#pretty much everyone from class a tbh

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[running-in-the-dark]

had a conversation about gym class with my friend who I went to school with today - it was depressing but also nice to hear that her experience with it (at that particular school) was just as bad as mine.

I don't think the way my school treated gym class was entirely normal tbh. it was completely different to the school I went to after, anyway. and everyone I talked to there only knew gym class to be a pretty fun, lighthearted thing. at my old school it was only about achievement, you had to be perfect, if not you were usually yelled at. and if you couldn't participate because you were feeling a bit ill (but not enough to stay home from school) you were ridiculed and/or insulted in front of the whole class. this happened with every gym teacher we had over the whole 9 years there.

it felt like two hours of punishment, there was nothing good about it. and it made at least the both of us feel like any kind of exercise/sport, especially in a group setting, was terrifying - for years after. even my much more positive experience at the other school I went to didn't make that go away.

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,�� was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling.��

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You���

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San��s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[nonasuch]

Miss Universe National Costume 2024, Part 2!

Splitting this off into a new post so I'm not clogging up everyone's dash quite as much.

Miss Malta is some sort of environmental protection Sailor Scout. I think the giant bow would look better on the back of the skirt but otherwise this is solid.

It has just come to my attention that I skipped over Miss Albania and several other A/B countries, back at the beginning. I sincerely apologize! She went to all this trouble putting together a Fifth Element cruise ship passenger costume, and I nearly missed it.

Miss Armenia, in what even I have to admit would be a legit Princess Leia fit.

Miss Bahrain, adding some green to her Gold And Vaguely Historical look, along with what is either a comically large prop chalice or an upside-down lamp.

Miss Bangladesh appears to believe that adding two plush tigers from the toy store around the corner from the pageant venue will conceal the fact that she is just wearing a tiger-print evening dress. Miss Bangladesh is incorrect.

Miss Belgium. Girl. No.

Miss Belize let the seventh-grade art class do her whole costume, which was a bold choice.

Okay, I think that's everyone I missed! Back to alphabetical order. And I should have to rely less on shitty screenshots, now. Some countries were benefiting from the low resolution, tbh.

Kind of feel like Miss Maldives had a luggage mishap and she's just wearing the outfit she packed for a slightly dressy dinner.

Miss Martinique's costume would honestly have looked better in the shitty screencap version. The construction is... bad. It's bad.

Feel like we're in a little bit of slump here. Miss Mauritius did not stick enough butterfly appliqués to her gown to conceal that it is, in fact, just a regular evening gown.

Slump officially over! We are so back. Everyone say thank you, Miss Mexico.

I would like this better if it had just committed to the giant skirt and not felt the need to make it a Sexy Miniskirt look. Sorry, Miss Moldova.

Miss Mongolia wanted to stand out from all the other gold armor on stage, so she decided to a) wear cooler armor and b) bring a bow and arrow instead of a sword. Great work, Miss Mongolia.

Starting to feel like I'm picking on the smaller countries that probably don't have a huge pageant culture or the budget for really elaborate costumes, but on the other hand Miss Montenegro's costume is super low-effort AND the fabrics look cheap, so what am I supposed to do?

Okay, this looks like a pretty standard Miss Universe Sexy Bird, yes? Well, THIS is how Miss Myanmar entered the stage:

She had to fight her way out of that thing! God only knows what the visibility was like in there.

I think the hat is doing most of the heavy lifting to keep Miss Namibia's costume from being Just An Evening Dress, sadly.

Oh, yikes. It's more obvious in motion but Miss Nepal's bodice looks like it's made of craft foam and it fits real weird. The rest of it looks a little like she got together with Miss Cyprus and a pile of tablecloths for a sewing bee last night, I'm sorry to say.

Miss Netherlands has chosen a Tribute to Delft. I think if I were in charge of this costume I would do a much fuller skirt that falls from the waist, instead of the weird trumpet-skirt-with-hoop we've got here. And, obviously, I would make the windmill on the bodice actually spin.

It looks like she's having some issues keeping the wings and peplum in place, but I really like Miss New Zealand's costume from a design perspective. It at least slightly resembles the bird it's supposed to be (New Zealand fantail) and I think the feather pattern is meant to be in a Maori art style.

Miss Nicaragua is a Sexy Cathedral, which I think might be a Miss Universe first and is definitely a big old step closer to drag.

Okay, pausing here to get the next batch ready.

[zozosrozo]

Choi Su-bong/Thanos (Squid Game) x fem! reader HCS

IM OBSESSED WITH THIS MAN!!!!!

also first ever post?! it’s a little short, but hope ya enjoy!!

SFW:

• he ADORES physical touch

• touching u at every chance he gets, like even simple hand holding, leaning against u

• HE LOVES IT ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES FROM U!!

• casually grabs u by ur ass in public, or give u a lil slap. when u confront him about it, he acts like he dont know what are u talking about, then giggle

• using ur breast like fidget toy, when he’s stressed

• squeezing it, when he feels like it

• shoving his head between ur boobs, bro can stay like that for a good 10 minutes until he calms down

• if u ask him if he would still love u as a worm, he would tell u that he’s not a zoophile

• pet names!! baby, babe, princess are his favs!

• he’s not so good with commitment and stuff like that, would prefer an open relationship (one sided tho, he's so possesive of u)

• have huge jealousy issues when it comes to u

• a male species near u??? he goes into rage mode, getting aggressively touchy to claim u! show everyone that u are his!!

• would apologise to u with rap songs

“Y/N” he screamed outside your house. throwing rocks at the window to wake u up.

“what the fuck…” u muttered to yourself, as u walked over to the window to check what this idiot come up with this time.

as soon as he saw your face, he screamed again, his hands clutching onto his chest “SEÑORITA!!! I WANT TO APOLOGISE TO U!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!! U DO REALISE THAT ITS 3 AM RIGHT NOW???” u screamed back at him, slightly leaning forward through window.

“I LOVE U!!!!!” he get on his knees.

“ARE U HIGH?????” u asked, clearly pissed at his presence.

“HI!!!!!” he said as he waved his hands to u, enthusiastically with a goofy grin.

even after this response, u can’t tell if he’s high. that’s pretty much how he’s acting regardless if he’s on drugs or not.

he turn on boombox, a cliche beat hit your ears. he stands up and cleared his throat.

“Yo, I messed up, I admit it, I’m a clown,

Flirting like a fool when you weren’t around.

But I swear, it was harmless, just a slip of the tongue,

Now I’m here confessing where I went wrong.

I told her, "Hey, nice shoes," and that’s all I meant,

But now I’m in the doghouse, paying the rent.

Baby, you’re the star, the queen of my heart,

And that other conversation? A throwaway part.

She laughed at my joke, yeah, I felt kinda cool,

But now I see, I was the class clown fool.

I’d never trade you for some silly chat,

You’re the boss, the CEO, I’m just the doormat.

I’ll buy you flowers, write your name in the sky,

Sing off-key if it’ll dry your eyes.

I’ll even quit drugs if you need me to,

Just don’t leave me hangin’, I’m a mess without you.

So baby, I’m here, on my knees with this beat,

Admitting my crimes, can’t handle defeat.

Let’s laugh this off, put it in the past,

‘Cause you and me, girl, we’re built to last.”

he end up the song showing a small heart formed with his thumb and index finger.

u sighed “all right, come inside”

“YAYY!!!” he did a happy jump and clapped his feet in midair.

• tbh he’s so silly

• steals flowers from a random garden for u

• night visits, but uses a window instead of a door to enter ur place, literally like some kind of teenager

• even if u gave him the keys to ur apartment, he will use the window no matter what

it was dark outside, about 11 pm. u were coming back from work. damn how exhausted u felt. some arguments with clients, boss yelling at u. it was not ur best day for sure.

u checked ur phone. still no text from Thanos. why he was ghosting u? probably he don’t want to deal with ur complains about how bad ur day went.

u opened the apartment door. u don't give a damn about anything. you plan to go to bed right away, you don't have the strength to change your clothes, wash yourself or eat something.

you threw everything aside and went to the bedroom. when you turn on the light in the room, you see your boyfriend lying on his side, resting his head on his hand, rose in his teeth.

“U WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK???” u flinched. u can’t get used to Thanos randomly spawning in ur house.

“and i missed u too, princess” he grinned, standing up and then theatrically hand over the rose to u.

“i brought ur fav burgers and lotta beer” he said, pointing out at ur kitchen.

“thanks” u smiled softly at him. u can’t help but melt inside at his behaviour. he’a an asshole, but what a cute asshole.

“no problem, babe” he leaned to u, giving u a tight hug. burying his face in the crook of ur neck.

• avoids deep emotional conversation

• would tell that he loves u, but he don’t put much weight into that

• he’s saying it casually like it’s common sense that he loves u

• painting each others nails!!!!

NSFW:

• pansexual king, but he wouldn’t label himself

• he don’t care about gender, he fucks who he consider as cute and that’s it!!

• when u ride him, he would comment something like: WROOM WROOM!! or YEEHAW!!!

• A TOTAL FREAK….

• piss kink (y’all can’t prove me wrong)

• HE LIKES IT DIRTY!!!!

• public sex

• like fingering u in a club or on a party, sometimes anal when he's high

• claiming u like that in front of other people?? IT TURNS HIM ON SO BADD

• never a sub, it would hurt his ego

• bro don’t know what gentle sex is

• always rough and aggressive

• smokes weed/cigarettes during sex, blowing smoke in your face

• talking about himself in third person "yeah, babe. the great Thanos will make u feel so good”

“u like that slut? u like Thanos’s dick that much??”

• he’s not into after care. usually he just rolls down on bed, doesn't even bother putting on clothes, hug u tightly and fall asleep like that

[sinsofsummers]

cupcake

1.9k | teacher!logan x fem!student!reader

(gif not mine!!)

summary: logan eats you for lunch. warnings: porn! teacher!logan and student!reader, so a bit of a taboo age gap, but an established situationship. oral (f receiving), desperate logan—like he is A LEWSER, p in v, creampie because he doesn’t last long (because he���s a whore), logan is a slut for ur releases mixed together, sub!logan tbh, let me know if i miss any! note: wow. sorry. this was also supposed to be a night of writing a longer fic. but i think this is my brand! short and sweet and salacious little things! enjoy, my loves! also i'm tagging @cavillscurls , @bren-lee-bear0404 , @ieatgoldfishy and @hughverine for this one cause...it just seemed like u guys were extra eager for it hehehe!

You can sense him behind you as you make your way down the corridor, heading for your room. You’ve just gotten out of an exam, and as the relaxation-lover you are, you’re thinking of one thing and one thing only—your bed, and curling up in it.

But just like Logan can sense you at all times, you’re no stranger to the feeling of being under his watchful gaze. It’s a heady feeling, and even though you can’t see him, you know that if you turn around he’ll be just a few paces behind you. 

And maybe you shouldn’t have gotten under your history teacher in an attempt to get over him, but by now it’s far too late. Logan has all but ruined everyone for you, anyway, a fact that you’re sure he would put on a billboard if you’d let him.

You put your head down and pretend to ignore the sound of his footsteps getting faster. 

You smirk. Thankfully the hallway is empty, or you’d have to answer for why your history teacher is chasing you down. 

He’s not exactly discreet; or at least, not when you’re in the same room as him. Whether it’s his intense brown eyes staring you down like a challenge, or his hands somehow finding their way to your shoulders, or your hands, trying to look innocent enough…you’re pretty sure Logan’s made it obvious. 

“Hey.”

There he is.

You pause, about to turn the corner, but he swings a hand around your arm and makes you whirl around to face him. His eyes are hard, but there’s a spark of mischief that has you flashing a tight-lipped smirk back in his face, blinking slowly. 

“Yes, Professor?” you cross your arms, holding the textbooks in your hands to your chest. “Did I miss an assignment?”

Logan’s mouth twitches into an amused grin, and he tilts his head. “C’mere,” he says gently, and tugs you toward the nearest classroom—his own. 

You’ve had your fair share of classes here, but you blush as he closes the door and sidles up behind you, his broad, heavy chest pressing against your back. 

“Where’ve you been, sugar?” His voice is smooth, low, and reeks of sex. You know exactly why you’re here.

Your throat goes dry, but you swallow and turn around, taking a step back. With a wink, you keep your hands clutched to your textbook. “I’ve been working.” 

You’re goading him. “If you hadn’t noticed, I still need to study for my exams,” you say nonchalantly, and watch as he confidently strides forward, following you up to the front of the room. 

In no time at all, his desk hits the backs of your thighs, stopping you from your retreat. Logan’s only a step away from you and capitalizes on it. You’ve got no room to squirm away; he towers over you and puts his hands on his desk, trapping you there.

“Time for a break, I think,” he hums, nipping at your jaw when you chuckle and turn away from his attempt to kiss you. “You’ve been working that brain so hard,” he continues, tugging the textbook out of your hands and tossing it to the floor with a heavy thud. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re still pleased at the admission. You take it upon yourself to hop up on the desk, though it doesn’t give you much more leverage; he’s still got the upper…everything. “Oh, you have?” 

Logan lifts a hand to cup your jaw and neck, bringing your face closer to him. His hand is rough but the guidance of his touch is gentle, and he rests his forehead against yours. His next words are a whisper. “I have,” he nods. “You look so sweet, sugar. Can’t you just take a break?”

Your stomach turns in a familiar knot, and your thighs tense. It’s not that you haven’t fooled around on his desk before. But you really do have exams to study for.

“I know,” you sigh, turning to press a series of kisses to his beard. “I know, I want to be done, too. But I—”

“Then be done,” he whispers, his other hand landing on your thigh. “You’ll pass all your exams, bub, you know you will. Such a smart girl,” he says as his hand creeps toward the inside of your leg. “Why don’t you let me do something for you, smart girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek, but it does nothing to hide your smile. “Logan,” you whine, trying your best to sound exasperated. “I can’t just drop my panties for you everytime you want.”

His hand has wandered to the waistline of your shorts; an elastic band is all that bars him from your thin panties. 

“Of course,” he says, and then his eyes dart down to the crux of your legs as he hooks a finger in your waistband, tugging it away from your body. “But you sure do leave them sopping wet, don’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Well, if they weren’t before, they are now.

Your jaw drops open an inch, and for a moment you don’t know what to say.

Another finger hooks into your waistband, and he swipes his fingertips across your lower stomach, not daring to go any further until you give him the go ahead. “Please, sugar,” he whispers, and his voice shakes as he tilts your head up, holding his lips just an inch from your own. 

“I’ll be quick. I won’t even tease, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your face, that delicious hint of tobacco making you flutter your eyes closed.

“Logan…” you try again, but he ducks his head into your neck and whimpers. Whimpers. 

“I’ll be good and quick, bub,” he says again. “Just let me taste you. I won’t ask for anything else, I swear.”

“Yeah right,” you say breathlessly, your composure slipping. “You always want more.”

“Can’t help it,” he breathes heavily, and his hand clenches your shorts in a fist. “M’gonna go insane if I can’t taste you, cupcake.”

You’ve never seen him this desperate, this much of a loser for your pussy, that you choke out a sigh and push his hand down your stomach. His eyes go wide and his mouth stutters as his fingers reach your mound, shoulders shuddering at the velvety smooth touch of your core. 

“Fine,” you say quietly, a smile growing on your face. “But just for a minute.”

“Minute’s all I need, sugar.” Logan doesn’t waste his time, molding his lips to yours with a deep groan that borders on the side of a growl, something that ignites a fire in your gut. 

In a flash, he’s practically torn your shorts from your body and he’s getting on his knees, eyes flitting up to yours as he leans into your core. The flush of cool air on your lower half is almost relieving. 

He pauses, closing his eyes right as he’s about to dive in. And he sucks in a breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal. It’s like a fucking ritual for him. Like a monk bent to pray, he worships the source of your sweetness.

You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair. “You’re such a freak,” you breathe, but the humor leaves your voice as he darts his tongue out to flick your clit. 

And with your hands in his hair, he growls into your pussy and laps at it like a starving man, swirling circles around your clit and wasting no time before his fingers are teasing your entrance. 

“God,” you gasp, squeezing your thighs around his head. 

He lifts his head, and you wish you could take a picture of how fucking desperate he looks, with his beard already glistening with your wetness and his eyes wide as a puppy’s. “Not God,” he huffs, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Just me, bub.”

“Shut the fuck up and make me come,” you sigh, tilting your head back and letting out a soft giggle. “Your minute’s almost up.”

Of course, you don’t have any plans on cutting him off. Once he gets his tongue on your core, you won’t be satisfied until he’s filling you to the brim. 

He moans with every drop that slips out of you and lands on his tongue, which only makes your pussy weep more for him. “Come on, baby,” he says into you, his fingers slipping inside you and stretching you deliciously over his thick digits. “Come on daddy’s face.”

He has the gall to ask you to call him daddy? When he just spent the last ten minutes begging to get on his knees for you?

You almost laugh, but then his fingers curl inside you. He’s hitting that one spongy spot that has you arching your back, your eyes rolling back and your hand pressing down on his head, holding him to your core as you ride out your release. “Fuck, Logan,” you whine, rolling your hips into his mouth to make the ecstasy last longer.

He pulls away from you, and you can’t even lift your head before you hear the clink of his belt hitting the floor. His face comes into view, and then his tip is sliding against your slit, throwing you into a frenzy as your legs shake at the sensitivity. 

“I’m sorry, sugar,” he says, voice hoarse as he circles your clit with his angry, leaking tip. “I’m close already, I just wanna…”

“You wanna fill me up,” you finish breathlessly, head resting against his desk.

“Yes,” he whimpers, and you swear you could come again at the sound of it. “Please, cupcake.”

You nod, a string of yes please falling from your lips. And not a moment later, he’s shoving himself inside, and suddenly you realize how empty you’d felt all day before this moment, before his thick cock was making room for itself in your body. 

He doesn’t look like he’ll last long enough to give you another orgasm, but you don’t really care; he looks so fucking pretty like this that it’ll be enough to fuel an entire night of play when you’re on your own.

With a guttural groan and a few uneven thrusts, Logan bursts. The swing sound of metal claws unsheathing themselves is like a drug as he empties himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, cupcake,” he shudders, laying himself over you on the desk. “M’sorry I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay,” you wrap an arm around his shoulders, savoring the feeling of his dick still pulsing inside you. “I like it when you’re so…”

You trail off. Nothing can quite describe the essence of Logan when he’s begging to eat you out. But there’s something so undeniably filthy about someone like Logan—your rugged, perfect Professor Logan—shedding his grumpy exterior for a taste of you.

The two of you lay there for a few more moments before he straightens, pulling you to a sitting position. He slowly pulls out, catching his seed and pushing it gently back inside you as best he can. 

You hum at the sight, and finally stand, pulling your wrecked shorts back onto your hips. “How are you gonna explain that?” You point at the small puddle of your releases, mixed together.

His hair is still messy, his fingers still shining with your arousal, but he winks. Claws retracted, he swipes a finger through the mess and puts it to his lips, drinking down the result of your pleasure. 

“Frosting,” he grins, and the return of the cocksure professor you know so well has returned. He presses a kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear. “From the sweetest of cupcakes.”

[hiiikiko]

𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖇𝖊

pure smut tbh, bully!ellie x reader

tw: bully!ellie, sweet!reader, sadistic notes, maschistic notes, and maybe a few more idk lol

Ellie hated you, she couldn’t put her finger on why, though. Maybe it was the stupid bows in your effortlessly curly hair, the way those pretty long lashes would bat up at her when she slammed you into a locker, or maybe… maybe it was the fact that you just had to be so fucking sweet to everyone, sweet as can be.

She bit harder on the wood of her No.2 pencil, her eyes boring a hole into the back of your head where that stupid fucking pink bow was sitting, her mind not even attempting to listen to whatever the professor was saying. Her mind was still reeling from she had witnessed earlier, you and that stupid boy flirting near the water fountains, or at least that’s what it looked like.

“Class is dismissed,” the professor’s dull voice echoed throughout the classroom.

You quickly collected your things and stuffed it into your backpack, your mind focused on getting out of there as soon as possible, before you-know-who corners you and escaping into the safety of your room.

You were so, so close to sweet freedom when she-who-must-not-be-named swooped in front of you, grabbing you by the collar like a mama lion would carry her baby cub but this time, she was the lion and you were the poor gazelle with your neck in her mouth.

“Hey Ellie,” you nervously laugh and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mouth running dry as her piercing green eyes rake over you.

You had no clue why she hated you so much. You were a complete sweetheart to everyone, never even accidentally stepped on someone’s toe when making your way through the crowded seats of your lecture halls and yet, this girl, hated your guts.

“Yeah, hey,” her eyes narrowed at your outfit, she clearly had a distaste for the frills, lace, and pink, “Need a favour.”

You knew that a favour from Ellie wasn’t a favour at all, it was and order, “Okay, what is it?”

She scoffed, she couldn’t believe how easy this was, “Come over to my dorm, room 328, Saint Cal Hall, need help with classowork.”

She nodded at you and left the classroom. Ellie smiled as she made her way to her next class, how could you be so fucking sweet to her, your bully? She shook her head.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Ellie’s dorm was clean.. surprisingly. Maybe you stereotyped her a bit too hard.. you had assumed that all jocks were assholes who left their socks strewn all over and waited for the weekends for their moms or girlfriends to clean up their dorms.

Studying went well.. until..

“Why were you talking with that frat boy,” she crossed her arms and leaned into the chair of her desk.

You racked your brain for a frat boy… frat boy… “Oh! Liam? I was just giving him some advice on Professor Edwards class since I took it last semester,” you truthfully admit.

“That so?” she scoffed, not buying it.

“Mhm,” you hum out, your body tensing under her gaze.. you couldn’t deny it, Ellie was objectively attractive, hell, she was hot. The way her hair was messy but in an effortlessly cool way, her piercing gaze that never seemed to falter, the way she was so close, you could count the freckles on her face, the way—.

“So you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you? He was obviously eye-fucking you,” she scoffs and eyes you up and down, “You can’t even blame him when you’re wearing a skirt that short.”

Your cheeks flushed red and tears began to prick the corners of your eyes, you should be used to the bullying by now, right? But you weren’t, if anything you had gotten more and more sensitive.. and Ellie noticed that.

“I don’t need this,” you mutter and make your way to the door.

“Aw, you crying?” she laughed dryly and pushed herself off the chair, circling you like a vulture, “Did that hurt your feelings? God, grow up.”

You wiped your tears with your sleeve and sniffle, “I’m not crying.”

The way your lashes glistened with tears stirred something deep within Ellie, “God, you’re too sweet.”

You cocked your head in confusion…. ‘too sweet?’

“What do you mean by that?” you wipe another tear away.

“You really wanna know what I mean?” she took a step closer to your front, her pale hand wiping away your fat teardrops.

You weren’t sure how to answer but then you hesitantly nod.

Within one quick motion, Ellie looks the door and with her other hand, pulls you in by your neck, hungrily kissing you, a small groan escaping her pretty lips.

You were confused, this girl who has bullied you since Freshman year is now kissing you, causing your knees to buckle as you wrap your arms around her to hold yourself up.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” she growled out and pushed you up against her bed, her hands lifting you up onto it while she nipped at your neck, “Too fucking sweet for your own good,” she muttered against your neck.

Right now, all Ellie could think of was you… the way you always smiled at your fellow classmates, the way you didn’t notice the fluttering touches that the boys in the class would leave on you. In her own sadistic way, this was almost a way to teach you a lesson, to teach you that not everyone should be treated in such a sweet manner, that not anybody can be trusted.. if it meant protecting you, she was willing to play the big bad wolf.

She roughly pulled up your skirt and moved the thin fabric of your panties to the side, her fingers grazing against your folds, “You’re so fucking wet,” she laughs cruelly, “You really getting off on this?”

Your cheeks flared red, “N-No.”

“Liar,” she laughed and pushed two fingers in, earning a sharp gasp from you. Even in this case, she was as cruel as ever.

“E-Ellie,” you whimper and move your hips so she could reach deeper.

She turned her head to not-so-subtly sniff your strawberry scented hair, groaning at the sweet smell. Everything about you is so sweet, she angled her hand in a way that would make her two fingers move further into your sweet pussy, her fingers pushing up against that sweet spot deep within you, “What? Feelin’ good?”

You eagerly nod, you were already so close, you were clenching so hard around her, “I-I’m gonna—.”

She rolled her eyes, “Already? Don’t you fucking dare, you’ll cum when I tell you to.”

She was being so mean and both of you knew it but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t like it.

Ellie knew she had to teach you a lesson like, come on. You came all the way across campus to her dorm to tutor her? To tutor your fucking bully? Get real, you were too fucking naive for your own good and like that saint she is, Ellie decided to teach you a very much needed lesson.

She moved her fingers faster, rougher, causing your eyes to flutter shut. Your hands desperately balled the sheets up into your fist, desperately trying to find anything to keep you grounded. You were so close, you were going to—.

Just as you were about to be pushed over the edge, she pulled her fingers out, they were slick and wet, “You’re such a pathetic girl,” she laughs and licks her fingers clean, “but you taste so sweet.”

“Get on all fours,” she said, roughly turning you over and watching as you get up.

You heard faint rusting and a drawer opening, you glanced back to see Ellie with a strap on tied around her.

She climbed onto the mattress and pushes you down, holding your hands against the mattress so that your face was flat against the bed as she rammed the strap into you.

You let out a loud cry at the harsh thrusts, tears pricking your eyes as your eyes rolled back.

“Gotta stop being so fucking sweet,” Ellie groans, emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust, her hand roughly circling your aching clit while the other pushed your head deeper into the mattress.

All you could do was cry out ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘won’t do it again’ over and over.

She growled at your pathetic babbling, “You’re so fucking weak.”

You whimpered, you never really cared for how harsh she could be but… it was a completely different story if it was in bed.

“You like how mean I am, baby?” she laughed as she felt you clench around the strap.

You nod, too fucked out to care about what you just admitted.

“Yeah?” she whispered against your neck, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper.

“You like being fucked by your bully?” she laughed and went harder, bullying the strap deeper inside you.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, your vision turned white as you fell apart on the strap, your body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

As your brain came out of that fuzzy bliss, you heard Ellie laughing softly, “You’re way too sweet.”

[arkadijxpancakes]

Yes. The Weasleys had too many kids. An analysis. (Part 1 of 2)

Everyone who read Harry Potter read about the prejudices regarding the Weasleys: They all have red hair, are poor and have more kids than they can afford. Insert a sneering Malfoy here.

The books were adamant that that was not the case. The Weasleys are depicted as the best family in the books. (Just look at the others. The Dursleys were narrow-minded, bigoted and abusive. The Malfoys were bigoted terrorists. The Lovegoods were weird. Let’s not even start about Merope and Riddle.)

However, if you look closer, the prejudices have some truth to them: They had more kids than they could afford. However, money isn’t the issue here, not really.

Yes, the Weasleys are clearly depicted as members of the working class. They don’t have much money and fall back on second-hand stuff a lot of the time. Ron in particular is shown to be using hand-me-downs in book one.

However, they don’t live in abject poverty. The family owns their own home on their own land. They have a garden to grow their own vegetables and they have chickens. This means that food scarcity shouldn’t be a big issue for them, because they can produce a lot of it on their own. (Magic should make this even easier, because they can use it for the gardening stuff. And if we assume that you can duplicate food, this should keep everyone well-fed.)

The main issue when it comes to money isn’t that they don’t have anything. They have clearly enough money to stay comfortably over water. They just don’t have enough money to buy all the fancy shit the wizarding world uses as status symbols. (Like racing brooms and dress robes.)

Could things be better, money-wise? Sure. But one can have a loving, comfortable childhood, even with second-hand clothes and working class food. So no. It’s not about the money.

It’s about time. 

And it's also about how the parents divide that time (and the work that comes along with it.)

The Weasleys follow a family structure one would expect from a muggle family of their time (the second half of the 20th century): Arthur is the one who goes out to work and earns money, while his wife Molly is a stay-at-home-mother who takes care of their home and kids. It’s also just their nuclear family that lives in the burrow. There are no other relatives (no grandparents and no aunts or uncles, either) living there.

I find this a little bit weird, tbh. The nuclear family (parents and kids) living alone, without any other relatives and with the father as the sole breadwinner, is a pretty new development. The practice only really established itself after the Statute of Secrecy went into effect. It developed first in the upper classes (who used this to flaunt their wealth) and in urban centers (where there was no space to live together with your extended family.) Before this, living with one's extended family was very common, especially in rural areas, where it was beneficial to stick together. The Weasley’s don’t really have a reason to live as a nuclear family. There is no need for wizards to follow the Muggle trend, and things were different before the statute. Living with other, adult family members would also be beneficial, especially for Molly. And the books do suggest that the extended family is quite large, so “They don’t live with other relatives, because they don’t have any” doesn’t fit their situation either.

This is a common theme for Rowling, by the way. She tends to ignore the extended families of her characters, whenever it is possible. The numbers of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins that get mentioned in the book is incredibly low. (The only character who seems to have close connections to his extended family is Neville – and that’s because the other members of his nuclear family are completely absent because of health reasons.)

Anyway. When we look back at the Weasleys, this leaves Molly basically as a tradwife. (Minus the religious baggage.) But let's start at the beginning. 

(Note: I will focus on the books in this. I don’t consider the games canon and will not use them as a source.) Arthur and Molly were born around 1950. We know that he went to Hogwarts from 1961 to 1968. They were close enough in age to start a relationship while still at Hogwarts, and they married shortly after graduating. For this to work, she must have been in his year or maybe the year below or above.

Bill was born in 1970 and was followed by six siblings, the last who was born in 1981. So from the age of ca. 20 to the age of ca. 33 Molly was either pregnant or nursing at least one baby at any given time. (There might have been a short break in that pattern between Charlie and Percy, but it only got worse after that.)

As I said before, Molly and Arthur seem to have a very traditional division of labor between them: He works at the ministry and earns money, she takes care of their home and kids. This means that Molly has drawn the short end of the stick.

While Arthur is working one job 9-5, Molly has to work three jobs and at least one of them is 24/7. Let’s pick them apart:

Her first job is to take care of the home. Molly cleans the house and does the laundry. It is also very likely that she is not only responsible for cooking, but for food production in general. This means that she takes care of the garden and chickens. This would be pretty exhausting, if not for her magic. She can likely cut down on time and effort by using magic for most of those tasks.

On top of this, she is also producing at least some of the clothing her family wears. We don't see her sewing, but she knits a lot. She is using magic for that, too.

Her second job is to raise their kids. Molly is their primary caregiver and does most of the parenting. This is a difficult job to begin with, but there are seven of them. This is where her workload starts to stretch her thin. It can’t be easy to do the laundry, while Ginny needs to be fed, Bill and Charlie are arguing in the backyard, and the twins have just vanished. Magic is less helpful here, because a lot of the work requires her to interact with her kids. She can’t really flick her wand to speed that up.

On top of that - and this is where things get even worse - there doesn't seem to be any kind of elementary school in Wizarding Great Britain. At the very least, the books do not mention any form of primary education and Hogwarts seems to be Ron’s first school. But Hogwarts still requires its students to be able to read, write and do math. Having some education about the Wizarding World couldn’t hurt, either.

However, someone has to teach the kids. And this someone is probably Molly, because Arthur is at work, and they don’t have the money for a private tutor. They cant sent their kids to an elementary school, because there is none. (And they obviously did not send them to a muggle school.) 

So this is her third job. This is another job she can’t really speed up with magic, because she can’t hex the knowledge into her kids’ brains. (Or at least I hope she can’t, because everything else would be disturbing.)

This means Molly has to take care of their home, produce their food, take care of their kids and teach them elementary school-stuff. All while being pregnant and/or nursing for circa 13 years straight.

Her workload just isn’t doable for a single person. It might have started off okay, when she only had Bill and Charlie, and it probably got better once most kids had left the house to study at Hogwarts. But the years in between must have been hell. And she did not really have any help to do it.

Arthur was off to work most days and seems to spend quite a lot of time on his hobby. Additionally, he just doesn’t seem to be all that involved as a father and seems to take care mostly of the fun stuff. 

His parenting style is much more relaxed than Molly’s, too. He’s probably the parent the kids go to when they want to do something their mother would say no to. This, of course, makes parenting even harder for her, because she doesn’t just have to deal with the kids, but also with Arthur’s parenting decisions. There are no other adult family members around to help her, either. They also don’t have the money to hire help. (No wonder Molly dreamed of having her own slave house elf. It would have allowed her to drastically reduce her workload. It’s a really disgusting wish, but I understand where it comes from.)

This is where the family dynamics probably took their first severe hit: It’s very likely that Molly’s workload left her with more work than she was able to do consistently. Whether Arthur pulled his weight in that regard is questionable (and he was at work for most of the day anyway.) She also had no other adults to help her, so she probably offloaded her workload elsewhere: her kids.

Yes. I think it is very likely that the Weasleys parentified their kids, especially Bill, Charlie and Percy. We don’t see it with Bill and Charlie, probably because they had already left the house when Harry meets the family. Still, it’s a little weird that both of them went to live so far away from home. Yes, sure, exploring tombs in Egypt and taming dragons in Romania is fun and exciting in and off itself – but being so far away from home that mom can’t rope you into household chores and babysitting duty is probably a really nice bonus. It would also relax their familial relationships quite a bit, because moving away gives them control over when and how they want to engage. (And it’s probably easier to be the fun big brother to your younger siblings when you aren’t required to watch and control them every day.)

We do see it with Percy, however. He looks after and take responsibility for his younger siblings a lot, especially at Hogwarts. You can see it in the way he looks after Ginny and how he’s constantly at odds with Fred and George because they refuse to follow any rules.

Fuck, he still does this after the big row with his father. Yes, the letter he sends to Ron is pretty obnoxious, but he still wrote it. He did not need to. At that point he had cut all contact, after all. He clearly cared for his younger brother and wanted to look out for him, even if he did it in the most annoying way possible. It would be interesting to know whether he also wrote to Ginny or the twins or not.

Also, did I mention that the Weasleys have too many kids?

They have too many kids.

It’s a numbers game, really. The more kids you have, the more time you have to use for household chores (you need to clean more, wash more, cook more, etc.) You also have less time to spend time with each kid individually. This is especially true for quality time – so time that isn’t spent on chores or education. Time that is spent playing and talking with each other, just to enjoy each other's company.

Molly is already working three jobs. She doesn’t really have any opportunity to spend time with her kids equally. She’s too busy looking after the home and teaching the older ones, while watching the younger ones and making sure the twins don’t burn the house down. 

I just don’t see her spending quality time with her kids regularly, because of this. It’s just difficult to talk with Charlie about his favorite dragons or read something to Percy or to play with Ron, when there is always someone else who needs her more. Full diapers. Empty stomachs. Unyielding stains of unknown origin on Arthur's work robes. A sudden explosion on the second floor. And probably everything at the same time and all the time.

So yeah. Chances are that her attention and her affection can be pretty hard to come by at times. (To a certain degree, this also applies to Arthur, because he is away from home so much.)

Let’s look at the timeline.

It probably starts pretty harmless:

1970 - Bill is born, and he’s the only kid for two years. Yeah, it’s Molly’s first child, and she is a really young mother, but she is a stay-at-home-mum, and it’s just one kid. It’s mostly her and Bill who are at home, and her workload isn’t all that big, because she can use magic for most stuff. The war has started, but it probably hasn’t kicked into overdrive just yet, so this shouldn’t affect her too much either.

1972 – Charlie is born. Molly’s workload is expanding, but things should still be pretty manageable. Also, they don’t have another kid for almost four years. This allows Molly to adjust to caring for two kids. She can also relax from both pregnancies and births. If it wasn’t for the war, this might be her favorite years as a mother.

When Arthur is involved in parenting Bill and Charlie, it’s probably on the weekends. I can imagine him taking them out to do fun stuff, so their mother can get some rest. It’s probably a great time for him, because he can bond with his boys. I can’t see him do much more than that, though. Molly has a handle on things, and interfering could be seen as overstepping.

1976 – Percy is born. This is probably the moment, where the attention-distribution in the family gets a little bit wonky. Molly has three kids now, and it’s the middle of the war. Bill is almost six, which means that she has to start teaching him, while simultaneously nursing Percy and keeping Charlie entertained/away from trouble. This is probably still manageable. She can wait a little longer with teaching Bill, so she can teach him and Charlie together. She can also hand him (and maybe Charlie) over to Arthur, so he can teach him/them on weekends.

Additionally, Arthur is probably still taking Bill and Charlie out for some bonding-fun-time. However, the war is in full swing now, so leaving the house gets increasingly dangerous. Their trips will get shorter and stay closer to home. They will happen less frequently, too. He will also end up working more because of the war, doing overtime much more frequently. When he is home, he is going to be exhausted, as a result.

1978 – Fred and George are born. The attention-distribution in the family falls off a cliff.

This is when Molly's workload starts to become overwhelming. Charlie will be 6 at the end of the year, Bill will be 8. She has to start teaching them, if she hasn’t already. Otherwise, Bill will not be ready when he starts Hogwarts.

And on top of everything, Molly has to take care of the twins. She has to do everything that needs to be done for a newborn – times two.

So her workload explodes. Molly is raising five kids, now. She needs to educate Bill and Charlie, nurse Fred and George, and has to make sure Percy doesn’t fall to the wayside completely. She also has her household chores that aren’t related to her kids. The war is still raging on. Arthur is probably tied up at work most of the time, and when he is home, he’s exhausted. And Molly will be pregnant again in a year. (Really, why do they have so many kids during a war? One or two, I would understand, but this is getting irresponsible.)

This is probably the time when Bill has to take over at least some chores, not just to learn how to do them, but to take some pressure off of his mother. This might not be parentification yet, but it will get worse over time. I assume he has to look after his younger brothers a lot.

On top of all that, it is increasingly hard to shield the kids from the war. At least Bill and Charlie are old enough to understand that things are really, really wrong and scary. And there is not much Molly can do about it.

1980 - Ron is born. The twins are already old enough to open cupboards. Molly is not having a great time. She probably hands over Percy to Bill and Charlie (“Go, play with your little brother!”), so she can take care of baby Ron while keeping an eye on the twin shaped chaos that is growing by the day. She will be pregnant again in a couple of months.

Bill (who will be 10 at the end of the year) and Charlie (8) still require teaching. Percy (4) isn’t old enough just yet, but he will be, soon. (And, let’s face it: It’s Percy. Chances are that he wants to learn, even now.)

The war is still in full swing. Arthur is still overworked and underpaid. Everyone is tired and scared. This also affects the kids. There is probably a lot of pressure on Bill as the oldest brother to watch over his younger siblings, to make sure all of them stay safe. They don’t spend much time outside their home, because it’s just too dangerous to do so.

Around 1980/81 is also the time when Molly’s brothers Fabian and Gideon die. (Gideon can be seen in the photograph that was taken of the Order before James and Lily went into hiding, so he was still alive back then. But we know that he dies soon after the photograph was taken.) Molly never talks about her brothers in canon, but this must have been horrible for her.

1981 – Ginny is born. They are seven kids now. Fabian and Gideon will be dead by the end of the year (if they aren’t already.) Molly’s workload is at its peak, while her ability to pay equal amounts of attention to her kids is at an all-time low. She’s grieving, the rest of her family is in danger, and Arthur is stuck at the ministry. This means that she will likely lean on Bill’s support even more. As Charlie is 8 now (and will be 9 at the end of the year), Molly might consider him old enough to help, so he might see an increase in responsibility, too. At this point, we are in parentification-territory.

With each day, the twins grow more into the troublemakers we see in canon. This sucks away attention and affection from their siblings (simply because they need to be watched and disciplined).

I think the following years are very formative for the family dynamics between the kids. It’s probably less pronounced for Bill and Charlie (who are stuck with chores and babysitting-duty and will leave for Hogwarts soon-ish) and Ginny (who gets more attention because she is the youngest child and only girl). It’s worse for the others. Percy, Fred, George and Ron are basically in direct competition for their mother's attention. I think the dynamic develops as follows:

Fred and George are active and pretty extroverted. They explore a lot and start to play pranks on their family members. This is overall harmless, but Molly has to pay attention to them, to make sure that no one accidentally gets hurt. From this, the twins learn that they can get Molly’s attention by causing trouble, so they will lean into it even more.

This sucks away attention from Percy and Ron. It causes Percy to veer hard into the opposite direction: He tries to gain Molly’s attention by following all her rules and fulfilling her wishes. This earns him her affection and will turn him into her golden child in the long run. It will also put a strain on his relationship with the twins, because Molly compares them a lot, especially when angry. This will cause Percy to perform the “Good boy”-role even harder (because he doesn’t want to be treated like the twins), while they start to resent him on some level.

Ron on the other hand is still too young to affect the family dynamic on his own. He internalizes that his mother cares more about his siblings and that there is nothing he can do about it.

The only good news: At the end of the year, the war ends. This will bring a lot of relief. (It’s short term relief for now, things will need some time to go back to normal.)

However, the end of the war also means, that Percy gets a pet. Either late in 1981 or early in 1982 he (or another member of the family) finds a rat that is missing a finger on its front paw. Percy keeps him and calls him Scabbers.

We all know who Scabbers is, of course. I just want to highlight how fucked up this situation is. Percy is 5, when he adopts him. Because he was a little kid, he probably took him everywhere without a second thought – into the bathroom, into his bed, you know, everywhere. There is probably no part of Percy’s body Scabbers hasn’t seen. Percy probably told him everything, too, all his worries, all of his fears. It’s just creepy.

And keep in mind, Scabbers – Peter – is not just a random wizard. He is a Death Eater and mass murderer. We don’t know if he ever hurt Percy (there are fanfics that do explore that possibility). He probably didn’t, but the idea alone is nightmare fuel.

To get this back on track: This could have impacted the sibling-relationship, too. It depends on whether the other kids were allowed to keep pets.

With that, we are done with the war and with Molly’s time being pregnant. The family dynamic is already fucked up – and it will get worse, as the kids get older. However, this post is long enough, already. So we’ll take a break here. Next time, we will look at how the dynamics shift, once the kids start to go to Hogwarts. See ya!

[urfavlarry]

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

[goldencithaerias]

Unexpected Intervention

Bully!Miguel x Reader

tw: dirty talking, semi-public sex, fingering, p in v smut, enemies to lovers if you squint, mean miguel o’hara, soft miguel o’hara at the end

(author note: first off, this is my first miguel fic after a few weeks of being down bad for this man, second, this is PURE FILTHY SMUT. nothing hardcore and more focused on reader’s pov if anything tbh, but maybe it’s just me projecting. anyhow, enjoy.)

(smut under the cut)

It was supposed to be just a small break.

You were simply tired and wanted to take a breather from all of your classes. So, as any rational student would, you skipped fourth period to go up to the rooftop, hoping that some fresh air would help boost your mood.

Unfortunately for you, Miguel O’Hara, the bane of yours and pretty much everyone else’s existence, was also there, smoking weed on a Tuesday afternoon. He was the stereotypical mean jock that picks on others with a hot body to die for, the kind that makes people both want and fear. In other words, a hot bully.

And that’s how you find your skirt hiked up to your stomach, back pressed against his chiseled body as his two thick fingers pump in and out of your abused cunt. This has to be at least the 4th orgasm that he had pulled out of you, and just from his mere fingers alone. His lips were pressed against your ear, his other hand fondling your tits as he whispers the vilest of words that make you whimper.

“Needy slut, eh? So desperate for attention that you need to wear that tiny skirt everywhere you go, hm? Need the whole world to fuck your pussy out before you’re satisfied, isn’t that right?”

You could only respond in loud and desperate moans, body bouncing up and down on his fingers as your arm clings behind his neck, brain too fucked out to come up with anything actually cohesive. Your juices have covered his entire hand white by now, legs spread wide as the man you swore you despise with your entire being hitting that gummy spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back over and over again.

It took so many illegible pleas and mind-blowing orgasms for him to actually unzip his pants, ripping your skirt off and filling you up to the brim with his girthy cock after pressing you flat onto the dirty floor. Hell, you were pretty sure the door to the rooftop wasn’t locked, and that anyone could walk in any moment now, yet that didn’t stop him from fucking your senses out like a madman. His grip on your hips was so tight that you were sure there would be bruises afterward, but the thought only made the lewd noises that escaped your lips louder.

This is it, you decided; Miguel O’Hara has ruined your experience with any other man from now on, as you were sure no other can ever fill you up as good as he does. You made sure to memorize each and every vein of his cock, taking note of how thick and warm his dick felt around your walls as you took him in as the good girl you were; his words, not yours, and tucking it in the deep corner of your brain for safekeeping.

You both were there until half an hour after fourth period ended, panting and out of breath from the intense sex that left you completely brain fucked. Miguel takes in your form, inspecting how your pretty eyes glaze over with so much bliss and with drool rolling down the corner of your mouth. All because of him, the person who has been bothering you ever since the beginning of time, the one you had cursed out so many times that landed you in enough after-school detention to last at least half the school year. He chuckled at that, chest swelling with pride as he picked up your helpless form in his arms, pulling your panties up and covering your lower half with his jacket like the gentleman he was. You nuzzled your head into his chest, which earned you a huff from Miguel, who then leaned down to you while halfway through the door.

“Why don’t we finish this at my place, muñeca? Gotta make up for your ruined skirt, after all.”

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.

Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕

ENSNARED

This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3

TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.

You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels

To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.

He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.

You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.

You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.

On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.

You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)

He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.

In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.

You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead). 

What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay). 

Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.

So you guys agree to pull each other out together.

Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.

When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.

You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…

Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.

Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.

“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”

“I love all of you, always have, always will.”

Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).

He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.

He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.

Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.

After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.

You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.

He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. 

He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.

During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.

Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.

He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.

Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.

Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.

It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.

Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.

You, on the other hand, are shooketh.

Con? Fuzzled.

Bam? Boozled.

Flabber? Gasted.

Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.

Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.

You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.

Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.

He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.

“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”

“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)

“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*

To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.

He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do. 

He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.

He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.

He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.

He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.

He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.

He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.

Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.

In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.

In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.

Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.

That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.

And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.

Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.

Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.

Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.

Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.

He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.

Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.

“You look nice. This suits you.”

“You’ve eaten, I hope?”

“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”

Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine. 

She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?

Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it. 

Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.

She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.

You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.

Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received. 

Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.

Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?

Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.

When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.

You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.

She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.

It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.

She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.

You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.

“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”

“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣

“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”

[cheyisagirlkisser]

MY KINK IS KARMA

MODERN AU ELLIE ONESHOT (Ellie Williams x Fem! reader)

Content: NSFW themes, Ellie's a bit toxic tbh, vaginal fingering and tribbing (no strap-on in this, sorry..), mentions of alcohol and weed, college setting, I love cannon Ellie but this isn't gonna be that type of fic, body hair. Word count: 3.3K

Description: Based on My Kink is Karma by Chappell Roan. After Ellie breaks up with you in the most cruel way possible, time passes and leaves you in a better place. However, after a run-in with her during an awkward situation, you forget how well you had seemed to move on..

You were sitting on your bathroom counter, your hands holding a small eyeliner pencil. You studied yourself intensely, wondering if you should actually get all dressed up tonight. It didn't matter either way, since you knew you weren't trying to impress anyone. You hadn't cared too much about that after Ellie Williams had stormed her way into your life.

You had met her through Dina and you thought her rugged look was attractive; something about the way she always carried herself in a careless manner had you on the edge of your seat with her, and you did enjoy it in the beginning. But Ellie wasn't the best partner, you had come to learn. She would come home late at night drunk and mean and you could always tell things weren't gonna end well. But did you stay? Absolutely. You stayed for a total of two months, which was enough time for the two of you to rent out an apartment together after she insisted. She confidently told you she was gonna put a pretty little ring on your finger and that you just needed to trust in her. And so you did. But living with her caused you to see sides of her you hated to be involved with. And after one, final altercation, she snapped. She had yelled in your face and ushered you out of the door. She screamed as you stormed down the hall, telling you she hated you and that you were the worst. For about a week, you had to stay in Dina's dorm room where you cried to her, telling her just how much Ellie had ruined your life. But things hadn't remained like that and life went on..

You moved into your old dorm and though it was never the same feeling as when you had first moved in, the feeling of innocence and excitement, you still enjoyed putting the pieces of your messy life back together. You got a job at the local library and you began regularly attending parties with your friends. Dina told you that you were glowing again, and Ellie hadn't seemed to matter at all anymore. She barely showed up to any classes and you had heard humors that she would get into fights at the bar downtown for running her mouth about you. To tell the truth, part of you enjoyed that. You enjoyed knowing that as much as Ellie may have hurt you, she just had to have known that you were moving past her, your life full of bliss and healing while hers was spiraling. But you were still dumb and you actually believed that you had moved on from Ellie Williams..

You heard a knock on your door and you quickly jumped off of your counter, still in your towel from your previous shower. However, you knew who it was. You opened the door to see Dina standing in front of it, smiling at you and creating a low whistle sound like one you'd probably hear at a gas station from some pervy old man.

"No clothes on, huh? I'm not complaining one bit but you should get ready soon babes. We gotta go soon, remember?", she spoke teasingly. You and Dina were as close as friends could be and anyone else talking to you like this would've made you uncomfortable. But Dina had Jesse and she was smitten, and girls like Dina weren't as much your type anyway.

You responded in the same playful tone, "Sorry, Dina. I just had to give you a little show, ya know? Let me get these clothes on and let's hurry, I wanna get there before everyone buys up all the joints from that sketchy guy!!" Dina laughed at your comment and she entered, waiting patiently on your couch. You quickly got ready, slipping on a short, black skirt along with a mesh tank top that only really had some solid fabric around your breasts. You wore a grey leather jacket on top of this and a pair of heeled boots. You looked sexy as fuck and you knew you could get laid tonight, finally get some action after Ellie..But did you want to? You'd just have to wait and find out where the night takes you.

You and Dina had finally arrived and you stepped into the apartment building looking for room number 20. That was the location the two of you were given, afterall. The building was older and kind of run down, and the faint scent of alcohol and weed spread throughout. But that probably signified that you were at the right place.

Dina grabbed your shoulder and turned to you before you before speaking sweetly, "I know you've had a rough couple months, babes. Please promise me tonight that you will at least TRY to get some action?"

You smiled at Dina, a reassurance that you were gonna at least try. "Yeah, yeah, I'll try.. why do you think I got all dressed up tonight?", you replied, your voice relaxed and quiet. And unbeknownst to you, you were gonna get some action that night. But who you took you home that night was someone who you would never had guessed.

As you finally entered the party, you quickly spotted Jesse. You and Dina approached him and Dina gave him a quick kiss before greeting him. You turned away and gagged in mock disgust, pretending to be offended by their PDA. You were a little jelly, but you thought they were cute together.

The party made time go on fast even though you hadn't even stolen a single shot from the kitchen. You figured you'd wanna be sober for the girl who you'd be hooking up with tonight, if you did find her. You danced with Dina who was quite tipsy for about 30 minutes before you pulled away, breathless and in the mood for some adventure.

Your voice was loud over the multiple others that crowded the cheap apartment. "Hey, Dina, I'm gonna go piss."

She laughed heartily and gave you a little wave, "Aw babes, I hope you come back. If not I'm calling you tomorrow and asking how good the sex was", she teased.

You roll your eyes at her suggestion and squeeze your way through the crowd to the bathroom. You knock on the door first. No answer. You then try to open it but it won't budge. You groan, really needing to piss now. Some guy with a couple piercings and a large tattoo on his arm sees you and confidently walks toward you.

"Hey princess, that bathroom's off limits." His voice was low and gross.

"Where am I supposed to piss then?!" You hear yourself slip an attitude into your tone but he kind of deserved it because of what he said next.

"I don't know, but that's not my problem, is it, babe?.." The way his words drip with shameless flirtation make you want to slap away the smug look on his face, but you decide to be responsible and resist the temptation. He sees you turn away and grabs your hand. "Listen, there's someone who lives at room 21. She's a bitch but she likes pretty girls. Just be nice to her and maybe she'll let you use hers."

You quickly slip out of his touch and find yourself out of that smelly apartment. You walk down the hall, the lights flickering above you. You see a room, room 21 to be exact. You brace yourself and knock softly on the door, standing outside and impatiently waiting for this girl to open the door. Part of you was nervous from that guy's words. She was into pretty girls? Maybe you could land some action tonight. But when she opens the door, you see Ellie staring back.

She looks at you with the most disgusted expression, a hint of irritation in her face. But also something else that you can't quite ignore, like a hint of sadness.

"Ellie?! What the fuck are you doing in this shitty apartment? You just kicked me out of ours so you could move here?" You yelled loudly at her. Part of you, though, deep down inside of your heart, wanted her to just drag you back into her shitty apartment and never let you go. You hadn't even realized how much you missed her gorgeous face and her messy auburn hair until now, but your hatred for her was still apparent.

"Well..I guess things change. I lost my job," she mutters out, her voice low and uninterested in this conversation. However, there was a twine of embarrassment, as if she hated admitting to you of all people that she had lost her job. "What the fuck are YOU doing here?"

You swallow back any feelings you were holding onto and try your best to sound just as laid back as her. "I had to use the bathroom and someone directed me here. Said you were a bitch, which checks out."

Her eyes meet yours and you could tell that hit a nerve. There was something different in her expression, something that you had never imagined to witness in Ellie before. She was vulnerable. "Why should I let you, huh? And you're no better." she snorted, her voice still low and irritated.

You realized that if you did wanna relieve yourself, you'd have to at least try to be civil. "Look, I don't wanna argue. I just want to piss. Can I please use your bathroom?"

You saw her sigh, and you could tell she was gonna give up. "Fine. Hurry up. I don't really like that you're knocking on my door and insulting me, but I guess you can come in." You noticed a slight softness to the words that made you wanna crumble. It made you want to take her back as if you were the one who dumped her, because in the moment, that's what it felt like. You never imagined when she kicked you out that she'd set herself up in a way that left you better off. She practically ruined your credit months ago, though! You couldn't exactly pretend like she didn't deserve this.

Instead of dropping to your knees and confessing how much you've dreamt of her since the breakup, you walk past her and enter her apartment. She guides you to her bedroom, into her bathroom, and walks back out. You wanna ask her to stay, to take you back and kiss you. Part of her imagines that too, to have you again. But Ellie, she was too far gone for that.

You, from Ellie's perspective, were a fake bitch. At least that's what she told herself. When she kicked you out, she felt like shit. She wanted to beg you to come back and to hold you tight, to at least attempt to fix her mistakes. But she indulged in her ways. She believed that was gonna kill her in some way. However, Ellie Williams was far too stubborn to admit that, or to even give much of her time to thinking about that. Instead, she lost it when she found out you were doing better. Dina had informed her that you had been doing amazing and moved back into the college setting, while she was slipping back, smoking weed on the regular and passing out, dreams of you and her in bed together always preventing her from waking back up. She was pissed off, hating herself, hating you for being so hard to forget, hating all her emotions for running at insane speeds in her head. What she hated about herself most of all was that she had let you go.

You finally relieved yourself and washed your hands. Part of you wanted to stall, to take your time and try to experience Ellie's presence again. But you still hurried, unable to face Ellie's griping if you had taken your sweet time. When you opened the door, Ellie was sitting back on the bed with a neutral expression. It pained you to see her so differently, so stone cold. Many people in her life witnessed her like that, but she was soft for you. She used to be, at least. She'd hold you close to her and kiss you at all hours of the night. She'd always make sure you were happy, all before her recklessness ruined your relationship. But now, seeing her on the bed, memories flooded back to you.

She was gorgeous, but a mess. You noticed now that she was in black jeans and a dirty wife beater. Her hair was messy and her appearance overall was disheveled. But her face was another story. Her arms and hands, and her perfect skin. Even at her sleep deprived, lowest look, you found her strangely angelic looking. Her warm, freckled skin had always filled your senses in ways not imaginable to anyone else, and in that moment, you swore she was probably the one for you. You wondered if that was just some passing thought that would fade with time, however, you were quickly snapped out of your head with her confession.

"You know, when you left, it was easy for me to pretend you didn't exist." Her voice was low and pained, but clear. You tried to bite back at the agonizing feeling of want inside you, telling you to step closer to her.

"But when Dina told me how happy you were, how you dressed up all pretty tonight to go get fucked by some other girl, it pissed me off. It pissed me off, also, to hear about your new job. How well you were doing without me.." As she spoke, her fingers wiggled, telling you to even dare to step toward. You obeyed, your body heating up as you stood in front of the beautiful woman.

"You kicked me out. You pushed me away and I bet you fucked other girls after it too!" you attempt to defend yourself from the obviously in-the-wrong auburnette.

She quickly catches your hands and growls. "Oh really, is that why you're acting all high and mighty? You think I've been fucking random girls? I haven't touched a single girl after you and you know it. God, this is why I kicked you out. You're always bitching and moaning." Part of you wanted to turn away and cry, to forget you came here in the first place. You could already feel tears welling up in your eyes at her harsh words, but it made you feel butterflies hearing that she was just as heated about the breakup as you.

"Is that really it, Ellie? Are you pissed about me doing better in life? That I'm happy without you?" Your voice is strained and quiet and you can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes. A moment of thick silence before her lips met yours.

Ellie closed the distance with a kiss that you didn't know existed. It was soft, yet so rough in all the right ways. her plump, slightly chapped lips moved against yours hungrily, pouring out all of her emotions onto your lips. You swallowed every bit of her need into your own mouth, desperate to show her how much you missed her too. It's only a few minutes of desperate kisses before her hands snake inside your shirt to massage your tits, her mouth leaving yours to leave wet kisses all over your neck. You can't help but moan at the feeling of Ellie's touch; you missed more than anything. You shimmy off your leather jacket and Ellie pulls your tank top over your head. Her eyes immediately take in your braless state, and you feel your face redden.

"No bra, babe? Were you planning on getting fucked tonight?" She tries to sound demeaning, but the girl is too far gone thinking about how good your pussy would feel against hers to put any real degradation into her tone.

Your response to that was only silence, and Ellie's impatience led to your tits in her mouth. When she'd lavish her attention to one nipple, her thumb would graze over the other. It was a cycle that lasted until you were aching for her.

"El, I've missed you so much..please fuck me again." You felt a hint of shame at the way you so quickly begged for her, especially after all she had done. However, that shame soon vanished out of thin air as she laid you down onto her bed and began to slip off your skirt, her thumb finding your clit to rub softly over it through your panties. You let out a soft moan and Ellie lost all patience. She looked up at you to make sure you wanted this and when you nodded, she hooked her fingers into your panties and pulled them down your thighs, throwing them carelessly across the room. She stared down at your bare cunt in awe, fingers immediately grazing over your wet folds with care.

"You're so fuckin' wet, baby," she teases and without warning slips two fingers into your sopping cunt. You let out a shamelessly loud whine, forgetting how thin her new apartment walls must've been. But god, you could never forget the feeling of Ellie's fingers buried deep inside you. The way they always stroked your g-spot like your pussy was her religion, her tongue slipping into your open mouth at the same time. She fucked open your tight hole until you were in absolute bliss. You missed the way she fucked you so passionately, and Ellie missed how your walls fluttered around her digits as you got close. However, right before you could cum, Ellie pulled her fingers out and licked up your arousal on them. You groaned and Ellie just laughed at your frustration.

"Nuh uh baby, I wanna make you cum against my pussy..." You felt your need come back only more at the thought of her cunt fucking yours and Ellie began to undress.

Fuck, you missed her body. Ellie was skinny with her ribs visible and her hip bones jutting out; to anyone else, she wasn't the conventionally attractive. However, to you, she was perfection. The way freckles splattered across her broad shoulder should've been illegal because you couldn't resist the urge to plant kisses all over them as she moved to grind her arguably wetter cunt onto yours.

Ellie's bedroom was soon filled with the sound of breathless moans and sharp gasps at the feeling of being connected again. You had felt her like this countless times before, yet nothing could prepare you for what it'd feel like to have her clit bumping so deliciously against yours after so long, her bush tickling your skin as her hips rolled against yours. You couldn't help but buck your hips against hers, feeling so fucked out before you two had truly even been aquatinted again. It wasn't long before both of you had erupted into a series of pleas.

“Please, please, please… I’m wanna cum for you, Els..”

“Fuck, you feel so wet, babe… you’re doing so good, gonna make me cum all over your pretty pussy.”

“Ellie!!!”

Ellie was sliding her cunt against you ruthlessly, now chasing her own pleasure, obsessed with the way your voice went raspy with pleasure as you moaned her name. It wasn’t long before she came, covering both of your cunts with her essence and causing you to see stars as you hit your climax as well. You continued to ride out the orgasm with your hips frantically grinding against Ellie’s before the overstimulation began and your movements finally ceased.

Then, you two were left with the feeling of being back in each other’s arms after so long. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, if things would last or end in chaos like last time. But one thing you did know was that you felt so warm with Ellie’s soft skin pressing against yours, and all worries were left for tomorrow as you drifted off to sleep in her strong arms.

[the-roo-too]

not my fault -> plastic! oh haewon

-the trio owns the school, but you own the queen bee’s heart

warnings: loosely referencing mean girls; basically making out in the closet lol; more of a short drabble than an oneshot tbh

genre: secret relationship; fluffish

notes: i might be in love with reneé rapp

⌦ .｡.:*♡

as your lunch tray hit the table with a soft thud, you became aware of how quiet your spot in the cafeteria was compared to the other tables.

while you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a loner, you wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone without a reason. it just felt like none of the cliques were for you.

taking a small bite out of your food, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head. even from across the cafeteria, the sensation was unmistakable.

the table in the middle of the room was occupied by the most influential trio in the whole school—the plastics. not to be mistaken with an environmental group, the plastics were a very closed off clique, like a teen royalty.

there was bae jinsol, an actually nice girl. she just wasn’t on the brightest side. rumour has it she tried to spell orange with a ‘d’ once.

then there was seol yoona, more commonly known as sullyoon. she knew everything about everyone and had connections basically everywhere.

at last, there was an apex predator. the queen bee of the school. the devil in human form.

oh haewon. the girl who’s eyes were currently burning holes in the back of your head.

one secret not even sullyoon knew about was the one that you shared with haewon.

despite all the rumours of her hooking up with this or that jock, she was very much not interested in men. you were the only one she had her eye on.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

haewon let her eyes linger on you for a little longer before she turned her attention to her friends with a bored sigh. sullyoon was yet again talking about some boy she had in her gym class. no one worthy her attention.

“what’s his name again?” she asked in a dismissive tone.

when sullyoon looked at her, slight hurt flashed in her eyes. the queen be rarely ever listened to them.

“jake.” she said before smiling stiffly. “the one i’ve been talking about for a week.”

“yeah, i remember now.” a bored sigh escaped haewon’s lips before she turned her attention to the third girl in their clique. “say, jinsol, wasn’t he invited to your party this friday?”

“who, jake?” bae glanced briefly at yoona as she nodded. “i think so.”

“great. i’ll help you talk to him then.” sullyoon looked at her in shock before a small smile broke out on her face.

“thank you, haewon.”

“it’s whatever. you guys wanna skip the rest today?” she got approving nods from her friends, making her grin softly. “i’ll meet you two by my car. i have to go see minjae before we leave.”

sullyoon smiled at her, as did bae. they both thought she was dating one of the jocks—she did let him be seen with her sometimes. he thought she was just playing hard to get, while in reality she just kept him around for appearances.

haewon typed a quick text to the contact ‘my baby 🩷’ before she stood up from the plastics table and left the cafeteria.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

“i missed you…” she whispered, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, keeping your body close to the wall. “you looked so pretty today, my baby.“

“i missed you too, haewon…” you mumbled back against her lips, gently kissing her. those intimate moments in the janitor’s closet weren’t ideal, but it was all you could get in school without being caught.

“i told jinsol and yoona i was seeing that jock again… does that make you jealous, pretty girl?” the grin she sent you made you feel weak in her hold. she knew damn well what she was doing, and boy did she enjoy it.

“you know it does… i hate that we have to hide.”

“awh.” her soft pout didn’t ease your nerves as much as she hoped it would. “i’m sorry, babe. you know i can’t have people knowing i’m gay. do you know how much it would cost me?”

“yeah.” you gave her a weak glare before kissing her pink lips yet again. “you care about your reputation more than you care for me.”

“i wouldn’t be sneaking into this dirty closet with you during lunch time if i didn’t care, would i? you knew what you were getting into when i told you this had to be a secret.”

of course she was right. when was oh haewon ever wrong though?

“it’s not my fault you fell for me, silly girl.”

“i hate that you’re right.”

she grinned at you, her free hand sneaking to your waist. “course you do.”

⌦ .｡.:*♡

[spiderhanzzz]

"I'M FUCKING SPIDERMAN, BABY" — han jisung.

who would've guessed that the guy you've been texting on tinder is spiderman?

word count: 2.7k

pairings: spiderman!han x journalist intern!reader

genres: humor, fluff, slight angst, comfort, kind of fake dating???

warnings: swearing, drinking, han is referred to as peter, reader and han are both uni students, mentions of vomit and violence, mild injuries, lowkey blackmailing if u squint, no use of y/n & gender neutral reader, han calls reader "pretty" once, usage of "baby" and "sweetie" too

playlist: les childish gambino, dare gorillaz, novacane frank ocean, i bet you look good on the dancefloor arctic monkeys, making the bed olivia rodrigo

a/n: my first fic raaahh!!! >:3 so so excited for u 2 read all these crazy ideas swirling inside my head

“...whoever provides the information on Spider-Man’s real identity will receive a cash prize of $1,000 US dollars…”

Your gaze bores to the glow of your old crappy TV. You haven’t had the time nor funds to purchase a new one, given that your only employment at the moment is a journalistic internship. It’s a good agency, the same one reporting on screen right now, and you acknowledge how hard you had worked to get the position. Nevertheless, you wish you prioritized financial gain over prestige, because now you’re stuck in your run-down apartment in New York, investigating the biggest issues for no money at all.

So you guess it’s not that big of a deal that you have no leads on who the hell Spider-Man is. If any higher-ups scold you, you could just hit them with those snarky remarks you’ve kept in the back of your mind all this time. How do you expect incentive from me if you’re not even paying me? I’m writing all your scripts because everyone else is a damn deadbeat! Maybe then they’ll start appreciating you.

You released a heavy sigh. All this nonsense is giving you a permanent headache, and it doesn’t help that you spend most of your free time scrolling mindlessly on your phone, which lights up with a new text notification the moment you start thinking about it. Perhaps you’ve spent so much time on your phone it’s becoming a part of your brain?

Peter Han: hahah tbh im pretty busy this week, but i’ll let u know for sure :)

A light shade of embarrassment tints your face when you catch yourself smiling at the text message. Usually Peter— the cute guy you’ve been texting on Tinder— never uses any emoticons. In fact, he’s been acting pretty uninterested and dry with you, which wouldn’t bother you as much if it weren’t for the fact that you desperately need a date to your friend’s birthday party next week.

Despite your humiliatingly destitute lifestyle, you pride yourself for your unmatched abilities to blend into any crowd. So like any other New Yorker, you decided to surround yourself with upper class Manhattan socialites. They like you; they don’t need to know about your financial status.

But with great power comes great responsibility, and with great social life comes great expectations. Last week it was a certain Kate Spade wallet with the intentions to match with the whole group of girls, and the week before it was table manners at a European restaurant (how in the hell were you supposed to know which fork to use for a crème brûlée?) This week, though, they gave you the most impossible task of all: get a date.

And you would. Truly, you would. It’s not like you’re particularly unattractive or unlikeable or anything like that. It’s just that you haven’t dipped your toes into the dating pool since university started, and you’re too far gone now. Your peers are fluent in these unspoken rules of dating and you don’t even really know what a situationship is.

Thus why you’re acting a little bit too desperate with Peter.

As you draft a response to him— is it better to use two or three y’s in hey?— your train of thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud on your balcony, followed by a shadow of vibrant colours. Your couch is situated safely so you can see right out the window, but angled in a way that someone outside wouldn’t be able to see you inside. You found this hack on social media on a particularly paranoid rush of nerves and thanked whoever that person was every single night.

Hesitating for a minute, you consider your options: a) attempt to fight off whoever is in your building, b) run out and alert security, or b) pretend like you didn’t hear anything and pray you don’t see your own face on TV tomorrow instead of Spider-Man’s.

If you were acting rational you would have chosen the last option. After all, it’s New York— if there’s anything prevalent here, it’s crime. But you are just so fucking bored. 

So you grab a baseball bat and swing open the window. 

“Get the hell off my balcony, dude!”

To your surprise, you stand face to face with a pair of dangling Converse All-Stars (really dirty ones, too). In your spur of confusion you come to the conclusion that whoever is sitting above your flat has the ugliest red socks you’ve ever seen in your life.

“What the fuck, man?” The person exclaims. “You bruised my knee!”

“That sounds about right for messing with my place, no?” You say, stepping out onto the balcony to get a good look at the stranger.

Just when you think you couldn’t get more disoriented, you realize the man you’re looking up to is not a stranger at all. It’s none other than Peter Han, in a full on Spider-Man suit.

“Peter…?”

The stranger, AKA Peter, breathes out a nervous laugh, raking his hand through his messy hair. Cute, you think.

“I think you mistook me for someone else. I’m not Peter.”

“Okay…” You say dubiously. “Why are you wearing a Spider-Man suit then?”

“I’m a… uh… cosplayer?”

When his eyes meet yours, the truth sings: he’s been caught. Peter Han is Spider-Man.

He’s terrified, you can tell. You don’t blame him— you would be too in his position. But it’s not just the fact that you know now; it’s also the mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes. Just what the hell are you thinking about that could be so amusing right now?

“W-what’s that look for?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. Maniacal laughter bursts out of you like you’ve been possessed by the spirit of a circus clown, and you have to hold on to the balcony railing to stop yourself from falling over. “Oh, Peter, you naive little fool.”

Peter’s brows furrow in confusion. You mentally curse yourself for admiring how handsome he looks when he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m on the case to find out Spider-Man’s identity. Well, your identity, I guess.”

“You did not tell me that.”

“Yes, I did.” You cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a judgemental look. “You’d know that if you paid any attention to what I have to say.”

“Look, listen…” Peter braces his lean arms on the side of the window to lower himself on your balcony. Standing face to face, you note that he’s not as tall as you thought. “I know I haven’t been the warmest person to you, but I would literally get on my knees and beg for you to please not tell anyone about this.”

You hum in amusement, taking a step closer to him and raising your chin with undoubted sanguine. Like this, you’re almost the same height as him. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather have you doing something else for me.”

Peter chuckles in disbelief, eyes wandering to the sky as if to ask God what have I done to deserve this absolute nonsense? His palms rest upon your shoulders when he looks you dead in the eye and says, “You are not blackmailing me, sweetie.”

“That’s a lot of confidence for someone who has very blackmail-able secrets.”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Whatever.” You peel away his hands from your shoulders, straightening your posture and pulling your shoulders back. Peter faces you with a puzzled gaze as you offer him your hand, clearing your throat and stating, “Peter Han, I would like to make a deal with you.”

He doesn’t move. “And that is…?”

“Date me.” Seeing his face contort into an even deeper state of befuddlement, you follow up with elaboration. “One date to a party next week, and just a few meet-ups and texts to prove that our relationship is going strong. In return, I’ll pretend this whole exchange never happened.”

You’re both silent for what feels like hours, eyes fighting a silent mental battle, until Peter’s rough palms finally envelop your own. You’re aware of how crazy and delusional you sound, but you swear he pulls you in just a little bit closer.

“Deal.”

It’s your third year in the city, and you’re still not fully familiarized with the parties. Contrary to your expectations of drunk sweaty bodies dancing up on each other, your friends’ definition of parties consists of low warm lighting embracing their glittered luxury brand dresses as they swirl their fancy little martinis and cosmopolitans. You appreciate it, really, since you don’t have to use up your voice every other night just to shout over the deafening electronic music. However it’s much harder to appreciate the pressure it puts on you to behave a certain way— dance like nobody’s watching, but be aware that they are.

As you slowly walk to approach your friends (rule #32: no running in public spaces, you’ll look like an idiot) you feel a large hand brush softly against your waist. You turn to face your date for the night, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you take in his appearance. The only suit he’s wearing now is an all-black tuxedo with no tie, the first three buttons of his shirt opened. His black hair is brushed down smoothly, pieces of it falling just right to frame his glowing face.

“You clean up well,” you remark, circling your arm in his as you guide him towards the bar where your friends are sitting.

“I could say the same to you, pretty.” With the sleek black shoes he’s wearing, he’s a few inches taller. Slightly looking down on you, he gives you a subtle wink.

God, he’s such a heartthrob.

Your friends round up to give you hugs and kisses to welcome your presence, ever so politely. One of them acknowledges Peter’s companionship. “You must be the date.”

“That I am.” Peter returns the approach, showing off his adorably heart-shaped smile. “Peter Han, pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night runs as it does in your dreams the night before. By the time you had arrived, your friends were already buzzed enough to pay no mind to the way the leather is peeling off your only pair of formal shoes nor to the typo on your fake branded bag. Just the way it’s supposed to be.

Peter doesn’t leave your side the entire night, only lifting his arm around your waist to grab more drinks for the both of you. Occasionally you catch him absentmindedly rubbing your back, and occasionally you catch yourself wondering how someone who spends so much of his life fighting can be this gentle.

During a small bathroom break, one of your friends pulls you aside and whispers, “He looks at you like you hung the stars, you know.”

If you weren’t so swept up in the feeling of finally belonging under the subtle incandescence of a high-end bar in Manhattan, you would have noticed the way Peter’s eyes darken when he read a notification off his phone, or the way his lips press into a tight line when he gazes at you, laughing your heart away amongst your friends.

So you’re nothing short of confounded when he wraps his arms around your waist and leans down to mumble, “Baby, I have to go, there’s a work emergency. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

Your friends bid him farewell and you press a chaste kiss to his cheek, immediately turning away when you feel his body tense. When he walks out the door, you keep your eyes focused on how his soft hair loses its shimmer as he walks out into the night.

And you try to enjoy the warm liquid pouring down your throat for the fifth time tonight, savoring the way you can almost taste a bit of yourself pull away from reality each time, knowing at least one of the people around you will walk away tonight asking, “don’t you think that Peter is a bit cold?”

You sit on the edge of your balcony, something you never do unless you’re going through an existential crisis or drunk off your ass. Tonight it’s both. As usual, the distant sirens and exclamations of curses wrap a tight band around your head. You’re dizzy; either from the alcohol or situation or both.

The ocean of fluorescent lights from the streets of Queens drift your mind to recall just how you ended up here. Three years ago, you were a fresh high school graduate with a million opportunities in front of you. Now you’re broke and rely too much on the validation of your non-broke friends to fulfill the void inside you. The thought of eventually having nobody but yourself after you graduate makes you wanna vomit on a passerby’s head.

“Hey, baby.” A particularly resonant voice startles you out of your thoughts. Peter is swinging from your balcony railing, a pair of gray sweatpants and zip-up jacket slung over his Spider-Man suit. “Sorry for ditching early. I got pizza and flowers to make it up to you, though.”

He swings himself to sit down next to you, placing the box of pizza and bouquet in front of your crossed legs. When he pulls his mask over his head to remove it, your eyes glance over his cuts and bruises. They definitely weren’t there earlier.

“What happened?” You unconsciously bring a hand up to his face, brushing your knuckles tenderly over the sensitive areas. It’s only when he winces that you drop your hand back down to your lap.

“Some guy tried to rob a bank.” Peter shrugged, refusing to meet your gaze. “Turns out he brought a bunch of other guys to back him up.”

“Did you win, at least?”

Though his face is turned down, you can see Peter’s eyes crinkle into a smile underneath his tousled hair. “Yeah, ‘course I did. Who do you think I am, a loser? I’m fucking Spider-Man, baby.”

Ten minutes later you’re seated face to face, still on your balcony, with you dabbing a cotton pad onto his injuries. No words were exchanged; you just went in and out to grab your emergency medical kit and grabbed him by the chin. The pizza box is left unattended, but neither of you care much about the hunger puncturing your insides.

“Why do you look so down?” Peter inquires as you place a Hello Kitty bandaid on his cheekbone, giggling breathlessly as you do so.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” He brings his own hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair on your forehead. “I mean, you’re smiling now, but your eyes have this sadness to them. So, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

What the actual fuck? It literally takes you every nerve in your body to fight the urge to propose to this man right then and there.

“Hey, come on,” he urges, delicately pulling your face an inch closer to his. His thumbs run down your flushed cheeks, and it takes you a while to notice he’s brushing away your tears. “I said talk to me.”

“Well, you’ve probably already noticed that I’m different from my friends.” You wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I guess I thought I could pull off the whole socialite act, but I’m starting to feel so…”

When you can’t find the words, Peter finds them for you. “Lost?”

He presses his forehead to yours as you nod softly. “This might not be the best time, but I think you’re a star.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you shine the brightest amongst everyone else’s shadow. And your friends probably see you that way too. Also that I really, really want to take you out on a real date.”

“You were right, it’s terrible timing.” You fake pout, pretending as if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his words.

“Sorry, sorry!” Peter laughs, setting distance between the two of you once again. There is no inclination to pull him back, though; the space devoid of someone else finally feels comfortable.

“My answer is yes, by the way, you can take me out on a real date. Unfortunately no blackmail this time, though, I think I'm gonna quit that dumb internship.”

Both of you share a fit of affectionate laughter. The temperate scent of food merges with that of the flowers and caresses your senses as Peter opens the box of pizza. “If they ever make fun of you for not being rich, we can always stage one of them as Spider-Man. We'll even get $1,000 from it, then you'll actually be rich."

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Spidey.”

[neovillains]

FINDING EQUILIBRIUM · GOJO SATORU

( EPISODE 4 : PURRFECT TIMING ) things have seemed to be going smoothly. gojo manages to reconcile with his friends, even introducing you to them. however, just as things seem to get better, things turn downhill once again. | watch time: 3.2k words.

── chat noir!gojo satoru & student!reader, angst & fluff, friendship reconciliation, confessions & heart ache, featuring geto suguru & shoko ieiri, etc.

note. y'all not ready for the end of season one tbh.

Just as told, Professor Mei Mei had assigned the class a project. It seemed to be easy enough— create a presentation revolving around the different cultural practices that might interfere with different businesses around the world. The professor uploaded the class’s partners online through a QR code, but Gojo was already on his way towards you when the professor instructed all the students to meet with each other before the class ended. Your typical class partner stood up, groaning that she had to leave you while Gojo took her spot. Sliding into the chair, he has a happy smile on his face when he lets out a dragged out groan. “Oh, how I’m happy that you’re my partner.”

“Why?” you chuckle. “So you can throw me all the work?”

Gojo scoffs, pulling out his laptop from his bag and plopping it down with a metallic thud. “Why do you keep making up these lies? I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

For the rest of the twenty minutes in class, you had set up the powerpoint while Gojo researched journal articles to use for the assignment. Simultaneously, the two of you chatted about everything but the project, finding humor in anything and everything as by the end of the class period. By the time the two of you were walking out of class when she dismissed everyone, Professor Mei Mei had her eyes on the both of you. “I hope the two of you actually got some work done with all that talking.”

And in unison, you and Gojo both responded, “We did!”

The two of you both agreed on times that you could meet up and do the assignment. On a handful of days, it was either in your apartment or his. But on various occasions, the two of you decided to meet in the library or at a cafe on campus. There were a handful of times where Gojo had texted you that he was going to be late, but he always assured you that he would be there and that you would not have to do his part. He upheld himself on that promise, always rushing in late and plopping his stuff down. He’d be a panting thing, always looking like a mess, and thus leading you to never question his whereabouts. 

Plus, you were impressed by his work and ideas, not having to reformat and reword things like you would typically need to when you worked on partnered assignments. Gojo constantly reassured that you were in good hands for this assignment and that he wouldn’t let you down, and he held true to that word. 

Today, the two of you were doing the finishing touches on the assignment. You were fixing things up style-wise, centering the titles and assigning designated fonts for everything. You made sure that everything was appeasing to the eye, while he worried about correct citations and fixed up any misspellings and grammar. The two of you were perched at a table in the library, iced coffees sitting on each other’s rights. You reach for your cup, taking a sip of your vanilla iced coffee and typing with your next hand. Gojo was hunched over, squinting at the screen as his mouth opened up a mere centimeter. 

“I think…” he breathes. “I am… done!”

He shuts the screen, the assignment autosaving as he throws himself back in the seat. He stretches his arms, hearing the cracks in his muscles as he stretches. With a huge yawn, he squeezes his eyes shut while you’re still at it. Watching you silently, he chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re doing too much work.”

“No, I’m not,” you simply retort. “I’m just making sure that everything is presentable.”

“I’m pretty sure it already is,” he sighs. You shake your head, eyes starting to burn but you refuse to wipe them. “No, I still have to do the transitions and animations for the text and pictures.”

“There you go,” he chuckles. “Proving my point.”

“Didn’t you say you were glad to work with such a scholar like me?”

“Yeah,” Gojo says. “But I’m starting to regret it.”

With a sarcastic laugh, you finally shut your laptop screen. “I’ll finish the rest of it later. I’m pooped out.”

The two of you are about to leave, agreeing to go out and get lunch together before heading your separate ways. Walking together out the door, you can’t help but think about how the more you spend time with Gojo, the more your heart flutters. You enjoy getting to know the man, his interests and what he doesn’t like. He’s very easy to talk to, which you aren’t always used to, having to take some time to open up. Today, he wore a sweater that was twice his size and a pair of charcoal gray sweatpants and it was so simple, yet it sparked up a heat inside of you that made you feel embarrassed. 

You feel so abashed, wondering if it’s normal to be experiencing such high school level emotions as someone in their early twenties. Your breathing grows heavy as he draws closer to you, nudging your shoulder as he teases you about something. The both of you had agreed on getting Chinese down in the food court, about the head down when he all of a sudden stopped. He spots two familiar faces. His heart pangs when he sees Geto and Shoko sitting at a table on the other side of the library. His step falters as you walk ahead. When you look back, he says, “Wait up for me? I wanna speak to a few… friends of mine.”

You follow his gaze, ultimately nodding as you walk ahead. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

Gojo doesn’t get it. As Chat Noir, it’s so easy to confront his enemies. To put on a brave face and go against them in a battle of two-on-one. Is it the extra hand that makes it easier? Is it the fact that he’s not alone? He fiddles with his fingers, picking at the dirt inside of his fingernails before inhaling deeply. 

One foot in front of the other, he walks over to their table, his shadow alerting them of his presence. They sit rigid in their seats, looking up at the taller individual as no one says anything for a while. Shoko has to be the one to break the stifling silence between the three of them as Geto turns his gaze away from Gojo. “Do you need something?”

“Can I sit right here for a quick minute?” Shoko looks over at Geto, but Geto’s gaze is still on his laptop, typing away furiously in order to keep his attention off of Gojo. Shoko lets out a sigh, having told Geto that he needed to speak to Gojo in order to get things resolved. However, the boy seemed to be more stubborn than an ass. She motions to the chair, giving Gojo the go ahead with a slight eye roll. “Go ahead.”

When Gojo grabs the chair, he spins it around, leaning against the back of it. His breath trembles as he averts his gaze down to the table instead of directly at them. “I want to apologize—”

Geto scoffs, cutting off Gojo before he can continue. Gojo inwardly curses his best friend for not making this any easier on him, but an apology isn’t supposed to be that— easy. With a deep inhale, Gojo continues, finally looking up to see that both of their eyes are on him. Geto gestures for him to continue with the roll of his hand. “Go on.”

“I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other,” Gojo fiddled with his fingers underneath the table, cracking each and every knuckle until he couldn’t crack anymore. “I—” He had practiced this in his head a thousand times, rehearsing as he knew exactly what to say. He had made plenty of plans and wasted initiatives to meet with them when he could, but always bailed at the very last moment. Now, everything that he mentally prepared himself was gone and out the window of his mind. “—I was lying… I do have something to hide.”

“Oh?” Geto didn’t expect this much from him. An apology, yes, but was he really going to reveal the very thing he was suspecting him to be? Gojo nods, losing some tension in his shoulders. 

“I can’t tell you what though,” Gojo grows more confident, looking the two of them in the eye. “I just… can’t. And I really wish I could. The moment I found out, I wanted to, but—” If he continued on elaborating, Gojo knew they could possibly guess what or badger him to know in more further detail, so he restrained himself. “—I just can’t tell you guys what.”

Finally, he raises his hands to the table, his entire body relaxing. “I’m sorry for constantly ditching you both. I’ll try to be a better friend from now on.”

Shoko looked happy, seemingly approving of his apology. However, Geto was the one he worried for the most. He knew how well his friend could hold a grudge. Both Gojo and Shoko stared at the long-haired man, waiting for his approval. With a deep sigh, Geto dropped his shoulders. “That’s all you could have said from the jump. We would’ve understood.”

“I know,” Gojo elongates his groan. “But I panicked and instead, made everything worse.”

“That you did,” Shoko agrees with a point. 

“Can I treat you guys for dinner as an apology?” Gojo beams, a smile gracing his features. 

“What?” Geto quips. “No lunch?”

“Nah,” Gojo says, standing up. “I actually have to go meet someone for lunch.”

Geto and Shoko give each other a curious glance before raising their eyebrow at Gojo. They saw the person he was with earlier, both questioning to themselves who that possibly could have been. Shoko asks, “Is it that girl you were studying with?”

His eyes widened, not knowing that they had seen them together. He nods. “Yeah, we were working on an assignment together.”

“Mm,” Shoko hums. With the look on his face, Shoko can tell that there’s possibly more than them just simply sharing a class together. Geto and her have both seen the two of them walking alongside each other a couple of times. The way they talked— the way they looked at each other seemed to be something more to it. “Well, I wouldn't want to keep her waiting much longer.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agreed, looking over at Geto. Relief flooded him seeing that his best friends were finally talking to him, and happy with himself for finally doing the hard part. “I’ll see you guys later?”

“Yeah,” Geto agreed, before giving him a pointed look. “That’s if you’re available.”

“I’ll let you both know what’s up,” he grins from ear-to-ear. 

Equilibrium— Gojo remembers learning that word in high school. It’s when two opposing forces or influences are balanced. It was universal amongst the majority of topics and discussions that the word can be applied. However, in that class, he was working on different chemical reactions and how he could bring them to an equal state. He liked the word— different from equivalent or equilateral. The word just had a nice sound to it. But now, he felt like he could apply it to his regular life and how it fit to the occasion. He was trying to find a balance between college, his social life, and being a hero. Never seeming to be able to find enough time to juggle all three. 

However, now, he feels like he’s one step closer. Catching up to you in the courtyard, he jogs in your direction. Hands open like a cat ready to pounce, his palms capture your shoulder as he shouts, “Boo!”

You jump with a high-pitched squeal, turning to see the devil-eyed culprit. You groan, eyebrows frowning as you slapped at his chest. “You asshole!”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,” Gojo laughs, throwing a hand over your shoulder. He walks at your height, hunched over as his feet clunk on the floor. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat of his body against yours. Your body tenses up and you’re hoping he doesn’t notice. 

“I really don’t,” you grumble, despite the heat rising to your face. 

“Ready for lunch?” His face turned towards you, so close. 

“Mhm,” you nod. “You’re paying.”

You maneuver yourself from his hold, going ahead of him. He chuckles, standing tall as he strolls after you. You didn’t need to run. He was going to pay either way. 

Yeah, Gojo nods. He’s finding equilibrium.

—

At some point, you and Gojo become a regular thing. He doesn’t ask what you’re doing and if you have the time for something, he just messages you that he’d like to do something and tell you to join him, and you’d just agree. Or, he’d ambush you on your way out of classes to seek out your comfort in the library or the campus cafe right next to it. He becomes such a natural occurrence in your life that you don’t even question it, not that you ever did. 

Tonight, he’s invited you out with his friends. The ones you saw in the library— Shoko and Geto, if you’re remembering them correctly. You feel so tense in their presence, watching how fluidly they interact with each other. Shoko’s sitting to your left, elbows on the table as she leans over, silently listening to the two goofballs. She’s glancing at you occasionally, wondering if you’re usually this quiet. You don’t seem that way when you’re with Gojo.

“You alright?” She directs her attention to you. “Or, are you tired of us already?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m good.”

“So,” Shoko begins. “You’re a business major, too, huh? You’re not as obnoxious as the rest of them are. How do you deal with it?”

You snort at her comment, eyes lighting up as you shift towards her. “I disassociate and shut them out from the rest of the world.”

“That’s what you must be doing with Satoru, then. Ignoring his annoying ass.”

“Oh, definitely,” you giggle. Gojo squints his eyes, looking from Shoko to you. He’s enjoying the fact that you’re getting along with her, watching how you’ve come to relax in her presence. You start to laugh before glancing over at him and immediately reverting your attention back to Shoko. Something itches inside of him to interject, no longer listening to Geto when he blurts, “Are you guys talking about me?”

And boldly you say, “Yes, and it’s all about how horrible of a friend you are.”

Gojo pouts, taking your statement seriously as he turns his attention to Shoko. “I thought we got past that. Haven’t you guys forgiven me?”

“Oh my gosh,” Shoko gasps. “She was joking, ‘Toru. Can’t you take those anymore?”

“Oh,” he juts his bottom lip out. The two girls give each other a look before laughing together. The rest of the night goes smoothly, integrating each other’s separate conversations into one. The four of you are loud in the small restaurant, having to be told on multiple occasions to silent down. When the sky gets too dark, you and Gojo say your farewells to Shoko and Geto. 

“It was nice meeting you guys in person,” you wave. “I’ve only heard your names when he was talking about you. It’s good to put names on the faces.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Geto smiles. “It’s good to see ‘Toru talk to someone outside of us.”

Gojo grimaces, groaning at Geto’s statement. “Yeah, whatever. We have classes tomorrow.

“That’s a fucking lie,” Geto snorts, but dismissing the two of you. “Whatever. Good night.”

You don’t remember the last time you’ve ever confessed to someone. In junior high, you believed? But each occasion that you’ve had a crush, you were always the one to cave into your emotions and confess. It’s the same way you're feeling right now, feeling the way your emotions are starting to bubble on your chest, slowly starting to kill you. 

Right now, Gojo’s right next to you as you’re unlocking the door to your apartment, making sure that you get inside safely. You’re fumbling with your keys, but the urge to confess is starting to ruminate and boil over. You’ve gone through your keys for the fourth time before you just finally give up and spin around. “Gojo, can I ask you something?”

It comes out so abrupt that it catches him off guard, making him straighten his posture as he nods. “Yeah, you can ask me anything.”

“I—” Maybe you were getting way too ahead of yourself, reacting immediately to your impulses. “I…”

You take a deep breath, controlling your racing heart. “I don’t know if I’m getting way too ahead of myself, but… I don’t know. I could be reading all the signs wrong and I’ll feel like a complete idiot, and then I’ll feel like a complete idiot, but—”

Gojo’s eyes widen, taking in what you’re saying— through all your rambling and nonsensical words— he can deduce exactly what you’re trying to say. He should be elated because deep down, his heart was begging for the exact same thing. However, fear begins to seep in his heart in regards to your safety. Gojo could give you the love that you needed, but Chat Noir can’t. His two identities would only hold you back, and he wouldn’t be able to give you what you need. 

“—Would you like to go out sometime? As a date.”

You’re waiting so expectantly, pretty eyes that look up with him— a fine mixture of anticipation and nerves. You’ve got a horrible habit of biting your nails, chewing on them and feeling the crunch as you peel at them with your teeth. Your heart starts pounding, beating against your chest in strong attempts to escape. It’s too long of a wait and by the time he calls out your name, it’s a low whisper. His eyes drop and there’s something in his eyes that immediately makes you assume, no. “I— I’m sorry, but…”

Gosh, you cry. I feel so stupid. You shake your head, quick to dismiss it as he calls out name again, telling you to wait. However, you choose to ignore it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you grab your keys, going to unlock the door. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

With that, you shut the door on Gojo. Tears streaming down your face in utter embarrassment as you curse yourself. But, you could only put the blame back on you. That’s what you get for being too hasty, you chastise yourself. You wipe away the tears as you blindly lead yourself to your bedroom, dropping your bag by the door and diving straight on the bed. 

Outside, Gojo still stands by the door. Cursing at himself for hurting you, he runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the knots. Just like that, that band of equilibrium breaks in two. Two unequal pieces as both solutions start bubbling over. I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot. It's all that Gojo can repeat to himself. In the little opening of his bag, Plagg looks up at Gojo with his bright blue eyes. “Why’d you say no? Don’t you like her?”

“I do, I just—” Gojo sighs, giving up. “Just forget it. It’s just one other thing that I was bound to ruin.”

[perfectsunlight]

𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢 — 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰ yeji is the star of the football team and EVERYONE knows that. this girl is hands down the cornerstone of the team

✰ but everyone also knows you're dating THE hwang yeji as well ;)

✰ before you met her, you alr knew of her reputation. yeji was js like the rest of the football team; a major asshole

✰ she wasn't as bad as her teammates, but she was def the one with the loudest mouth tbh

✰ hell she even argued with her COACHES at some points. this girl js does not like it when things don't go her way

✰ the first time you met was bc she parked in your spot by accident. she wasn't gonna move her car until she saw you walking up to confront her abt it tho...

✰ you pointed a finger in her face, an angry pout on your lips as you explained to her how you were late to your classes bc of her

✰ however...she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying tbh LOL

✰ you were just so goddamn pretty, even when you were yelling at her in the middle of the school parking lot

✰ needless to say she went from asshole yeji to lovesick yeji

✰ immediately apologized and moved right that second, but not before leaving her number on ur windshield ;)

✰ "i'm sorry again. let me make it up to you this weekend at dinner? xxx-xxx-xxxx :)"

when you're at school:

✰ yk how there's those yearbook superlatives with "best dressed", "best eyes", "best laugh", etc? you two take the cake for best couple

✰ you two don't show massive pda during school hours. the most you two do is hold hands or you holding onto yeji's bicep

✰ whenever you're getting out of class, she's waiting for you to walk you to your next one

✰ she's just a big sweetheart who doesn't care if she's late to her own class for walking you across campus to yours LMAO

✰ you and yeji sit in your separate groups of friends during lunch, but you two alw sneak glances at each other from across the courtyard

✰ getting a text immediately after yeji catches you staring that says "meet me in the bathroom" ;)

✰ she alw insists on a quick makeout session just before the bell rings so she can have you all to herself, even js for 5 mins

✰ oh and good luck if you have a class with her 💀 she's gonna be passing you notes from across the aisle, throwing things at you, winking at you, etc.

✰ she's the best distraction tho so you can't complain too much, esp since she's just so pretty

✰ sometimes yeji is in a bad mood bc of a bad game or practice, and she really js needs some space

✰ but she will never and i mean NEVER turn down an offer to hang out with you instead of sulking in her bedroom

✰ your go-to is alw a nice walk in the park. yeji likes being in nature, and being with you just adds more comfort to the mix

✰ she gets REALLY clingy whenever she's all sulky its literally so cute :c

✰ like im talking hugging you from behind, whining and swinging your hands together when you walk, and ALWAYS kissing your cheek

✰ she js needs you as physically close to her as possible!! you're her baby after all

✰ and if it's YOU who has had a bad day or smth? be prepared for the biggest pampering

✰ flowers, driving you around at night in her porsche, taking you out shopping

✰ hell she'll spoil you ROTTEN. she js hates seeing you so sad and down so she will do everything in her power to turn ur frown upside down

if you're also an athlete:

✰ you two are alw supporting each other at games. yeji is def sporting your jersey/number

✰ you're each other's good luck charms <3 and best believe yeji cannot go out on the field without a good luck kiss from you !

✰ now if you couldn't make it to her game because you had one of your own, then she'd def call you before she leaves the locker room. talking to you is a MUST, esp bc the poor girl gets rlly nervous before big games :(

✰ this girl LOVES to compete with you. it's alw a competition whenever the two of you train together, esp bc neither of you like to lose

✰ she could make a competition out of racing from the field to her porsche smh

✰ don't be mistaken tho, she LOVES training with you. it gives her an excuse to work harder so she won't embarrass herself lmao

if you're not an athlete:

✰ oh you're never not wearing this girl's letterman jacket. she refuses to see you around school without it 💀

✰ now this is a BIG move bc before you, yeji NEVER and i mean NEVER took that thing off. it was her pride and joy, and she loved sporting it around like the walking trophy she was

✰ but then she started dating you, and that changed instantly. at first she let you wear it one night bc she didn't want you to be cold after meeting up with her after a late night practice

✰ you were abt to give it back to her after you were done hanging out, but she js smiled and shook her head, telling you she wanted you to keep it :)

✰ you like going to the top floors of the library bc they overlook the football field, and when yeji is practicing you can work on hw while watching ur gf tehe