raised an eyebrow, leading him inside. “Good luck with that.”

Once inside, you motioned for Jake to sit down on the couch. He shuffled in, still grinning like an idiot, looking at you with that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. You sat down on the opposite side, trying to create some space, but it wasn’t doing much to cool the heat you could still feel between you two.

Jake plopped down, still practically bouncing on the couch. “So, does this mean I get to talk now, or…?” he trailed off, his gaze mischievous as ever.

You sighed and rubbed your temples, trying to stave off the inevitable flood of words that was about to come. “You can talk, Jake, but just—” You paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “Just listen for a second. Let’s figure this out, okay?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to be quiet,” he said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t sure he could actually pull it off.

You took a deep breath, trying to sort through your thoughts. “I don’t know what this is yet. I don’t know what it means, and I’m still figuring things out… but you’re really distracting, you know that?”

Jake blinked, looking a little surprised at your admission. “Distracting? How?”

You shot him a half-smile. “You talk non-stop. You’re loud. You’re… everywhere. And honestly, I didn’t know how to handle it, especially after last night.” You paused. “But, I also don’t mind it… when you’re not talking about something completely random.”

Jake, for the first time in forever, sat still. His usual energy seemed to fade just a little, and he looked at you carefully, like he was actually trying to understand what you were saying. “You don’t mind me being loud?”

You shook your head. “No. Well, sometimes. But not always.” You sighed again, rubbing your forehead. “It’s just… you have this way about you. I don’t know. I didn’t expect any of this.”

Jake leaned forward, a bit more serious now, his eyes softening. “You’re kind of making me blush here,” he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. But there was no teasing in his voice this time, just a genuine warmth that made your chest tighten slightly.

You tilted your head, studying him. “I’m just trying to be honest. It’s hard to keep up with you sometimes, Jake. But I… I guess I’ve been keeping up with you more than I thought. And now, I don’t know what to do with it.”

He leaned back on the couch, his posture softening, as if he was absorbing your words. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m good at keeping up with you, then.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling, but now it wasn’t just his usual grin—it was a soft, genuine smile, like he was letting you see the real him. “I think so.”

The air between you two wasn’t as tense anymore, and that uncomfortable feeling you’d had since his confession seemed to slowly fade away. There was something calming about the way Jake was looking at you now, no longer rambling on about random things, but just being present with you.

“Alright,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “But I still think you talk way too much.”

Jake chuckled, his grin returning. “You don’t mind,” he said, teasing, but with that same sincerity behind it. “And besides, you’ll get used to it.”

You stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I guess I will.”

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t neatly tied up in a bow. But it was something—something between the two of you that felt like it could be the start of whatever came next.

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You sat there, quiet, the stillness between you two finally feeling like something that made sense. Jake shifted on the couch, his usual energy still present, but there was something different about it now. A softness.

“Oh, and,” he said suddenly, almost shy, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “I forgot to tell you yesterday… you looked really pretty.”

You blinked, a little surprised. You hadn’t expected him to say that. You didn’t even know how to respond. You weren’t used to compliments, and you weren’t about to start talking a lot now. Instead, you just looked at him, mildly flustered.

He seemed to notice your silence and rushed to explain, his words tumbling out. “I mean, you look good every day, obviously, but yesterday, I don’t know—there was something about you. Maybe it was just the way you were dressed? You know, the pink shirt and everything? It really suited you, and I just thought you looked… I don’t know, different. But in a good way.” He shrugged, his grin widening as he looked at you. “You know what I mean?”

You were quiet for a moment, processing. Finally, you managed to smile slightly, not really knowing how to express what you were thinking. “Not every day, though,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.

Jake, of course, didn’t seem to notice the hint of teasing in your voice. He was still going on about what he’d said, completely oblivious to your quieter response. “Yeah, but like, I mean—wait, did I say not every day? I didn’t mean it like that! You always look good, but yesterday—well, you know what I mean, right?” He paused, but when you didn’t immediately reply, he launched right back into it. “I guess it was just that moment, like, when I saw you yesterday… you had this vibe, this energy. I don’t know if I can explain it, but it just felt like you were different than the usual, like, I don’t know, more confident or something, and—”

You stopped him with a small shake of your head, still not saying much. You just couldn’t keep up with his constant talking, but at this point, you were used to it. It was just Jake being Jake.

You were content to sit quietly, letting him talk, even if you were barely following along. It was weirdly comforting, though. You didn’t need to speak, not with him around. He always had something to say, and it felt natural, like a part of your routine.

“So, anyway,” Jake continued, looking at you eagerly as though he was expecting some sort of reaction. “I was just thinking about it all, and then, I realized, maybe we could do the tutoring at your place instead of school? You know, less distractions, and, well, I know school can be kind of loud, but your place would be more chill, don’t you think?”

You barely registered his question, too caught up in the quiet hum of your own thoughts. You didn’t feel like speaking much today, not after everything. You were still figuring things out. But you nodded slightly, agreeing.

You gave him a brief glance, finally deciding to offer something to the conversation. “Maybe. But you’ll still talk the whole time.”

Jake laughed, his voice still full of that energy you were so used to by now. “I can’t help it! I mean, I’ve got so much to say, you know? I just like… talking. I like hearing myself talk,” he added with a grin, making you roll your eyes slightly.

You didn’t speak for a while after that. Instead, you just stared at him quietly, watching him go on and on. Honestly, you didn’t mind. It was like this every time you were together. You didn’t have to fill the space with words because Jake was always happy to do it for you.

“So, uh, same time tomorrow for tutoring?” Jake asked after a while, his eyes expectant as he looked at you.

You blinked, taking a moment to consider it. You had no intention of speaking much, as usual. But you gave a small nod. “Sure,” you whispered, feeling a tiny bit of tension leave your shoulders.

Jake smiled brightly, already moving to start talking again, but you stopped him with a look. He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly confused.

“You really don’t stop, do you?” you muttered softly, shaking your head just a little.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, you cut him off. “Fine, we’ll do tutoring at my place. But only if you talk less,” you said, your voice quiet, but with a small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

Jake blinked in surprise. “Wait, really? You’re agreeing? I thought you’d—”

“Yeah, well, you’re not going to shut up if I don’t,” you said with a shrug.

Jake let out a loud laugh, but he nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll try my best. But no promises.”

You just gave him a small, quiet smile, the kind that said you didn’t really mind at all. You were used to him talking. You didn’t have to say much, and that was enough for you.

Jake, of course, wasn’t done yet. He continued talking, but you didn’t mind. You were happy with the silence of just being around him, listening to him speak while you kept your thoughts to yourself. It was like this every time. And maybe, just maybe, you were okay with it.

The next tutoring session came, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it had become part of your routine—Jake talking non-stop, and you sitting there, quietly listening, occasionally breaking into a smile or soft laugh when he said something that was just too ridiculous.

You had been staring at him again, your eyes tracing the way his hands moved as he tried to explain something he barely understood, and how his hair always fell into his face when he leaned forward in his chair. He wasn’t the best at math—if you were being honest, he barely understood half of it—but his enthusiasm made it… bearable.

“And then,” Jake was saying, gesturing wildly with his pen, “if you… wait, no, that’s not right. I meant—uh, okay, so this is just like that time when my brother messed up the barbecue, right?” He was halfway through explaining something entirely unrelated to the subject at hand when he paused and caught your gaze.

You were staring at him again, your eyes narrowing slightly as you tried to focus, but you couldn’t help it. Something about him was just so… distracting.

“What?” Jake asked, looking a little sheepish. “You think I’m being ridiculous again?”

You just giggled softly, shaking your head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Jake grinned, leaning back in his chair, not at all fazed by the fact that he was constantly derailing your tutoring sessions with random anecdotes. “Yeah, I know. But you still like it, don’t you?”

Your eyes flicked away for a moment, a faint blush creeping up your neck as you tried to hide your smile. “You’re lucky I’m a good tutor,” you muttered under your breath, though the teasing tone didn’t quite cover up the warmth you felt.

“Ha! I knew it!” Jake pointed at you, practically jumping out of his chair. “You’re laughing! I’m winning!” He flopped back into his seat, satisfied with himself.

You couldn’t help but giggle again, trying to cover your mouth but failing miserably. His infectious energy was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t even want to.

The conversation veered off track again, and you found yourself caught up in his rambling, but this time, you didn’t mind. You didn’t feel the need to speak much. You just listened, occasionally laughing or shaking your head, all the while staring at him.

For once, it wasn’t frustrating. It wasn’t just noise. It was… nice. A quiet kind of chaos that you were starting to get used to.

The session ended with you both finally making a little progress on the homework, even if most of it had been distracted by Jake’s usual stream of consciousness. As you packed up your things, you realized that the time had passed quicker than you’d expected, and you didn’t want it to stop. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind the talking as much as you thought.

“Same time tomorrow?” Jake asked, still talking a mile a minute, but this time, you didn’t feel the need to shut him up.

You looked at him, giving a small smile, and just nodded.

“Fine,” you said quietly. “But try to get some work done, kay?”

Jake grinned widely. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh softly again, watching him grin and talk a little too much as you walked out of the room together.

I love jake sm bro | req open - masterlist | read part two here

[bean-pronounced-bawn]

Yeah I'm a dom homo

Homozygous dominant, that is

[kxsagi]

What if (Sae, Rin, Isagi, Michael, Barou, Reo)'s son joined the soccer team, but they couldn't help but notice after a few days that he looked down and upset, whenever they asked about it, he brushed it off and said it's fine.

Then, at some point he finally confessed that it's because of his soccer team, they find out that he related to them, at this moment team started to disrespect him, because they thought he got into their team, not because of his skills, but because of connections, no matter hard he tried to explain, they won't believe him. Son isn't angry or resentful at them, but it became hard to play and enjoy soccer for him because of his team.

(Note: I am sure that none of them would let their children do that, because in their eyes, it means not taking soccer seriously)

“𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦”

a/n: thank you for your patience love, i'm sorry this took a while!

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, barou shoei, and mikage reo

itoshi sae

you notice the quiet first – your son coming home, leaving his cleats by the door, and barely touching his dinner. sae’s not a big talker, but even he knows something’s off. 

the second he hears “it’s nothing,” sae calls bullshit. not out loud, he just stares, blankly, waiting. "then why aren’t you playing like you used to?" 

when his son finally admits the team thinks he’s only there because of his last name, sae just sighs. not angry. just disappointed in the world. 

“if you were actually bad at soccer, i’d be the first to say it.” that’s his idea of comfort. 

tells his son to lace up. they’re heading to the pitch. 

doesn’t go to the school. doesn’t talk to the coach. no politics. he trains his kid into a weapon instead. 

“you don’t explain your worth. you show it. make them shut up with goals.” 

suddenly, his son is playing like he's got something to prove. and sae watches from the sidelines, arms crossed, proud but still unimpressed. 

itoshi rin

rin sees it all – withdrawn posture, missed kicks in the backyard, excuses about “homework.” 

he tries asking nicely once. just once. 

“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” 

when his son finally explains, rin's entire face goes cold. “you didn’t get in because of me. you got in because you’re good.” 

then comes the rant. cold and controlled, but furious. “they think i give a crap about getting you on a national junior team? i wouldn’t waste my time. you earned this. and they know it, that’s why they’re mad.” 

teaches his kid how to mentally block out noise like it’s defense training. 

also, totally corners the coach after practice. doesn’t even raise his voice, just says in a low tone, “fix your team culture. or i’ll make sure you’re replaced.” 

his son eventually starts scoring again. 

rin watches from afar, silently smug. he may not say “i’m proud,” but his son can feel it. 

isagi yoichi

isagi’s crushed. like. emotionally devastated when he realizes his son is hurting because of soccer. 

“wait, what? they said what?” 

he’s ready to go talk to the team directly like a cool dad, but your son stops him. “please don’t make it worse.” 

cue isagi smiling tightly and walking it off, only to immediately text his old blue lock crew: “do you think it’s crazy if i show up at my kid’s school and humble 12-year-olds and their coach?” 

instead, he decides to help his son with tactics. starts playing mock defense like a jerk during backyard practice. 

“they think you’re carried? okay, let’s show them what you can do with your own eyes.” 

breaks down footage. sets drills. it’s a little overboard. 

eventually his son gets his confidence back and even nutmegs one of his teammates. 

isagi screams. from the parking lot. 

kaiser michael

“are those brats seriously saying you got in because of me?” 

kaiser laughs. like full-on laughs. it’s not mean, but it is dramatic. “you’re my son. you were born with god-tier genetics.” 

when he realizes his son isn’t comforted by jokes, the mood shifts fast. 

he crouches down and looks him in the eye. “you don’t need to prove your last name. just prove that you’re you.” 

makes the entire recovery process a game. "for every goal you score, i’ll buy you one thing off your wish list.” 

also probably bribes the worst junior teammate with fake autographs to make him cry. “oops, i wrote ‘to my #1 fan’ on the card. tragic.” 

his son gets cocky again. and for kaiser, that’s all that matters. 

eventually shows up to practice in sunglasses like, “just here to watch my son humiliate your starting lineup. no shade.” 

barou shoei

furious. not just annoyed. pissed. like, kicking-a-water-bottle-at-the-wall level. 

“you’re my kid. don’t walk around with your head down like some wannabe. act like a damn king.” 

barou doesn’t do “gentle.” he does “tough love with protein shakes.” 

wakes his son up at 5 AM to train. adds weights. 

“they think you got in through me? fine. crush them. make them beg to be your teammate.” 

doesn’t let his son quit, not because he doesn’t care, but because quitting means letting other people define your worth. 

by the time his son returns to the team, he’s faster, stronger, and has developed a borderline terrifying goal celebration. 

barou watches silently from the car, smirking. that’s my boy. 

mikage reo

reo sits his son down and talks to him like an equal. 

“i get it. when you have money, people assume everything’s handed to you. same thing happens to me.” 

he’s soft at first. he listens. nods. hugs him. says “i’m proud of you for telling me.” 

but when he hears the full story, oh. the switch flips. 

“you’re not gonna let them ruin this for you. we’re mikages. we earn our wins.” 

hires a private coach to help his son sharpen his game. also casually donates new uniforms to the team anonymously, just to flex. 

gives a speech at the next parent meeting that’s basically: “nepotism doesn’t score goals. your sons are just salty.” 

his kid scores a hat trick next game. reo’s clapping obnoxiously loud from the stands. 

“who’s the nepotism baby now?” he says under his breath, sipping sparkling water. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[elllisaaa]

EARNED IT - P. JONGSEONG

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - PRAISE KINK + MARKING

SUMMARY : after you did a successful presentation for jay's class, he feels the need to reward his favourite student in a very inapropriate way.

-> pairing : teacher!jay x student!reader

-> words count : 1.9k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : fem!reader, soft dom!jay, praise kink (obviously), marking (on both), little bit of teasing, dirty talk, begging, use of 'good girl', little bit of dry humping, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, implied oral (f. receiving) and cum eating

+ the way i'm depicting jay does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- And that’s basically how genetic modifications work. Thank you all for listening to my presentation.”

You smiled at the class as some applause erupted, but your smile was mostly directed to Jay. His own smile responded to you, his eyes glimmering proudly behind the lenses of his glasses, and you felt your stomach do flips as he stared at you. 

“- Thank you very much Y/N, you can go back to your place. Next is Sunoo, you can go up to the board and start whenever you’re ready.” 

Despite Sunoo being in the middle of his presentation, Jay couldn’t help stealing glances your way. After all, he did promise you a reward if you did good this time. You kind of failed your last presentation for his class, and Jay knew that you could do a whole lot better if you had the motivation to do so. So he effectively found something that pushed you to give the best of yourself this time - and it worked. 

You were restless for the remaining time of the class, looking at the clock every two minutes in hopes that time would pass by quicker, and nervously clicking your pen. And the fact that you could feel Jay’s eyes on you the whole time didn’t help either. So when he finally announced the end of the class, you were up on your feet almost immediately, though you had to resist the urge to pack up your things too quickly, letting everyone get out before you made your way to Jay’s desk as he locked the door behind the last student. 

“- So… How did I do this time Sir ?”

Your tone was a little teasing, with a hint of suggestion, as you walked closer to him, bypassing his desk, your head tilted to the side as if you were really waiting for an answer from him - an answer you already had.

“- Better, much better. You can be proud of yourself, I can tell you worked hard for this. And I’m proud of you too.”

His words had you clenching your thighs together as a smirk grew on your face. Everytime some praises fell from Jay’s lips, your knees grew weak and you felt yourself melting. It was crazy how little work he needed to put in to make you fold. 

“- I’m glad I’ve met your expectations.

- You did even better than that, Y/N. Come here, so that I can give you what you deserve for being such an excellent student.”

Your eyes sparkled with lust as you took a step closer to Jay, sitting on his lap and letting yourself go to the feeling of his lips devouring yours. You were already wet, your panties soaked both from how much you anticipated what was coming and from how much his encouraging words had turned you on. The frame of his glasses felt uncomfortable against your skin as you tilted your head to the side, letting Jay explore every inch of your mouth, but you didn’t care about that, you just needed him to tell you that you did good. It was something you became addicted to - the way he always found the right words to make you go dumb on him.

And you always did your best when it came to Jay, be that during his classes or when you were on your knees for him - no matter the time, you just had that urge to be good for him, you were always eager to please him. And Jay loved that, loved how you always put your all into your homeworks, and even more when you were doing your best to take him whole. But today, you deserved a very good reward and Jay planned on making you cum over and over. 

His hands roamed all around your body, slipping under your cute pleated little skirt to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You moaned into his mouth, your back arching and your breasts pressing against his toned chest. You always reacted so vividly to every one of his touches, always squirmed under his fingertips ; and Jay liked to know he had such an effect on you. 

“- I’m gonna make you feel good princess, gonna make you cum on my fingers, and then on my tongue, and then on my cock, yeah ?

- Yes, please…”

Your voice was shaking, interrupted here and there by pants as you unconsciously grinded against his thighs, eyes filled with a desperate lust that made Jay want to ruin you even more. 

“- I don’t ever need to ask for you to say please, such a good girl.”

Jay smirked as he heard you whine at his words. He knew exactly what they did to you, exactly how to rile you up and make you want him more. Your hands were tugging at his shirt in a vain attempt of undressing him, in a vain attempt to touch his naked skin, but Jay pushed your hands away as he lifted you in arms, wrapping them around your waist as he stood up to drop you on his desk. 

“- No touching me this time baby, let me just make you feel good, okay ?”

You nodded as you bit down on your lips, watching closely as Jay slipped back his hands under your skirt, his palms running across your thighs as you sighed in relief. You knew better than to argue with him when he had an idea in mind - and especially when this idea involved you and your pussy. Finally, he pressed against your clit over the material of your panties, bringing you a rush of pleasure that made you whine under your breath.

“- You’re already soaked… So fucking perfect for me.”

Every one of his words made you more desperate, and you both knew it. So when Jay ended up pushing your underwear out of his way to insert one of his fingers inside of you, neither of you were surprised about the way you immediately threw your head back, whimpering his name. And when he added another finger not too long after, you were already trembling on top of his desk. Maybe it was because you were very sensitive, but Jay was also too good with his fingers for you to keep it together. 

“- Jay…

- That’s it princess, let it go, yeah ? Be a good girl and cum for me, cum on my fingers.”

You didn’t need more than that to tip over the edge, clenching around his fingers and making it difficult for Jay to keep moving them, his thumb intensifying the pressure against your clit to compensate for it. He kept his thrusts steady until you were telling him that it was too much. At this point, Jay was barely holding on - seeing you come undone from his fingers only, moaning his name, sitting on top of his desk made something snap in him. He quickly unbuckled his belt, not caring about undressing himself completely, simply getting his cock out and spreading your legs wider. His tip bumped against your already sensitive folds, making you whimper once again as he coated his dick in your slick.

“- You’re ready to take me, baby ? You’re ready to show me that you can be even better for me ?

- Yes, yes, I’ll be good Jay, please…”

Your begs were all that Jay needed to push his whole length inside of you, not thinking twice as he took a hold of your waist for some leverage, instantly starting to thrust into you. You wrapped your arms against his neck, burying your face against the crook of his neck to muffle your moans as his rapid pace made you lose your mind already. 

“- You feel so good Y/N, so tight and nice around me, it’s like you were made for me. Taking me so well… Fuck, your little cunt looks even better when I’m filling you up…”

Everything he said was getting to your head, your hips moving along to match with his thrusts. He wasn’t able to go as deep as usual because of the position you were in, but his thick length felt even better this way - you could feel every drag of his shaft against your walls, stimulating all the right areas to make you moan against his skin. You knew you were being loud, that someone could easily hear the both of you from outside of the classroom, but you didn’t care enough to do something about it. Still, you started to suck some hickeys on the exposed skin of his skin, biting on the flesh sometimes, but it was more in order to mark your territory than for silencing your noises of pleasure.

“- You don’t know how crazy that skirt made me go, all I wanted was to bend you over my desk and fuck you just like this, shit… You’re so perfect, squeezing me so good…”

Jay was more rambling than trying to be coherent at this point, and he knew you were getting closer by the way you were hopelessly holding on to his shoulders as his hips snapped forward at a steady pace. And he was glad because he knew he won’t be able to hold back for much longer either, the way you were marking up his skin was driving him crazy with want, with the need to feel you up and mark you in an even more intimate form. 

“- Are you close princess ? Are you going to milk me dry ?

- Hmm… Y-Yeah, ‘m so close… Please, don’t stop, please…

- I’m not stopping, come on, cum like the good girl you are.”

Jay felt your teeth dig into his neck as you squeezed around him even tighter, and you both moaned in harmony as he let go too, painting your walls white. Your legs were trembling on each side of him as your orgasm crashed over you like a hurricane ravaging everything on its path, and for a moment, you felt like you were floating in another dimension. It was only when you heard Jay call your name that you finally opened your eyes again, you looked up at him with a dazed smile that made him want to fuck you up all over again. But instead, he pulled out of you and got down on his knees, spreading apart your still shaking thighs. 

“- This pussy looks even prettier when it's covered in my cum, don’t you think ?

- I love it too.”

Your words were coming in short breath as you were still trying to come down off your high, but Jay heard them perfectly and he loved the sound of that. His lips soon followed the same trail his fingers had traced before - going from your knee and raising up higher on your inner thigh. Every spot he kissed and licked at was left with a deep, red mark. And every new spot he attacked made you squirm and whimper in his hold. Some of these bruises were going to be impossible to hide behind your little skirts, and your heart swelled with an emotion you shouldn’t feel for your teacher at the thought of someone else seeing them, at the thought of him having the exact same marks on his neck, some marks that you had left there. 

“- Gonna make you mine again. Gonna make you my perfect good girl.”

You moaned again at his words, letting Jay bury his face in between your thighs to eat you out like a starved man. And it didn’t matter if your roommate caught on the marks and asked you about it, and it didn’t matter either if another student called out Jay for the bruises that were visible above the collar of his white shirt. It didn’t matter because you were his good girl.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober masterlist (comment or dm to be added) :

enha masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @heevllog @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @foxinnie8 @lala-----------lala

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar

[bluejutdae]

Stray Kids as dads

Chan: girl dad. The type of dad to learn how to braid hair so he can braid his daughter’s and make her all happy before school. He’d buy ice cream on their way back home, telling her to keep it a secret from mommy (he’ll tell you that same night, in bed, kissing the back of your neck and giggling, knowing that your daughter thinks they’re being sneaky).

Minho: could be either a girl dad or a boy dad. Could be both, and I’m sure he wouldn’t really raise his kids differently. There are no “boy toys” or “girl toys”. There’s toys and there's cats, and no you can’t pick up the cats like that you’ll hurt them. The kind of dad who loves to pick up his kids from school, and even host little get-togethers after school. He makes the kids snacks and lets them play, but only after the homework is finished!

Changbin: you can find more HERE but: mostly girl dad. He’d shamelessly go around wearing pink nail polish because his sweet sweet daughter wanted to play princess spa and wanted to paint Bin’s nails. And if he has star shaped hair clips in his hair during school drop off? That’s a fashion statement! Only hot dads will wear them. He lets his kids bury him under the sand when they’re on the beach, teaching them to swim and to laugh, not caring what people say.

Hyunjin: boy dad. Me-and-dad painting classes leader. Soccer mom. The one always ready to bring brownies (baked by Felix) to school and to sign up for parents-duty. I can also see him attend a prenatal class so he knows how to change diapers, feed the baby and so on…

Jisung: boy dad! the funniest dad! He buys inflatable dinosaur costumes for himself and his kid just so they can chase each other at the park, after they’ll eat ice cream and they’ll both come back with chocolate smudged on their adorable faces. The genetics are so strong there’s only 0.1% of possibility his kids won’t inherit his round boba eyes and squishy cheeks…

Felix: girl dad. Like Bin, he proudly goes around with painted nails and bows in his hair, glitters on his eyelids and silly necklaces. But he also likes rowdy games like chasing his kids in the garden or tossing them among the waves. On Sunday mornings he learns gg choreos with his daughter, laughing and singing, and when they need some fuel they bake cookies and brownies…

Seungmin: like Minho, either girl or boy dad. He’s the kind of dad other kids are scared of but he’s actually so sweet and loving! He always always sings his kid a lullaby before bed, never complains when another story is asked before sleeping, and always remembers to lit the night light (a puppy one he himself bought). He’s also the kind of dad to always attend his kid’s baseball practice, but he keeps yelling against the coaches and referees so you have to bribe him to make him quiet!

Jeongin: Boy dad. So good with kids in general, always calm, he never screams at his son even when he makes a mess. His kids spilled a glass of milk after repeated warnings? Jeongin takes a deep breath and cleans it all, with the help of the kid, so he’ll learn. But he’s also a fun dad, never focusing too much on school results, but focusing on his kid’s happiness and well being. Kids will be kids, so might as well have fun while raising them, right?

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[wrongbodies]

SwapHop

The buzzer screeched, the sound ringing through the entire gymnasium, but Nash was already in the air. The ball, thrown with skill and dexterity soared through the open air, up over the rim of the basket... and teetered in, clinching the victory. The crowds erupted, the game-winning hail mary shot was legendary, but Nash Marks was already a legend to his school. He landed on his feet, and immediately was being swarmed by teammates and fans, his family mixed in the crowd somewhere.

Notably, one teammate stood off to the side, not joining in on the revelry. Todd Glick, faked rubbing sweat off his face, was hunched and leaning on his knees. The reality beneath the facade of exhaustion and heat was that of steep jealousy. He loved and loathed his friend, and tonight was the last straw. Ostensibly, he was Nash's best friend. They grew up together. But that changed when Nash grew and developed into the most shrewd and composed point guard ever seen in Valley River.

And Todd was ready to explore his options. He didn't want to stand in Nash's shadow anymore.

Later, at home, Todd was freshly showered and coming down for a late snack before bed. He was not surprised to see his younger brother, 16, sitting at the counter working on some homework. He had a glass of milk, and the napkin by the glass was covered in crumbs, most likely cookies.

"Still working, Seth?" Todd asked. Seth looked up, his gray eyes comically large from behind his coke bottle glasses.

He nodded, and shoved the homework across the counter. "I have a love-hate relationship with calculus."

"Oof, I know the feeling. I took this last year. Would you like some help?" Todd inquired. The two began to review the homework. Todd and Seth may have been very different brothers, personality-wise, they did get along like many teenage brothers simply don't. They never fought, they helped each other, and they always had each others back when one of them goofed off or broke a rule.

Secretly, their parents were proud of that. However, it made it very hard to hold them accountable when they were as thick as thieves, and literally helping each other steal or sneak out. Nothing too serious, mind you. Just enough to remind their parents of their own hijinks from that age - and make them wish their siblings had been as cooperative.

After a while of working on the homework, Seth was flying through the rest of the assignment. Todd and Seth were both clever boys. Todd just leaned towards the athletic side of life, whereas Seth enjoyed theater and creative outlets. He was often trying out for different roles, but the biggest hurdle for him was his serious ocular deficiency. While Todd had been blessed with a physically fit and capable body, Seth was diagnosed early on with extremely poor eyesight. Testing showed his sight even with the glasses still fell short of the 20/200 minimum.

Seth had often been emotional about the situation. He hated that so many things he wanted to do were limited just by a fluke of genetics. And it killed Todd, too. He was always protecting him, helping him walk and navigate, driving him around. He didn't mind it, not even one bit. He just wished there was a way to give him the life he imagined his brother deserved.

And it was there, at the countertop, that the idea struck Todd. There was a way to help both himself, AND Seth. And what's more? To knock Nash off his pedestal. Better yet, to steal his spot on that pedestal.

Before he roped in Seth, he needed to gather materials and find out exactly how to make this plan a reality...

The materials ready, the plan in place, Todd first had to make sure Seth was game for his gambit. It was late at night again, but Todd found Seth in his room. He was sitting up on his bed, headphones on. When he approached he could hear the soundtrack of Sweeney Todd playing.

Tapping his brothers shoulder, Seth jolted and looked to see it was Todd. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. A proposal..." Todd said, struggling not to sound too ominous.

"Sounds like this isn't our usual bait-and-switch with Mom. Are you sneaking out?" Seth asked, grinning.

"Actually, it's more like the bait-and-switch. Maybe not in the way you think though. I want to ask you something, and I swear, on God and my life, that what it is I am 100% serious about." Todd put his hand on Seth's knee. Seth looked down, and knew that this was Todd's gentle, but obvious signal he was being dead-serious.

"Ok, I'm all ears." Seth turned the music off and tucked the headphones and his phone to the side.

"Have you- have you ever wondered what it would be like, to be me?" Todd asked. Seth narrowed his eyes, which looked a little funny since he wasn't wearing his glasses. He was very used to seeing the world as blobs and blurred colors, but he knew his brothers blob very well.

"I can't lie. I have. Not in a creepy way. I guess I have wondered what it would be like to play basketball or drive." Seth admitted.

"What if I told you I had a way to switch us?" Todd explained. "Like, you would become me, and I would become you."

"Honestly, probably I would think you were a bit crazy. Well-intentioned, but crazy." Seth cracked a smile.

"Oh, I bet. But I can assure you, this is definitely real." Todd said, a definitive tone to his voice.

"Ok, then. I will trust you on account of our honesty-among-thieves policy." Seth said, crossing over his heart their sign of infinite brotherly trust.

"If I do this, though, I need your help in a scheme. Possibly the biggest scheme we've ever done. And I 1000% won't go through with it if you aren't totally on-board." Todd said.

"Well, now you've got me absolutely intrigued." Seth said, leaning forward to see Todd's face a bit more clearly, as little as it actually helped.

"I mean no offense when I say I don't want your body, little brother. But I do want to give you mine." Todd said.

"So, if this is a body swap, as I'm understanding it, then how would that work? If we switch, you'd be in my body, right?" Seth asked, looking a bit confused.

"Yes, that's right. But I don't want to keep your body. This is why I need your full cooperation. If you agree, it likely means never going back." Todd explained.

"Wow... so you want to permanently give your body to me? I know we're tight, but I didn't think you'd be so selfless." Seth smiled.

"Here's the thing, I want to give someone your body. Actually... it's more like trap them in your body." Todd said, the blood draining from his face as he approached the climax of the revelation.

"Hot damn!" Seth said, a bit too loudly. They both craned their necks and tried to listen for any sign their parents were going to investigate. When it seemed all clear, Seth leaned forward. "You want to force someone else to be me?"

"Yes, exactly. And I know who it would be. The problem, it would mean you'd be me forever." Todd said, looking a little grim. He was scared partly because he thought Seth might reject it. But a little part of him was getting nervous about actually doing this.

"Wooooow. Wow. Wait... Before I say yes or no, I need to know who you are targeting." Seth said.

"It's Nash." Todd said, a bit too quickly, a bit too stiffly.

"I knew it." Seth said. Todd whipped his head around to stare into Seth's eyes.

"You did?" Todd asked, surprised.

"Oh come on, I may be blind but I'm not deaf. I've noticed since you were like 13 or 14 that you seem to talk about him a lot differently than when you were younger. I could tell you were jealous of him, maybe even a little angry." Seth explained.

"Does that mean you won't do it?" Todd inquired.

"Fuck no. Let's knock him down a peg or ten." Seth smiled, evilly. "Just one more question... what does it mean for us after you swap with him? Are you going to take over Nash's life?"

"Yes. This is why I need you. I can pull off living as you or as Nash, I've lived long enough around the both of you to know most of everything about your lives. But I need you, with your acting skills, your brains, and what you know about me to play the part of 'Todd.'" Todd said. He was gesturing a little more excitedly now, which Seth could only interpret as rapidly moving blurs.

"I just don't want to lose you. It's going to be weird, living with Nash trapped in this body, but you living across the neighborhood." Seth said, a little solemnly.

"I know, little bro. But there's a silver-lining. College." Todd breathed.

Seth's eyes lit up like headlights. "Oh my fucking god... I totally forgot."

"That's right. Nash and I both got into our dream school together. He was already recruited for the team. I wasn't drafted, but encouraged to try out when I started there next year." Todd was happily explaining. "What that means - is you can decide to try basketball out with my body, or just be a college kid. Or better yet, try out for the drama club!"

Tears, actual tears started leaking from Seth's eyes. He suddenly thrust forward, throwing his arms around Todd. He sobbed into his shoulder. "This is so evil, but you are my actual fucking hero."

Todd felt a little shift in his soul. He realized he could balance this evil act of stealing Nash's body and life, by finally giving Seth the opportunity to pursue one of his dreams.

With the decision made, the two brothers would spend a long time sitting there and planning just how to do it. As a sign of good faith, Todd even swapped their bodies right then and there. It was a strange feeling that night, falling asleep in his younger brothers body. But he knew it was all worth it for the end goal.

Two nights later, the last game of the season was up. They were up for the championship, and the two brothers had planned it perfectly. The perfect heist, as the two described it.

First, the two had to split up. Todd and Seth knew that Seth wouldn't be able to play the game nearly as well as Todd would, but they weren't worried about that. Todd manufactured a reason for "Todd" or his body anyway, to be benched. This was a bummer to their parents who sat in the audience, but they were still supportive. "Seth" was sitting up there with the two. In the excitement of the game, however, they would not pay much attention to Seth slipping away in the crowd and down into the locker room.

Todd had made sure to practice with Seth a lot to pull off maneuvering around in his form, with his limited eyesight. It paid off, when he was able to make it to the locker room right as the halftime break came. He sat with "Todd" which didn't look odd to the team at all, because they often enjoyed Seth's nerdy presence since he was so supportive of the team and over the years had sort of adopted Seth as their unofficial team manager.

As the time was running down, and the players were done freshening up and heading out, "Seth" stopped Nash and said he wanted to give him something, a good luck charm to clinch the win for Valley River. Of course, Valley River was already ahead 20 points, but Nash was too kind to Seth to say no.

Nash's kindness and naivety would prove to be his downfall. He was blindsided - literally - when the charm handed to him by "Seth" spread a strange cold feeling through his body. He would feel a similar sensation to Seth and Todd when they first swapped bodies two days before. A spinning feeling, with a cold sweat overtaking the body, before it settled and they came out of the trance in their new bodies.

Todd opened his eyes, and knew he had completed the plan when he saw with crystal clarity. He felt the sweaty uniform clinging to his - Nash's - skin. He felt the power of a body that reminded him of his own. Powerful from years of training and exercise. He beamed, and looked at "Todd" who was also grinning.

"Nash, it's time to go win a championship." Seth said, from out of Todd's mouth.

"I think you're right, Todd!" Todd said, enjoying the sound of Nash's voice, flicking his tongue over Nash's perfectly straight, white teeth. It was a component of his jealousy, that Nash was insufferably attractive. And now it was his.

"Wait!" Seth's scrawny, bespectacled body snapped. "What the fuck is happening? What is this?"

Seth's body was frantically feeling his chest, arms, and face. He hovered over the glasses, pulling them away and seeing just how blind he was now.

"Nash, or should I say 'Seth' we have a game to go win. Go find your parents and enjoy the rest of the game." Todd sneered, from his new body. Todd and Seth left to return to the court before Nash could say anything else.

The rest of the game went well. Todd seemed to adapt to Nash's body quickly. Score after score added up, and the lead only grew. Seth was enjoying watching the game from the bench. And he truly was enjoying the watching. He had never seen with such clarity his entire life. The past two days living as his older brother was an adjustment, but one he enjoyed every second of. And with his penchant for acting, he had pulled off the greatest role of all time. No one suspected that Todd was really his younger, dweeby brother.

In the end, the game was a lock. The boys cheered as the team and fans flooded the court again, to raise Nash up and celebrate their amazing, one-of-a-kind athlete. No one even noticed the nerdy looking boy feeling his way along the side of the gymnasium desperately trying to find his way back to his body.

Months later, Nash and Todd were moving in to college together. They had gotten to the point where they fully adopted the name of their body, and referred to each other in the same manner. Todd, the former Seth, had done a masterful job dealing with the new Seth.

For months, the deposed king athlete was desperate to prove he was body swapped and needed to be swapped back. Todd and Seth's parents were perplexed, but Todd had convinced them that this was a new role that Seth was exploring, for a play he was writing. Some idea about two brothers switching bodies.

In the end, new Seth gave up. He was still bitter and resentful, never recovering the zeal for life and athleticism he once had as Nash. He couldn't even stabilize into an approximation of Seth's former life. Instead he fell into a depression, and slacked off a lot in school. He'd eventually find a way to cope with being Seth, but everyone was worried about Seth for years to come.

Todd and Nash on the other hand completely bloomed. It seemed that Nash's body was a complete level-up for the original Todd. He was stoked to learn that he was as competent or more of a player, it was just that his former body wasn't as dextrous or agile. Whatever the case, he quickly grew to become an all-star, and MVP of the college team.

Todd, the former Seth, also found his dreams materializing. Early on, he decided not to pursue basketball, which shocked his parents a bit. However, when he joined the drama club and started acting, he was quickly a darling star of the stage. Years of perfecting diction, singing, and various accents when he couldn't properly act on stage was a hidden superpower of his. And Todd's physically adept body and good looks made him into the ultimate acting weapon. He aggressively practiced dance as well, to become an honest-to-goodness triple threat.

Somehow even more surprising was when Todd came out as gay. Nash was so supportive of it, and his parents as well. Seth notably threw a tantrum, but everyone else seemed to respond positively.

Occasionally, the new Nash would consider the morality of his actions. Sure, he had undeniably stolen something from another. But he also gave something to himself and his brother that just couldn't have happened otherwise. Maybe two wrongs don't make a right, but could two rights undo a wrong?

[s0s1mple]

Helpful Hand — Park Jongseong

Random Prompt:

“Look at you. You can’t do anything without my help and you know it.”

Random Member: Jay

TW: general yandere themes, stalking, brief violence (not towards reader)

Masterlist

Jay was a nurturer at heart. A gentleman, people called him, kind and helpful to everyone. His professors loved him, his parents preened when he was praised, his classmates looked up to him… he was a model for all of society, in their eyes. Sometimes Jay wondered why it was so easy to slip into that role. Was it just genetics, an inherent part of his personality? Was it the result of his raising, his parents doting and kind? Or was it the wealthy circles he ran in since a child, manners instilled out of necessity? Maybe it was to combat his sharp appearence, never wanting people to be ill at ease in his presence. Either way, Jay loved to provide a helping hand, and everyone was happy- honored, sometimes- to accept.

Except you.

It was such a baffling concept that he’d initially thought he was hearing wrong. Sure, people declined out of politeness sometimes, but it was always with a grateful smile and a cave-in if he pushed the matter further. But you? You just said no, tone abrupt, and continued about your day.

That… made him a little upset. It confused him, frustrated him. What had he done to deserve this behavior? Why were you being so difficult? Why were you refusing him over and over again, ducking your head to avoid his eyes as you scurried away? Was it a crush? No, you weren’t blushing. Disgust? No, there was no indication at all, no gossip of any kind.

Jay began to observe you closer whenever he caught sight of you.

He noticed little things about you. The way you scrunched your nose when your wrist got sore during a test, the way you’d clumsily stumble over your feet at the exact same spot at the bottom of the stairs, the way you’d furrow your brows in despair when you forgot money for lunch… Christ, you were so bad at taking care of yourself. Strangely unlucky as a person and almost always managing to find yourself in unfortunate situations. And yet you still had the nerve to refuse his help? What, did you think you were too good for him? Nobody thought that. Nobody.

So he searched for answers. Casually asked classmates about you, seeing what they knew. Why were you so quiet? Didn’t you have friends? Hadn’t anyone talked to you?

You, he discovered, were a ghost.

No friends, no enemies, no boyfriend, no teachers praising you or lamenting your poor work. No club affiliations, no solo extracurriculars… who were you?

Shy, he discovered. You were simply horribly anxious, always fidgeting with your hands or avoiding people to the best of your ability. You hid it well, admittedly. It had taken him a long bit to realize it, his prior assumption having been you were simply a loner who preferred your own company to anyone else’s. But that wasn’t the case. Jay would watch from across the college library as you searched around for a book for a solid fifteen minutes. You passed by the librarian multiple times, always eyeing them discreetly and almost raising your voice, but then… your open mouth would slide closed, your ears burning, and you’d scurry off to keep looking on your own.

Something in Jay warmed up in that moment. You hadn’t been looking down on him, hadn’t been ignoring him, but instead was just too anxious to accept his help. It was a shame, really, seeing how clearly you needed it. A scrape here, lost homework there, Jay suddenly became even more invested in helping you out.

He began to insist on helping more and more, gently assisting as you moved chairs before you could even refuse. Your ears would turn red, you’d curtly nod, and then scurry off. Jay watched you go with a note of amusement.

Sometimes he’d help without you even knowing, whether it be by leaving a snack and drink on your desk when you missed lunch, gently suggesting to the teacher that your essay really inspired him and resulting in a higher grade for you, or having a new pair of shoes mailed ‘mistakenly’ to your home when the soles began to fall off. All because of Jay’s intervention, your life was improving and you didn’t even know who was doing it. Jay felt like he was on cloud nine, his heart warm and happy every time he saw your confused head swivel and gentle smile when you inevitably accepted his anonymous gifts.

Jay was helping you to be better, to be successful, to be happy, to be safe…

Jay swung the baseball bat as hard as he could, a sickening crack sounding out as the male before him toppled into the wire crate of basketballs. A resounding crash, a pained shout and flailing limbs, and then another sharp, splintering sound. Jay turned to your shivering form, your fingers clutched around the letter you’d just been given. Your eyes darted, wide and terrified, between the body of male who’d just confessed to you and Jay.

Jay sighed. He dropped the bat and smoothed out his shirt sleeves, stepping over the rapidly gathering pool at his feet. “You’ve really got to be more careful, you know. You’re too trusting. What if that guy tried something, hm?” He clicked his tongue, evidently irritated, but a soft smile stretched over his lips as he considered you. “That’s alright though. I’ll look after you like I always do.”

“What-?” Your voice was so, so quiet. Hoarse and whispery like a mouse. Just as fragile as the rest of you. He walked closer, reaching to gently grab your hand and pull you out of the scene. But you flinched back, instinctively slapping at his hand, and Jay quickly snatched up your wrist. His brow ticked, mild irritation reappearing. Even so, a small chuckle escaped his lips, the male amused by your attempt to fight back.

“Look at you… Nice try, but you can’t do anything without my help and you know it. Or at least you will.”

Hi guys. Another one here. I’m sleepy, it’s 5am, what’s wrong with me. Also plz say hi or smth I like to hear from yall

[onlinecollegehomework]

Get Genetics Assignment Help, Biology Genetics Homework Help, Genetics Help with our Top Online Genetics Tutors and Genetics Homework Help Tutors Online etc.

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[ink-n-shadow]

ik you have some konig bits hiding in your drafts, hand them over to us 😡😡😡😡😡🔪🔪🔪🔪

CINNAMONNNN ;-; pls enjoy the scraps of könig i have for you

TUTOR ME?

𝜗𝜚 pairing: nerd!könig x bimbo!popular!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: allusions to smut (minors—DNI), reader is described as fem (skirts, panties), slight creep!könig, mentions of wet dreams, panty stealing, unedited

like you're taking some molecular biology course at your local university because for whatever reason they require you to take at least one STEM course, and you just cannot for the life of you understand all the equations and formulas.

but you need to pass. you're not going to graduate otherwise.

so, as desperate as you are, you're immediately making a beeline for the dorm that everyone knows to go to if they need help with a class. in a short skirt and thin tank top no less.

and nerd!könig would have no idea what he's in for when he begrudgingly opens his dorm door, muttering under his breath for someone named horangi to "please leave me the fuck alone—i'm not doing your genetics homework for you again" when he peers down at the pretty little thing standing before him with big wide eyes and a wobbling lip.

"i know you probably don't know me but—"

only nerd!könig knows exactly who you are—i mean who wouldn't? you're one of the prettiest things walking around this campus, always smiling and giggling as you weave through crowds of people going to class and saying hi to almost all of them. you'd even been in a couple of his classes, always in the back of the auditorium and popping your fruity gum as the professor drones on about cell structures.

so instead of correcting you (and telling you that he knows exactly who you are because you plague his wet dreams night after night), he listens patiently to your plight, red curls falling in front of his glossy eyes as you beg and plead with him to help you out.

"please, könig? i'll do anythin'—i just really need to pass," you all but whine, lashes fluttering to keep the petulant tears behind your lids and heel digging deeper into the sickeningly grey dorm carpeting. "i'll give you whatever you want, just name it."

and of course könig agrees, says he'll tutor you free of charge because he didn't really need your money anyway. not when he's gonna be stealing your panties from your dresser at least.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[dedeinthewild]

Could you please do a pepe marti story where you’re both curled up under a blanket, sharing earbuds, listening to a song that means everything to them. “this part,” they whisper, right before the lyrics hit, “makes me think of you.”

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~"this part, makes me think of you"

summary : Pepe and his girlfriend juggled uni and racing with fun moments—studying together, teasing each other, and enjoying lazy days. Simple, sweet, and full of laughter.

It was a rather tough period for the two of them. They were juggling their first university sessions, feeling the winter creeping in like a cold caress down their spines.

During a break, she had decided to book a flight that would take her to Pepe, tired but thrilled at the idea of balancing his Formula 2 season with his courses.

Before long, her subway pass for commuting to campus was replaced by running around the house, chasing each other like maniacs. Her jeans and serious-looking coat gave way to an old pair of sweatpants and a shirt she’d conveniently stolen from Pepe.

There was something magical about spending time with that boy, without a care in the world, talking about ten thousand things while binging nerdy movies. They never seemed to run out of things to say. They jumped from one topic to another—whether he was on the simulator and she was at the desk, or one of them sat on the bed while the other worked on a puzzle he’d been gifted but never had the time to finish.

“God, this smells,” she said, pulling out a shirt he often wore from a neatly folded pile of clothes.

Pepe grabbed the shirt instinctively, sniffing it to see if it smelled of sweat or if he’d forgotten to wash it. But it just smelled like his cologne.

“I wore it when I went to the restaurant with Mom,” he said, knowing full well she’d detect even the faintest extra spritz of fragrance.

“Yesterday, I was talking with Christian about how Gabi loves it when he puts cologne on her.”

“I hate cologne.”

“You don’t hate it,” said the Spaniard, arms crossed behind his neck, watching her search for something to wear after washing her hair.

“I simply prefer your natural smell,” she shrugged, opting to stick with the damp shirt she’d had on before climbing onto the bed and resting her head on Pepe’s lap.

He laughed, jokingly cupping her face with one hand, knowing he could always draw out one of those stunning smiles he loved so much. His hand drifted down to run through her hair.

“I should be studying chemistry,” she said, looking up at him from where she lay, noticing how he’d let his hair grow out and how, despite his packed schedule, he didn’t show a trace of fatigue.

“Want me to help you?”

How many times, before she started university, had he stayed up late, even with a race the next day, to help her with math homework? He’d patiently explain things, occasionally losing himself, and every time he did, she’d ace her exams anyway.

“I guess I’ll just procrastinate,” she said, turning to hug one of his legs and closing her eyes, feeling too cozy to start studying.

But Pepe, knowing she’d feel guilty later if she didn’t study as planned, sat up and suggested something.

“Go get your chem going, and I’ll do some laps on the sim,” he said. “Then we can play a game—your pick.”

She looked at him with one of those playful smiles, her sweet-smelling hair brushing his face as she leaned in to kiss his nose.

“God, I love you.”

The driver headed to his simulator, calling Christian and their friends to stream a quick race, while she sat at the kitchen table, firing up her computer to dive into genetics. It was a subject she’d always loved and still appreciated, despite the overwhelming workload, making it easy for her to retain the information.

There was something about him living life at 300 kilometers per hour while maintaining the kindness and purity that defined him, and her dedicating her life to her studies, finding fulfillment primarily through her achievements that tied her down. Perhaps, deep down, those two worlds complemented each other, meeting between Grand Prix weekends and bonding over their wildly different interests.

“I don’t want to be nosy, but if you can, be quiet,” said the Spaniard into his mic, gripping the simulator wheel as he drove a road car on the Nürburgring.

“You know us—when we beat you, it’ll be anything but quiet.”

“Come on, she’s studying,” he smiled shyly into the camera, his eyes fixed on the screen, wearing blue-light glasses.

Corner after corner, the Spaniard proved to be the fastest, barely trailing one of the bots. Meanwhile, she repeated key concepts aloud, her table covered in textbooks, notes, and a forgotten mug of tea amidst the papers. Pepe’s plan to separate into two rooms was paying off; hours later, he emerged victorious from the tournament with his friends and colleagues, and she, when she felt his hands on her shoulders, had already studied a third of what she needed to prepare over the next two weeks.

“Fancy a little break?”

“It’s interesting how you get me to study and then do the opposite,” she smiled, jotting down a few last notes and turning to him, realizing she did need a break despite feeling like she could keep going.

“I didn’t do much today, so I might as well waste the last hours with you.”

“Waste your time with me?” she raised an eyebrow.

He nodded, teasing her with that special smile of his, before flopping onto the couch and motioning for her to join him.

“Bed to bed, couch to couch,” she sang, parodying Smooth Operator as she referred to their lazy day. The day before, he’d taken her on a lovely walk in a place he knew, and the next day, they were planning a day trip.

He shrugged, smiling, knowing full well he wouldn’t do anything productive anyway, and opened his arms for her to cuddle up beside him.

They spent some time in silence, her head resting on his chest, his hand gently stroking her hair as they both closed their eyes to rest. Then, as they often did, she opened the book she was reading in her spare time and accepted one of the earbuds Pepe handed her to listen to some music.

Sometimes, it was her playlist—eclectic and adaptable to any mood. Other times, it was his, secretly curated just for her. A mix of vintage tunes, songs they’d heard on trips, and new tracks she loved discovering while close to him and immersed in a good book.

As she recognized the notes of a song her dad often played when reminiscing about his younger days, she looked at Pepe, who was rubbing his eyes.

“For real?” she asked, feigning boredom, even though she was the first to love ’80s music and its vibes.

“Classic,” he replied, humming along as she chuckled, pulling her legs up and wrapping herself around his athletic frame.

“This part,” said the Spaniard as the second verse began.

This is the sound

Always slipping from my hands

Sand’s a time of its own

Take your seaside arms and write the next line

Oh, I want the truth to be known

“Makes me think of you,” he whispered.

Through every high and low, there was something that kept him going beyond his passion for racing. That something was seeing her smile under the podium or hearing her sweet words when he returned to the garage. Teaching her math, urging her to study when he knew she’d regret not doing so, and spending lazy days together at home.

What an incurable romantic.

~ not proofread or anything, I feel like I can't capture anything well anymore... anywayss let me know :)

(it's so shorttt)

[ashtxrie]

we stay locked in

— alternatively, enhypen as (my) high school classes!

PAIR. high school! enhypen x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. humor, high school au, blurbs WORD COUNT. 1.3k total NOTES. hello enhablr i am BACK. sorry guys this is alternatively known as a super self-indulgent enhypen as my classes this year so i don’t crash out in semester 2 post

이희승 — lee heeseung

philharmonic orchestra. he’s there for the vibes (and to fulfill his performing arts graduation credit requirement) but he’s secretly super invested in music theory. the type to say “i didn’t practice at all lol” the day of the audition but still eat that shi up anyway?? people tell him to stop the cap but honestly, he has the raw talent to pull it off as well so nobody really knows. he WILL be that person clocking people who use the restroom for the nth time in the middle of the firebird suite though, but man, sometimes people really do need that bathroom break for their mental and physical wellbeing. as his stand partner, he’s really good at covering for you if you make a mistake and even takes mutual blame for coming in early even though it was definitely your fault for taking a nap during your 5-measure rest... he’s that one student who gets to conduct the orchestra when the conductor is absent (or “sick” on a vacation to disney world) and the ensemble actually respects him enough to take him seriously.

박종성 — park jongseong

ap us history. we all know this man loves history; he would actually be the type to read the textbook for fun and not just search up summary pdfs or upload the whole dang thing to chat gpt! i feel like quizlet would be his best friend and would probably terrorize all his other friends to build their quizlet flashcard streaks with him. lowk he’s just in this class so he can flex random history facts on uninformed people I’M SORRY he secretly enjoys somewhat resembling the “umm actually!” meme. but honestly you go jay, being educated IS rightfully a flex. i feel like he’d actually talk to the teacher after class just to ask a clarifying question or just to confirm something totally random; he’d be like “was there really a u.s. entomological warfare field test called operation big itch?!” and the teacher would absolutely love him for that. on practice dbq days, he’s the best person to have on your team — you know you’re set when he gives you the look and little nod that communicates that he 100% got this. 

심재윤 — sim jaeyun

ap calculus bc... THIS MAN WILL GLAZE THE HELL OUT OF AP CALCULUS BC. just like how he is adamant about his physics glazing, math is no exception. tell me why he’s legitimately taking advantage of ten minutes at the end of class to get started on his homework? put that TI-84 AWAY and look me in the eyes. he’s the one classmate who’s super nonchalant and sporty and sits in the back of the classroom, but is secretly an academic weapon. “jake sim, wonderful work. you were the only one in the class who got 100.” HELLO??? good thing you always go over to him for a post-exam debrief, because he’s basically the answer key anyway. during class, he’d be quietly doing his own thing and joking around with the people around him, but the teacher lets it slide. everyone in the class is conflicted between loving and hating him, but he’s genuinely so nice and is always eager to help the people around him who need it — that still doesn’t stop the entire class from naming him their D1 opp though! 

박성훈 — park sunghoon

ap biology. the one who spites people who obliterate the curve. he’s also the best frq peer-grader though, he’s going off of vibes! if you mention anything remotely close to the answer key, you bet he’s giving you the point because people suffer enough already. sunghoon is surprisingly good at the labs though, he managed to not kill a single fly in the mendelian genetics lab and he’s super diligent at counting them too. your other lab mates had exhaled a bit too harshly one time and the sedated flies went FLYING across the lab table from under the microscope — you swear sunghoon’s eye twitched because he had JUST sorted them all by phenotype. he didn’t say anything to them though, and just started recounting the flies again because he’s just a chill guy like that. what people don’t know about him is that he actually scores high enough to potentially set the curve, he just chooses not to raise his hand when the teacher asks for top scores because he’s #taking one for the team. what a legend. 

김선우 — kim sunoo

advanced journalism. producing a newspaper? more like an excuse to know ALL the gossip and put everything under the name of investigative journalism. it’s literally his JOB to be on top of all the school events and the niche hobbies and passions that students have, and he absolutely loves it. combined with his social personality and strong writing, he’s for sure the editor of the “spotlight” category. and honestly, he’s the best the school has had in a long time. his feedback is always something to look forward to too — as one of his staff writers, your drafts are handed back with a colored pen circling a particular phrase you used, with the words “someone cooked here” or “OH YES GIRL” written in the margins. he brings the best food for after-school mandatory work days too, from donuts to chips to canned drinks — sunoo knows that the people need the snacks in order to gain enlightenment mid-article! his pages in the newspaper are also the most visually appealing too, this man knows how to use adobe indesign. 

양정원 — yang jungwon

ap english language and composition. with how diligently he uses duolingo, i have no doubts that jungwon will succeed in ap lang. imagine if he applies that study technique to memorizing rhetorical devices? he would be reading something completely random like the instagram terms of service and going “omg wait guys this is anaphora” like okay english king. and the effort he puts in shows in his results too. when jungwon checked his grades to see a 100% on the timed write while every one of his friends complained for a whole week about getting an 80, he knew he was locked IN. he participates a lot during class discussions too, so everyone knows who he is. as a fellow #taking one for the team legend, he always agrees to be the sacrifice to share out to the class the table group’s ideas. also — something not exactly english-focused, but he’s also so alarmingly good at time management. like how is he maintaining a solid sleep schedule and clear skin while watching alchemy of souls during his pomodoro breaks? the world will never know. 

西村力 — nishimura riki

ap chemistry. hear me out he signed up for this class thinking he could blow stuff up. he did not, in fact, get to blow stuff up all year — the blowing was done instead in the form of a huge blow to this man’s gpa. like what do you mean there’s solubility rules, polyatomic ions, vsepr geometric structures and their BOND ANGLES, plus gas law equations to memorize?! he went slightly delirious mid-semester and came up with insane, unhinged references just to drill all the content into his memory, from connecting acetate (CH3CO2-) to his “esteemed rizz mentor” heeseung (3 letter e’s in his name and he breathes out CO2!) and imagining his friends on a fucking seesaw to memorize the <90 and <120 degree bond angles. he tried explaining his logic to you (rapping out the equation for the van der waals real gas law?) and you just went along with it. he actually pulled through though with a B+ at the end of it all, but he swears to never have jake in charge of his course selection ever again. 

TAGLIST: @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia

[morosejackal]

The Cardinal Lifeblood

Had this cooking ever since I saw a post months back about the possibility of Blaze having a rival like how Sonic does with Shadow.

So here is my take on Sol’s little underwater facility secret: The Cardinal Lifeblood—Blink the Cat

I’ve written a little backstory for them below if it interests anyone, heh

Blue was the first color Blink had ever seen. It surrounded them in every direction. There was never a sky full of stars to sleep under, nor was there ever the bright light of the morning sun to wake to. The ocean was all they ever knew. That and their purpose. 

When Blink was allowed out of their chamber for the first time, their bare paws touched cold tile, their coat heavy with the liquid they’d been soaked in since their creation dripping into a puddle on the floor. Their creator looked them in the eye with an expression of awe. Blink hadn't been the first attempt in creating a perfected form of life. Blink’s creator, Director Enid Leclair had worked her entire professional career to achieve what she had only ever believed to be an unreachable dream, but when her efforts had paid off the moment those eyes opened to reflect hers, she knew she’d made history for the entirety of Sol.

The Cardinal Lifeblood breathes.

A sentient creature, one that could speak, listen, and perform. Stronger than any battery created— Blink was the newest battery to power The Keel, a facility deep below Sol’s oceans, the pinnacle of human advancements in science and engineering that resided on the seabed. It was comparable to that of an underwater city, untouchable like the myths in a storybook. It was the home to Sol’s many scientists, majority of them shunned by society for their participation and fascination with bioengineering. It was here that these individuals were tasked by Director Enid Leclair in creating a power source strong enough to maintain the entire system keeping The Keel running. They called it Operation Nightlight.

Blink’s DNA was composed of pure concentrated Sol Energy, taken from traceable remnants left behind in the aftermath of battles where the Sol Emeralds were used. It had taken years to develop what would become Blink, their DNA a complex code made from genetic engineering specialists. The prototypes before Blink had never developed appropriately, many never exceeding past stage three. After Blink was announced as the first to succeed, Operation Nightlight allowed The Keel of Seabed Enterprises to bloom into a large-scale production of new scientific discoveries and weaponry.

Blink was never allowed above the water’s surface for the years they were made to stay in The Keel. During their time in the facility they were trained daily to have control over their battery-like abilities, given pressure balancing rings to wear around their wrists called Venting Valves. They help Blink in maintaining normal levels of electrical activity within their body, that way they do not become so overwhelmed that they might explode. Blink received homework to educate them about what was above the ocean, and they were also taught defensive tactics in combat drills. They were often made to practice swimming outside The Keel to build up their endurance and focus, with their body able to withstand the water pressure so far down it also became Blink’s task to dislodge or fix any problems affecting The Keel’s outer shell that the humans couldn't do on their own. 

Life on The Keel wasn’t much better, but Blink had grown used to being treated as a tool. The scientists and workers that walked the halls were never too friendly with Blink; some ignored the cat completely. Director Enid was the only human who’d ever cared to speak with Blink like an actual person. Blink and Enid had a close relationship, one could say Enid was Blink’s mother from how she always asked Blink for their opinions on things or asked how she was— even the gifts Enid brought from the surface world to give to Blink were indicative of how much she cared for the feline. Blink might’ve felt alone and ostracized upon The Keel, but with the Director they felt at home. 

Until home was taken away. 

The Keel of Seabed Enterprises had been infiltrated. Blink had no clue what they could do, but upon seeing Enid being dragged down the hallway by what looked to be Sol’s imperial armed forces, the cat could do nothing but look on in horror. Enid had shouted something before she disappeared from sight, “I’ll be with you when the Sun rises, dear. I promise.”

And so Blink left behind the bodies of scientists and engineers, departing from The Keel and rising from the sea floor higher than they’d ever been. When they reached the surface of the rippling waves, they witnessed their first experience of the sky, took in their first breath of Sol’s air, and heard the sound of seagulls flying overhead. 

They saw their first sunrise.

Alone at sea.

[novvabee]

We Take Care of Each Other 🩹🌙

Summary: Remus x reader with chronic illness, just some cute and fluffiness with Remus. I just wanted to do a self indulgent fic with Remus to give those with chronic illness/disease some representation. ❤️

CW: mentions of chronic illness/disease, mentions of pain, mentions of sickness, swearing

word count: 1.9k

You woke up feeling like shit. Normally, you would deal with it and make your way to class, but today it didn’t feel like normal everyday shit, it felt like more serious shit. You tried to take some medicine and wait a couple minutes in bed for them to start working, but you could tell that if you didn’t go and see Madam Pomfrey, you would only get worse throughout the day.

So you pulled yourself out of bed, not bothering changing out of your sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, and slipped some shoes on. You made your way through the common room where you found your friends lounging on the couches and completing last minute homework. Mary looked in your direction and had to take a double take. 

“Oh, sweetheart, do you feel alright? You don’t look too good.” Mary said with concern. If your friends could tell you weren't feeling well, you must look like death. Usually, they can’t tell when you felt your normal levels of pain and sickness, but you obviously look as awful as you feel.

“Yeah you look like you got hit by a train.” Sirius said, glancing up from his hastily scribbled notes, no doubt for class in only a few minutes. He himself didn’t look like his normal self, he looked a bit pale and had bags under his eyes. He and the other boys must have stayed up getting into trouble last night.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk Black.” you chirped back at him. He winked playfully at you and you gave your friend a small smile back, even if you were in pain, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him a little bit. 

“It’s just one of those days,” you explained, now speaking to the whole group again. “I don’t think I can make it to class so, I’m gonna go see if Madam Pomfrey can help me in any way.”

“Oh honey,” Lily said looking sorry and concerned, “I’m so sorry, I’ll be sure to take notes for you.”

“Thanks Lils,” you smiled, making your way out the common room entrance. All your friends called after you a melody of “See you later”s and “Hope you feel better”s.

You started your journey to the infirmary and cursed whoever built the castle. However beautiful it may be, they were an asshole for putting so many stairs throughout it. You wondered how all the normal kids did it, having to go up and down and up and down all day long. One set made you out of breath and needing a minute to recoup.

You were grateful for magic in times like these. You could take some potions and feel a bit better, but no potion could take away your illness. Yes magic could cure the common cold or minor aches or even broken bones, and you heard that there was some development in a magical cure for blindness, but there was no cure, no potion or spell, that could change your genetics, your DNA, every fiber that made you, you.

At times you wish you were just like everyone else, but that isn’t you. You have pain and sickness and hard times, but you have learned to deal with it, overcome it.

You trudged up the final stairs to the medical wing, catching your breath for a moment before pushing open the infirmary door and stepping in, looking for the sweet motherly figure.

Madam Pomfrey was tending to another child at the end of the room. She looked up and once she saw it was you, she gave you that kind, warm smile that you were so used to. You had come to know her quite well, being in and out of the infirmary a lot, especially when you got sick or when the stress of tests and exams hit. She also frequently made potions for you to stop by and pick up to manage your pain and fatigue, a simple tweak to the common Pepperup potion, but you still appreciated it.

“Have a seat in the open bed dear, I’ll be with you in a moment.” she sang through the room. You nodded and headed to the open bed in the middle of the room.

You got yourself comfortable before the curtains  magically closed around the bed. You were thankful for the privacy, not needing everyone in Hogwarts to know that you were here again. It wasn’t necessarily their fault for being so ignorant, half of them don’t understand muggle illnesses, but it doesn’t make it any less hard. Some of your peers accused you of lying and pretending to be sick so that you could skip class, but that was the furthest thing from the truth, and all your professors knew that. You wished you could be like everyone else, be able to simply sit through a class normally without starting to ache or fall asleep because of how fatigued you were. 

You hated that people didn’t understand, but your friends tried their best to, even if they would never know the full extent, because it isn’t something they experience, but they do a great job. The only one who can relate to you and understands more than the others it seems, was none other than Remus Lupin.

Remus always stayed back with you, walked slower than the rest of your friends around the castle so that you wouldn’t feel like you were behind. He would give you his jacket in classes if you needed to use it as a pillow. He made sure to copy his notes for you when you were too ill to go to class. He was amazing.

You always thought that he knew what to do because he was like you, he experienced the same things as you. Of course, you never asked him about it, but there were times where things were very similar between the two of you. Sometimes he was the one in pain, needing a can to get around, he was a little slower up the stairs with you, he was the one falling asleep in class. You just assumed that maybe he had a similar story to yours, but you didn’t want to pry or be rude, so you just returned the favor to him, lent him your sweaters for pillows, walked slowly with him, offered up Pomfrey's special potion when he winced and grunted while standing up.

You felt that you two were much closer because of these shared experiences, and you were glad you had someone to lean on.

Madam Pomfrey whipped open the curtain and stepped in. “Hello dear,” She smiled at you, “What can I help you with today?”

“It's the usual.” you explained plainly.

“What is your pain level at right now?” she asked.

You thought for a moment. “Like… a seven?” you said. To be honest, you seven was someone else’s 11, but you were used to it so it didn’t feel that bad.

“Well that is too high for my liking.” She said, starting to mix up a potion for you. “How have you been sleeping lately?”

“Not great.” you admitted. “I can’t get myself to fall asleep and then when I wake up I feel more tired than I did when I went to sleep.”

She looked at you and frowned, worry written all over her face. “Well then you are in no shape to attend class.” you wanted to argue but once you opened your mouth to protest, to say that it was fine and you didn’t want your education to suffer, the conversation you and she had had a million times not, but before you could say anything, she cut you off with a look. “I don’t want to hear it miss Y/N.” she said, continuing to mix the concoction. “Everyone always says ‘school comes first’ but that isn’t the truth. Your body and your health come first. Always. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, still wanting to tell her that you were fine really.

“Darling, you need rest. That is the best thing for your body. Now, I am going to write to your professors saying you will not be attending class for the whole day.” she said. You looked at her with bewilderment. “That’s right,” she held firm, “You are prescribed bed rest and my potion.”

You still wanted to protest, but it felt nice to have someone in your corner looking after your best interest. If your mother couldn’t be here, she was the next best thing, and you genuinely felt that she cared about you and your wellbeing.

So you gave in and nodded. “Thank you Madam Pomfrey.”

“Of course my dear.” she said, finishing the potion and setting it on the bedside table for you. She smiled and exited, pulling the curtain shut behind her.

You barely had time to drink your potion and relax into your bed before the curtain opened again. You were met with none other than Remus himself. He looked how you assumed you looked at the moment; not the best. He was pale and looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. You thought earlier that the boys had been up all night causing mischief, but Remus looked in no state to be having any fun. He smiled gently at you, which you returned to him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he joked. You chuckled and felt the potion starting to work. You had seen Remus here countless times over all the years. Sometimes he was only here for a bit, sometimes he was there for much longer, Madam Pomfrey tending to him nonstop. You figured sometimes his condition was really bad.

No matter what, when your infirmary stays lined up, you two would recover together. Sometimes that meant hanging out and playing card games or reading next to each other or talking to pass the time, but sometimes that just meant knowing that the other was in the bed next to you, healing and recovering at your own speeds.

“Come here often?” you joked back.

“I overheard you were on bed rest for the day,” he said. You noticed his limp and figures it was a bad day for him as well. You nodded your confirmation to him. “Well, lucky for you, so am I.” 

Your smile broadened. 

Remus went to Madam Pomfrey to ask if he could move his bed right next to yours for company, and since you were both on bed rest and supposed to take a nap, it would be easier for her to check in on you both. 

Maybe it was because you two were her favorites, but she reluctantly agreed and moments later, his bed magically appeared next to yours, the curtains magically accommodated the new layout. Remus popped himself into his bed now next to yours, so close you could now rest your head on his shoulder, which you did. You felt his warmth beneath you and he rested his head on the top of yours.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Shit.” you answered bluntly to Remus. You always could be with him and he could be with you, one of your favorite aspects of your relationship with him.

He chuckled lightly, trying not to jostle your head around too much. “Yeah me too.” he said.

“You should sleep,” you said to him, yawning. “In the words of Sirius Black ‘you look like you got hit by a train’”

“He did not say that to you.” Remus said, disappointment at his friend laced in his tone.

“Oh yes he did.” you giggled.

Remus yawned as well. “Alright but you should too.”

“Ok, we’ll both sleep now so that we can shove Sirius down the stairs later and tell him that’s what the train feels like” you said mischievously. 

Remus giggled along with you. “That sounds like a plan.”

You both dozed off in the morning light, finally able to sleep now that the other was near.

Hi loves!! this one was really just a self insert for me cause I am going THROUGH it right now. but, if i can write something that only one other person can relate to, then I am so happy! ❤️

[ghoulsverse]

Chapter Ten: A New Normal

4.2k words | [Tags] more angst BUT, some fluff too

Chapter Index | Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Sometimes the scariest thing isn’t being unloved… it’s realizing you’ve been loved the wrong way all along.

The smell of cinnamon toast and burned coffee drifted lazily through the tower’s shared kitchen, with the late morning sunlight clinging to the ceiling. Inside, though, the Avengers were awake, just barely… and some? Deeply annoyed.

Aliah sat at the counter with her head leaning against her hand like it was the only thing keeping her sane.

Her breakfast plate sat untouched… eggs arranged like a smiley face that mocked her silently. A too organized planner sat beside it, open to a page titled “Curriculum Integration.” The words might as well have been written in blood.

“Seriously?” Aliah said, balancing a spoon on the edge of her cereal bowl. “If I have genetically enhanced DNA, shouldn’t I get a pass on standardized education?”

From across the kitchen island, Natasha didn’t look up from her tablet. “If you’re smart enough to argue your way out of school, you’re smart enough to do the homework.”

“That’s emotional manipulation.”

“That’s parenting.”

Wanda entered with a mug in one hand and a hopeful smile in the other, sleeves rolled up and damp curls framing her face from her morning shower. She looked like someone trying to manifest calm into a chaotic universe… one toast crumb at a time.

“I printed off your tutoring schedule.” She said cheerfully, sliding a few neatly stapled pages next to Aliah’s elbow. “We’re starting slow. History, algebra, and English for now. Just mornings. You still get afternoons free.”

Aliah stared at the packet like it contained classified Hydra documents. “Do I get a recess?”

“You get a fifteen minute break and a snack.”

“So... no?”

Natasha gave her a soft glare, almost daring the girl to make one more sarcastic comment. “You’re 15… Most kids your age are in school full time. Be lucky we’re keeping your afternoons free for training.”

Green eyes rolled again. “I don’t see how adding numbers and knowing how to write proper sentences is supposed to help me in the field.”

Maria, who had been sitting at the table on the other end from Aliah, her own tablet in hand, spoke up first. “If you want to go out into the field and take missions, you need to be able to do the paperwork. That requires learning proper sentences. Counting the ammunition you have left over while still fighting can save your life.”

“Okay, fine. But History?”

“Understanding your enemy’s motive and patterns based on the world’s past mistakes.”

Aliah dropped her head onto her crossed arms on the table and groaned. It made sense. But she didn’t have to like it.

Wanda just shook her head, chuckling. Mostly to distract herself from the gnawing feeling that keeps coming back when she’s in the same room as Natasha.

Vision appeared near the pantry, holding a cup of tea he had no biological need for.

“An established routine is critical to personal growth.” He offered politely. “I’ve found structured time blocks enhance not only discipline but emotional resilience.”

Aliah didn’t look at him. “I’ve found your voice enhances migraines.”

“Noted.”

Natasha almost snorted into her coffee.

Wanda did not.

“We all agreed on this.” She said, tone a little tighter now. “We want you to have a foundation.”

“Of what?” Aliah asked, flipping her spoon. “Colonialism and trigonometry?”

“Of opportunity.” Wanda replied. “Of choice. We want you to have a say in your future.”

“Cool.” Aliah muttered. “Then I choose not to do math.”

The elevator dinged.

A young man stepped out with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and the distinct air of a man who had absolutely no idea what he’d just walked into. Late twenties. Slightly rumpled. Wearing a badge that said S.H.I.E.L.D. Education Initiative and a tie that said “I tried.”

Aliah took one look at him and whispered to Natasha. “He looks like he apologizes when people bump into him.”

Natasha didn’t argue. “Be nice.”

“I am being nice. That was an observation.”

Wanda walked over and extended a hand. “You must be Agent Foreman. Thank you for coming in so early.”

“Happy to help.” He said, trying to smile past the existential dread creeping into his eyes.

Aliah stood and grabbed her binder with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner. “I go now to face my destiny.”

Vision stepped forward. “If you’d like assistance with note organization–”

Aliah held up a hand. “Please don’t say cognitive development again. I just ate.”

Natasha sighed. “Be good.”

“I’ll try.” Aliah said, already walking away. “No promises.”

Agent Foreman followed, glancing nervously over his shoulder like he half expected her to levitate him into the ceiling.

Wanda watched them disappear down the hall.

Natasha took a long sip of coffee. “Well. That went better than expected.”

“You mean she didn’t actually set anything on fire.” Wanda muttered.

“It’s a low bar. I’m proud of her.”

They stood in silence for a moment, letting the stillness settle in around them… the smell of toast, the soft clink of dishes, the momentary illusion of peace.

Wanda glanced over. “Thanks for backing me up.”

Natasha didn’t look at her. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know,” Wanda said softly. “But thank you anyway.”

Across the room, Vision hovered, watching the retreating hallway with clinical interest. “Social tension aside, her integration is progressing marvelously.”

Natasha’s jaw twitched. “She’s not a lab project.”

Wanda froze.

Vision blinked. “I meant no offense.”

“You never do.” Natasha muttered, grabbing her coffee and leaving the kitchen, following Maria to the elevator to discuss her last mission.

Wanda stood in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a mug that had gone cold.

The warmth of five minutes ago now felt like a set after the actors left… quiet, staged, and more fragile than it looked.

The quiet in the hallway wasn’t peaceful. It was like something waiting to snap.

Wanda walked slowly, hands full… a fresh mug of tea (because it felt necessary to have… something), a stack of borrowed books, and a soft blanket Aliah had tossed aside hours ago. She moved like someone playing house, like someone with amnesia trying to trigger a memory they don’t even have. Maybe she was.

Around the corner, Natasha was already there.

Leaning against the kitchen counter like always. Face buried in a physical paper file, boots planted. She wasn’t pacing. That would imply nerves.

She was standing still… which meant she was angry.

Wanda stopped short.

Their eyes met. Just for a moment.

Natasha’s gaze flicked to the mug in her hand.

“Going a bit hard on the tea today?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. “Just wanting something calm.”

“Sure.” Natasha said, turning back to her file but her tone was snarky.

Wanda’s jaw tightened. She moved past her without a word.

The kind of silence that had once been companionable between them… but now pulsed with tension.

“She’s doing better.” Wanda said at last, her voice calm but laced with something underneath.

“She likes History better than English.” Natasha said, still not looking up from her file, her tone sharper now. “Because it feels safe. We’ve made sure she feels safe. Because people show up for her.”

Wanda turned to her, one brow raised. “Is that supposed to be about me?”

Natasha didn’t flinch. “Should it be?”

The room had the soft, warm glow of sun at its peak and early afternoon stillness.

Wanda set the mug down on the counter, carefully. Like too much pressure might crack it.

Natasha stayed standing, hands on her hips.

“You keep saying you’re here.” Natasha said. “But you’re not really here. Not your whole self.”

Wanda folded her arms. “Is this about what I said? Because I’ve apologized almost a hundred times for that, Nat. I wasn’t thinking right and I shouldn’t have said it–”

“But you did.” Natasha said, moving closer. “You used the one thing I told you in confidence. Again.”

Wanda bristled. “And what would you like me to do? Get on my knees and beg for forgiveness? Cry over my mistakes?”

“No.” Natasha said, low and clipped. “I’d like you to act like someone who gives a damn about the people around her instead of pretending to be fine so she can avoid feeling anything.”

“That’s not fair–”

“What’s not fair…” Natasha cut in. “Is the way you walk through this place acting like it’s enough to just show up when you feel like it. You think kindness fixes everything? You think making tea will make you feel better?”

Wanda’s breath caught.

“I’m trying.” She said quietly. “I’m trying to be better.”

Natasha paused, long enough for Wanda to think maybe she’d step back. “Then why does it feel like we’re all stuck in the crossfire of whatever you have going on?”

Wanda blinked. “What?”

“You need to figure yourself out.” Natasha shook her head, voice cooler now, too calm. “You can’t keep using all of us as a way out for whatever it is that you’re feeling. I don’t know what you have going on that has you feeling upset, but it’s not my fault. We are not your emotional punching bags. It doesn’t work for her. And it sure as hell doesn’t work for me.”

There it was.

Too sharp to ignore. Too raw to smooth over.

The widow sighed and spoke again. “She’s young but she’s not dumb. She knows something is wrong.”

Wanda looked down, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of her sleeves.

Silence stretched between them.

Aliah’s laugh rang from the other room, soft and oblivious.

Wanda felt like she was breaking in reverse… not shattered, but folding. Slowly. Quietly.

“I’m doing my best.” She said, barely audible.

“Then maybe you should start doing better… For her sake.” Natasha said and walked out, not waiting to hear anything else.

Wanda stayed behind, staring at the hallway long after the door to Natasha’s room clicked shut.

In her hand, the tea had gone cold. Again.

Avengers Compound: Common floor - 8:24 pm

The common room still smelled faintly like floor polish and Thor’s burnt PopTarts (though no one would admit who ate them without permission). Moonlight streamed through the wide windows, spilling cool light over the couch where Aliah sat cross legged on the floor with a binder and a frown.

The girl wasn’t visibly angry… not in the explosive way Wanda had seen in the training room, but she was closed off. Her brow furrowed with focus, but her shoulders said something else: tension, frustration, maybe even a little resignation. Her pencil tapped against the paper, a slow, steady rhythm.

Wanda padded in quietly, carrying two mugs and a hopeful smile.

“Cocoa for the scholar.” She said softly, setting one down beside her.

Aliah looked up, blinking slowly. “I’m supposed to show my work.”

“You are the work.” Wanda teased, nudging the binder gently. “You’ve made it this far. I think you can handle a few equations.”

Aliah groaned, letting her head fall back against the cushions. “Can’t I just manifest the answers like I manifested the pen I lost last week?”

“You still haven’t found that pen.”

“I didn’t say it was a good manifestation.”

Wanda chuckled and sat beside her, tucking her legs underneath herself as she leaned in to scan the page.

Tony chuckled from his place on the couch and sat up, with his usual air of confidence. “Let’s see what ya got, Mini Maximoff. Pass it here.”

She chuckled and scooted her binder and journal close enough for him to see. I put on his glasses and looked at the math work in front of him. “Okay, let’s break it down. You’re trying to isolate for x here–”

But before he could continue, a calm, composed voice interrupted.

“I can assist.”

Vision stepped into the room with his usual impossible silence, clasping his hands behind his back as he approached. He tilted his head slightly at the worksheet, scanning it without needing to blink.

“I could create in world scenarios to help understand the numbers better. It might be easier to work through your problems that way if you would prefer?”

Aliah didn’t even look up. “Fine.” She said flatly.

She moved her pencil off the page like it had betrayed her, and leaned back into the couch, as if preparing herself to endure the lesson instead of participating in it.

Wanda watched the shift… subtle, but unmistakable.

Aliah, a girl who’d just made a joke about conjuring pens, now sat like a student bracing for a lecture she had no say in.

Still, she said nothing.

Vision sat down next to Tony on the couch, too close and too calm, gently adjusting the worksheet.

“Let’s begin with number six. This one’s interesting.”

Wanda stood up and stepped back. Too quickly.

From the other end of the couch, Natasha’s presence was quiet but felt.

Aliah kept her gaze low. Her fingers tensed slightly when Vision gestured to a line she hadn’t drawn yet.

Wanda noticed.

So did Natasha.

And when Vision finally stood, murmuring something about reviewing variables and "allowing the real world examples to sink in"... the silence he left behind was heavier than it should’ve been.

Natasha didn’t move.

Didn’t blink. She simply grabbed her empty cup from the table, ruffling Aliah’s hair before getting up under the guise of grabbing another drink.

She leaned towards Wanda on her way around and whispered tightly. “She’s more relaxed around people who breathe.”

Wanda turned sharply.

The comment wasn't meant to provoke.

But it landed.

Hard.

Wanda got up and followed Natasha to the bar, folding her arms. “He’s trying.”

Natasha let out a short breath… a laugh with no humor in it. “He’s trying to program a relationship. There’s a difference.”

“He’s part of this family.” Wanda snapped.

“Is he?” Natasha’s tone was soft, but not gentle. “Clearly she doesn’t want him to be. Why are you trying to force it?”

Wanda looked away. “Don’t.” She whispered. “Not now.”

“Then be honest.” Natasha said. “Not just with me. With yourself.”

She walked back to the couch, sitting behind the young girl, who was still groaning into her papers.

Aliah cleared her throat. “I still hate math, by the way.”

“Need help with question seven?”

Aliah nodded. “As long as it doesn’t involve vibranium or feelings.”

Natasha smirked. “My specialty.”

Wanda lingered by the bar, mug still warm in her hand, heart cold in her chest.

She didn’t speak again. Just watching as the rest of her found family accepted and welcomed Aliah.

The young girl didn't need to pretend she wasn't comfortable anymore. She didn't need to feel afraid.

Even if she's still learning who she is, she doesn't let that hold her back.

For a moment Wanda feels slightly jealous about it.

For a moment.

She spends the rest of the night stuck in her head, putting on a mask just long enough to say good night to Aliah before walking to her own room.

Wanda shut the door quietly behind her.

Not slamming it. Not locking it. Just… closing it. Like a person trying to hold herself together from the inside out.

The room was dark, the moonlight creating shadows across the carpet and furniture. She stepped out of her shoes and into the silence, setting the tea down on her nightstand with more force than necessary.

She wasn’t angry. Not really.

She just didn’t know what else to be.

“Wanda.” His voice was calm, even, perfectly modulated.

Vision was already in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed like he belonged there. Like nothing had shifted. Like the last few days… the tension, the cold looks, the silence hadn’t happened at all.

She startled, not because he scared her… but because she hadn’t noticed him there.

He smiled faintly. “I thought I might keep you company tonight.”

Wanda stayed by the door for a moment too long. Then crossed the room and sat in the chair near the window, not the bed.

Vision tilted his head, noting the distance. “You’ve seemed… off today.”

Wanda stared at the blinds. “It’s been a long day.”

He stood and walked to her slowly, pausing at her side.

“I understand you’re overwhelmed.” He said. “I want to support you. If there’s anything I can do–”

��You can’t.” She said, too fast.

He blinked. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Wanda shook her head, rubbing her temples. “Not just now. Not today. Just… in general.”

He moved back, giving her space.

“I know things have changed. But our foundation is strong. We’re connected and I hate the notion that you’re upset–”

“Stop.” She said, quieter now.

He froze. Not physically, but emotionally. The pause was palpable.

“I’m not a simulation.” She continued, voice fraying at the edges. “You keep saying the right things, but none of them feel right.”

He stepped forward again, gentler this time. “You’re grieving something.”

Wanda laughed… bitter, soft, cracked.

“I’m grieving us. Or maybe the idea of us. I don’t know. All I know is… when you touch me now, it doesn’t feel like anything.”

He sat on the edge of the bed again, hands folded.

“I’ve done everything I can to try to help you. I care for you.”

“I know.” Wanda whispered. “But I don’t think that’s enough anymore.”

There it was.

Not a scream. Not a sob.

Just the truth, spoken like a bruise that finally bloomed.

Vision nodded once. It wasn’t rejection. Not exactly.

Just understanding. The worst kind.

“You’re not just pulling away from me.” He said. “You’re pulling toward something else.”

Wanda didn’t respond. Because it was true.

She saw Aliah’s closed off posture when Vision sat too close.

She saw Natasha’s hands… the way they moved with care only when they thought no one was looking. She felt the tug… not love, not yet, but want. For a family that felt real.

Vision knew all of the right words to say, all of the things she liked, remembered everything.

But Natasha knew why she liked those things… knew when she needed them. All of the words coming out of Vision, she realized she wanted to hear from Natasha.

Not programmed. Not performed.

But she wasn’t ready.

She couldn’t be.

Change was dangerous.  Rejection was worse. And safety, even if it wasn’t right, was something she knew how to survive.

She stood, quietly. “I need to sleep.”

Vision rose but didn’t approach. “I’ll let you rest.”

He walked to the door, stopping just before opening. “If you need me–”

“I know.”

Then he left.

Wanda stood alone in the room, finally letting the quiet settle.

And for the first time in weeks… it didn’t feel like comfort.

It felt like grief.

“Aliah, for the last time, Napoleon wasn’t five feet tall,” Agent Foredman said, exasperated.

Aliah grinned from where she was half lounging on the arm of the couch, a notebook balanced on her knee. “Okay, but emotionally? He was five feet tall.”

The other tutor… a former analyst named Jessa with a no nonsense tone and multicolored sticky notes for every academic subject, rolled her eyes as she scribbled something onto Aliah’s lesson plan. “I’m putting that in the margins.”

“Great. History with personality.” Aliah replied, tossing a pencil into a mug and landing it.

Wanda stood in the doorway watching it unfold, the soft chaos of adolescent energy crashing against two very patient adults. The air smelled like hot cocoa and fresh highlighters. Her home hadn’t felt this lived-in in… years.

Jessa gave Aliah a break, standing to grab something from the kitchen. Agent Foreman followed with a muttered comment about caffeine being “a defense mechanism.”

Wanda stepped into the room as Aliah stretched her legs across the coffee table.

“You’re making friends.” She said softly.

Aliah blinked at her. “They’re tutors.”

Wanda tilted her head. “You like them.”

Aliah shrugged. “They don’t talk to me like I’m a test subject.”

Wanda sat in the chair across from her and nodded.

A beat passed.

And then it hit her.

That ache in her ribs. The way she’d watched Natasha guide Aliah’s training, or adjust her form with a hand on her shoulder, or laugh… not performatively, but deeply, when Aliah made one of her dry remarks.

It was longing.

She understood now. 

The sound of Natasha’s voice, muffled, in another room, floated in for a second before fading again. She wanted that. Not a hollow version of it. Not a projection.

She wanted them.

She had wanted Vision for what they could be together. But now Wanda wanted what she already had with Natasha.

The soft moments again, the little jokes and jabs that she and Natasha would throw back and forth with a smile on their faces. The moments when they would train together and Natasha would give her that signature smirk before rightfully winning their sparring match.

Even the moments when they were on the run, she missed. Huddled up in motel rooms and run down trailers, eating noodles from a cup while Natasha showed her her favorite Bond movies.

She wanted all of that back, but she wanted their daughter with them this time.

Their daughter.

Aliah glanced at her. “You’re staring.”

Wanda blinked. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Aliah narrowed her eyes. “Uh oh. About what?”

Wanda hesitated. Then she smiled, soft and small. “How lucky I am to know you.”

Aliah blinked, caught off guard. But she didn’t deflect. Not this time. Instead, she looked back at her notebook, then smiled softly. “Weird. But... thanks. I’m lucky too, you know.”

Jessa re-entered with tea and three different colored pens.

Foreman followed with the air of a man already emotionally bruised by an hour of tutoring a Hydra grown teenager with sarcasm powers.

And Wanda sat on the edge of the moment, feeling more like a ghost than a mother.

Because for the first time, she understood what she wanted.

The kitchen was dim, lit only by the under cabinet lights and the soft gold of the setting sun. Natasha stood at the counter, peeling the label off a bottle of mineral water. She wasn’t drinking it… just holding it, turning it in her hands like it might offer answers if she was patient enough.

Wanda stepped in quietly. Not sneaking. Just careful.

They hadn’t spoken much since the other night after Aliah’s first day of lessons.

Since… everything.

Natasha glanced up, her expression unreadable.

Wanda opened the fridge, grabbed nothing, and closed it again. She wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t even sure why she came in here… except that she always ended up here when she didn’t know where else to go.

Natasha let her linger. She grabbed the pot of hot water that she had used before for coffee. Pouring the hot water into a mug and placing a pack of cinnamon tea in it before sliding it towards Wanda.

An olive branch.

Wanda blinked. “Thank you.” She said, just above a whisper.

Silence settled again.

But this one was different.

She looked at Natasha… really looked, and something ached behind her ribs.

The way her eyes caught the light. The way she always stood like she was ready to walk away, even when she didn’t want to.

How many times had Wanda seen her like this?

How many times had she ignored it?

“I really am sorry.” Wanda said.

Natasha blinked. “For what?”

“For not being ready.”

Natasha nodded. Once. Slowly.

Then turned back to the counter, voice flat.

“Don’t say sorry if nothing’s going to change.”

Wanda stood still. She wanted to say something… wanted so badly to close the space between them. To say it. Whatever it was.

But fear clawed faster than clarity.

And she did nothing.

Behind them, the New York city lights shimmered behind them. A soft crackle echoed faintly down the hallway… Aliah’s records.

Natasha placed a comforting hand on top of Wanda's that was holding the mug. She didn't say anything else, she didn't need to.

No matter what was going on and Wanda's head, no matter the hurtful words that they could throw at each other, or even the physical punches that they would throw during sparring matches… The widow would always be there for her.

Perhaps a bit more guarded now, maybe even a little irritated. But she would always wait with open arms if Wanda ever needed, or asked.

Nat let her hand fall away before taking her own mug of coffee and walking back to her room. There was no slam of a door, not even the soft click of someone trying to make sure they didn't wake anyone else up.

All Wanda could do was stare at the place where their hands had touched. Wishing to whoever would listen that Natasha had stayed, or that she could have courage.

That would be a fight for another time, when she was ready.

She took her still steaming cup of tea to the couch in the living room, curling up in the corner and throwing a blanket over her legs before turning on the TV. More so just needing background noise than actually looking for anything to watch.

One day, when she could figure out everything going on in her own mind, this would truly be her life. Calm. It wouldn't feel like she was pretending to be someone she isn't.

As Wanda curled her hands around her mug of tea, she blew softly before taking a sip and staring out the window. Looking to the stars for answers.

It tasted better somehow.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

I am so sorry this chapter took so long to post, I finished moving and then immediately went on a road trip. XD

Taglist: @seventeen-x @tobiaslut @doyouseethewords @ima-gi--na-tion

Don't forget: I made a playlist for this series! :) > Series Playlist <

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles

chapter 4: lord of the lies

series | previous chapter | next chapter

“Tomato soup or chicken soup?”

“Well which one is cheaper?”

“Tomato.”

“Get that one then.”

“Have I ever told you that you're sooooo incredibly helpful?” Lyla mutters out, pushing the grocery cart as you stumble behind texting on your phone. You’re barely looking at where you’re walking as you text your mom.

Today, you had 2 missed calls that you genuinely missed. One occurred whilst you were on your shift and the other whilst you were in a lecture. Currently, you were relaying your excuses to your mother and failing to convince her that you were completely fine at college.

“Right, we need some yogurt and eggs.” Lyla announces, searching around for the specific aisles.

“Uh-huh.” you say absentmindedly, your neck still craned down to your phone. Due to this, you miss Lyla’s smirk as she peers over at you.

“And we also need an inflatable pool and trampoline for our backyard.”

You hum again, thumbs working at double speed.

“Girl, we don’t have a backyard. You really aren’t listening are you?” Lyla sighs. You hum again, still distracted. “You know what? I’ll just meet you at the checkout.”

You raise your head to look at your roommate, finally listening. “Right, we could do that.” You begin to walk over to another aisle to get some personal stuff for yourself before your phone rings.

Reading the caller ID, you internally panic at the sight of your mom calling you. Obviously by now she must be sick of texting you, wanting to hear your voice instead. Looking around, your brain goes haywire in trying to think of an excuse. After a few seconds, you reluctantly give in and swipe to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Oh, what a miracle! My daughter finally answers the phone after ignoring me for almost a month!”

The sarcastic tone of your mother, echoes loudly in your ear. You wince as you beg to speak but she interrupts you.

“It’s barely been a month mom–”

“And you barely stay on the line for more than 2 minutes when I call you.”

“I'm just a little busy, I swear.” You grimace as you speak.

“You’re not having trouble paying rent are you? Because if you are then I could ask Uncle Robert for some money. Or is it trouble finding a job? Honey, if you’re having any problems–”

“I’m not having problems mom. I’ve found a job and I’m paying the rent just fine.”

Your mother ignores your reassurances, her intonation high in stress. “Is your roommate nice? Are they clean? Tidy? Have manners?”

“Yes, yes and yes. She's great.”

“Listen, I know you’re sick of me calling you but I just wanted to know that I– well we — get worried about you sometimes. You’re so far away from me and–”

“I know, I know and I promise to call more…I’m just really busy, y’know with work and shifts and lectures and homework and…”

“I’m sure you have time in your day to call me honey, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“I really don’t–”

“I hear all these stories about college kids getting up to no good and I just get so worried that you’ll get caught up too—”

“I’m really not—”

“Is that why you don’t call me? Because you’re out with bad people?”

“What?” You frown at her comment. How the fuck did she jump to that conclusion? ”Mom, no I’m not with bad people. In fact I’ve made some really good–”

“You just need to tell us if there’s a problem because clearly there is one if you’re not calling me as frequently.”

“Mom–” you can barely get a word in edgeways as she interrupts. You hastily avoid people in the supermarket aisle, becoming increasingly frustrated and overwhelmed in a matter of seconds.

“Just be honest sweetheart, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“Mom will you just listen to me—” you attempt to speak, your tone becoming even more desperate as you simultaneously try to make your way past a crowd of people shopping. Why the fuck does everyone and their mother choose to go shopping at this store right now?

“I’m here for you darling, if you ever want to drop out of college–”

“Mom, I have a boyfriend okay?”

“What?”

You pause in the middle of the candy aisle, unable to ignore all the halloween candy already up on sale. A beat of silence passed on the phone. You pulled a face, full of absolute disgust at the words that you had just said aloud to your mother. Your mouth was agape, unable to give a reply.

You swallowed thickly, your mind still panicking.

“What did you say?” your mother questioned.

Yep. You were in it now. No take backs.

“I–I have a boyfriend.” you repeat, your voice shaking. You weren’t even aware of what you were saying anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“It– it all just happened really fast.” you blurted out.

“Is he a good guy?”

“Uhh–yeah, yeah.”

“What’s his name honey? Oh! You can bring him over for us to meet at thanksgiving!”

Shit.

“What was that honey?”

“Nothing Mom.” you pull another face at her almost hearing you curse. The next words leave your mouth in a flurry of unintelligible language.

“Ineedtogonowmom,I’llcallyoutomorrow.”

“Promise me.” she quipped quickly before you could hang up.

“I promise.” Was that another lie? You can’t tell anymore at this rate.

“Okay, stay saf–” You hit the hang up button before she can finish.

Shit. Shit. Shit. What the fuck did you just do?

Your body is frozen. You're standing in the middle of the aisle, unable to comprehend what you have just done. People merely walk past you and you’re only brought back to reality by the sound of Lyla’s voice.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve just committed the worst crime on the planet.” If lying to your mother ever counted as the worst crime of humanity then you deserve to be punished for the rest of your life.

“I’m fine. Did you need anything else?” You changed the subject as soon as possible. Not just for Lyla’s sake of not catching on but also for your own. You need a distraction from what had just happened.

“I think we’ve got everything, unless you still have stuff that you still need to grab?”

You shake your head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lyla raises a brow, a concerned look appearing on her face.

“M’fine.”

“Let’s go to the checkout then shall we?”

You’re left trailing again this time instead of your phone, you’re distracted by the thoughts that were running through your head.

How the fuck are you going to get out of this one? And where the fuck are you going to get a boyfriend from? You’ve completely dropped yourself in a lie that you cannot physically maintain.

You watched on silently as Lyla began to pack on the items onto the checkout treadmill. Anxiously, you chew at your nails, running over the conversation with your mother once more.

Oh god, oh god, why did you say that? You’re so stupid, stupid, stupid—

“Looks like you’re having a good day so far.”

Immediately you’re coaxed out of your thoughts by the sound of a stranger's voice addressing you. It was the till worker.

“Huh? Oh me? I–”

“I was joking by the way. You do not look like you’re having a good day at all.” The man points out, swiping the items.

“I agree.” Lyla hums, packing the shopping items. Suddenly you felt useless, looking around for things to do. Anything to get this attention away from you. The till worker seemed to be young, around your age you’ll assume.

Glancing down at his namepin, you squint to see the bold text say ‘Peter’.

“I mean I’ve been having a pretty bad day myself. First, I got in late because my alarm didn’t go off because my phone died. I mean I have no idea why my battery always runs out when they release a new version of the phone, it’s stupid really. And then I dropped cans of beans on my foot whilst stocking which hurt like a total bit–”

“Oh god, that happened to me once.” Lyla interrupts.

You frown. “When has that ever happened to you ly’?”

“I was in Mexico–”

Peter suddenly gasped, scanning through a pack toilet roll. “You know my roommate Miguel actually–

“Miguel?” You blurt out suddenly.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

You freeze, the eyes of your roommate and the cashier now on you.

“Something like that. But uh– of course you might be talking about a completely different person.” you awkwardly chuckle. You hoped to the heavens above this was not the Miguel that you were thinking of.

Peter frowns. “Is he tall and mean?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yep, that's him then.”

“Oh god, you won’t believe what he did to her–” Lyla begins before you slap a hand across her mouth. Peter raises a brow quizzical, pausing his movements.

“Nothing! He’s done absolutely nothing. He’s a great guy.” You lie through clenched teeth.

Peter studies the two of you before swiping through the last few items. You quickly pack them into your bags hoping that Peter will brush off the weird behavior from the two of you. Lyla stares at you for your weird behavior, wondering why you had lied but she picks up on the signal and decides to say nothing more. For now.

And thankfully Peter does move on. “Yeah, he really is a great guy. I mean once you’ve survived the grumpy side of him that is, but I think he’s beginning to show off his sweet spot now. He didn’t even snap at me this morning, so that’s a good sign right? Compared to last week he was reallyyyy pissed off and I have no idea why— oh, that’s it, your total is $35.71.”

Lyla rummages for her purse and your hand is removed.

“That’s great, that’s really great to hear.” You say almost robotically. Deep down, you begin to wonder how a guy like Miguel copes with Peter. They’re practically opposites.

“You’re a first year right?” Lyla asks, tapping her card on the reader.

Peter hums, “Studying biochem. How about you?”

You barely listen to the conversation between Lyla and Peter as they both gush about… STEM things. You think you’ll have to forcefully drag Lyla away before she starts talking about her coding club again.

“Hey, you work in that cafe on campus right?”

You’re caught off guard when Peter asks you this question. Unfortunately you make it clear enough that you were not listening to the conversation. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” You cringe internally, thinking that perhaps Miguel has already told the story of your horrible barista skills. You can picture it already, the two of them laughing at it on the couch together, mocking—

“I rarely see you in the cafe…” you point out, shaking your head subtly as if to physically get rid of that vision.

“Oh.” Peter murmurs, a shade of pink beginning on his cheeks which lead to the tips of his ears. “MJ serves me most of the time so…” He avoids eye contact with you, drawing up the receipt for Lyla.

Ah. You’re quick to get it. He’s got a crush.

“Well it was nice to meet you Peter, feel free to come join us at Coding club.” Lyla reiterates. “Every wednesday 6pm, the computer suite!”

“Noted.” Peter does a little salute at her.

Lyla’s already making her way out of the store and you’re not far behind until you abruptly come to a halt.

Turning around, you swiftly make your way back to Peter before he serves the next customer.

“Hey Peter, can I ask a favor from you?”

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!