#they share a brain cell and a heart string

[breeberrypies]

If I only had a brain

If I only had a heart

[jungkoode]

Strings Attached (to my heart)

→ PAIRING : Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: January 20, 2025.

→ GOAL FOR PART 2: 1000 notes. ✔️ NEXT

→ SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

→ TAGS : second person perspective used, female pronouns used, college au, spider-man au, noona kink, slight age gap (he’s 21, she’s 24ish), dry humping, virgin jungkook, first time, inexperienced jk, creaming his pants, sexual content, explicit content, library smut, clothed getting off, breast play, grinding, praise kink, crying during sex, crying after sex, embarrassment kink, humiliation kink, slight dom reader x sub jungkook, size difference, pining, jungkook has a big fat crush on you, secret identity, touch starved, protective jungkook, closet sexual activities, desperate jungkook, gentle domming, aftercare, emotional intimacy, fluff and smut, Korean setting, university setting.

→ PLAYLIST: set the vibes.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

→ A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome to my first attempt at a Spidey!JK AU, where he somehow manages to be an even bigger mess than Peter Parker 😭. This story is very close to my heart because it dives into the dynamic between a confident noona and her adorably flustered freshman—who just so happens to be Seoul’s clumsy new superhero. To be honest, this Spiderkook oneshot was heavily inspired by Tangie, aka @rpwprpwprpwprw (love you bb!!!). I’d been lowkey daydreaming about Spiderkook for ages but thought, “Nah, that’s too silly.” Then I discovered there’s an entire community sharing the same brain cell as me??? Like, you’re welcome for my service, I guess?? Originally, this was supposed to be a short, smutty 5k romp. But do you think I can write smut without plot? I CAN’T. IT’S A MEDICAL CONDITION. Now it’s a 12k beast with feelings, webs, and chaos. Sorry (but not really). If you enjoy this, I might turn it into a mini-series because, let’s be honest, spider powers in… certain scenarios… sound very intriguing. Hihihi. Hope you enjoy this mess I’ve unleashed on the world! 🕸️

Edit: also, yeah. Tae is older than Jimin and Jungkook here because my sleep deprived brain slapped a ‘hyung’ on Jimin’s mouth and I’m not editing again. (≖͞_≖̥)

The thing about Spider-Man is that he reminds you too much of a certain freshman.

A freshman named Jeon Jungkook who keeps hovering around the journalism building with his messy hair and his wide eyes and his endless supply of convenience store snacks.

You've been telling yourself it's just a coincidence. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when they're flustered. It's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

Maybe that's why you're hiding in August Coffee, your usual spot tucked away in one of Sinchon's winding side streets.

The late autumn breeze carries the scent of roasted coffee beans through the open window, and your laptop screen glows with half-finished articles and interview transcripts. Your notebook lies open beside a rapidly cooling americano while the café's jazz playlist provides a gentle backdrop to your furious typing. You're on a deadline for tomorrow's paper, and the last thing you need is—

A flash of red and blue swings past the window.

You pretend not to notice. Maybe if you focus hard enough on your screen, he'll take the hint and—

"Noona!"

—of course he doesn't.

There he is, hanging upside down outside the second-floor window, the eyes of his mask wide and eager. A plastic convenience store bag dangles from his hand, swaying in the autumn wind. Several patrons are already pulling out their phones, and you can feel your carefully cultivated productivity slipping away.

"No," you say firmly, not looking up from your laptop.

"But noona—" His voice cracks on the honorific, and you absolutely refuse to find it endearing. "I haven't even said anything yet!"

"I'm working." You take a pointed sip of your americano, grimacing when you realize it's gone cold. Perfect. "Some of us have actual responsibilities, Spider-Boy."

"I brought you snacks!" He awkwardly maneuvers through the window—you're not sure if the owner keeps it open for him specifically or if he's just that persistent. "You know, the ones you like with the matcha filling? The new ones from that fancy Japanese brand?"

You pause, fingers hovering over your keyboard. "How do you know I like the ones with matcha filling?"

"Uh—" Even through the mask, you can tell he's flustered. His hands fidget with the plastic bag. "Lucky guess? Not that I know you, noona. Uh, I mean, you look like a noona. Not that I know for a fact you're a noona—"

"Stop talking." You pinch the bridge of your nose, painfully aware of the phones still recording this interaction. This will definitely end up on some university Instagram page later. Again. "You're making it worse."

He deflates slightly, shoulders hunching in that familiar way that reminds you too much of a certain someone who keeps "accidentally" running into you at the journalism building. The same one who somehow always knows your coffee order and brings you snacks you oh so casually mention fancying—

No. You're not going there. You're not connecting those dots, because connecting those dots leads to complications you absolutely don't need in your final year.

"I can leave if you want," he offers, but he's already approaching, placing the snacks on your table with careful precision. "But you've been here for four hours, and you always forget to eat when you're working on a big story."

You stare at him. "How do you know how long I've been here?"

"I, uh—" His mask's eyes widen comically. "Spider-sense?"

"That's not how spider-sense works."

"You don't know how my spider-sense works! Maybe it's... hungry-noona-sense?"

A laugh escapes before you can stop it, and you quickly cover it with a cough. "That's the worst excuse you've come up with yet."

"Yet!" He perks up. "So you're keeping track?"

"Go away." You open the snack bag anyway, pretending not to notice how he straightens up eagerly when you do. "Don't you have a city to protect or something?"

"Seoul can handle itself for ten minutes while I make sure my favorite n—while I make sure hardworking journalists eat properly."

You raise an eyebrow at the slip, and he fidgets under your gaze. "Your favorite what?"

"Nothing! No one! Just, you know, doing my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man duties. Very friendly. Very neighborly. Nothing specific or personal about it at all."

You bite into one of the matcha-filled snacks—they're fresh, which means he must have bought them recently. Specifically for you. Just like how a certain freshman keeps bringing you fresh triangle kimbap from the convenience store near your morning lecture hall...

No. Stop it. You're not doing this.

"Sit down," you sigh, pushing the chair across from you out with your foot. "And stay quiet, or I’ll kick you out."

He practically collapses into the chair, bag already placed on the table. You notice his hands shaking slightly, and something in your chest tightens.

You shouldn't find it endearing. You really, really shouldn't.

But then again, you probably shouldn't find anything about this situation endearing — a masked vigilante bringing you sweets in the middle of your favorite cafe, stammering through excuses that sound exactly like the ones Jungkook uses when you catch him "accidentally" walking the same way as you after class.

You really need to stop noticing these things.

You try to refocus on your notes after that, but it's hard—mostly because Spider-Man is still sitting there. Quietly. Staring.

And not in a "just glancing around the cafe" kind of way, either. No, he's full-on watching you, eyes darting between the scribbles in your notebook, the crumbs on your plate, and, worst of all, your face. Like you're the most fascinating thing in the world. Like he's never seen someone drink a mediocre americano and type furiously into Google Docs before.

It goes on for five minutes. Five full, agonizing minutes of silence, punctuated only by the occasional click of your keyboard and the muted sounds of espresso machines in the background.

Finally, you sigh, your fingers pausing mid-typing. "Don't you have better stuff to do?"

"No." The response is immediate. Too immediate. His tone is absurdly casual, like the very idea that Spider-Man—the literal defender of Seoul—could have anything more important than sitting in August Coffee and bothering you is completely ridiculous.

You raise a brow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No supervillains to fight? No cats stuck in trees? Nothing?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "Pretty quiet day."

You shake your head and turn your attention back to your laptop. "Must be nice."

There's a pause. You can feel him shifting in his seat, the chair creaking slightly under his weight, and when he speaks again, his voice is just shy of hesitant.

"How are the pastries? Do you like them?"

Your fingers freeze over your keyboard. Slowly, you turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes.

"You didn't spit in them, did you?"

"Wha—no!" he sputters, his whole posture stiffening in obvious horror. "Why—why would I—noona, I would never spit in your pastries!"

You let him sweat for a second longer, just to amuse yourself, before breaking into a small, satisfied smirk.

"Relax, Spider-Boy. I'm kidding." You reach for the bag of snacks he brought. "Yeah, they're good. Wanna try?"

His eyes widen a little—well, as much as they can through that mask—and he seems to hesitate, like he's not sure if you're serious or trying to bait him again. You wave one of the pastries in his direction. He glances at it, then back at you, before finally nodding.

"Okay. Yeah, sure."

You watch as he carefully rolls his mask up just to his nose, revealing his mouth for the first time. You don't know what you expected, but… it's a good mouth. Maybe annoyingly good, given how little you want to admit that very obvious fact to yourself. Full lips, slightly pink, with just the faintest hint of nervousness as he bites at his bottom lip before leaning forward.

He takes a bite of the pastry you're holding out to him, and the pleased groan he lets out immediately makes you regret offering him anything at all.

"God, that's delicious," he mumbles around his mouthful, crumbs falling onto his suit. He barely finishes chewing before continuing. "Now I know why you like them so much. I mean—why people say they're so good. Not you specifically. Just, you know, people."

You snort, shaking your head as you turn back to your laptop. "You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible bossy noona," he mutters, mostly to himself, stuffing the rest of the pastry into his mouth before leaning back in his chair.

You're about to toss another sarcastic remark his way when something catches your eye. Or, more specifically, half of something. A small smudge of green—matcha filling, you realize—lingering on the corner of his mouth.

It's instinctive, the way your hand moves—completely unthinking, like muscle memory kicking in before your brain has a chance to catch up. One moment, you're perfectly stationary in your seat; the next, your thumb is brushing against his lip, swiping the smudge away with a gentle, practiced motion.

He startles at the touch, his whole body jerking slightly as his eyes snap to yours. And then, just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your hand freezes midair.

His mouth parts for half a second, like he's about to say something, but then his tongue darts out—slow, deliberate—to lick the exact spot your thumb had just brushed.

You snatch your hand back like you've been burned, your face heating despite yourself.

The silence that follows is awful. Deafening. Inescapable.

He shifts in his chair, his eyes flickering to the table, then back to you, then down again. He clears his throat—once, then twice—before adjusting the edge of his suit with what you can only describe as frantic energy.

"So… uh…" His voice is tight. Way tighter than usual, cracking slightly on the first syllable. "Thanks for that. The, uh. The whole… lip thing. That was. Uh. Cool."

You blink at him, deadpan. "Cool?"

"Yeah. Cool. Totally normal and cool. Happens all the time. Super casual."

If you weren't so flustered yourself, you'd have laughed at the way he's fidgeting in his seat, his hands gripping his thighs under the table like he's trying not to explode.

"Right," you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. "Casual."

"Exactly."

He nods a little too enthusiastically, and you notice his knees bumping against each other under the table before he quickly crosses his legs. His hands drop to his lap almost immediately after, like he's trying to adjust the spandex near his thighs.

Your gaze is momentarily drawn there before—

"Anyway!" The word comes out nearly an octave higher than it should. He's already standing—or, more accurately, bolting to his feet—his hands still awkwardly hovering in front of him. "I should, uh, get going! Supervillains don't wait, you know? Gotta, uh… save the people of Seoul. Yeah. Big hero stuff."

You stare at him, unblinking, as he starts inching toward the door. "Uh-huh."

"Thanks for the pastries, noona! Great talk, as always!" He clears his throat again, audibly struggling to keep his voice steady. "Okay! Bye!"

And then he's gone, practically sprinting out of the cafe before he can embarrass himself any further.

You sit there for a long moment, still frozen, your brain catching up to what just happened. Then, slowly, you reach for another pastry.

Whatever just happened? Definitely not your problem.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

Jungkook's voice is muffled by his hands, currently covering his face in what can only be described as unrelenting shame. He's lying on Jimin's couch, legs splayed out haphazardly, the picture of a man defeated by his own existence.

Across the room, Jimin raises an eyebrow, lazily popping another chip into his mouth. The bag crinkles loudly, much to Jungkook's dismay. "It's not that bad, Kooks. She probably didn't even notice."

Jungkook groans, dragging his hands down his face until his eyes peek out dramatically between his fingers. "She 100% noticed. It was—like—a five-minute interaction. FIVE minutes, and I made it weird. Now she's gonna think I'm a fucking weirdo and a creep."

Jimin doesn't even try to hide the snort that escapes him, his expression somewhere between entertained and unimpressed. "Yeah, because stalking her as Spider-Man didn't have her thinking that already."

Jungkook bolts upright on the couch, eyes wide with panic. "She told you that?!"

Jimin chokes on his chip, wheezing as he waves his hand for Jungkook to calm down. "No! Shit, man, calm down. I'm just saying. Like, I guess? I mean, you do kind of… hover. A lot."

"I don't hover," Jungkook protests, indignant. But even as the words leave his mouth, he hesitates. "Do I hover?"

Jimin gives him a look.

Jungkook groans again, flopping back onto the couch like his limbs have given up on life. "Oh my god, you're right. I hover. I'm that guy. And now it's worse because who the fuck pops a boner from someone—" He pauses, embarrassingly aware of the words about to leave his mouth. "—touching their lip? What is wrong with me? I must be insane. She must think I'm insane."

Jimin, now thoroughly entertained, leans back in his chair with his bag of chips, one leg crossed over the other. "I mean... it's not great," he says unhelpfully, though there's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jungkook lets out a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and buries his face back into his hands. "She's never gonna look at me the same. I probably freaked her out. GOD, she's gonna think I'm some kind of pervert. Or—worse—she's gonna avoid me completely now. And then I'll never see her again. And then—"

"Okay, okay," Jimin interrupts, holding up a hand to stop whatever spiral Jungkook's about to drag them into. "First of all, she offered to share her snack with you, so I don't think she's avoiding you anytime soon."

"But that was BEFORE—"

"Second of all," Jimin continues loudly, ignoring Jungkook's interjection, "maybe just... stop calling her 'noona' every chance you get? It's not helping your case."

Jungkook frowns, peeking out from behind his fingers again. "What's wrong with calling her noona? That's respectful!"

"Yeah, but it's also kinda... you know," Jimin winces, waving a hand vaguely. "Weird, coming from you. Like, you're already bumbling around her like a lost golden retriever. Adding 'noona' into the mix just makes you look—what's the word?"

"Adorable?" Jungkook tries hopefully.

"Pathetic," Jimin finishes, deadpan.

Jungkook groans for what feels like the millionth time, throwing his head against the couch cushion. "Why do I even talk to you? You're supposed to make me feel better, hyung. Not worse."

"Hey, I'm here for the truth," Jimin says, pointing at him with a chip in hand. "You want a cheerleader, go call Taehyung."

"Taehyung's just gonna laugh at me," Jungkook mutters into the cushion.

"And yet, you're shocked I'm doing it too."

Jungkook mumbles something unintelligible, his face half-smashed into the cushion now as he replays every excruciating detail of his interaction with you earlier. The way your thumb had brushed his lip. The way he'd immediately been unable to control the—well, reaction. The way he'd panicked like an idiot, stammered something incomprehensible, and practically bolted out of the cafe without even finishing his sentence.

"Kill me," he says dramatically, still face-down in the cushion. "Just end me. I can't show my face again."

Jimin laughs, leaning forward to pat Jungkook's shoulder in a way that's more mocking than comforting. "Relax, man. You'll survive. Just... maybe keep your hormones in check next time, yeah?"

Jungkook flips him off blindly, his hand waving somewhere above his head.

"Love you too, Spider-Menace," Jimin quips, taking another chip like this is the best entertainment he's had all week.

The crunching sound of Jimin biting into another chip is loud enough to make Jungkook groan into the couch again. "Do you ever stop eating?" Jungkook mutters, his voice muffled by the cushion.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, unbothered, and is about to throw a smartass reply back when his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at the screen, sees Taehyung's name, and shrugs, casually placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he picks up without pausing his snacking.

"What's up?" Jimin hums lazily, chips still in hand, completely ignoring Jungkook's existential crisis unfolding just feet away from him.

Jungkook's ears perk up despite himself—because why else would Taehyung be calling Jimin right now? He lifts his head just enough to peek over the cushion, his hair mussed and sticking up in odd directions.

Jimin's expression doesn't change at first, eyes still fixated on the bag of chips in his lap as he listens. "Yeah, he's with me," he says vaguely, gesturing aimlessly toward Jungkook, who frowns at being referred to like some stray dog Jimin found.

But then Jimin freezes. His chewing slows. His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline as Taehyung says something that causes him to do a violent double take at Jungkook.

"What?" Jimin coughs, choking on the chip he was mid-swallow. He pounds his chest a little before leaning forward sharply. "He—what? What, what, what—? Tae, calm down—!"

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks, sitting up now, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at Jimin's sudden change in tone.

Jimin waves him off with a quick flick of his hand, signaling for him to shut up. "No, yeah. Yeah, no, I know," Jimin mumbles into the phone, his tone getting increasingly more exasperated as he listens. "Tae—okay? Can you just—okay?"

"What's wrong??" Jungkook asks again, panic creeping into his voice. He hates not knowing what's going on, especially when Jimin looks... concerned? Flustered? Whatever it is, it's not good.

Jimin twists his head toward Jungkook, eyes narrowing as he motions aggressively with his entire head for Jungkook to shut the hell up.

"Okay, let me— what? You wanna talk to him?" Jimin repeats, his voice pitching higher in disbelief. "Oh, now you wanna talk to him? Fine! Okay, okay, okay, here."

Before Jungkook can process what's happening, Jimin is all but shoving his phone into Jungkook's hands, plunking the bag of chips onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

"Take it," Jimin mutters, irritation bleeding into his tone.

"Wait, why do I have to—"

"Take it," Jimin repeats, louder this time, his hand already retreating as he grabs another chip to munch on, clearly done with whatever chaos Taehyung just unloaded on him.

Jungkook swallows nervously, holding the phone to his ear as Taehyung's voice immediately fills it in a panicked rush.

"Jungkook! Oh my god, dude, you're not gonna believe this—" Taehyung starts, and Jungkook feels his entire stomach plummet before Taehyung can even finish his sentence.

"Believe what?" Jungkook half-yells into the phone, his voice cracking just slightly at the end, betraying the anxiety bubbling under his skin.

"Don't freak out," Taehyung begins, which, of course, makes Jungkook's blood pressure shoot straight through the roof. His knuckles grip Jimin's phone tightly, and he shares a panicked look with Jimin, who's now leaning against the coffee table with a chip halfway to his mouth, watching the scene unfold like it's prime-time drama.

"I'm already freaking out, hyung! Just tell me!" Jungkook demands, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"Okay, so," Taehyung starts again, and Jungkook can hear the smirk in his voice, which immediately makes him want to fling the phone out the window. "You know Y/N, yeah?"

"Do I—what do you mean, 'do I know Y/N'?! Of course I know—just get to the point!" Jungkook's frustration is mounting by the second. He's wound so tight he feels like a single flick might send him spiraling.

"Okay, Mr. Touchy," Taehyung says innocently, and Jungkook can practically see him holding back a laugh wherever he is. "So, uh… apparently, she's been asking questions."

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. His heart lurches in a way that makes his hands clammy against the phone. "Questions?" he repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Taehyung continues, tone far too blasé for Jungkook's liking. "You know, like... about Spider-Man."

Jungkook swears his brain short-circuits. For a second, all he hears is static, like every neuron in his head has collectively stopped firing.

"...What kind of questions?" he asks quietly, his voice taking on an edge that immediately grabs Jimin's attention.

"Oh, you know." Taehyung's voice is light, purposefully teasing. "Like, how he seems to always show up when she's around, or how he just happens to bring her favorite snacks, or—oh, this one's my favorite—how his voice cracks exactly like a certain freshman she knows at Yonsei."

Jungkook's knees buckle, and he collapses back onto the couch like his strings have been cut. Jimin is now openly laughing, clutching his stomach with one hand while pointing at Jungkook with the other.

"She—oh my god," Jungkook mutters into the phone, his free hand running through his hair in frantic tugs. "She knows. She knows, doesn't she? I'm so fucked."

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Taehyung says hurriedly, though his voice is still laced with amusement. "She doesn't know know. I mean, I don't think so. She's not like, accusing you or anything. Just... putting pieces together. Y'know, connecting dots."

"Connecting dots?!" Jungkook hisses, his chest tightening as his worst nightmare begins to unfold in real time. "Do you have any idea how many dots there ARE, hyung?! I'm like a walking... dot-factory!"

Jimin absolutely loses it, doubling over in laughter as crumbs from his chips scatter across the floor.

"Okay, Kook, you need to calm down," Taehyung says, though his tone suggests he's also suppressing a laugh. "She's just curious, that's all. You know how Y/N is. She's a journalist. She's always sniffing around for a good story, right?"

"She doesn't need THIS story!" Jungkook yells, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. "Oh my god, what if she writes about it? What if she—what if it ENDS UP IN THE SCHOOL PAPER?!"

"Relax, relax, relax," Taehyung says in quick succession, his voice almost soothing now. "She's not gonna write about it. I don't think she'd do that to you... unless, you know, you give her a reason to."

Jungkook groans, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands again. "I'm so dead. She's gonna out me. My life is over. My life is literally over."

"Hyung," Jimin finally pipes up, gasping for air as he wipes away a tear from laughing too hard. "Tell him to just confess already. At this rate, she'll figure it out before he ever grows the balls to tell her himself."

"Confess?" Jungkook sputters, jerking his head up to glare at Jimin. "Are you insane?! You want me to walk up to her and go, 'Hey, Y/N, funny thing—remember how you thought I was stalking you? Well, surprise! I was, but it's okay because I'm Spider-Man!' That's your plan?!"

Jimin shrugs, smirking as he tosses a chip into his mouth. "Worked for Andrew Garfield."

"THIS IS NOT A MOVIE!"

Taehyung's laugh echoes through the phone, loud and clear. "Oh man, I wish I was there to see this meltdown in person. Seriously, Kook, stop freaking out. Just... play it cool, okay? She doesn't know anything for sure. Yet."

"Yet?!" Jungkook exclaims, horror-struck.

"Gotta go!" Taehyung says way too quickly, the call disconnecting before Jungkook can yell at him further.

Jungkook stares at the phone in disbelief, his chest heaving as Jimin's smug laughter reverberates in the background.

"Cool," Jimin repeats mockingly, curving his lips. "Yeah, Kook, just play it cool. You're so good at that."

Jungkook groans, tossing the phone onto the couch and collapsing after it. "I need new friends."

"You love us," Jimin chirps, reaching for another chip.

Jungkook screams into the pillow.

You were expecting something, anything, really. A subtle slip-up. A sheepish confession. Hell, maybe even some stammering and nervous sweating.

But the moment you confronted Taehyung—cornered him, really, by the vending machine in the student lounge—and the words "Do you know if Jungkook's Spider-Man?" left your mouth, all he did was cackle. Loudly. Mockingly. Like a full-on villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.

"Spider-Man?" he wheezed, doubling over and clutching his stomach like you'd just told him the funniest joke in existence. "Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook? Noona, you're joking, right?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by how visceral his reaction was. "No. I'm not joking," you said stiffly, crossing your arms. "What's so funny about it?"

Taehyung straightened up, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye as he glanced at you with barely contained amusement. "Do you know Jungkook? Like, know him? Because that kid has two left feet. I've literally seen him trip over air. How would he even swing that gracefully?"

For a brief, fleeting moment, you felt the smallest hitch in your resolve. Because, well, the evidence did kind of contradict itself, didn't it? Jungkook is clumsy sometimes. That much is true. You've seen him knock over a whole stack of textbooks just trying to nod hello at you in the hallway. He once walked into a doorframe because he was too busy staring at his phone.

Spider-Man, by comparison, is supposed to be graceful. Quick. Precise. Not... whatever it is Jungkook embodies most of the time.

But then you think about the stupid coffee shop incident. The way Spider-Man stammered and fidgeted and tripped over his words like a nervous wreck. The way he dropped his entire cool superhero persona when he handed you those damn matcha pastries. He wasn't exactly graceful then, was he?

And okay, let's talk about those pastries for a second. Because the more you think about them, the more your brain starts spinning. You distinctly remember mentioning them once—to Eunjae, over lunch in the cafeteria, weeks ago. How the hell would Spider-Man know about them if he wasn't there to overhear?

You frown, chewing on the inside of your cheek as the pieces start stacking themselves again in your head. Jungkook might be clumsy, sure. But Spider-Man was clumsy too. At least, that day he was. And the matcha pastries aren't just a coincidence. They can't be.

Your inner spiral is abruptly interrupted by a bright, familiar voice calling out behind you.

"Noona!"

You whirl around at the sound like a guilty kid caught stealing candy, heart practically leaping into your throat because you know that voice anywhere. And there he is, the devil himself—Jeon Jungkook, all floppy hair and dumbly wide grin, bounding toward you like an overexcited golden retriever.

He sidesteps a couple of students in his path, his long legs moving with just a little too much energy. Honestly, it's a miracle he doesn't trip.

"I brought you these!" he announces, holding up a plastic bag like it's some kind of trophy. His grin stretches so wide it practically touches his ears, and you hate that your first thought is how stupidly adorable he looks.

Stupid, you think, swiping the bag from his hand. Not adorable. Definitely not adorable. You're sure of it.

Peeking inside, your brows furrow. "Hotteok?"

Jungkook presses his lips together, humming as he nods eagerly. "Yeah! You—" His smile falters just a touch. "You don't like it?"

The way his face drops shouldn't make you feel so guilty, but it does, and it's annoying. "No, uh, I mean…" You struggle for the right words, because… hotteok? Really? You'd been expecting the matcha pastries again. This feels almost purposeful—like he's playing dumb. Is he? Or is this proof that you've been completely off base this whole time?

You're overthinking again. Shaking your head, you wave off the thought entirely. "Yeah, thank you, Jungkook-ah," you mutter, tone softer than you mean it to be.

The banmal slips out without much thought, but the effect it has is immediate. His eyes go wide, and then his whole face lights up in the kind of beam that makes you want to smack yourself for fueling his enthusiasm.

"This is the first time you dropped honorifics with me," he says, looking downright gleeful.

You clench the bag a little tighter and wish you could hate him. Why is he so excited over something so small? Why does it make your chest feel weirdly tight? And why is it so hard to stay annoyed at him when he looks at you like that?

God, this kid.

"Don't get used to it," you mutter gruffly, turning away before the growing warmth in your cheeks betrays you completely.

"So," he begins, falling into step beside you as you start walking toward the journalism building. "What are your plans for today?"

You don't respond. Not out of spite or anything—you're just not in the mood to entertain whatever puppy-dog energy he's radiating right now.

"Writing notes?" he prompts, glancing sideways at you, his tone just a little too hopeful for your liking.

Still, you say nothing.

"Coffee?"

Nope.

"Gonna catch leads for Spider-Man's identity?"

That one makes you stop dead in your tracks. You whirl around so fast he nearly collides with you, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. "Huh?"

His eyes widen marginally, mouth opening and closing like he's trying to come up with a quick excuse. "Taehyung told me!" he blurts, the words tumbling out in a rush.

For a second, you just stare at him, blinking once, then twice. "Huh," you reply, eyebrows quirking upward.

"Yeah!" he adds, voice pitching slightly higher, probably in an effort to sound casual. "He said you were, uh, investigating? Like, Spider-Man and all that? You know, trying to figure out who he is?"

Your head tilts as you study him, arms crossing instinctively. "Did he now?"

"Uh-huh," he nods enthusiastically, though the way his hand rubs at the back of his neck gives him away almost immediately. "I mean, not that I think that's, like, bad or anything? It's cool! Totally cool! I mean, you're a journalist, so, like, it's your job, right? Investigating stuff and—"

"Jungkook."

He freezes, looking way too much like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"Why," you ask, narrowing your eyes just slightly, "do you sound like you're trying to convince me not to?"

"I-I'm not! I'm not," he stammers, waving his hands frantically. "I was just, you know, saying! Like, uh, if anyone were trying to find his identity, it'd definitely be you because, uh… you're smart? And observant? And not at all easy to fool?"

Your brow arches higher, his stream of nervous compliments only fueling the suspicion building in your chest.

"Right," you say slowly, dragging out the word as you step closer, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously when your gaze meets his. "So hypothetically…"

"H-Hypothetically," he squeaks, leaning back like he's mentally bracing himself for whatever's coming next.

"If I was trying to find out who Spider-Man is," you continue, voice calm and steady, "you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, now would you?"

The way he freezes, body rigid and eyes darting everywhere but at you, would be funny if it weren't so telling. The sheer panic written all over his face is practically criminal.

"I—uh—no? N-No. Definitely not," he stammers, the pitch of his voice betraying him entirely. "W-Why would I have anything to do with that? I'm just a freshman! I don't even know Spider-Man! I mean, who even is Spider-Man? Could be anyone, right? Crazy world we live in, haha…"

You take a moment to just stare at him, fighting the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might actually get stuck. "Right," you deadpan, turning on your heel to start walking again.

Jungkook exhales audibly behind you, feet scrambling to catch up. "Y-Yeah, right! That's what I thought too!" he says quickly, clearly desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. "Anyway, uh, where were we? Oh! Notes! Are you writing notes today, noona?"

You don't respond. Again. Mostly because you're too busy replaying his very suspicious reaction over and over in your head like a mental highlight reel.

Yeah… no way this kid isn't up to something.

You keep walking, your steps steady, purposeful. Jungkook, as always, trots along beside you like he's afraid you might disappear if he doesn't keep up. And unlike you, who values peace and quiet, Jungkook doesn't seem to understand the concept of shutting up.

"So, like, I was thinking," he starts, voice bright and eager. "If Spider-Man's around all the time, do you think he lives nearby? Like, maybe he's a uni student? Or—or maybe he's secretly a professor? Oh my god, imagine Professor Kim as Spider-Man—he'd probably web someone for being late to class, right? Oh, oh, or he'd use his powers to booby-trap the lecture hall if we don't submit our midterms on time! Haha—what do you think, noona?"

You don't answer.

"And have you noticed he wears, like, the same colors as Yonsei's? Like, blue and red? Do you think that's on purpose? Maybe he's trying to rep the school spirit! Or maybe he's trying to throw us off! Who knows, right? I mean, what's your theory? You must have a theory—you're always so smart about these things—"

"Jungkook," you interject, your voice flat as you stop abruptly in your tracks. He almost trips trying to halt beside you, blinking wide-eyed like he didn't expect you to actually respond.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you have class?" You ask, turning your head just enough for him to see the pointed look you're giving him.

He licks his lips, and you know he's about to lie before the words even leave his mouth. "No?"

"Liar," you deadpan, already turning back to face forward.

"You know my schedule?" he shoots back, voice teasing as he trails after you again.

You roll your eyes but don't give him the satisfaction of a retort. If you respond, he'll just milk it—probably tease you further, or worse, distract you with another string of nonsense questions about Spider-Man. No, you're better off ignoring him.

So, you keep walking. He keeps rambling.

And then—

The sound of a bus engine roaring down the street takes you off guard. You don't even register the rush of movement until it's too late.

Suddenly, there's a firm pressure against your shoulders, and you're stumbling—but not forward, no—backward. Stumbling directly into Jungkook's chest, his arms bracketing your body like they're the only thing stopping you from tumbling straight into the pavement.

Your breath catches, your heart pounding against your ribs. You freeze, blinking up at him in shock. "What the—"

He's close. Too close. His face hovers just inches from yours, his expression wide-eyed and… strained.

"Are you okay?" he blurts, his voice laced with breathless concern like he's just sprinted a marathon.

You don't answer. You can't answer. Because all you can think about is how the hell he even managed to grab you like that.

He was five meters away. Five meters away, Jungkook. There's no way he could've—

"What the fuck," you murmur under your breath, your mind racing a mile a minute as you shove yourself upright, still staring at him like he's grown a second head. "How—when—how the fuck did you just—"

"It was nothing!" he rushes out, cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. His voice cracks, and he's already letting go of you, stepping back like he's afraid of the scrutiny in your eyes. "I-I mean, reflexes? Adrenaline? Fight or flight? Haha…"

You narrow your eyes, suspicious once again. "…Right."

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. "Yeah, uh… it's all good. You're fine, right? Totally fine! So, uh… should we—keep walking? Yep, let's keep walking!"

He starts to turn away again, clearly desperate to move on, but you don't budge. You're too busy trying to piece together what just happened, trying to figure out how Jungkook keeps doing things that defy all logic and common sense.

And that's when it hits you.

Spider-Man. Fast reflexes. The ability to move like that without warning. You glance down at his feet, planted firmly on the ground, and then back up at his sheepish grin.

No fucking way.

"I'm leaving."

"No—come on, Tae, you promised!" Jungkook whines, clutching at Taehyung's shoulder like a child trying to stop his older sibling from walking out the door.

Taehyung stops mid-stride, turning to glare at him with an expression that's this close to murderous. "I promised you I'd study with you at the library," he hisses. "Not that we'd come here so you can sit there and drool all over her."

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide. "I—what?!"

"You heard me," Taehyung deadpans, shoving Jungkook's hand off his shoulder.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Jungkook mumbles, feigning innocence as he suddenly averts his gaze.

Taehyung rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't get stuck. "Kook, you've been staring at her table since we walked in. Don't even try to deny it."

"I—have not!" Jungkook protests, voice pitching just slightly higher than normal. His head jerks around, and of course his eyes instinctively flicker to your table. The one three meters to the left. The one where you're currently sitting, completely engrossed in your notes, pencil moving methodically across the page like it's the only thing that matters in the world.

You're breathtaking. Ethereal. Like a beam of light in the dull, dusty gloom of the library.

And honestly, Jungkook's not even sure why he's into you. Okay, maybe he's a little sure. Or a lot. But that's not the point—the point is—he is definitely not staring. Not staring, not drooling. Definitely.

"You're doing it right now, man," Taehyung mutters, arms crossed.

"I'm not!"

"You are."

"I'm not! It's just—" Jungkook swallows, gesturing vaguely in your direction. "I was just… checking out the table. It's a nice table! Good wood quality, sturdy legs. The craftsmanship is—"

"Good wood quality?" Taehyung repeats, staring at him like he's lost his mind.

Jungkook groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine! Okay! Maybe I glanced at her for a second. It's not a crime, hyung!"

Taehyung lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's already regretting his life choices. "I am so done with you," he mutters. But even as the words leave his mouth, he walks toward one of the tables anyway and plops his bag down into one of the vacant chairs.

"Sit," he grumbles, motioning vaguely to the chair across from him. "And don't make me regret this."

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice. He practically trips over himself as he sits, trying to act cool and not-at-all-focused on the fact that you're sitting so close. So close that he can see the faint furrow in your brow as you concentrate, or the way you absentmindedly tap the end of your pencil against your notebook.

He's not staring. Definitely not staring. Probably.

"You're staring again," Taehyung says flatly, not even bothering to look up from his own notes.

"No, I'm not!" Jungkook hisses, slouching lower in his chair.

Taehyung snorts. "Okay, Mr. 'Good Wood Quality.' Sure."

Jungkook tries. He really does. He's here to study—or at least, he's here to pretend to study—and he's determined to do something productive. Something library-like. Something that doesn't involve spending the entire time sneaking glances at you like some lovesick idiot.

So, step one: grab a book. Easy. People in libraries read books, right? He can do that. Simple.

He meanders through the shelves, grabbing the first book that catches his eye. He doesn't even check the title. Doesn't matter. A book's a book.

Step two: sit down. Done. Chair, occupied. Book, open.

Step three: look at the book like he's actually reading it.

He squints at the text, hoping his brain will absorb something through sheer willpower because god knows his mind sure as hell isn't cooperating right now. Every five seconds, it drifts back to the table three meters away, where you're still sitting, still taking notes, still looking unfairly... breathtaking.

"Jungkook," Taehyung mutters, his voice barely above a grumble as he glances up from his own book. "Why the fuck are you reading that?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks, startled, then looks down at the book in his hands for the first time.

Advanced Theoretical Physics.

Oh.

"You don't even study physics," Taehyung points out flatly, his tone dripping with judgment.

Jungkook flushes, slamming the book shut and fumbling to shove it under the table. "I—uh—thought it looked interesting."

Taehyung stares at him. "Sure you did."

Before Jungkook can come up with anything to salvage what's left of his dignity, you—of all people—decide to stand up, and all the air in Jungkook's lungs promptly decides to leave with you.

Oh, god. You're moving. Why are you moving? Where are you going? Should he say something? Should he act casual? Should he—

You shift slightly, gathering your things, and suddenly Jungkook's heart is doing this weird thing where it's racing and stuttering and flipping over itself, and now his body is moving before his brain can even think to stop it.

"Gotta go," he blurts, practically tripping over his chair as he bolts to his feet. "To the bathroom. I have to—pee. Yeah, really super really need to pee right now. See you in a bit!"

Taehyung looks up, stunned, as Jungkook all but sprints toward the library exit. "What the—wait—"

But Jungkook's already halfway across the library, muttering curses under his breath as he tries not to make it obvious that he's absolutely not going to the bathroom.

Taehyung sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before muttering to himself, "He's gonna get us banned from this place, isn't he?"

Jungkook's halfway to the library exit, heart pounding, when he realizes something odd.

You're not heading to the exit.

You're not even walking toward the bathroom.

He skids to a stop, trying very hard to play it cool, to act like he's not absolutely clocking your every move. His hands find their way into his hoodie pocket as he leans against the nearest bookshelf, pretending to scan the titles like he's not also sneaking glances at you over his shoulder.

Okay, so you're not leaving. That's fine. Totally normal. You're just… heading deeper into the library. Toward some distant corner, weaving past tables and shelves like you've got some secret mission.

And Jungkook? Jungkook is absolutely not a stalker. He's not. He's just curious. That's it. Normal behavior. Normal library behavior for a normal freshman.

Totally not unhinged.

But then you disappear behind a bookshelf, and his feet are moving before his brain can step on the brakes.

He follows, not too fast—just casual-like. Normal person stuff. Nothing suspicious. His eyes dart between shelves as he tries to spot where you went, his stomach doing this weird twisty thing that's part nerves, part excitement, part oh-god-why-am-I-like-this anxiety.

And just when he thinks he's catching up, just when he rounds the corner of yet another shelf and is about to spot you—

Yank.

Jungkook barely has time to register what's happening before soft hands grab him by the hoodie and pull him into a small, cramped room. His back bumps into something solid—he thinks it's the door—and suddenly you're standing right there, close enough that he can see every detail of your face, from the faint line of concentration on your forehead to the subtle curl of your lips as you exhale sharply.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"You," you exhale, your voice sharp but quiet. "Have some explaining to do, young mister."

Jungkook's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His brain is short-circuiting, sparking like a broken circuit board, because—how? Why? When? What?

"I—uh—I—what?" he stammers, blinking rapidly as his eyes dart around the tiny supply closet you've dragged him into. It's all brooms and cleaning supplies and the faint smell of lemon disinfectant, and holy fuck, it is too small in here. You're too close.

"Don't play dumb," you mutter, arms crossing as you lean back just slightly—not enough to give him actual breathing room, but enough to make him feel like he's being scrutinized under a microscope. "You've been acting… weird."

"Weird?" He squeaks, his voice cracking embarrassingly. "Me? Weird? No, I'm not weird! I'm—uh—normal! Super normal! The most normal person ever!"

Your brow arches, the skepticism written all over your face making his knees weak. "Normal people don't act like they've got something to hide," you reply evenly.

"I don't have anything to hide!" he says way too quickly, voice pitching high again.

You don't look convinced. Not one bit.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry as he tries to come up with an excuse, a cover, a way to escape both this tiny-ass room and the weight of your accusing gaze.

But all he can think about is how close you are. How your voice sounds louder in this little space. How your shampoo smells faintly like citrus. How utterly and completely trapped he feels—not just against the door, but under the intensity of your stare.

And he's so screwed. So screwed.

"The bus thing," you say, and Jungkook feels his entire soul leave his body for approximately three seconds before crash-landing right back into his chest with a painful thud.

"What bus thing?" he asks, trying for innocent confusion, but his voice comes out more like a strangled whisper. "There are lots of bus things. Buses are everywhere. Seoul's public transport system is very efficient and—"

"Three days ago," you cut him off, eyes narrowing. "When I almost got hit."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

The memory hits him like a freight train. Three days ago. That stupid bus driver who didn't see you crossing. The way his heart had stopped dead in his chest when he realized you were about to—and he'd just—without thinking—

He'd used his webs.

On you.

In broad daylight.

As Jungkook.

Not Spider-Man.

Just... regular freshman Jeon Jungkook, who definitely shouldn't have access to web-shooters or superhuman reflexes or the ability to yank someone out of harm's way from five meters away.

"I don't—" he starts, but his mouth is dry, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. "That was just—"

"Just what?" you press, leaning closer. "Just adrenaline? Just reflexes? Just another totally normal thing that totally normal freshmen do?"

"Yes?" he squeaks, pressing himself further against the shelf on his back like he might somehow phase through it if he tries hard enough.

Your eyes narrow further. "Really."

"Really!" He nods frantically. "I mean, haven't you heard those stories? About moms lifting cars off their kids? Same thing! Totally the same thing. Chemistry major stuff. Very scientific. Fight or flight response. Cortisol. Adrenaline. Biology... things."

"You're not a chemistry major."

"I could be!"

"You're in communications."

"...Minor in chemistry?"

You stare at him for a long moment, and Jungkook swears he can feel sweat beginning to bead at the back of his neck. This closet is too small. The air is too thick. You're too close, and your eyes are too sharp, and oh god, he's really messed up this time hasn't he?

"Jungkook," you say, voice low and steady. "How exactly did you pull me away from that bus?"

"I... ran really fast?"

"You were five meters away."

"I'm... very athletic?"

"Five meters, Jungkook."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Would you believe me if I said I've been working out?"

The look you give him could probably melt steel. "Try again."

"Yoga?"

"Jungkook."

"Pilates?"

You lean even closer, if that's possible, and Jungkook's pretty sure his heart is about to explode right out of his chest. "One more chance," you murmur. "Tell me the truth."

And god, he wants to. He really, really wants to. Because you're right there, looking at him with those eyes that see right through him, and he's tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of—

"I just..." he starts, voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't let you get hurt."

Your expression softens, just slightly, but your gaze remains unwavering. "How did you do it?"

"I—"

Just as Jungkook's about to bolt, there's a distinct click that makes both of you freeze.

"What the—?" You whirl around, pushing past him to grab the handle. It doesn't budge. You try again, yanking harder this time. Nothing.

"You must be fucking kidding me," you mutter under your breath, jiggling the handle with increasing frustration.

And that's when Jungkook realizes several things at once:

1. Someone's locked you two in.

2. The closet is tiny.

3. You're pressed up against him trying to open the door.

4. Your ass is—

Oh god.

Oh god.

This cannot be happening. Not again. Not after the coffee shop incident. Not after he literally had to swing away to deal with his... situation.

"Fuck," he breathes, trying to press himself further into the piece of furniture behind him, but there's nowhere to go. The shelves dig into his back as he attempts to create even an inch of space between your bodies.

His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, not daring to touch you, not daring to move. His breath catches in his throat as you shift again, still wrestling with the door handle, completely oblivious to the way each movement sends sparks of electricity through his entire body.

"Hey!" you call out, banging on the door. "This isn't funny!"

Focus on something else, Jungkook tells himself desperately. Anything else. Math. Chemistry. Professor Kim's boring lectures. That time Jimin ate an entire jar of kimchi and—

You shift again, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to suppress a strangled noise.

"Seriously," you growl, hitting the door again. "Whoever's out there better unlock this right now or I swear to god—"

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Dead puppies. Tax forms. Spidey suit chafing. Anything but how soft you feel against—

"Jungkook?" Your voice cuts through his desperate mental gymnastics. "You okay? You're breathing kind of weird."

"Fine!" he squeaks, voice way too high to be convincing. "Totally fine! Just, uh... claustrophobic! Very claustrophobic. Super claustrophobic. Did I mention I'm claustrophobic?"

You turn your head slightly, and even in the dim light, he can see your brow furrow. "Since when?"

"Since... right now?"

Another shift of your hips as you try the handle again, and Jungkook has to close his eyes, silently praying to whatever deity might be listening to either kill him now or get him out of this situation before he combusts from sheer embarrassment.

Because if you notice... if you realize... oh god, he'll never live it down. He'll have to transfer schools. Change his name. Move to a different country. Become a hermit in the mountains where no one will ever find him—

"Can you try pushing while I pull?" you ask, completely unaware of his internal crisis.

Jungkook makes a sound that might be agreement, might be distress, might be his soul leaving his body. He's not really sure anymore.

All he knows is that he's trapped in a closet with you, with your body pressed against his, and his spidey-sense is absolutely no help because apparently it doesn't warn him about situations that might kill him from pure mortification.

"Jungkook?" you prompt again, and he realizes he hasn't moved to help with the door.

"Right!" he says quickly, voice cracking. "Sorry! Just... give me a second to... uh... mentally prepare."

You snort. "For pushing a door?"

"Yes," he says weakly, because what else can he say? 'Sorry, I need a minute because you feel too good pressed against me and I'm trying very hard not to embarrass myself'?

Yeah, no. He'd rather die.

Jungkook does what you say. He really does. He plants his palms flat against the door, muscles tensing as he tries to push in time with your pulls. But it's too much. Too much to focus on, too close, too you.

His very healthy, very 21-year-old brain is absolutely screaming some unfortunate, very, very filthy thoughts right now, and no amount of silently yelling at himself to stop it, stop it, STOP IT seems to be working.

Push and pull. Yeah, he's thinking of that in an entirely different context, and honestly, sue him. He's a guy. A guy experiencing literal hell because your ass keeps brushing against him every time you shift, and it's doing things to him.

You move again, and Jungkook swears he's going to lose it. Like, right here. On the spot. His knees are weak, his palms are sweating, and his brain is running on some kind of autopilot loop of, "Abort mission! Shut it down! This is a disaster!"

Fuck him. Fuck his life. Just take him now, death. Send the reaper. Hell, send Taehyung to throw him into the Han River. Anything but this.

But then—just as his brain reaches critical overload—you stiffen.

Oh no.

You turn your head slightly, glancing at him over your shoulder, and the look in your eyes is... not great. In fact, it's terrifying.

"Jungkook," you say, his name an ominous warning.

His whole body seizes, every alarm in his mind blaring at full volume as sweat beads at the back of his neck. "Yeah?" he squeaks, his voice cracking so hard he wants to dig his own grave and lie in it.

"Are you hard?"

Oh, fuck.

Oh FUCK.

His brain short-circuits. His entire being freezes. His soul? Gone. It has left the building. His vision blurs at the edges as the words echo around the tiny closet, bouncing off every surface and hitting him square in the chest over and over again.

"I—uh—what?" he stammers, his voice so high-pitched it might as well be a dog whistle.

You straighten, still half-facing him, and your brow furrows with that look of realization that makes him want to throw himself into the sun.

"You are," you say, your tone shifting between disbelief and a growing edge of... amusement?

"I—I—no—what? No, I'm not! That's—no, that's ridiculous!" He tries to back away automatically, but there's nowhere to go, and his shoulders slam against the wood behind him.

You fully turn at this point, arms crossing as you raise a suspicious eyebrow. "Really, Jungkook?" Your eyes drift ever so slightly downward, and oh no oh no oh no don't look down don't look down don't look down.

He flails. Not physically, thankfully, but mentally? He's losing it. He's scrambling for something, anything, to salvage even a shred of dignity.

"It's—it's not what you think!" he blurts out, his hands flying up defensively. "It's—it's the—the door! Yeah! This stupid closet! I told you I was claustrophobic, right? That's gotta... do something... biologically... right?"

You stare at him, unimpressed. Completely, utterly unimpressed.

"It's not me," he continues, voice cracking again because his body is betraying him. "It's—it's like—science! Random reaction!"

"...Random reaction." Your expression is unreadable now, which somehow makes this worse.

"Totally random," he insists, nodding way too quickly. "You know, like... blood flow! Hormones! Human anatomy! It's a thing! You can look it up!"

"Oh, I'll look it up," you mutter, the corner of your mouth twitching like you're trying very hard not to laugh.

"Please don't," Jungkook whispers, his face burning so hot he's genuinely worried the fire alarm's going to go off.

And honestly? He doesn't even care if the fire alarm goes off at this point. He'd happily burn in this library right now if it meant escaping the absolute mortification of this moment.

Jungkook is fairly certain he's about to pass out, maybe die, and definitely disintegrate into dust when it happens. You turn around, shift again, just slightly, your body brushing against him in a way that feels… deliberate?

Or is his brain just playing tricks on him now?

Oh god. Oh fuck. Is this some cruel, sick hallucination brought on by his overactive imagination? Is his mind punishing him for thinking all those filthy, traitorous thoughts earlier? Why can't he have some kind of superpower to read minds right now? Be Professor X or some shit, because at this point, anything would be better than not knowing what the hell is going through your head right now.

Do you think he's a creep? A weirdo? A perverted little freshman who can't keep it together for five fucking minutes?

Or—

The thought makes his stomach flip violently, a spark of something hot—and definitely dangerous—shooting down his spine as you shift again.

Or do you find this… fun?

Amusing?

Arousing?

Because there's something about the way you're not stepping back, the way you're not recoiling in disgust, the way your breaths are just slightly heavier than before, that's making Jungkook's head spin.

And then you chuckle—low, quiet, but unmistakable.

"This is the first time this has ever happened to me," you mutter, the sound light but laced with something he can't quite name.

But he doesn't care what it's laced with. He doesn't even care what it means.

Because oh god, that chuckle—he'd bottle it if he could. He'd trap it in a jar and keep it with him forever, listen to it on repeat like a favorite playlist, let it echo in his head until he went insane from the sound of it alone.

His mouth opens, but no words come out. His body is frozen, his brain completely fried, every single one of his senses hyper-focused on the fact that you're still right there, pressed against him, closer than you've ever been before.

Say something, dumbass, his brain screams at him. Anything. Literally anything.

"I—it's not my fault?" he manages weakly, his voice cracking so pathetically he wants to punch himself.

You laugh again, and this time there's no mistaking it—there's something mischievous in it, like you're enjoying watching him squirm. And oh no, oh god, you're enjoying this.

"I didn't say it was," you reply, your voice smooth, calm, fucking deadly.

Jungkook swallows hard. His legs feel like they're about to give out any second now. His palms are clammy. His heart is doing that thing where it feels like it's both racing and stopping entirely at the same time.

"I—uh—should we try the door again?" he stammers, trying desperately to redirect the situation before his entire body spontaneously combusts from the sheer tension in the air.

You hum softly, not answering right away, and Jungkook feels every muscle in his body tense in response.

You keep moving, but now it's with purpose—up and down motions that are too deliberate to be anything but intentional. Like you're actually trying to... to get him off. Right here. In this tiny closet. In the fucking library.

Jungkook's mind is gone. Absolutely fucking gone. His consciousness has left his body, floating somewhere near the ceiling as he tries to process what's happening. He's honestly shocked he hasn't passed out yet, given how fast his blood is rushing south.

His hands hover awkwardly over your hips, trembling with the effort not to touch. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, desperate to hold back the embarrassing sounds threatening to escape. Because he refuses to pant like some desperate animal, even though that's exactly what you're reducing him to.

But then—oh fuck—you reach back, grabbing his hands. And before his brain can catch up, you're placing them firmly on your hips.

"It's okay," you murmur, your voice low and honey-sweet. "You can touch me."

The permission makes him shudder, a full-body tremor that he couldn't suppress if he tried. Your hand slides over his, guiding it upward, and his breath catches in his throat as you move it higher, and higher, and—

Oh god.

You press his palm against your breast, and Jungkook's brain completely flatlines.

A pathetic whimper escapes him before he can stop it. His fingers twitch against the soft swell under your shirt, and he's pretty sure he's died. This is death. This is heaven. This is some kind of fever dream his horny brain has cooked up.

"Is this really happening?" he whispers, his voice raw and desperate. "Like, actually happening? Not just another dream or—"

He cuts himself off, realizing what he just admitted, but it's too late. The words are already out there, hanging in the heated air between you.

"Another dream?" you repeat, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. "You dream about this often, Jungkook-ah?"

Fuck.

"Way too often," he confesses, the words spilling from his mouth before his brain can catch up. And yeah, that's definitely because his mind has completely checked out. Because normal Jungkook? Coherent Jungkook? Would rather die than admit something like that.

But normal Jungkook isn't here right now. Normal Jungkook left the building the moment you pressed his hand to your breast. Now there's just... this Jungkook. The one who can't think straight because you're letting him squeeze and touch and feel, and your ass is doing absolutely criminal things against his cock.

His forehead drops to your neck, breath coming in heavy pants that he can't control anymore. Fuck trying to be quiet. Fuck trying to be composed. His hips move on their own, grinding forward to match your rhythm.

Because you gave him permission, right? You said he could touch. You guided his hands. So this is okay. This is allowed. This isn't just another fevered fantasy his desperate brain cooked up at 3 AM.

"Noona," he breathes against your skin, the honorific slipping out again because his filter is completely gone. His fingers flex against your breast, testing, exploring, learning what makes your breath hitch. "Fuck."

You guide his movements with a confidence that makes his head spin, showing him exactly how to touch you. His fingers find your nipple through the fabric, and the way it peaks under his touch makes him dizzy with want. Your hand stays over his, encouraging him to squeeze, to explore, to learn.

And Jungkook? He's never been this hard in his entire fucking life.

He's pathetic, really. Getting this worked up from some dry humping and breast play like he's fifteen instead of twenty-one. Sure, they're absolutely amazing tits—perfect, actually, fitting in his palm like they were made for his touch—but still. He's broadcasting his virginity like a fucking neon sign, getting this desperate this fast.

But he can't help it. Can't stop the way his hips keep rolling against you, seeking more friction, more pressure, more. He knows he's close—can feel it building in his abdomen, that telltale tingling that makes his toes curl in his stupid mismatched socks.

"Noona," he whimpers against your shoulder, the sound muffled by your shirt. "Noona, I'm—fuck—"

His breath comes in sharp, desperate pants. He's making these absolutely embarrassing sounds—little whimpers and moans he has to muffle against your skin because if anyone heard him like this, he'd actually die on the spot.

The pressure builds, and builds, and builds, until he's grinding back helplessly, practically sobbing because it feels so good he can't stand it. His free hand grips your hip like a lifeline, probably too hard, definitely leaving marks, but he can't help it.

"Please," he chokes out, though he's not sure what he's begging for. "Please, I'm—I can't—"

He's going to come in his pants like a fucking teenager, and the worst part? He doesn't even care anymore.

"It's okay, Jungkook-ah," you murmur, voice honey-sweet and deadly. "Let go for noona."

And that's—that should be illegal. The way those words hit him is criminal, making his whole body seize up like he's been electrocuted. His hips stutter, losing rhythm as everything goes white-hot. He groans against your shoulder, embarrassingly loud even muffled against the fabric, as his orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train.

He came. He just—he actually just—came in his pants. Like some inexperienced kid who's never been touched before.

Mortifying. Absolutely fucking mortifying.

A hiccup escapes him, something between a sob and a whimper, and he wants to disappear. To evaporate. To cease existing entirely.

"Hey," you whisper, so soft it makes his chest ache. Your hand reaches back, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, and his skin erupts in goosebumps immediately at the gentle touch.

He wants to cry. Wants to apologize. Wants to explain that he's not usually this pathetic (lie), that he can last longer than three minutes (another lie), that he's not always this embarrassingly eager (the biggest lie of all).

But the words stick in his throat like clay, thick and suffocating. Because what can he possibly say? 'Sorry I just creamed my pants from some dry humping and titty grabbing?'

"It's okay," you murmur, and another hiccup escapes him.

No. No, don't do that. Don't pity him. Don't say those words like anything about this situation is remotely okay. Because it's not. It's the furthest thing from okay. He just—he literally just—

"I really liked that," you add, voice soft but sure.

Jungkook's head snaps up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "What?"

You… liked it? How could you possibly have liked that? He barely lasted three minutes. He came in his pants like a middle schooler. He probably squeezed your tit too hard and left bruises on your hip and made the most embarrassing sounds and—

"How?" he croaks out, voice raw and disbelieving. "How could you—that was so—I'm so—"

Pathetic. Desperate. Inexperienced. Embarrassing.

His brain supplies about fifty different self-deprecating adjectives, but none of them make it past his lips because he's still trying to process the fact that you said you liked it.

The dam breaks.

Jungkook is crying. Tears spill over his flushed cheeks, unbidden and hot with shame, and oh god, he's really lost it now. He's crying, actually fucking crying, because apparently, being mortified isn't enough. No, his body has to betray him in every possible way all at once.

His blurred vision catches you turning around to face him, and then your hands—soft, warm—reach up to gently brush the tears away from his eyelids. The gesture makes him hiccup, and he immediately wants to crawl under the floorboards and die.

"It was cute," you murmur, and your tone is soft but steady, like you actually mean it.

"Don't say that," he mumbles, voice cracking as he ducks his head, his tears threatening to spill faster. He can't handle this. He really, really can't.

You smile—a smile so kind it feels like a dagger to his chest. "Why? I'm not lying."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"It was so embarrassing!" he bursts out, the words tumbling from his mouth in one long, panicked string. "I made such embarrassing sounds and—and I—I came in my pants and—"

"It's what I wanted," you interrupt, your words cutting through his spiraling like a blade.

He freezes, the tears still clinging to his lashes. His breath catches, the air suddenly clammy.

"...What?" he croaks, the word so small and broken it barely makes it past his lips. His mind blanks, unable to process what he just heard. Surely he misheard you, right? Surely this is some kind of cruel, shame-induced hallucination because there's no way.

"It's what I wanted," you repeat, your voice unwavering as you look him straight in the eye, your gaze too steady, too certain.

His breathing stutters. His tears momentarily forgotten, he stares at you, wide-eyed and silent, like you've just flipped his entire world upside down.

Your hand is still on his cheek, thumb brushing away the lingering wetness under his eye, and Jungkook can't look away from your face. Can't process the way you're looking at him—soft but certain, like you actually meant what you just said.

"But—" he starts, voice wavering. "But why would you—I mean, I—" He swallows hard, his face burning. "I barely even touched you. I just... got off on you like some desperate—"

"Because," you cut him off, your other hand coming up to frame his face, holding him still when he tries to look away. "I liked making you fall apart like that. Liked knowing I could affect you that much."

His breath catches. "But—"

"And," you continue, your thumb trailing down to brush over his bottom lip, making him shiver. "I liked how honest you were. How you couldn't hide how much you wanted it."

Jungkook's brain short-circuits again. Because what the fuck? What the actual fuck? You liked that he was desperate? That he was pathetic and needy and—

"The sounds you made," you murmur, leaning closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his lips. "Were fucking hot."

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, caught somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Because this can't be real. This has to be some kind of fever dream. Some kind of post-orgasm hallucination.

"Noona," he breathes, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he's allowed to touch you again. "I—"

And then the door clicks.

Both of you freeze, heads snapping toward the sound. Light floods the closet as the door swings open, and there stands Taehyung, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Time's up, lovebirds!" he announces cheerfully. "Did you two work out your... tension?"

Jungkook is going to kill him. He's actually going to murder his best friend. Right after he dies of embarrassment. Again.

"Hyung," he croaks out, face burning hotter than the sun. "Did you—was this—did you plan this?!"

Taehyung just grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're welcome!"

Yeah, Jungkook is definitely going to kill him.

Just... maybe after he changes his pants.

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[altocat]

(AG reunion ask got my brain brrrrrrrrrr-ing x3)

Imagine library!Sephiroth believing that everything about his relationship with Genesis & Angeal was fake, that everything was puppeteered by his Jenova cells without him even realizing it. Imagine him believing that his personal company was never liked at all—only a subtle, biological pull that attracted Genesis & Angeal to him, that rearranged their brain chemistry to want to be with him. They never liked him for his personality, his humor, or even his kind and generous heart. It was all fake. All of it. Just like the string of lies that had threaded together his life, birth to current day. No one could love him, a monster. A weapon. A creation of corrupted hands. He was nothing to this world… and this world was nothing to him.

Nothing.

*curls up and takes a nap*

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF I DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT ASDFGHFDS

Honestly, given the amount of time Sephiroth spent alone with his thoughts in the library, this probably did cross his mind to a degree. That Angeal and Genesis were really only just drawn to him because they shared the same creator. But at least Angeal and Genesis had the benefit of actual families and weren't created the same way he was. So Sephiroth still gets to be paranoid about their relationship while still being othered, never knowing the truth about Lucrecia.

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 4

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

you have a sweet encounter with leon, and there's already talk of ada and leon being together despite the moment you shared.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

content contains: mild angst, is this even enemies to lovers? i dont know anymore., mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2119 words

song rec: "dust in the wind" by kansas

Teaching the fundamentals of music was no easy feat.

As I sat in the center of my room, a felt a growing frustration sit in the pit of my stomach as my eyes darted from paper to paper, thinking of ways to teach dynamics and balancing to middle schoolers. My music books from years ago were scattered around me, terrorizing each cell in my brain as I painstakingly search for simpler ways to teach these techniques to my students, who'll be coming over for their first lesson tomorrow afternoon.

The night breeze flowed from my open window, making some of the scores flitter around. I sigh tiredly, flopping down to lay on my back in an attempt to calm my nerves. The carpet beneath me tickled my cheek as I turned to lay on my side, my hands fiddling with the white fabric as the cool air soothed me. Slowly, my eyes drooped closed as I succumbed to sleep.

But the moment is short lived.

Drifting to my ears was the sweet sound of a guitar, echoing from wall-to-wall in my bedroom. The tune was vaguely familiar, and I found myself crawling to my little window nook in curiosity. I plop myself up on the small seat, peeping out of the window to search for the source of the sound. The streetlights flickered outside, the road silent save for the sweet music playing in the distance. My eyes focus on the house across from my own, squinting at the window parallel from me.

A warm glow emanated from the opened glass, inviting me to take a look. I can't see too much save for a desk with the source of the light on top of it. I bite my lower lip anxiously as I stare from my own window, wondering if that's where I'm hearing the music from.

Suddenly, the strings stop playing, and feel a sense of sorrow as silence fills the night. As I get up to go back to my spot on the floor, a familiar figure makes way to the window across the street.

Leon slumps down into his desk chair, placing an ebony guitar on his desk with a thump!. Immediately, I notice a string dangling from the side of the lump of wood, and I realize that he had been the one playing tonight. The blonde ace digs through the drawers of his desk, fishing out a roll of string and some other tools I couldn't quite name. Curiously, I watch the boy change the string, carefully tuning his seemingly well-loved acoustic guitar as he pokes his tongue out in concentration. When he was satisfied with the way it sounded after playing a short practice tune, he went back to playing, relaxing in his desk chair.

It was mesmerizing.

The way his fingers effortlessly plucked at the strings made my brain buzz. Deftly, he played chords that went along with Kansas' "Dust in the Wind". The music whistled to me across the street, throwing me into a trance as I rest my head on the window sill.

If I focused hard enough, I could hear Leon singing the lyrics beneath his breath, as if muttering them were a sin. His blonde locks of hair framed his face perfectly, the yellow glow of his desk-light contouring the lines of his strong jaw. My heart fluttered oddly at the peaceful sight. The further into the song Leon got, the louder he would get. I eventually heard him clearly from across the street.

Completely enamored, I lost myself in the sickeningly sweet voice of his, humming along with the ace from my spot. As Leon sang, he looked up from his instrument, and we locked eyes.

His lips don't stop moving.

Leon continues to serenade me, seemingly unbothered by our recent issues. The ocean blue of his eyes hooked me in, and I could no longer focus on the way his voice sounded or how the pads of his fingers drifted across the fretboard of his guitar. His voice went through one ear and out the other, and I could feel my breath hitch in my parched throat. I'm completely unaware of how the song has ended, our stares never faltered.

His lips are pressed into a straight line as he looks at me from across the street, baby blues gazing into my own.

And then I wave.

I fucking wave at him.

In my awkward trance, my hand swings back and forth in front of me, greeting him with a cheesy smile from my window. Leon waves back, just as awkwardly, as he threads his other hand through his hair, his guitar tucked securely in his lap. I feel a blush creep up my neck, flushing the skin a soft pink as I bite the inside of my cheek. Suddenly, I get an idea.

I lift my index finger in the air, silently asking him to wait. I see his eyebrows knit together confusedly as I turn away from my window, rummaging around my room to find my old black board and a piece of chalk from my book bag. I sit on my knees on the nook of my window, scribbling my thoughts onto the board before showing it to Leon.

"You play beautifully," I wrote to him in neat letters. I see Leon squint, his eyes trying to adjust to the dim streetlights. Leon moves quickly to set his guitar to the side to then dig through his desk drawers, pulling out a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen. In big, red, and sloppy penmanship, he writes back,

"THANKS I'M GLaD yOu LIKE THE sERenAdE."

My eyes crease as I giggle at him from across the road when I notice how horrendous his writing is, facing my blackboard to myself to reply to him.

"How long have you been playing?" I question him, trying to write large enough for him to read. Leon scribbles on a new page.

"LIKE ?? SINCE I waS 7?" He responds, his lettering bold and messy.

"That's interesting. You didn't strike me as a music person," I write. I see Leon's face burn a soft pink despite the gap between us. He flips to a new page, quickly jotting down his response.

"RUnS iN THE fAmILY. DAD LoVES MUSiC," he flashes the paper to me, the paper crinkling beneath his tight grip. I nod at him from my end, smiling softly. I smudge off the chalk on my board.

"Well, it was beautiful," I show him the board before writing another response. "You should sing more often."

"WiLL You LISTeN IF i DO?" He asks me, an odd look in his eyes as he stares at me from his desk. I gape at him slightly, unsure of how to respond to the ace. Hesitantly, I nod, and I see a sheepish grin paint across his face.

"Goodnight, Leon," I bid him farewell before setting my small blackboard down, shutting the window with a soft click!. I gaze at Leon from behind the glass, seeing him wave at me with his notebook in the other hand.

"NIGHTY-NiGHT," it says in the worst handwriting I've ever seen. I giggle softly before I draw the curtains closed.

That night, I had a sweet dream.

The next day, I'm walking through the halls with my Sony Walkman buzzing through my skull, blasting "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" by Looking Glass into my ears. I had thirty minutes before the first period bell rings, giving me enough time to hang out with the girls as I always do. Entering the lunch room, I immediately spot the group of girls at a round table tucked into a corner.

"Sweet pea~!!" Samantha practically shouts above the crowd from her seat atop the table, waving her arm in the air. I jog up to her and the rest of the girls, greeting them with a smile.

"Is that your new oboe?" Patti points her daintily manicured index finger at the thin, black case in my left hand.

"Yeah... I tried playing it over the weekend. It's a bit poor quality for the level I play at, but it'll last me until our concert season officially begins," I sigh, frowning softly.

"Man...!" Lucy sniffles. "This is terrible! I can't believe Leon would do that to you--I mean, one of our best players gets their signature instrument trashed? That's honestly a sin!!" The blonde shoved her face into her hands, and I was worried that she was about to cry. Samantha huffs at this.

"It's whatever. We're going to be starting our fundraiser when football season starts up here in a few weeks, so we'll get her a new oboe by then," the ravenette says confidently, rubbing her hand onto my shoulder. I squirm in my seat as I think of whether or not I should tell them about what happened last night.

"Speakin' of Kennedy, have you heard about him and Ada Wong?" Patti mentions, and I visibly perk up at the subject.

"Wong?? What about her?" Samantha quirked an eyebrow, her fingers lacing together under her chin as she looked at our friend curiously.

"Apparently, her and Leon are dating! They went on a date over the weekend, and even went to Hattie's!" Patti rambled excitedly, eager to share the new info that's probably spreading around the schools like wildfire. I hear Samantha scoff next to me, and I just know she's rolling her eyes.

"Of course, he's in cahoots with her of all people," she scowls. "Dami's girl—he's probably trying to spite the poor guy," Samantha audibly recalls my brother's past relationship with the class president. I pout slightly at her suggestion, praying that wasn't true.

For the sake of my brother or for the sake of myself, I'm unsure.

"Are you sure they're dating? I mean..." I tap my fingers against my bottom lip in thought. "Leon's only been in Everglade for less than a week... How could he jump into Ada's tits so quickly?" I question. Patti shrugs her shoulders.

"Ada's got that charm, I guess," she scoffs gently. I hum in response, not sure on how to respond. I look down at the charms on my oboe case, which I had transferred from my old case. The bunny stared back at me with its beady, black eyes, comforting me. I look back up at my group to tell them about what happened last night, but I'm stopped when I see the devil walk past our little table.

In a woody-brown Carhartt jacket, blue jeans, and worn-out Timberlands was Leon Scott Kennedy. In his hands was a carton of strawberry milk, tossed up and down as he sauntered past our table. I watched his face closely, noticing immediately how he took a quick peek at me from the corner of his eyes. When he's out of earshot, the girls all sigh at the same time, as if they held their breaths the entire time he was within 5 feet of us.

"His ass is so tight in those jea-"

"Patti!!!"

"Sorry, Sam..."

I stifle a giggle behind the palm of my hand, a blush painting my face red as Samantha scolds the poor brunette for ogling at the "new" guy. I ignore them as I watch Leon take a seat at a long table near the center of the lunchroom. He's cozy next to Ada Wong, who's sporting a scarlet-hued sweater over a black collared shirt. Her hair is perfectly styled, like always, and there's a soft red gloss on her lips. There's an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watch Leon swing his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a side-hug situation. The smile on his face is wide, and he looks at-ease in his table filled with sweat-rags and other jock freakazoids.

"You have to admit, they do look good together," my best friend hums, looking over at me. I give Samantha a small frown in return, nodding in agreement as we all stole glances at the terrible sight in front of us.

Leon looks up at me for a split second, but it feels like ages to me. I see his fingers twitch on Ada's shoulder, as if he was planning to wave at me, but he stops himself.

His attention returns to the woman in red.

"I guess we shouldn't have expected much from a Greenvale student," Patti yawns, turning her attention to the dirt between her nails. The table exchanges mumbles of agreement, and I feel the feeling in my tummy get worse for some reason. The girls chat among themselves as I lose myself in my thoughts.

Chemistry is going to be awful.

i wanted to make this chapter a little sweet as an apology for the lack of updates AND as a thank you for 100 followers! it means so much to me that you guys are all so supportive :,]

a little taglist: @bonnibuckets @umooooo74 @kurawooooooo @ilovemen1242

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Wolf's Heart; Okumura x male!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: October 21st, 2024

Description: Before requests close, I'll ask what it's like to date Koshuu, Possible data, be it fluff, angst, NSFW etc etc. (Preferably male reader) 😭😭😭

Notes: Recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I didn't do nsfw since I kept it to highschool Okumura, but there is definitely fluff and angst.

Back to directory

You’re probably childhood friends with him and Seto

You also don’t play baseball

He hates words of platitude, so whatever he tells you he means 100%

And honestly that’s why it surprises you so much when he gives you his button at graduation

Seto’s behind you giving him a thumbs up, think the one how to train your dragon scene with Toothless courting the lightfury

These two are smart but share brain cells

Like with, pretty much all of my DNA headcanons, baseball comes first and you have to be okay with that

And you are, like I said you’ve known him for forever

You test in to Seidou to stay with him, both to keep him out of trouble and because you know long distance just wouldn’t work with his schedule

Plus Seidou’s not a bad school academically, so there isn’t really down side

You’re one of the few people Okumura trusts whole heartedly

That makes it a bit easier to deal with his stubbornness, but he is still very stubborn

Sawamura accident causes your first big fight, and when I say first fight I mean of your friendship and relationship

You met Sawamura in the hallways and he kind of… adopted you?

You were hanging out with Asada and he stopped to say hi and next thing you knew you had his line and an invite to watch the team practice

Which you had been anyways, it’s where you do homework so you can see Okumura

Anyways, the point is that you figure out Sawamura really is that positive and it’s not just platitudes

And that leads to your fight with Okumura

Because he sees you defending this annoying upperclassman who’s being pushy and deceitful and trying to pull the upperclassman card (which you agree was a dick move)

He gives you the cold shoulder for a bit, it’s how he cools off

That’s the part that hurts the most, which he doesn’t realize

So when he does apologize, it’s for assuming the worst of people and letting his past cloud his judgment

And he’s genuinely afraid when you say that’s not why you’re mad

He doesn’t know what he did wrong, he didn’t realize he was ignoring you so someone has to tell him

Annoyingly enough it’s Miyuki

Because while he didn’t know about your fight, Okumura was around a lot more and checking his phone/ texting a lot less

So when he hears you two talking outside the room he puts stuff together

The second apology comes with a  promise to work on his communication with you

It’s funny, because he’s not afraid to speak his mind and he’s great at communicating with pitchers

But when it comes to you he just, internalizes everything and tries to handle it alone

You guys always have lunch alone once a week, the rest of the time you eat lunch with Seto too

If you don’t play a sport or anything that doesn’t allow jewelry, and if you don’t mind jewelry, turn his button in to a bracelet

His ears turn red when he sees it for the first time

You make every game you can, especially once he makes first string

You also sit with him while he goes through player data and game videos, you may not play but you’ve been around him so long you’ve picked some stuff up

Nothing about your relationship really changes once you get into a relationship, at least at first

He slowly opens up to the idea of PDA, and that’s when the team finds out you’re actually dating

You walk to practice together one day with your arms linked, and you kiss his cheek because you don’t see anyone around

Of course that’s when Sawamura runs by with his tire and now the whole team knows

He doesn’t really mind that they know, but he doesn't appreciate the teasing jabs

You run errands together as well

I won’t cover jealous Okumura here since I’ve already done that

But jealousy is definitely thing with him, although since you’ve known each other for so long it’s a little better

When he thinks of his future, you’re always by his side

So even when baseball seems to take up all of his time, just remember he’s still thinking about you

He never wants you to feel like he doesn’t care about you, so he’s gotten in the habit of sending good morning and goodnight texts

Even though he’ll see you in class

He’s kind of clingy, but he will deny that till the day he dies

[miscling]

Hello!! I read a few of your "mommy sub" posts and it warms my heart that you and I (also a mommy with submissive tendencies) seem to share a brain cell.

the mommysub braincell is a rare one, isn't it?

there are so many kiddos out there who want to be looked after, but very few of them realise just how powerful they are. mommy has to be there for them for everything they need. mom can be kind and caring and firm, but she's really not the one in charge. it's always her kids who come first and what they need far outweighs any measure of control that might give her.

whether its a bratty little running circles around her with increasing demands and the threat of tantrums, or an adult kid who knows exactly how to pull their mother's strings to get what they want, a subby mom will always be there for her kids.

it's a very fun dynamic to play with!

[heretolurkandnothingmore]

WIP Wednesday

5k words done for the first chapter! Soon. Here are my two favorite snippets for today:

1.

Of course, the alien princess would be speaking in riddles. Damn politicians. Anakin felt the beginnings of a headache form in his temples. He was about to ask one of the myriad questions wracking his brain, when they turned a corner and saw a giant cavern open before them. He stopped, stunned into silence.

"How did our scan miss any of this?" Ahsoka said in a small voice.

The chasm opened up like a sarlacc's mouth, sharp teeth of spires glimmering along its indigo-colored stone walls. Islands of rock and glowing crystal hovered in the middle, seemingly unbound by gravity and connected with bridges that looked as thin as strings. Anakin took a tentative step to the precipice and gulped. The bottom of the chasm was covered by mist and seemed impossibly far. Not that he was afraid of heights, having been at home in the pilot's seat since childhood. Still, it made him all over to look. To hear the tantalizing beckoning of the fall. The cavern swirled with power, too - it was like starlight, twinkling so impossibly far and yet so close he could almost touch it. He missed Obi-Wan, suddenly and fiercely. The view was stunning, and Anakin longed to share it with him. To catch a glimpse of the smile his Master when the beauty of the natural world stunned him with its brilliance. It's been so long since Anakin had seen him smile.

2.

"We'll break out if they take too long, right?"

"Absolutely. And hey, this is an opportunity to gather some of that intel you told Rex about!"

"From inside a prison cell?"

"From the very heart of the enemy territory." He corrected.

Anakin put his arms behind his head and tried to think through what happened. "Obi-Wan will ask for every detail, when he comes," he thought. "Better give him an answer". He imagined his Master's exasperated look, him going "Now, Anakin. That's a new record - less than an hour between arriving cityside and getting arrested. How in the world did that happen?" How indeed. The Jedi rifled through his memories back to when it all started...

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education: Chapter 21

Minors DNI

Masterlist link

Chapter 21

The rain came down in loud gray torrents outside of Leia's warm little apartment while the team huddled together in her living room, thinking out loud and trying to plan, sharing every scrap of information and experience from the last few hours.

The news had spread to the entire town by now that Dr. John Ferguson, dean of Hawkins Community College had died that morning from a heart attack. Although no one in that room (or in most of Hawkins for that matter) would particularly mourn the death of such an unpleasant man, the little team was fairly certain it was no ordinary death.

Dustin was pacing in the middle of the room, thankfully taking the lead since Eddie and Leia were both too exhausted to even think clearly.

“Okay,” Dustin said clapping his hands, cracking his knuckles, and talking through his deductions like a dorky Sherlock. “I pulled a few strings at the coroner's office and saw the postmortem notes and photos...”

“Hold the fucking phone! You What? How?” exclaimed Steve.

Dustin resumed, saying loudly, “It doesn't matter Steve! We needed to know for sure that it's Vecna.” Steve threw up his arms in a resigned huff. Dustin continued in a softer voice, setting his hand gently on Leia's shoulder. “It is Vecna, Leia, I'm sorry.”

She nodded her head, saying with a bland expression, “great...”

“But!” Dustin said, holding up his finger. “I have a theory. The good news is, this time it doesn't seem like he can break through someone's mind enough while they're awake to physically hurt them. I think they have to be asleep for him to have his full power...power to kill. I guess killing him once must have weakened him. Also...”

“Wait! He used to be able to physically harm people when they're awake?” Leia asked, puzzled.

“Yeah..but...but now he could probably only make you hallucinate, scare you at best, when you're awake. He wouldn't be able to kill you...and of course music can pull you out as well,” he explained as if that would make her feel much better.

Eddie screamed at Dustin.“For fuck sake, Henderson!” as he came over to put an arm around his girlfriend, who still looked exhausted and vacant. Leia crossed her arms and simply nodded numbly, thinking sure, this might as well happen. She was rapidly getting to a point where nothing surprised her.

Dustin and Robin grimaced and side-eyed each other. “Sorry,” she whined out. “But we didn't want to talk about that too much and scare you more if it wasn't necessary and, look, wasn't necessary. Yay!” Robin gave a weak, sarcastic little cheer. Leia sat down heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Eddie planted himself protectively next to Leia, and snipped, “is that all, Dustin? Huh? Any other great news for us?”

“Actually yes, butthead, there is better news. I think I know how to defeat him this time. I think that he was able to survive because after he technically died, his body remained and was reanimated by whatever power he sucks up from the upside-down. Whatever power the upside-down has, it's like a defibrillator times a thousand, and must regrow tissue better and faster than stem cells. It's the same reason Eddie survived. He was in the upside-down long enough that it restarted his heart and brain, then helped knit his body back together in a way that would have been impossible in our world.”

Eddie twitched and subconsciously stroked a finger over where his scars laid in ridges beneath the cotton of his shirt; as if even the mention of all of this made them throb and itch again.

Steve piped up. “So we need to kill this fucker again, and this time we have to make sure we drag him outside of the upside-down?” “Correct, dear Stevie. If we pull this bastard out of the weird biological stew that's keeping him on life support he won't stand a chance. I bet once we get him out of the upside-down he won't even be able to invade minds anymore. He needs his anchor-point to do so...has to be plugged into the outlet to charge up, and he can't move his body from that place in the upside-down as long as his mind is invading someone's here.”

“Are there still portals? And how will we know where his new nest is in the upside-down? We'll need to map it out,” Robin added.

“Well, we don't know...we're gonna have to....”

“What about weapons....

“Does anybody know how to get a hold of El again?”

“Why don't we...”

Everyone was on their feet again, debating and talking over each other...everyone except Leia who was still sitting in the same hunched position, eyes glazed over. No one noticed in the fury of their raucous discussion.

As she sat, in a twilight between waking and sleeping, she heard him; his voice like the creaking of an old door that shouldn't be opened.

Look at them.

She felt that gnarled hand under her chin again, as it lifted her head. Her apartment was again bathed in a surreal dark blue luminescence, everything looked hazy and sub-aquatic, but she could make out the shadowy figures and echoing sounds of her friends as they bickered and yelled. They were right there but seemed so far away, untouchable. The air moved languidly, fluidly, carrying sound more slowly, and weighing down upon her skin. Leia tried to stand but was cemented to her seat on the couch, she couldn't even rotate her head to see any more of Venca sitting next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she could barely see that he was slouched easily into the sofa next to her, an arm around her back as if they were a couple on a date. As if it were Eddie and herself, watching a movie.

Eddie! she tried to say. But the words only came out in her mind.

Hmmm...what about him, Leia? You think he could save you? Look at them, squabbling like children. You think any of them could save you?

I'm not sure...but...but maybe I could save them?

His hand was now smooth and cold and human; Henry's hand. He turned her head to face him, to meet his piercing blue eyes. Are you about to propose some kind of deal?

He cracked a lopsided grin, amused by the idea. I'm listening.

What if I came willingly? What if I let you kill me or take me, or whatever horrible thing you want with me, if it means you leave the rest of them alone? Especially Eddie.

He sighed and moved closer, looking more deeply into her eyes, reading the truth in her thoughts.

Oh! You really mean it don't you? It's adorable that you think you have any bargaining power here. You're smarter than that. Listen to me...he said, his voice becoming audible, lips moving as he spoke.

“I will win, no matter what. I will decide who lives and who dies, no matter what. And I will take you, no matter what. It'd be best if you make peace with that. I'll even get rid of the people who have hurt you and teach you to relish the death of your enemies, just as I do. I'm offering you such a lovely gift! Accept it.”

Looking into her mind, he could feel the fear and despair seeping in. He tutted as tears began to travel down her cheeks from the dark pools of her eyes, but he enjoyed seeing her break like this, so vulnerable. “Now now. Don't be sad,” he said breaking into a wide smile that didn't reach his frozen eyes. His long cold fingers wiped away her tears. “and don't be afraid. I have no desire to kill you. I'd rather not harm a single hair on your precious head,” Henry said, combing his bony white fingers through her black locks.

“Why?” she asked in a trembling whisper, her voice now free to leave her mouth.

“Because these days, I hunger for predators a good deal more than their prey. They...taste different. More meaty, more sustaining. And, thanks to your friends, I need heartier meals to regain strength these days.” He pointed over to where the shadows of her friends were still talking, “Of course, I have no trouble devouring some of the prey as well if they inconvenience me too much.”

Leia closed her eyes weeping, terrified of his power, feeling totally helpless to save her friends or herself, or her dear sweet Eddie. “No no...don't close your lovely eyes, darling,” Henry said with an artificially sweet smile, as he psychically forced her lids to open. “I want you to see. You'll be by my side, after all, when it all comes to pass.”

One cold hand wiped her tears away, while the other covered her forehead gently, like a nurse checking for a fever. Vecna was showing her his plan, his ideal of a utopia made in his image. As he did, he licked her tears off of his long fingers and hummed in satisfaction at the taste of her hurt, her sorrow, her gentle but stubborn empathy and kindness and grit which coated his tongue like sugar. It was somehow especially delectable. If the sour rage of the predators was his supper, she was an absolute confection of a dessert, and he would savor her eternally. She fascinated him far too much to kill her, this rare little bird. No. She would make a fine and clever pet for him...forever.

“Leia!” Eddie was screaming at her as she sat on the couch, eyes fogged over. Steve, vaulted over to her CD player and shakily hit the play button, cranking the sound up and blurting out a mantra of “Come on come on come on!” as they all clustered around the sofa.

Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again...

Robert Smith crooned out as Leia's obscured pupils swirled from dead gray back to her usual warm black-brown. She heard the music and her mind latched onto the opening chords like a rope pulling her to shore. The hand on her face no long felt bony, cold, and otherworldly. It felt warm and familiar. The fluid air in the blue-scale hallucination began to shudder and swirl down, like a deep pool being drained, leaving the warm colors of reality. She felt her head surface into lighter air and took deep heaving breaths. Her physical body awoke with a start, eyes flashing all the way open, lungs heaving for breath, Eddie's terrified face was in front of hers, his warm hands cradling her face as she came back to the waking world.

“Eddie!” she gasped, throwing her arms around him, shaking like a frightened animal. She began to rush her words out. “He...he was in my head...he gets inside of me. I...I tried to make a deal...myself for you and he wouldn't take it, Eddie. He won't...he won't stop. He's going to take me and I can't protect you...or..anyone. If he can get to me he can get to all of you....oh god.”

Eddie held on tight. “Shhhhh. Shhhh. Hey...hey it's okay. We'll make a plan okay...we'll fight together.”

He pulled away to look into her eyes. “Look at me...together...okay? We're all gonna do it together.” The gathered group nodded frantically to her, just as Eddie did. Then he kissed her quickly, desperately.

Leia looked around, still shaking, but entirely back in the room now, breath becoming more regular. She swallowed, gaining composure, come on, roll with the punches. It's what you're good at. Use what you've learned. She reminded herself, then said in a measured tone, “I think whatever plan you come up with. I shouldn't know it. If he can get into my head whenever he wants like this, I can't know your next steps.”

Dustin clapped a hand over his forehead. “Holy shit. Obviously. Why didn't I think of that?”

She gave a wry smile, “To be fair, Dustin, you've very suddenly had a lot to think of.

Robin said, “Right. Well, whatever we plan, we have to plan without you, but can you at least tell us what he's telling you? It might help us. I'm sure he's giving you clues. He likes the game of it.”

Leia took a deep breath. “Give me a second. It's like trying to remember a dream...well...I guess that's exactly what it is. He...he doesn't want to kill me.” Her face twisted in disgust. “He wants to keep me as a pet. He said he is more interested in killing predators than prey because it gives him more strength, but he's not averse to killing prey if it gets in his way.”

“Jesus!” Steve huffed, looking up with his hands on his hips.

Dustin just nodded seriously and said, “Good, Leia, that's valuable information.”

“Oh...and...and he said he won't take me with him yet. He said he has another 'gift' for me and it's not ready yet. He said to tell you all to...” She grimaced, like she was holding back bile, “to let me sleep well for a few nights. He has other work to do and he wants his pet to be healthy when he comes back for her.”

Dustin shrugged, “Well, you do need to sleep. We can't keep you awake forever like this. And if he visits you again, he doesn't intend to hurt you. It might give us more information. Oddly, he might be doing us a few favors here.”

They all looked at him, staring him down in slight disbelief at his blunt bedside manner; all except Leia.

“What?” Leia said, eyeing them all up. “He has a point, guys.”

Eddie flailed his arms stood and saying, “Nooo. No way. No fucking way we're just gonna trust that he means that shit he said and....and...give you to him??” His voice was rising, cracking.

Leia, looked him in the eye standing up and grabbing him by both arms, “Eddie, listen to me. We have to be rational here. Anything we do now has a risk. If he visits me, he can't visit anyone else at the same time, right?”

She looked to Dustin for confirmation. “Right.” he said with a nod.

“Then he can't get to whoever the next 'gift' is to murder. He can't get to any of you. The longer I keep him distracted, the less dangerous he is. Dustin, what...what if all of us make sure music is playing while we sleep, will that block him out from being able to get any of you?”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, eyes flitting around following her train of thought, “Yeah...brilliant. That would work. The only times he's been able to get to you is when the music stopped, and we can't all stay awake all the time.”

Dustin took the lead, deciding which of their team would be room mates for the next few days. Sleeping in shifts and keeping the music playing for the other. Steve and Robin lived together, so they were an obvious choice, and babysitter Steve was quick to offer Dustin a place at their house.

“Eddie? Leia?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, we got it.”

“I...I fell asleep last time and the music stopped and he got to her, man. I don't trust myself,” Eddie said, shaking.

Dustin nodded and said quietly with a hand on his shoulder. “I'll stay with you two here then? I know it's not an ideal...uh...romantic scenario.”

Leia chuckled. “It's okay, Dustin. Our minds aren't exactly on that right now. I mean, the first priority is killing an otherworldly demon wizard, after all. Besides, I'll make you breakfast in the morning.” she said with a smile.

Robin, came closer, her sky blue eyes gazing down to meet Leia's. “How...sorry to ask...but how are you taking all of this so well?”

Leia shrugged, “Vecna's not the first asshole who's tried to ruin my life, intimidate me, and bully me into submission. I guess I know the type.” She paused and smiled to Eddie, “and thanks to people who believe in me, I'm learning how to fight back.”

@sunflowerdaydreamer @veemoon

[aintyourultraviolet]

YEN'S DAY < 8

Dearest Mariel,

First of all.. hallooo!! Sinadya ko talaga na-late bumati nang maayos para main character pa rin ako HAHAHHAHA anyways,,,, I don't plan to make you cry but sorry in advance if you will bc I'm gonna be pouring my heart out here. Hehehe. So here goes nothing,,,,,,,

Happiest Birthday, Ate Yen!!! You're literally my second fave ate (kasi first yung mga cousins ko huhu) anyways, I will never get tired of telling you these things: I AM ALWAYS PROUD OF THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. ALWAYS. IM ALWAYS GONNA BE HERE FOR YOU.

I will forever be grateful for Regine because if it weren't for her hendi siguro kita makikilala. And also that salonpas thing!!!! LIFESAVER!! Crazy how it's almost a year when we first met but it feels like we've known each other for years. Maybe because we have the same wavelength (???) or because we understand each other and we literally have the same brain cells ( which is kinda scary sometimes siyet we need sheezus atp ) or maybe because we have this red string of fate. Maybe we're fated to be friends for life (??) maybe we were destined to meet. Idk but whatever that reason is, I am grateful for the chance you have given me to get to know you more. For unlocking your doors even though you already decided to lock them forever. For opening up your window again. For breaking your walls down.. ( I know this was one of the hardest things to do but still thank you). For letting me meet your life— Franco and Iñigo. Thank you, Ate. Thanks for being so kind. You may not know this but you don't know how lucky we are to have you by our side. REALLY. Idk if you're aware of this but you are indeed lucky. Lucky enough to have a kind and understanding heart that even if someone turns their back against you, you'll get hurt but you'll still understand them. It's a blessing and a curse tbh. But yea.. I hope you won't let anyone take that for granted. AND THEIR LUCKY TOO. SUPER BY SEVENTEEN. Anyways,, I am beyond grateful for all the things you did for me. Especially that one night. One specific night. Thank you for welcoming me with arms wide open that night. I was really scared. REALLY REALLY SCARED. I had to force myself to think that whatever happens I know you'll be there. It helped me little but my fears were stronger that night. But still, I conquered it because of you. You helped me beat my fears and I am forever grateful for that. There are a lot of times that I've conquered my fears with your help. Like literally a lot. Remember that night when I told you about my dad? It was my first time to tell those things I don't share with people. First time to open a fresh wound to someone.. because I know I needed to do that. I needed to release that for me to move forward and I am grateful that you were there that night. I was lost.. I felt the darkness again but thanks to you for passing me the torch of life. I had my hopes again. ): You saved me, Ate Yen. I hope you know that. I hope you know you are saving me everyday.. I hope I am too. (in any way.. )

When you're happy, something in me is healing too. (this is real.. seeing you guys having the time of your lives gives that satisfaction in me that even when I'm not in your lives anymore, even if I'm not included in your plans in the future anymore, I know you are happy. That is the healing part.) When you're sad, my heart aches three times.. my heart aches for you because I know you're kind and you don't deserve that kind of sufferings BUT I also know that without those sufferings, you won't grow out your wings.. Just like what John Green said in Paper Towns— Pain demands to be felt. Without them we won't grow. So let the pain come, my love. Let them come. Embrace them because you have me. Again, I am ready and willing to share half of your struggles so you won't carry them alone. I will walk with you in that path full of thorns until we reach that path of garden full of sunflowers and tulips and roses. And I know I've said this to the wrong person before.. I wanna say it to you.. because you deserve these words ( not patrick).. When someone cut you off out of their life, PLEASE don't hesitate to bring the end of your string to me. Bring the end of your string to me and I'll tie it with mine. I'll make knot that no one can break, not even my demons.

I hope you had a blast today, Ate. I'll make bawi to you when I come back. I know how much you love the sky as much as I love them so here's my gift ( for now huhu). I haven't uploaded them yet except for the plane fifth pic lol. I hope this will bring comfort to you when days are rough and it feels like the world is crumbling beneath your feet. I hope this will make you feel at ease when the voices inside your head gets loud and you need something to distract you. I hope this will give you fresh air so that you can breathe anytime when you feel tired. I hope you find light in these photos everytime the darkness tries to consume you. I hope this will remind you that not all endings are sad. I hope this will bring hope to you just like how it brings hope to me. I hope this will help you heal from the things you don't say to anyone.. I am hoping. REALLY hoping.

Notice how every sunset and sunrise is different from each other but they still give off that radiant color of orange-red-bluish shit color. Different sunset and sunrise but still the same sky. I'd like to say that that's how life works. That's how YEN works. Every struggles and hurdles you have in life is different. They have different levels of pain. But despite of that, you are still you. Yen is still yen. The only difference is, you become wiser the next time you face something very difficult again. You become stronger than you were before— like the radiant color of the sky. The more vibrant they are, the brighter and intense they are. More colorful. More eye-catching.. You give off that vibrant color to everyone. The reason why you are everyone's comfort person. I hope you are your comfort person too.

I have so many things to say, Ate. Like literally so many. But I'll save them for Christmas and New Year hehe. I was planning to give you a written letter but it will take time for you to receive it pa. I prefer to give you a written one rather than this. I'd like to burn and bleed these words to a piece of paper rather than typing them tho lol but either way naman, I know you'll still keep it. (:

I love you so much, Ate Yen. You help me get through everyday (alongside with btsvtxtencteez). One of the few person who pushed me to be the best version of myself. One of those people who believed in me. One of the few person whom I trust with all my life and One of the few person whom I let to see my naked soul. I love you with all my heart. See you soon! Happy Birthday, my love!

Please be happy, always.

—Jeanne.

[wsancho]

I have thoughts 🥲

I agree about kwhazit’s translation, to me it’s the main reference to the main story.

Interesting take on Sabin’s last words. I also noticed a type of softening of anger in a different part of the story.

Specifically, Cyan’s original reaction to the poisoning of his family is less wordy, more enraged and potentially less sympathetic. Woolsey is not exactly sugar-coating, but he pulls on different emotional strings, maybe because he worried that the Japanese tropes wouldn’t be as relatable? Just a thing to note.

I like Sabin’s words in kwhazit’s translation. A minor thing like the end of the world couldn’t do him in, but this? I get that being overcome by this would piss him off. And then it would break his heart.

Sabin wonders about his big brother constantly, while Wolsey’s translation make his concern seem more general. But even if the translation waters it down, Sabin is committed as long as Edgar is, and his final words when leaving Kefka’s tower make it clear that everything Sabin did was to support Edgar. That’s why he’s got those stupid muscles 💪🏼😌 (this Woolseysm is out of character, but I like it ❤️)

I read somewhere that Soraya Saga conceptualized the Figaro twins to be one whole person split in two. I don’t know if she always planned to come up with two characters, but I think she prioritized Edgar (that’s why he’s big bro) and then gave Sabin the qualities that Edgar would not exhibit. Even the choice of name and the whole deal with Figaroan technology is very Edgar-oriented.

From ancestry.com:

The significance of Figaro remains strong in modern-day usage, often evoking the image of a clever and resourceful individual. Its association with the plays of Beaumarchais has left an enduring impact, cementing Figaro's place as a symbol of ingenuity and quick-wittedness.

Both twins are resourceful; as Andrew Bluett said, they pass around their one shared brain cell 😅 But if I were to summarize Sabin’s character I would not say “clever”. I’d describe him as “impulsive” and “earnest”. And I like to think that, in part, the reason behind him having no filter is that he expresses everything that Edgar represses. So a way to know what’s going on with Edgar is to look at Sabin.

There are some clues in astrology as well. I think Soraya Saga relied upon it more heavily than the other devs: the twins are Leo and some Leo qualities are very Edgar while others are very Sabin 🦁 I think the traits of one twin are also in the other, but more subdued.

From astrotheme.com:

The words "I love" encapsulate the character of Leo. Generosity, affection and attractiveness are the qualities which resonate naturally with him.

The musculature is elegant or very strong. Indeed, two types of personalities may be found in Leo, the Herculean type and the idealistic type. The latter is more moral and spiritual, and the former, practical and much more physical.

Of course, he is also fiercely jealous, but he is so dignified that he never shows it. In all circumstances, he behaves proudly, loftily, apparently indifferent to jolts, even though he may be distraught internally.

If you are Leo, your appetite is legendary, and your constitution does not predispose to obesity. You are able to swallow amazingly big quantities of food, probably in order to replenish the huge energy used up during your sports feats or your thundering fits of anger!

The Leo archetype can seem awfully self-centered, but if I pull a birth chart for these boys, there are important Virgo placements, which is an archetype of purity and of service to others. Makes total sense for both twins.

Edgar is shown to think of his brother quite often as well, but he might prevent himself from prioritizing his little brother. Sabin is his subject now, and if Edgar is a good king, then the entire kingdom will be fine, including Sabin.

Edgar can’t keep his cool facade the whole time, but he sure tries.

I'd be scolding the hell out of him after trying to unnecessarily fight an Ultros who was already getting away when the mission was to get Banon to Narshe, and Edgar stood right in front of him and told him "No", and he still jumped, risking his life and risking getting caught by the Empire 😤 ...But Edgar is just happy to see him again 🥺❤️

Sabin is not a Figaroan officer, he’s the dude who’s gonna bend you like a pretzel if you mess with Edgar; plain and simple. Sabin can afford to follow his heart, while Edgar follows rules and diplomacy.

When Sabin visits the item shop in Figaro castle, Woolsey puts some humor in there, while kwhazit’s translation is kinda ruthless, and says more about how serious Edgar is, and how much Sabin respects that.

Another bit at Figaro castle shows Edgar missing Sabin once more, but he only allows himself the few moments they get during quests. After all, Edgar didn’t encourage him to leave, but to choose freely whatever path he wanted. Neither wanted separation, it just turned out to be the only right choice 💔

The way I see it...

There’s a reason why, in the hypothetical scenario of Sabin’s untimely death, Edgar’s death follows soon after: Edgar cannot function without Sabin. He can try and suppress his feelings and prioritize the kingdom and do the noble thing and let him go, but this boy is extremely codependent, and he cannot overcome it because he remains guarded as if his life depended on it.

There’s a reason why, in canon, Sabin gets a character arc and Edgar doesn’t: Sabin’s personal growth is about realizing his value and purpose, which he defines as “being there for Edgar”. On the other hand, Edgar’s hypothetical arc would be about him letting his guard down, but the only thing that can disarm him is losing Sabin. For any growth to occur, he has to be broken, and breaking him is too close to destroying him. Edgar’s arc would be about “Sabin not being there”. Their planned character arcs are mutually exclusive and Edgar's is beyond depressing and extremely nuanced.

It’s hard to infer how Edgar’s final minutes would play out. I can see him being all about the kingdom in his last spoken words, but Sabin is "a process running in the background" of his mind. Edgar conceals his feelings, but he’s not in denial. I think he would worry about the kingdom, and then about Sabin's fate if he were to get pressured to take over as king, which is what Edgar tried so hard to protect him from.

Sabin's Last Thoughts

I'm sorry, I have to share my heartbreak. This is heartbreaking. Don't read further if your heart is at risk of breaking. Consult your doctor before attempting to suffer through heartbreak.

To preamble an unnecessarily excessive amount, a few years ago kwhazit did an AMAZING, step-by-step, detail-filled, context-providing, wonderfully thorough translation of FF6. Like, the entire game: dialog, attack/item/spell names, monster data… more information than you'd find even in an official strategy guide. Should they ever read this, I hope they know how much I appreciate all of the work they put into it, and it's quickly become one of my primary reference sources when looking up something about the game.

Since they included translations of everything, they also included translations of events that may not usually be seen in the game, such as when you fail at a critical event.

FOR A HEARTBREAKING EXAMPLE, it's possible for Sabin to die in the World of Ruin if Celes does not rescue the child from the collapsing house in Tzen quickly enough.

The incredible @wsancho wrote an excellent post on this particular event and how the "failure" option was softened from the original concept (again, consult your doctor before reading their post about twin death).

In the final version of the game, failing to rescue the child in time results in a "fade to black" Game Over screen. Nothing is shown, only implied (thank god).

What I didn't know until recently, [no] thanks to kwhazit, was that Sabin has last lines before the house collapses on him.

The two translations definitely have different emotional weight to them. To me, Woolsey's translation's conveys Sabin meeting his demise with confidence (dare I even say optimism?) that Edgar will continue fighting to rebuild the broken world.

Meanwhile, the original Japanese text (through kwhazit's translation) feels more layered to me, like he is pushing himself to the very last moment, is angry at himself for not being stronger, and is feeling regret that he won't be able to help Edgar anymore.

So, not only does Sabin die, but his final thoughts are always about Edgar. 😭💔

Outside of the game, I think this would be true for Sabin in any scenario, even if he lives to be 94 years old and dies peacefully in his sleep.

And although I love the idea that Edgar's final thoughts would be about Sabin, I'm actually not sure they would be. Again, as wsancho points out in one of her amazing braindump posts, Edgar tends to focus on the welfare of his kingdom above all else. Because of this, I think that his final thoughts could be about Figaro and its future. Perhaps it depends on how well he thinks the kingdom would do without him.

None of this matters, of course, because as far as I'm concerned, both brothers live forever and ever and never die or suffer and are always happy and thriving END OF STORY.

[spookyji]

omg mille…toxic breeding kink soobin and you getting into an argument bc he’s too possessive. so you guys are arguing back and forth but soobin was the cutest little pout and his frown pulls at your heart strings!!! you can’t stay mad at your bin for too long! so what do you guys do? of course you let him shove you into the mattress, gotta make it up to him somehow~ and soobin is one to take advantage of every opportunity he’s given!! you think he’s too possessive and might consider leaving him? well, he’ll make sure to give you something that will anchor you to him for at least 9 months and if you’re more traditional? it’ll be at least 18 years or longer if you just keep letting him pump you full of his seed >_<

O.O i—i think i lost all the brain cells

an argument with possessive!soobin… you’ll never win. so maybe he yanked you away from doing something important without a reason, insisting you had to go, his large frame around yours as he almost has to carry you off, a look of restrained annoyance on his face as he judges you into the car, smothering anger as he drives. and possessive!soobin clenching the steering wheel as he snaps after you’ve told him he can’t do that… but beneath the anger, there’s a throbbing fear, so scared you’ll ever leave, he couldn’t bear the thought. and he won’t say what it was, all that you know is that soobin practically dragged you away, pushing you into your shared apartment with an unusual urgency. he can’t help it, he’s so possessive even the slightest fear has him on edge… so no matter how much you argue, he’ll say it was for your own good, breaking into a sad pout, sadly mumbling that he just can’t say what it was, so fearful that the thought will incite you to leave. and he knows how jealous he is, so unreasonably envious and possessive, but he can’t help it… and so shhh, stay with him?

soobin and his addictive kisses, murmuring if he can make it up to you, sweet manipulation tasting like his love as his lips move against yours, needy and begging for a second chance (maybe ifs… oh, who can keep count~?) and possessive!soobin who shoved you deeper and deeper into the sheets, his lips finding your pretty tits as he tugs down your neckline, an endless mantra of three words, laced with a touch of heavenly reassurances. his heavy bulge pressed against your leg as his lips needily suckle your soft tits, wet with saliva from kisses, your pretty whines only encouraging him further, trailing kisses up your neck as he tugs down his sweatpants, let him~? and possessive!soobin who manipulates your mind, shhh, forget those silly pills you once took… they’ve been sugar for a month now. so dont resist as his big cock pushes into your tight pussy, let him touch the bulge in your tummy with his big hand, thinking of how full you’ll be, of his love. and how you’ll never leave, if he fills you up just as he desires, darling, never think of a thought beyond him. and soobin whose big cock can send you to seventh heaven, so fucked dumb from his size and heavy thrusts, lavish love in the form of marks and messy kisses, don’t think at all. be addicted to his love, beg for him, and only for him as he cums inside, hot seed filling you up to the brim, so much of his possession flooding his mind as his lips claim yours, never think more about it, darling. and soobin who can’t bear to only give you one load… no, you have to take more, ensure you’re his for eternity as he fucks you dumb, pretty love of his all fertile as his cum stains the sheets, spilling from your abused pussy as you beg you can’t take any more, only for soobin’s sugary manipulation to whisper in your ear that he has to, take one more load, sweetheart~? he knows you can, after all… he’ll do anything to keep you his, and wouldn’t you love to bear your shared love, stay with him?

bonus; possessive!soobin who’s in a daze, he lost his mind as he pulls out, cum leaking from your pussy and all sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he greedily stares at your full tummy, long fingers pushing down slightly to see more cum seep out >< whispering a soft promise to love you forever, a kiss pressed to your forehead as his hand rests on your abdomen <3

goddamn possessive soobin n his breeding kink gets me @.@

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Hi Grey! Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Since I did huntlow last time, I'll choose five sterek fics this time:

My Friend Thinks You're Cute

And that's when Stiles sees him, standing in the middle of the crowd, swathed in a black leather jacket, eyes alight as he flashes Stiles the most dazzlingly perfect smile. Derek The Music Major. The guy Stiles has had a massive crush on ever since they shared a class together in Stiles's freshman year. The guy who went on to graduate later that spring and leave town to go on tour with his band. The guy who composed such beautiful music that it made Stiles fall even more stupidly in love with him when he happened upon one of his live performances on YouTube the following summer. The guy who wrote the lyrics to the song he's currently up on stage singing motherfucking karaoke to. Derek Hale, Beacon Hills sweetheart, local legend, and international rising star. Derek Hale, lead guitarist of The Alphas.

Invisible String

He tries to imagine Derek taking up knitting, and has to fight to suppress the fond little flutter that stirs inside his chest at the image of Derek with a half-finished scarf splayed across his lap, yarn wrapped around his stupidly big, strong hands as he works them in an intricate pattern, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, watching movies and working on projects together; has to bite back a bout of giddy laughter at the idea of Derek talking shop about his favorite stitch patterns, wandering down craft store aisles with a mountain of brightly colored, kitten soft skeins clutched in his arms, arguing the merits of aluminum vs. bamboo, cotton vs. wool, with those big surly eyebrows of his, as Stiles strolls along beside him. It's so absurdly soft and domestic that Stiles can't contain the longing sigh that spills out of his mouth at the thought of it.

It's A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

For a while, there's a whole lot of nothing, just the sound of water splashing against tile, the scent of Stiles's Old Spice body wash wafting in the summer air, and— Wait. Is that…is Stiles singing Taylor Swift? Derek tilts his head to the side, catching sight of what is unmistakably Stiles's silhouette framed in the open window, towel wrapped around his waist, using a hairbrush as a makeshift microphone and belting out what Derek is 99% sure is the song Love Story by Taylor Swift.

Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found

He means to send the photo to Scott. Really, he does. But it's barely 9AM and he hasn't had coffee yet so his brain isn't firing on all cylinders, single brain cell chanting an endless chorus of Derek Derek Derek. Which is how he ends up accidentally sending the photo he'd just taken to Derek instead, along with the lovely accompanying caption: seriously scotty, just look at him, I think I'm in love. By the time Stiles realizes his mistake, it's too late to hit cancel. He hears the telltale chime of a successfully sent text, the little grayed-out delivered notification staring back at him with a mocking checkmark. He glances up, watching in abject horror as Derek pulls out his phone. Clocks his exact time of death as the moment Derek's eyebrows arch high enough to meet his hairline.

Hearts Like Wildflowers

Derek's presence is a solid warmth at his side, appearing through a tangle of branches in a blur of black leather and frost-bitten blue. He's been doing that a lot lately — showing up seemingly at random wherever Stiles happens to be. Stiles assumes he'd taken it upon himself to ensure that the pack's ticking time bomb doesn't go rogue and let another ancient trickster demon use his body to hurt those closest to him. He'd complain about that, only he kind of likes knowing that Derek is always there, because maybe he's a little afraid of that happening too, and he's glad to know that Derek will do what needs to be done if things go south. Derek glances over at him, careful eyes watching him as he glares down at the nemeton with a kind of fierce determination, hands balled into fists, shaking in quiet rage, and asks, in a voice that's so soft he almost doesn't hear it— "Why did you come here?" Stiles turns to look at him, eyes filled with tears that don't spill over but instead find their way into his voice. "I just—" he falters, swallows against the sudden tightness in his throat. "I don't want to be afraid anymore. I'm tired of this thing having some kind of sick power over me."

[ashyybees-art]

Officially have finished Adventure Behind the Bronze Door 🎉 😭

What a ride.

Iron triangle-my beloveds-this season fed so well with them (mainly Pangzi and Wu Xie since this was an adventure for primarily them) Countless amount of times I wanted to cry/having my heart string tugged at, especially at the last couple episodes. I can barely put into words how much I love the dynamics illustrated so well in it. 🥺

Pangzi absolute MVP of the Wu Xie protection squad. I still have to watch Tomb of the Sea for that second half of the 10 year period but rn my man locked tf in on being the protector of Wu Xie. They were still sharing a single brain cell so much but at the same time Pangzi was wielding so much aura. (And once again Chen Ming Hao has cemented himself as my favorite Pangzi)

Having watched first season then Reunion and then going back through chronological order makes things hurt so much more to see how Wu Xie became how he is in Reunion. I still have to read the novels and watch a lot more but for right now I have so much beef with the Mystic Nine (and by extension Third Uncle) 😂

Overall: I loved this season. The technical production and visuals are great, soundtrack top tier, actor chemistry and acting top tier, the way the narrative came full circle. It’s at the top of my list with Reunion. (But also makes Reunion hurt so much more since they gave us that retirement , happy family ending and knowing that that gets ripped away at some point to lead into that season)

(^^this lives in my head on repeat I LOVE THEM MY SHAYLAS)

Alright, i'm 5 episodes into Adventure Behind the Bronze Door and I think it's already competing with Reunion for favorite season. Pacing is really good, plot is so intriguing, we have Cheng Ming Hao as Pangzi again (as I learned this was made after Reunion) and the chemistry with this iteration of Wu Xie is also top tier , and soundtrack is chef's kiss (˶✧｡✧˶)

[gokubrain]

Grgahgagahhh KakayVege?? Pls?

Also I would enjoy immensely to inquire your thoughts on BulLaunch please and thank you, please have a nice week!

OKAY i used to be big into bulaunch awhile ago actually LOL its a rly cute ship! i like any wlw ship involving bulma so like. u rly cant go wrong hehe.. i think its not a long-lasting ship tho like i definitely think its a young love kinda thing but i do definitely like it!

as for kakavege lol…

it’s my favorite ship of all time. it’s so intense and meaningful and strong and real… there is sooo much canon shit to back it up… every time theyre on screen together theres insane homoerotic subtext going on…

from the very beginning, goku is excited by vegeta. he uses language like “when i see a strong guy like that, my heart starts pounding” which…… like. okay homosexual alright LOL

then there’s the freeza arc, the entire time theyre together is so… like vegeta sobbing and begging goku to finish off freeza for their people… him making himself vulnerable in that moment in fromt of GOKU of all people… moments like this where vegeta softens around goku make my heart MELT 😭 and then goku GIVES VEGETA A BURIAL.. HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO THAT 😭😭😭 not to mention when goku starts hallucinating vegeta (NAKED FOR SOME REASON??).. like out of all the things his brain couldve come up with to motivate him, he found himself thinking of vegeta…… these are the moments where goku begins to love vegeta (he just doesnt realize it yet. its those moments before u realize ur in love where ur thinking about the person often but you dont yet piece together why…)

and then in the cell arc, when goku dies and vegeta SWEARS HE WILL NEVER FIGHT AGAIN???? LIKE THIS MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL BECAUSE GOKU DIES AND VEGETA’S FIRST REACTION IS TO BE LIKE “alright. well. i have no reason to fight anymore” LIKE FIGHTING IS EVERYTHING TO SAIYANS I CANT BELIEVE HE SAYS THIS AHDHFH

and then ofc buu arc…. the constant moments where they’re worried about each other.. every time they say each other’s names… the fucking majin vegeta fight… vegeta’s hurt at goku’s ssj3 “betrayal” … THE YOU ARE NUMBER ONE SPEECH… ALL OF IT IS SO HOMOEROTIC AND GAY ITS RIDICULOUSHAHDHF

kakavege is just real to me. its just canon. i cant see any other way like to me its just real… to me its about two people who yearn for strength falling in love with each other… its about two people who keep each other motivated to better themselves… its about two people who share a passion for fighting and keep each other entertained,, its about the last two of their kind finding comfort in one another’s presence… its about the universe making sure they find their way to each other… its about soulmates, the red string of fate, intertwined destinies…

and dont even get me started on age 801. they DIE TOGETHER?? THEY GO OUT FIGHTING ONE ANOTHER WITH NO HOLDS BARRED??? A BLAZE OF GLORY SO BRILLIANT THAT A SUPERNOVA IS SEEN YEARS LATER ON EARTH??????? HELP ME AHSJFJJX

[uwuwriting]

A little early for that w/ Todoroki, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: hii can i req a hc of todo, shinsou, and bakugou seeing y/n taking care of eri then they’ll be like “i want a baby with you” :D - anonymous

Don’t get me started on the latest BNHA chapter. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’ll try to make a double upload today so maybe expect a song fic after this one Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Todoroki Shoto 

-It was during Eri’s visit during christmas that it hit Todo. 

-You were dressed in a Santa costume just like everyone else with Eri gripping your hand as you took her around the room explaining all about Christmas celebrations. 

-It was a very mundane moment if you think about it. 

-You were being kind and caring to a child who had suffered immensely at the hands of Overhaul and you wanted to show her what the holiday was all about. 

-Now that he thinks of it, it shouldn’t have struck him like it did. 

-His chest became warm and fuzzy, his cheeks heating up a bit as he stared at you and Eri. 

-Then you kneeled down and brought Eri into a hug, raising her into the air so she could place an ornament on the class’s tree and it was game over for him. 

-He prides himself in being a rather collected person but at that moment he lost all sense of control over his emotions. 

-His mouth hung open and his chest started to squeeze, knocking the breath out of him. 

-He couldn’t help the thoughts of the both of  you owning a house somewhere not very far from Tokyo, waking up to you every morning , making breakfast with you and enjoying all the moments you shared. 

-Then other images flooded his mind. 

-Sitting in the living room as you steadied your toddler, a perfect mix of the two of you, helping them waddle towards him. 

-Him helping them place the ornament at the very top of your Christmas tree every time you decorated.

-He could see your smile so vividly he almost thought it was real. 

-It was a ridiculous thought for a 16 year old to have and he knew it but in that moment he let himself imagine it. 

-Before he knew it you were standing next to him, Eri running off to Aizawa excited to share what she just learned about christmas,  arms crossed over your chest as you let out a happy sigh. 

- “My santa work is done for the day.”

- “You would make a great mom” 

- *pikachu meme*

-He sensed your confusion *and so did your dead ancestors*

- “I want to be next to you when that happens.” 

-Girl you got whiplash from this whole conversation. 

-You couldn’t decide if you were soft and giddy since he basically said that he wants to start a family with you or if you were terrified because he said he wants to start A FAMILY WITH YOU WHEN YOU’RE BARELY 16. 

-In his defense he didn’t say he wanted to start now. 

-So you kinda calmed down. 

- “I-um thank you Sho. I think you would make a great father too.”

-Blushy blushy baby after that one. 

-Some denial sprinkled on top because trauma but blushy blushy boy. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Okay now third year Shinsou is a stressed Shinsou. 

-A third year you is a stressed you. 

-And a field day with your now ten year old somewhat trauma free adopted by your homeroom teacher child was what you both needed. 

-Shinsou is like a big brother to Eri at this point. 

-He has babysat her one too many times to not be considered at least a stable figure in her life. 

-You had decided to take a stroll in the park, the autumn air and all the pretty leaves making it a sight to behold. 

-Plus it had a pond with ducks. 

-And you love ducks. 

-Shinsou had brought some bread crumbs so you could feed them and that’s what you were doing when it hit him. 

-That weird domesticity. 

-You were crouched down on Eri’s height, one arm wrapped securely around her small waist so she wouldn’t fall into the pond and the other was outstretched with a piece of bread, motioning to the ducks to approach you. 

-It was a nice scene, picture perfect if you asked him and it did something to his heart strings. 

-Just like Todo he imagined walking home with you after a tiring day at your agency, your hands intertwined, matching golden bands circling your ring fingers. 

-He imagined a little Y/N being next to you and not Eri. 

-Vibrant purple hair sticking out at every which direction as they would throw bread at the ducks maybe even calling him over when one got too close. 

-He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you standing in front of him, waving your hand over his eyes so you could get his attention. 

- “Earth to Toshi!” 

-You giggled when he shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared at your smiling features. 

- “Eri is hungry-” “You are hungry Y/N-chan!!!” “- and she wanted to go get some good old onigiri from that new shop that opened down the street.” “Lies…”

-You side-eyed the little girl who outed you, her own eyes staring right back in accusation as you let out a sigh saying under your breath “I’m hungry”

-He couldn’t control his laughter as it bubbled from his lips, ruffling Eri’s hair while giving you a kiss on the lips as he circled his arm around your waist and took Eri’s with his other one. 

- “Can’t say no to my girls now, can I?” 

-It was later that night when he voiced his thoughts. 

-You were asleep in his dorm, laying basically on him with your head tucked in his neck as you breathed evenly. 

- “It’s a little early to think of kids but I can’t wait to have one with you.” 

-And with that he fell asleep his dreams being filled with images of you.

Bakugou Katsuki 

-You managed to get him to say that???

-Mister tough as balls?

-Mister imma roundhouse kick you if you look at me with affection in your eyes?

-Someone get this girl a medal. 

-But in all seriousness it was a very motherly move. 

-You were in your second year, the events of the war with the villains still haunting all of you so everyone was keeping an eye on their loved ones and their classmates. 

-Bakugou was no exception .

-Seeing people getting hurt severely, seeing himself so defeated and hurt during those battles had rattled him and he would always linger close to you, a slight paranoia having taken his place in his heart the past few months. 

-You understood why he did it, why he hovered next to you most of the time and if you were being honest it didn’t really bother you * except from that one time you went to the bathroom and he called you three times in a row bc he couldn’t see you and panicked*

-Eri was running around with Kaminari and Sero, the three of them playing tag with the one brain cell they all shared at the moment. 

-Suddenly, Eri tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the pavement, small tears forming in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. 

-In a flash you were next to her, a hand massaging her knee around the area of the wound while the other one was cupping her cheek, your thumb making small circles on the girl’s cheekbones. 

- “It’s just a scratch. See? It’s not that bad.”

-Bakugou was just staring at the scene unfolding in front of him, his immediate thoughts being that you looked so motherly in that moment. 

-The concern and the reassurance reminded him of his mother when she would calm him down after he got hurt, before she became a pain in the ass *as he likes to say*.

-Without him even realizing it he made a mental image of your shared family. 

-A house in the outskirts, with a yard, maybe a dog running around. 

-But most importantly a little demon that looked like you, climbing onto your shared bed on his day off, nestling in between you two as it went back asleep.

-You making breakfast while having them in your arms. 

-He really wished he could see that now. 

-But he’s a little young and you wouldn’t really like having a baby before finishing high school sooo he kinda buried it. 

-He told you about it when you both were in his dorm getting ready for a movie night. 

-It was a more aggressive approach but you got the point of his little rant. 

- “I want to spend my life with you too Katsu.” 

- “SHUT UP SHITTY WOMAN!”

- “OI!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22​ @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @luluwiie​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​

[yakshakumi]

Cuddles? Always <33

hii :)) it's kumi here!! this is my first post and I decided to write a oneshot for mikey. to be honest I still don't really know how to use tumblr? but ig I'll figure things out on the way. anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this oneshot :D

summary | mikey get jealous over a pillow

word count | ~1698

cw | bonten!mikey x reader, bonten!reader, sanzu mentions, oneshot, not proof read, ooc (??), fluff (mostly at the end), genshin mentions, xiao(*) is just my personal preference, jealousy and slight possessiveness(?), cursing and bad words, insecurity

It was a long day before mikey was finally able to trudge through the door to your shared penthouse. Throwing himself onto the couch as sanzu helped him clean the area up a bit before carrying over a midnight snack, one of his favourite, dorayaki.

Settling it down onto the glass surface beside him, his gaze lingered over his boss who hasn't said a word nor moved from his position ever since he got comfortable, not even when his beloved snack was in front of him. "Boss. y/n sent me a text earlier, said she finished the job sooner than expected."

Mikey shuffled a bit upon hearing sanzu's words, the arm resting above his eyes now supporting his upper body as he slowly gets up. He squints at sanzu, eyes silently scrutinising him before he finally asks. "Why'd she text you, and not me?"

Silence hangs through the air as sanzu attempts to use his remaining brain cell to come up with an answer that would satisfy his boss, the after-effects of the pills he took before the final meeting of the day finally kicking in. He was far too light headed and drowsy.

But for his king, he would do anything. And that definitely included keeping him happy 24/7, without the need to feel jealous over his subordinate talking to his lover. Even though she was an executive too, and they had to interact one way or the other due to work.

Slightly slurring over his words, he manages to string out a response. "She probably thought you wouldn't check your phone because of the busy schedule today."

"Mm, is that so."

Eventually lifting his eyes towards the corridor to your bedroom, he waves sanzu off for the night. Well, it was technically 2 in the morning, but that doesn't matter. Muttering a quick 'yes boss' and wishing him goodnight, sanzu turns around and disappears into the night. Mikey's back is hunched as he shuffles into the room quietly knowing that you were asleep. Although the lights were off, he could still see your curled up figure, wrapped snugly in the blanket.

The moonlight caressed your face, emitting a soft glow. Your eyelashes twitched ever so slightly while you scrunched your nose, a small frown displayed on your face. These were the moments that he had looked forward to at the end of every day, the motivation that kept him going even in his darkest times. You didn't even need to be awake to make his entire being soften as he watches you with gentle eyes. You didn't even need to look at him with those eyes filled with undying love to make his heart flutter as it did all those years ago, when you had first met.

Carefully lifting the edge of the covers furthest from you, he slips into them, sighing in content as the warmth engulfs his body. Fighting the exhaustion and weariness, he looks at you once more. You were back facing him so he couldn't see your face, but he could see the way your body reacted to the bed sinking when he got in.

A small smile graces his features as he reaches out towards you, tenderly drawing small patterns of dorayaki on your back. Normally that was all it took before you would stir and turn around to welcome him home, eyes lidded and half awake. After which, you would snuggle into his chest, quickly falling asleep again.

Mikey needed to feel his arms around your body, needed to feel his skin on yours. Desperately, needed to bury his face in your hair as he inhales the lingering floral scent from the shampoo you use, never failing to help him relax into sleep's clutches.

However, instead of the usual, today was different. You didn't even bother to turn around though you knew he was home and needed cuddles. Suddenly he wasn't tired anymore. Eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion, he pokes you with more force. A faint gasp leaves his lips when you shrug him off and continue with your beauty sleep.

He gets up, a gust of cold air rushes into the blanket making you shiver. Finally, you turn around to tell him to sleep, but you're met with a very pouty mikey. Seeing that your attention was on him, he lets out a huff mumbling with an accusatory tone. "Why aren't you giving me my cuddles..?"

Chuckling softly at him, you jokingly answer back while slightly moving your body to show him the xiao* body pillow you bought a few days back. "He gives me better hugs, you're being replaced."

Watching his pout drop immediately you can't help but laugh some more. Before you know it he's reaching for his phone, you're unsure of what he's going to do but your eyes continue to trail after his every action. You silently listen in on the conversation he's having with the person on the other end.

Boss? Is everything okay?

"Sanzu, bring a lighter."

A lighter? Is there a body you need to dispose of? I got it. I'm turning back give me a few minutes.

Gaping at mikey, who just innocently returned your gaze as though what he was planning was a very normal thing. No way was he going to even be able to touch your beloved xiao* body pillow, not on your watch. The both of you sat there motionless, waiting for sanzu to arrive.

With every passing second, you hugged the pillow closer to your body, arms protectively wrapped around it. Although his face remained stoic as ever, you noticed the way he clenched his hand tightly, and how his body became tense as he bore holes into the body pillow with his sharp glare.

The sound of the front door unlocking and footsteps overwrote the heavy silence, and soon sanzu came knocked on the bedroom door.

"Boss, may I come in?"

"Mm. Hurry up."

"So where's the body-"

Sanzu cuts himself short when he peers in the direction mikey's pointing at. You, hugging a body pillow.

y/n?? and is that one of the characters of a game she recently started playing? ... oh, I see now. I was called here for nothing.

Sighing, he turns to mikey for instructions, giving up in this hopeless situation. Mikey flicks his wrist at the pillow you're clinging onto. "Take that thing and burn it. Now. Make sure there's nothing left of it."

Sanzu's head whips in your direction, his eyes screamed for you to just give it up. But that only made you hold onto it tighter, refusing to let go even as he tried tugging it away from you. You let out a shriek, your face painted with horror. The once quiet neighbourhood was now filled with your cries and sanzu half-yelling back at you due to the respect he had left for you as mikey's lover.

"NO, SANZU WHAT ARE YOU DOING. STOP. YOU'RE GONNA RIP IT YOU MOTHER FUCKER."

"Well, maybe if YOU stop CLINGING TO IT LIKE IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD, it wouldn't rip."

"IF I LET GO YOUR GONNA BURN IT YOU ASSHOLE. I'M STUPID, BUT NOT THAT STUPID! MIKEY TELL HIM TO STOP."

Shrugging his shoulders, he flashed you an uninterested smile before looking away. Pretending that he had nothing to do with it. But once you threatened to ignore him for the whole of next week his expression changed and he signalled sanzu to let go. Exhaling in relief, you scramble to check the body pillow. Thankfully there were no signs of it being damaged.

You throw mikey and sanzu a scowl, as though they had just betrayed you in the worst way possible. Which, at that point in time, they basically did. Placing the body pillow safely behind you and away from their sight, you swiftly smack both their heads with all the strength you could muster then. "You're lucky there's nothing. I would've sued you for trespassing on private property and damage to my pillow. Bastards."

Exaggerating a sigh, you whisper curses under your breath. You ran a hand through your hair as mikey stared while sanzu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, 'm too tired for this shit right now. 'cmere mikey, and get the fuck out of my house sanzu."

Sanzu 'tsked' whilst muttering incoherently before stalking out of the room, not so gently slamming the door behind him. Now it was just you and mikey again. Sneaking a glance at your xiao* pillow, you decided it was best to pretend to forget about it first. You gesture for mikey to come over, which he gladly complies with, satisfied now that he has your full attention.

As an apology, this time you're the big spoon. His head resting on your chest, arms effortlessly finding their way around your waist he draws you even closer. One of your hands expertly massaging his scalp the way he likes it, the other calmly running up and down his back. Knowing that at this rate the darkness would consume him even quicker, he hastily murmurs in a shaky voice.

"Please don't replace me...?"

"Hmm? It was a joke love. I won't ever replace you, you should know that. After all, I've stuck with you this entire time, and there are definitely no plans of leaving you all alone here. I'm sorry, it wasn't a nice joke, I won't do it again."

Pushing his hair away, you press soft kisses to his face. One on his forehead, both his cheeks, his nose, and last but not least, his trembling lips. You cup his cheeks, your thumb brushing against his pale skin, lifting his head to make him look at you. Gingerly, you place your forehead against his, noses brushing, eyes closed. You relish in the moment for a while before letting out a small whisper. Just for him, only for him to hear.

'I love you, so, so much.'

You repeat your words, louder this time.

"I love you more than anything, okay? Never think otherwise. I honestly don't know what I would be doing without you. You're my whole universe, and I hope I'm yours too."

You can feel his grip around you get impossibly tighter. But it was possible, because you were here in his arms.