#two very different classes falling in love
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one thing that often crosses my mind, is the brothers watching mams fall in love with Mc and they just canât bring themselves to be upset about it,
Because all of a sudden heâs getting lost in thought staring at them, he starts to actually save some money just to buy things for them, he gets bashful whenever theyâre around and tries extra hard to tell a story or two were he seems cool.
At first they think itâs laughable(and maybe a little pathetic), but every time they go to tease him about it the only thing he can really manage is a simple âshut upâ before continuing on, mostly because he knows theyâre right. Heâs inlove with a human.. and so what!? Heâs the Avatar of Greed! One of the seven lords! The Great Mammon! He can do whatever he wants, however he wants, whenever he wants!
but as time passes he doesnât even say anything back to them when they go to tease, maybe one day asmo leans over to ask what he could be staring at- only for mams to not even mumble anything back or look his way, because heâs just so occupied with staring at Mc whoâs just across the room. Maybe they arenât even doing anything, maybe theyâre in class and the teacher called mc up to do a problem on the board- or maybe theyâre at diavolos place and mc is chatting with someone. Whatever it is, the look in mammons eyes is enough to not make asmo offended from being blatantly ignored. Sure he knows he couldnât understand what mams seeâs in that human, but knows love when he seeâs it. so, over time as asmo starts to watch his brother and the human, he gains a small appreciation for their dorky little relationship⌠though the appreciation stops being small since he fan girls whenever he seeâs them holding hands or whenever mams rushes over to gift mc something small, only for mc to gush and act as if he just gave them the entire world! Theyâre both just the cutest together!! And he has no idea how he didnât see it before!? Sure itâs funny to his older brother acting a fool,(when is he not?) but itâs adorable to watch him stumble over himself when doing something as simple as walking Mc to class! Itâs just so cute!!
asmo then starts defending mams whenever the others say something or try to tease, maybe at first itâs a quick, âoh donât say that,â âtheyâre cute! Donât be so rude!â âOh guys donât tease,â But one day, when mc and mammon both leave the dining room, maybe to go grab something or to do a task that clearly doesnât need two people, and asmo pipes up, âyou know, im serious,â
everyone turns to look at him a little confused,
â..as in theyâre absolutely adorable together!â
âoh barf.â Levi says, not looking up from his phone, a few others mumble in agreement,
âwhat! You guys seriously canât say you havenât noticed how mammon is around them, itâs the cutest!â
Thereâs a moment of silence at the table and Asmo huffs,
âcome on, when was the last time any of you saw him saving his money to buy someone ELSE something?? Itâs clear heâs taking this seriously!â
they all take a second to think before exchanging looks with each other,
then from that point they all start to really pay attention- honestly, I could imagine mc and mams not really being quite open with their relationship when they finally do make it official, but they are REALLY bad at hiding it. so the entire household takes notice once the two start holding hands more often, giggling at seemingly nothing at all, running off together randomly at different points in the day, sitting much closer together during meals, and the two are always touching each other, from a full on grab to just leaning on each other. So of course instead of mocking mams for his feelings.. the teasing moves on to flustering the two about their very obvious not-so-secret relationship. Even luci joins in, occasionally asking mc when theyâll marry his little brother, which flusters the both of them. And unfortunately causes the others to join in.
at least theyâre supportive<3
#obey me#obey me mc#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me satan#obey me mammon x mc#obey me mc x mammon#obey me fluff#obey me brothers#literal cuties:(
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Wolfgang Akire through the lens of the law: an analysis
i would like to give a disclaimer that while im very interested in the law, im not a lawyer or in law school. my knowledge comes from the few law classes i have taken, participation in a couple mock trials, and some personal research, so please take this with a grain of salt! if im missing something or saying something inaccurate, please let me know! i am always open to learning more!! not to mention this is my understanding of law in the United States, so this may differ by country.
in the end, this isnât meant to be too serious, just using the knowledge i do have and applying it to p:eg!!!
okay now spoilers for the prologue and all of chapter 1!
well ig before we get into it let me say rest in peace a king... I will miss you, you hypocritical bastard........
alright, so firstly, letâs consider Wolfgangâs character profile.
two things stand out to me here. the first is how he has âsuccessfully defended over 200 of his clients without dropping a single case.â we can infer that Wolfgang is a criminal defense attorney. itâs possible he could be a lawyer in the civil law sector instead, but considering his strong feelings about murder and crime, and the fact that this is Danganronpa, it leads me to believe he is a criminal attorney for the sake of relevance (I don't think any of us would care if he were a corporate attorney after all).
now, that sentence you just read is particularly interesting in the case of Wolfgang Akire. From the prologue's mock trial, we can see that Wolfgang feels very passionately about murder, condemning the murderer even without insight as to why they committed the crime, instead big on retribution and justice (which the definition of could definitely be debated). Yet, as a defense lawyer, Wolfgang would have been defending people from criminal accusations, from anything to armed robbery, arson, or murder. weâre not particularly sure on his view of other crime, but we can assume he also has a similarly negative view of it that he has of murder. out of 200 people (within such a short time span of finishing law school too), what are the odds that out of all 200, not one of them was actually guilty? of course, lawyers have the ability to drop or not take on cases, but as his profile says, he hasnât dropped a single case! itâs quite possible he had complete faith that every client was innocent, but with the evidence and files heâd have to go through, he had to have seen something that was damning and prepared accordingly to address in the most sympathetic way possible to avoid prosecution winning their case. and that's the thing with Wolfgang; his job requires building sympathy for the accused, and it requires sowing seeds of doubt in prosecution's case. there had to have been someone that he was defending from an accurate charge(s). so whether he knew it or not, he has very likely defended people guilty of crime; and yet, he still feels very adamantly against them.
Here's where I fall short on my analysis; I honestly do not know what to make of this conclusion. his behavior and his ideals are almost contradictory in a sense. is this insight to wolfgang's clear hypocrisy? but what does that really say about him? I'd love to know what any of y'all think in regards to this :0
Now, the second thing that stands out to me is that he wants to make sure that everyone is fairly represented and make sure logic and evidence drive the discussion. While this does seem to be true, the mock trial shows that he lets his feelings become a big part of the discussion as well. everything he does screams prosecutor to me, so it was shocking to find out he works as defense. Wolfgang has a very interesting way of viewing things, almost dichotomous, unlike what his profile says. it's similar to the format of a trial, where it's not meant to be a team working together to find the complexities and nuance within a certain issue, but rather an attempt to prove your point and disprove the other side. trials aren't supposed to be a discussion where everyone reaches the truth together (Danganronpa trials are not very accurate but of course I don't think they were intended to be in the first place), they are for you to win your case-- as a defense attorney, its poking as many holes into the prosecutionâs case as possible. (little fun side note, this is very similar to how debate works; Wolfgang and Damon are a lot more alike than one would originally think.)
Considering all of this, it makes me wonder if Wolfgang was intentionally trying to split the group apart,,,, because it's easier. because it makes more sense. as defense, lawyers may pin the crime on another, but without the burden of proof that prosecution does, they can sling out accusations to increase doubt on prosecutions case without having to actually prove it (that would be left for a separate case). it's easier to divide a group and have a bunch of people follow you while isolating the 'other side', and with that division made, it's more likely someone you isolated will be the 'villian' anyways; and in this case, this was true-- Eva, who has been socially ostracized her whole life, was driven to murder to protect herself from the blinding fear that everyone was out for her (even if that wasn't entirely true). this could be just how Wolfgang has gotten used to going through his life. maybe the bad habits he picked up from his father were the divisive kind of us vs them mindset lawyers have to have in a courtroom.
speaking of his father, let's address the motive-- there's so many things that Wolfgang's blackmail could be about; faking his law degree, not taking the bar exam, defending horrible people, the list goes on. Honestly, a scenario i have considered is that it's about him defending his father for a crime he actually did commit, yet winning the case; or his father commuting a crime in general and winning his case, leaving Wolfgang conflicted as that is the sort of thing he does all the time, yet his father had just taken away his mothers life and gotten free (this is very much just me guessing a possibility though). when Wolfgang was hallucinating, he says he's not like them (to diana who he thinks is someone else) and he'll never be like them; It's most likely that he saw his father. the theory I'm going with right now is that his father was at the very least heavily involved in the likely murder of his mother (thus bring her back in reference to his mom). his father was probably also a lawyer and may have pushed wolfgang into going into the field himself, especially when he sent him to law school as a teenager. maybe Wolfgang wanted to live up to the expectations his father had of him. who knows exactly what Wolfgang wanted everyone to know him as, it was probably a long the lines of a competent lawyer. but, as of right now it's all speculation (objection! haha.... that was not funny my bad), so again, I'd love to hear some thoughts.
Another little funny thing i'd like to note is when Damon and Eva come back to the dinning hall and Wolfgang asks where they've been, Damon responds saying it was for discussing the motive. He's internally smug about how defeated Wolfgang seemed to be by that, and I thought that the funniest shit; very similar to being on cross examination, thinking you have the witness in your hands, when suddenly they wiggle out of your accusation. he's so real for that.
that is pretty much all i've got so far! let me know what y'all think and thanks for reading!!! :)
#project eden's garden#p:eg#project eden's garden chapter 1 spoilers#p:eg chapter 1 spoilers#Wolfgang akire#damon maitsu#eva tsunaka#character analysis#criminal law#project edens garden#p:eg spoilers#p:eg chapter 1#would love some input!!! :)
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am i tweaking out or do i actually see vaxleth parallels with dorym. and itâs making me very unwell somebody help me
#critical role#dorian storm#orym of the air ashari#dorym#vax'ildan#keyleth#bells hells#c3#campaign 3#dorian x orym#vaxleth#campaign 1#both revolve around slow burn pining#gay in some fashion#liam oâbrien character sells soul to protect loved ones thus destroying their own future#other character is highly important and also born to be silly but forced to be serious in some way#two very different classes falling in love#communication is hard#not to mention the similar relationships with gods#and also tragic backstories#but thereâs so many things that are paralleled perfectly in my opinion#WHICH MAKES ME SCARED#GOD HELP US
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The Elite College Students Who Canât Read Books
Nicholas Dames has taught Literature Humanities, Columbia Universityâs required great-books course, since 1998. He loves the job, but it has changed. Over the past decade, students have become overwhelmed by the reading. College kids have never read everything theyâre assigned, of course, but this feels different. Damesâs students now seem bewildered by the thought of finishing multiple books a semester. His colleagues have noticed the same problem. Many students no longer arrive at collegeâeven at highly selective, elite collegesâprepared to read books.
This development puzzled Dames until one day during the fall 2022 semester, when a first-year student came to his office hours to share how challenging she had found the early assignments. Lit Hum often requires students to read a book, sometimes a very long and dense one, in just a week or two. But the student told Dames that, at her public high school, she had never been required to read an entire book. She had been assigned excerpts, poetry, and news articles, but not a single book cover to cover.
[...] Twenty years ago, Damesâs classes had no problem engaging in sophisticated discussions of Pride and Prejudice one week and Crime and Punishment the next. Now his students tell him up front that the reading load feels impossible. Itâs not just the frenetic pace; they struggle to attend to small details while keeping track of the overall plot.
No comprehensive data exist on this trend, but the majority of the 33 professors I spoke with relayed similar experiences. Many had discussed the change at faculty meetings and in conversations with fellow instructors. [...] Daniel Shore, the chair of Georgetownâs English department, told me that his students have trouble staying focused on even a sonnet.
Failing to complete a 14-line poem without succumbing to distraction suggests one familiar explanation for the decline in reading aptitude: smartphones. Teenagers are constantly tempted by their devices, which inhibits their preparation for the rigors of college courseworkâthen they get to college, and the distractions keep flowing. âItâs changed expectations about whatâs worthy of attention,â Daniel Willingham, a psychologist at UVA, told me. âBeing bored has become unnatural.â Reading books, even for pleasure, canât compete with TikTok, Instagram, YouTube. In 1976, about 40 percent of high-school seniors said they had read at least six books for fun in the previous year, compared with 11.5 percent who hadnât read any. By 2022, those percentages had flipped.
[...] Mike Szkolka, a teacher and an administrator who has spent almost two decades in Boston and New York schools, told me that excerpts have replaced books across grade levels. âThereâs no testing skill that can be related to ⌠Can you sit down and read Tolstoy?ââ he said. And if a skill is not easily measured, instructors and district leaders have little incentive to teach it. [...] The pandemic, which scrambled syllabi and moved coursework online, accelerated the shift away from teaching complete works.
[...] But itâs not clear that instructors can foster a love of reading by thinning out the syllabus. Some experts I spoke with attributed the decline of book reading to a shift in values rather than in skill sets. Students can still read books, they argueâtheyâre just choosing not to. Students today are far more concerned about their job prospects than they were in the past. Every year, they tell Howley that, despite enjoying what they learned in Lit Hum, they plan to instead get a degree in something more useful for their career.
[...] For years, Dames has asked his first-years about their favorite book. In the past, they cited books such as Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. Now, he says, almost half of them cite young-adult books. Rick Riordanâs Percy Jackson series seems to be a particular favorite.
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SWEET RELIEF - C.S
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.. â â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: Chris canât help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what heâs doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.
content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink
word count: 2.8k
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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers.Â
âHey, Chris!â You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in classâŚa lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chrisâs brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much.Â
Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah⌠he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then heâd like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck⌠heâs been on the call for no more than ten second and heâs already getting himself worked up.Â
âChrisâŚ?â He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice.Â
âYeah... Iâm here, hey y/n.â He couldnât help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response.Â
âOkay well glad you're here,â you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, âwhy donât you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?â You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information.Â
âYeah, yeah sureâŚâ he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher âwhy did he give us the paper today, anyway?â Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on.Â
âI have no idea, itâs not like we donât already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? Itâs getting a bit intense at this point!â
Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenarioâŚ
âDid you see jenny today?â You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades.Â
âNo, why? What was she doing this time?â Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you.Â
âWoah Iâm surprised you didnât see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paperâŚ. practically had all the guys drooling,â you huffed. Youâd always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.
âNah, guess i donât really care that much about her,â Chris was very aware of Jennyâs usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldnât pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldnât understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you.Â
Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chrisâs eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits.Â
Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didnât want to stop. No⌠he couldnât stop himself.
âHuh, thats surprising, i couldâve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.â You laughed.Â
Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs.Â
"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."
"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?"Â
You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason.Â
He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i canât actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense."Â
Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.Â
âSo thats basically the first part,â you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chrisâs hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line. Â
He wonât do more. He canât, this is just so wrong of him JustâŚrelieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying âyesâs and ânoâs, answering your questions.Â
âSorry, Iâm rambling. Did you have any questions?â You ask, feeling as if Chris wasnât getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if heâd written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.Â
His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you âIâI donât think so.â He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure heâs extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chrisâs breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you canât hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches.Â
âChris?â You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.Â
âYeah?â He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.Â
âAre youâŚokay?âÂ
Your question makes him halt, much to his cockâs dismay. âW-what?â
âYou sound⌠i donât know, out of breath?â You say, behind the line trying to think of why.
âReally, you think?â He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chrisâs lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing...Â
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. Heâs out of breath because heâsâŚ
âChris.â You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking âyes?â again. Â
âWhat are you doing?âÂ
Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. âIâm studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.â He says, really forcing down his cockâs wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldnât help it.Â
âYouâre sure youâre good?â You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.
âNo. No, Iâm all good, i swear.â He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry.Â
âAh huh, yeahâŚokay,â you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. âDid i tell you how good you looked today?â
Chrisâs eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldnât be able to take it much longer.
âUh, n-no,â he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing.Â
âWell, you did, your hairâŚwow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?â You paused momentarily, hearing Chrisâs surprised whimper. âSorry thats kind of a goofy thing to sayâŚsorry.â You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.
âI- no i donât think its goofy. a-at allâŚâ his words are broken up by that heaving panting.
âGod. really? Youâre so sweet chrisâŚwow,â You hum, making Chrisâs hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.Â
âR-really?â His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind.Â
âYeah, i mean youâre the literal sweetestâ you hum lightly, âyou always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! Youâre so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for meâ you were practically grinning at this point.
Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.âI a-am?â He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.
âWell of course, and youâre always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help youâŚrelax sometime, relieve some of yourâŚtension.â You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.
Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you donât know. âMy tensionâŚ?â
âI mean, yeah⌠i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know Iâve been told I am very good at givingâŚmassages.â It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris mustâve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.
The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.
âYouâd do that for me?â Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.
âOf course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your bodyâŚâ Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, âhowever, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.âÂ
Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. âNo clothes?âÂ
âNo clothes.â You confirm. âWould that be, okay? I wouldnât want to make you uncomfortableâ â
âYes.â His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. âThat would be fine.âÂ
You grin. âGood. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. Iâd have to straddle you of course.â You pause to hear chrisâs heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. âYou may even have to flip around, because Iâve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.âÂ
Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. âAs in straddling..my front?âÂ
âYeah, is that okay?âÂ
âUh huh.â He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.Â
âI could give you that massage the next time we study.â You say, making chrisâs breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. âI could come over to yours.âÂ
At this point he couldnât care how desperate he sounded. âYes. Please, come anytime.âÂ
âOr maybe you should cum?â You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chrisâs body.Â
âWâwhat?âÂ
âCome to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.â You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.Â
âFuckâŚyeah that sounds good, i-if youâre happy then s-so am iâŚâ he was no biting his own lip so hard he couldâve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand.Â
âSee, again, you are alway thinkingâŚof me,â oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, âyou are such a good boy.â And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt.Â
âFuckâ he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did.Â
âMaybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,â
Chrisâs eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chrisâs heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge.Â
âFuck, you can do whatever you want to me,â Chris let out with a deep breathe.Â
Oh, you certainly wouldâŚ
ŕźśâ˘ââŕ¨âĄŕ§âââ˘ŕźś
A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes đđI really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk
ily my angels đ (especially @gamermattsgf)
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you
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changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you canât have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot
Summary: your âcasualâ fling with art isnât working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.
FALL 2006
You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the roomâ the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy. Â
It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl heâd met because he needed help understanding the reading for class.Â
Youâd known each other for months by thenâ hooking up, going on dates that âwerenât dates,â spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you werenât bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name.Â
Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.
You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you shouldâve felt grateful. You shouldâve been having fun.
But just as soon as youâd arrived, heâd slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.
âLooks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.â You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi.Â
Unfortunately, youâd both been ditched.
âArt isnât my boyfriend,â you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly.Â
Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, heâd interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Artâs dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the itâs casual, nothing serious conversation theyâd had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall.Â
But you were being so understanding and cool about that.Â
Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. âReally?â The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw.Â
You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldnât help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. âDid Art say something to you? About us, I mean.â
The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way.Â
Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothersâ past. âNot directly. But youâre here together, right? And heâs still seeing you.â
âI guess,â you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest.Â
âIf youâre worried about Tashi, donât be,â Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. âHey, Iâm serious. Nothingâs gonna happen there. Trust me.â
It shouldâve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?
Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didnât cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart.Â
But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi wouldâve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of.Â
âI need another drink,â you said suddenly, meeting Patrickâs gaze. âDo you wanna come with me?â Patrickâs eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team.Â
There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. âSure. I could use something stronger.â
ââ
An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm.Â
His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.
âWhat were you doing with him?â He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress youâd gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs.Â
His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. âWho?â You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.
âPatrick.â His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. âI saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.â His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer.Â
So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. âGetting drinks,â you managed feebly. âFuck, Art, I canât concentrate while yââ
You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. âJust drinks? For an hour?â
A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. âWe were in the living room,â you managed between soft pants and moans. âHe was telling me about theâ godâ about the tour.â
Artâs expression flickered slightlyâ a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.
âFuck,â you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he woreâ why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.
With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeansâ you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need.Â
He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers.Â
âYou smell like him,â he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didnât have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there.Â
His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. âNeed you,â you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.
And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.
âYouâre so fucking sexy,â he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He shouldâve been perfectly content.
As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly�� Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image.Â
Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes.Â
You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournamentsâ severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl heâd set his sights on. Thatâs how you know youâre doing it right.Â
Why was he thinking about Patrick?
He tried to lose himself in youâ in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. âM so close already. Gonna make me cum.Â
When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt.Â
You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine.Â
You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.
âYouâre so gross,â you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. âDo I need to buy you a hamper?â
He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. âI have one, itâs just full.â A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. âSee? I have clean clothes.â
You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt.Â
âWhat? What does it say?â You asked with a laugh. You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphicâ faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. âOh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. Iâve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.â
Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. âI went with Patrick a few years back.â
A smile turned your lips. âItâs sweet that you two are such good friends.â You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. âDid you and Tashi have fun tonight?â The insecurity in your words was palpable.
Art shrugged. âA partyâs a party, yâknow?â He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. âJust lost track of time. I wonât run off on you next time.â
You chewed your lip shyly. âI think itâd be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,â you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction.Â
âCâmere,â he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often heâd place a chaste kiss on the skin there and youâd forget why you wanted to ask him to move.
In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time heâd let you stay the night.Â
SPRING 2007
After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time.Â
Most likely not the last time.Â
Knowing yourself, youâd be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeksâ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew youâd be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.
You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that youâd accept just about anything he could throw at you.Â
No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when heâs horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. Youâre game.Â
Youâd gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards youâd painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldnât manage.
All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldnât even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because sheâd fucking gotten injured and it wasnât her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.
âYouâve been staring down the Reeseâs Pieces for the last five minutes.â The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenlyâ the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. âDo you need five bucks?â
âShouldnât you be with Tashi?â You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. âI heard about her match. I just figured that youâdâŚâ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. âOh.â
He swallowed and nodded. âYeah, thatâs⌠itâs over. Did you want the Reeseâs, or not?âÂ
âNo,â you shook your head and laughed. âI just neededâŚâ you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?
You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You neededâŚ
âAnother drink?â Patrick suggested.
You nodded eagerly like thatâs what youâd been thinking all along. âYes. Another drink.â You paused, glancing at his bags. âDo you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She wonât mind.â
Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would.Â
Well, he did his best. It wasnât exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine.Â
Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes heâd written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies youâd gone to see and tickets to his matches.Â
âHere,â you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. Youâd already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. âItâs kind of pathetic, isnât it?â
âWhat?â He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, heâd need to go find something stronger.
You sighed and took a long drink yourself. âI dunno, the whole⌠thing. Art.â You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. âI mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?â
âMaybe self-respect is overrated.â He laughed and stepped closer. âFull disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.â
âWeâre in the same boat then,â You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. âWeâre both jilted lovers who need a distraction.â
You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. âBottoms up,â you said with a coy smile. âLetâs find something stronger.â
ââ
An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer.Â
His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didnât notice or didnât care to cover up.Â
The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot.Â
You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didnât move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin.Â
âThanks,â he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.Â
With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.
He shook his head as you tried to make him danceâ your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. âNo, no. I donât dance,â he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.
âBecause you canât? Or because you think youâre too cool?â You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. âCâmon, if you dance, Iâll tell you a secret.â
That did make him laugh. âWhat are you, five?â
With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. âSee? Weâre dancing,â you said, peering up at him through long lashes.
You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing⌠kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.
Heâd done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Artâs spite would fade and theyâd be friends again.
Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasnât an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.
And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoriaâs Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but youâ you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh heâd slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, heâd had enough to drink that he didnât really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.
Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done wouldâve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him.Â
You leaned in, chest to chest. âCan I tell you the secret now?â You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. âI think itâd be a bad idea for us to fuck. Weâre both in a bad place.â
âMhmm. Bad idea,â he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashiâs) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.
âBut I still want to.â You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like youâd take anything heâd give you and thank him for it. âWe can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.â
It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasnât actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at.Â
But he was good at other things.
You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before youâd started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different makingâ with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.
It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasnât the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process.Â
You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrowâs date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later.Â
His lips met yours in a messy clashâ teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like heâd been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue.Â
Youâd never been kissed with that level of need and desperationâ that desireâ and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.
His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim.Â
âThat feel good?â You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly. There was something addicting about his needâ you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. âTell me what you want me to do.â
His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.
âYou could start by taking these clothes off,â he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.
âYouâre not gonna help?â You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra.Â
That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. âDoes Art help?â It shouldnât have turned him onâ that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrickâs touch. âLift your arms.â
As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldnât have been thinking about), and he couldnât help but wonder if thatâs how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldnât have been thinking about either).Â
He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that heâd perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms.Â
Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.
The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeansâ you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.
Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor.Â
âIt was only, like, five steps,â you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.
When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. âCan I go down on you?â
You laughed lightly in disbelief. âAre you serious right now?â
He nodded. âAs a heart attack.â He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. âCâmon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.â
You giggled, pushing his face away. âYeah. Fuck. You can.â
He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly.Â
You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.
The sight made your stomach flipâ the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You couldâve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.
A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach.Â
âFuck,â he said lowly, peering up at you. âYou get this wet from just kissing?â
Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.
It was messyâ a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue.Â
There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he couldâve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reactionâ in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face.Â
Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp.Â
He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants.Â
âIâmâ Iâ fuckââ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.
Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked upâ a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that wouldâve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers.Â
When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him.Â
âHoly shit,â you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room.Â
âFeel good?â He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. âGonna give me another one?â
âYeah,â you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasnât much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. âYouâre all messy.â
He kissed you slowâ leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldnât help but relish in it. Youâd never kissed Art like that, wouldâve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal.Â
You stayed like that for a whileâ just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips.Â
âCondom?â He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.
âMhmm. Bedside table.â
He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer. Â
He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. âYou sure thisâll fit me? Iâm bigger than Art.â
You rolled your eyes. âNot by that much.â
âWhere it counts, though.â His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadnât quite decided how he wanted you yet.Â
âTurn over,â he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. âDoes Art ever fuck you like this?â
He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasnât going to give you yet. âDo you have to bring him up right now?â
No. He knew he really didnât, but he couldnât help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you.Â
It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrickâs thigh was touching yoursâ he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath.Â
And if that hadnât been enough to give it away, Artâs stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.
He didnât do anything then, but maybe he shouldâve.Â
âIâll take that as a no.â He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It couldâve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hiltâ your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him.Â
With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Artâs cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.
âShit, youâre fuckinâ tight,â he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. âWhat? You need something?âÂ
One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. âMore,â was all you could manage.
âCan you take it?â Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. âBecause I can go slow if you needââ
âYouâre such an asshole. Just fuck mââ
A rough snap of Patrickâs hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest.Â
Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.
But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadnât really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.
You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.
Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine.Â
With each brutal thrust of Patrickâs cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe thatâs what you meant to say.Â
You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasnât even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that youâd somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly.Â
Maybe everything wouldâve been a lot cleaner if youâd just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows.Â
Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moansâ Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips.Â
âYou feel so fucking perfect.â His words made heat flutter through you. âNeed tâ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.â
You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge.Â
âClose,â you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. âSo closeâ f-fuckââ
Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins.Â
âThatâs it,â he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. âFuckâ squeezinâ me so tight I can barely moveâ godââ
Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted.Â
You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally cameâ buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you.Â
You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you.Â
With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Artâs presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.
âSo, when do you leave for your next tournament?â You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. âSoon, I bet. You usually donât stay long.â
âTrying to get rid of me?â He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion.Â
You shook your head. âI donât want to get rid of you, Patrick.â He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.Â
In the morning, youâd wake up squished against Patrickâs side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadnât seen them at all.
thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3
#challengers 2024#art donaldson#patrick zweig#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson fanfic#patrick zweig fanfic#challengers fanfic#my writing
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housewardens + Jamil (separately) with a reader who is their s/o and reader is low-key their simp
like they won't worship the ground they walk on, but they just.. admire..??
like reader and the character will be hanging out, on a date, or in class or something and reader just sighs dreamily and looks at them with a look of like "im the luckiest person alive." because they love them so much
and if caught the reader won't be embarrassed and will just be like "you're so pretty." or "I'm so happy we're dating"
ik it's cringe lol but if I had one of these men as my boyfriend (cough Idia cough) I would literally just admire them so much because I love them so much and they're so freaking pretty
SWEEEEP I love fluff I love a healthy couple
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË abject admiration
summary: close enough. welcome back gomez addams! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, FLUFFY!, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship
Riddle used to hate being stared at. it felt like judgment, like he was being put on trial for something he didn't do. as if the world was just... waiting for him to make a mistake so it could punish him. the first time he catches you staring, long before you were together, he almost had your head for it. now, the feeling of your eyes on him has become a comfort, though your words of admiration, your praises and affection, still make him blush
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
Leona couldn't even remember the last time his parents told him they loved him. so when he hears it from you, his first instinct is to push you away. he thinks it's justified; you must want something, I mean, who would be so nice to him for no reason?
well, you. you would
he'd never admit it, but these days, he goes out of his way to do nice things for you, to make himself look and smell good, just to get more of your praises
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
"you're so beautiful" and Azul crumbles. as cunning as he is, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand if you really wanted to. he considers himself a fortunate soul, because all you ask for in return is his time and affection
your compliments are better than any deal, your voice more melodious than any song. the very thought that you think he is pretty... him, of all people... well, you could bring him to his knees with a word
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
fawning over Kalim is absolutely impossible. he's not competitive by nature, but what you give him, he gives back ten times over. one kiss turns into ten, two gifts into twenty, and, of course, one praise turns into an entire soliloquy. you're lucky to have him? he's luckier than the richest man in the world, the most powerful mage, he insists even the Sorcerer of the Sands himself would fall to his knees and weep if he were to see your beauty. you're his sun, his moon, and his stars, and he never lets you forget it
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
Jamil had never been in love, let alone in a relationship, before you. you're his first everything... and that means you're his first admirer, too. honestly, he's not really sure whether to believe you or not at first. "I'm so happy we're dating," surely, you're not talking about him...?
but you are. he can't even fathom why, but you are
...sometimes, it's better not to question everything
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
Vil gets his fair share of compliments, and rightfully so. he's put in the work, he deserves the recognition. and, for Seven's sake, Rook is his vice housewarden- he can't escape compliments
but... somehow, they're so much different coming from you. maybe it's the way you say things, soft and gentle and full of admiration, maybe it's your voice, or maybe it's just because it's you. because he knows that when you say you're happy with him, you mean him, not the brand, not the image, not what he's expected to be. just... him. it's true love
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
Idia.exe has stopped working
even after months of dating, you still manage to catch him off guard with your "cringe couple stuff", as he calls it. it's... very distracting. you'll be mid-game, staring at him, and when he asks if you hit your head on the way in, you'll say something like "just thinking about how pretty you are" and his brain will short circuit. it's too bad he can't patch that... he'd love to respond without melting into an Idia-shaped puddle
*ŕŠâŠâ§âË
being head over heels for Malleus is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. on the other hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. even a simple "you look nice today" sends him over the moon with joy, and he will unapologetically cling to your side like the needy thing he is for the rest of the day, glaring at anyone who dares to take your attention off of him for more than twelve seconds. but, hey, you know what you like. you agreed to date him in the first place, after all
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but Iâd like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where itâs like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik itâs a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
lotus
while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.
CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.
"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.
Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.
"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."
That piqued Logan's interest.
With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library dutyâwatching the kids during their scheduled study period.
Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.
And he was halfway there, too.
But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.
"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.
One you were very vocal about liking.
"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"
Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.
But maybe she just hated you that much...
"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."
"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"
"Seriously?!"
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.
He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.
Oh, how wrong he was...
He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.
"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."
"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."
Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.
"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."
That was it.
All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'dâalbeit reluctantlyâlet slide.
But calling you out of your name?
Insulting your character?
Comparing you to a dog?
A line had to be drawn.
"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and sayâ"
"Say what?"
The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.
They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.
"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."
The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.
"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."
Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.
"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."
He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.
"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"
They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.
"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."
"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.
"'Til I tell you you're not."
The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.
"Now get outta here."
He had never seen two students pack up so fast.
They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.
He could've tore into them infinitely worseâand he honestly wanted to for that dog commentâbut he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.
But even still...
'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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TWO WORLDS â p.sunghoon
PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader GENRES: angst, smut, slight fluff WC: 7.6k+
WARNINGS:Â some swearing, alcohol consumption, controlling father, a little argument. sex on the kitchen worktop, quick female masturbation, unprotected sex (pack before use, and do it safely!!!), cumming inside, sunghoon is too soft for now, i think that's it. lmk if i missed anything.
SYNOPSIS: you and sunghoon have known each other since university, but you belong to different worlds. that wouldn't be a factor that would prevent you and him from getting together, if it weren't for the fear of confessing to each other and, when that happened, you wouldn't be able to tell him that you were going away⌠to another country.
NOTES:Â i went through so many plots until i ended up with this one. it was my work after more than a month of writer's block, so i can't say if i'm satisfied with it or not. but at least it helped me write something. all feedback is appreciated, so i hope you like it!
part 2 | masterlist
You thought it would be a good idea to go into the bar even though you had cried for countless hours before being there. Hesitating in that particular place wasn't something new for you, after all, it was where your friends met every Friday night.
You just happened to be there alone and in the middle of a Wednesday. The stress of your daily life and the weight you were carrying for fulfilling the wishes of your self-centered and petty father only made your mind spin and you succumbed to an absurd urge to drop everything and run. And you ran to the bar you knew so well. But not because you needed a drink urgently â although you knew the alcohol would be consumed somehow â but because someone there was your refuge at times like these.
Park Sunghoon was the owner of the best-known and most popular bar. Because he was the epitome of beauty, kind, and polite even in a sea of people who were completely drunk and came to that place looking to dance, rub themselves, and wind up with someone. But he was also known as your best friend since university and the guy who stole your heart.
It was hard not to fall in love with Sunghoon when he treated you so well from the moment you and he shared a few classes. When he brought you a steaming cup of coffee twice a week from his grandfather's coffee shop because you'd been there once and said you liked it. How did he remember that? You wondered every time you took a sip of the drink. But Sunghoon only thought, how could he forget?
All the details surrounding you were hard to forget and he came to realize that this was part of the little feeling that was going on between the two of you, even though Sunghoon was afraid to ask you out. Not because it would ruin the friendship, he was very forward-thinking and knew that neither you nor he would be able to do that because it was something beyond what the two of you shared. But because the worlds in which you and he lived were completely different.
You were studying to improve your knowledge and take over your father's company. You wore social clothes, high heels, and the most expensive imported perfumes so that you could meet your father's clients, who would be yours in the future, while you drank expensive wine and listened to banal conversations. At the same time, Sunghoon studied to understand how the corporate world worked, and business and to be able to take over his grandfather's coffee shop. When he passed away, he left it in his name and turned it into the bar it is today. Wearing shabby clothes, torn jeans, and blouses stained with all kinds of drink and food that he had already lost count of.
The coffee shop would have been very welcome if he was still a university student looking for a part-time job just to make some extra money, but with the end of university and a life full of bills and supporting himself, a bar would make a lot more money because he was now an adult. And adults liked alcohol, loud music, and a lot of flirting.
That's what he thought when he changed everything, from the paintings on the wall to the name of the establishment. His best friends became his partners to help run the bar and that's what helped him get a bit more of a head start on sales and popularity. Because they were well-known people at the university, and with Sunghoon being part of the soccer team and the popular kids, this consequently attracted many people who studied with them to become regular customers there.
You and your friends were one of them. Although you also liked to go to see Sunghoon and his best friends who were also your friends. That's why Fridays became a casual get-together for your group of friends.
But it wasn't today and that made you a little more apprehensive and tearful because it was the first time you'd been to the bar alone. You didn't go in with a friend or one of the boys waiting at the door to take you to the table they'd booked for the night.
Your steps were dragged and nervous as you passed people, bodies sweaty and dancing. Loud conversations as you heard someone cursing a soccer team from last night, another group of friends talking about kissing someone at the next table. You focused on every corner even though you didn't want to focus on anything and just went to the bar, lucky if any of the boys were there.
As soon as you finally got close, a few more steps and you'd be near the counter, but not before stopping and taking a look. Quickly sniffling to try to keep away the tears that were still collecting in your eyes because you didn't want any of your friends to see you cry. If you were lucky, the light in the bar would be so dark that it would camouflage your true face and you could make up an excuse and say that you just stopped by to say hello because you were nearby.
Your hands were hesitant as soon as you touched the counter in the empty space when a couple walked away after picking up their drinks and heading for the dance floor.
"Hello, welcome. What can I doâ" Jay was one of Sunghoon's best friends and very much your friend too, not least because he was your best friend's boyfriend "Y/n?" his eyebrows arched in surprise and a small smile appeared on his lips as soon as he saw you.
"Hi, Jay" you tried your best not to sound shaky, although you knew that the volume of the music would mask your true feelings.
"What are you doing here?" he looked at you and then around "Is Stella or the girls with you?"
"No, no. I came alone" you pulled up a stool to sit down, your hands resting on the marble of the counter and your eyes darting to the numerous bottles behind Jay before you focused your gaze on him.
"Did you come for a drink?" he followed your gaze as you turned away momentarily, noticing that you were staring at the whisky bottles. After turning back to you, Jay sighed when you nodded slightly "On a Wednesday?"
"Are you monitoring me, Jongseong?"
"Ugh, I hate it when you all call me that, you sound like you're mad" he snapped and walked over to the side of the whisky bottles. Pulling out a bottle and a shot glass, Jay slid it in front of him and filled some of the contents.
Your eyes flicked to the label, slowly reading Hennessy. The brand was known to you, it was one of the whiskies your father used to drink. Feeling the burning sensation he supposedly felt every time he drank made you shiver, not from the alcohol itself, but from thinking about your father at that moment.
"Thank you" you said to Jay as soon as he held out the glass to you. A small smile captured his lips as you turned the glass over in one go.
"For God's sake, Y/n, take it easy" he warned "If you're having a bad day, this will only get worse."
"One more, please" you tried to ignore his caution. Jay just rolled his eyes and took the empty glass from your hand, filling it much less than the first shot.
Then the second, third, and fourth he didn't even want to say much. Although he had already put a glass of water in with the glass of whisky he had poured for you. Jay's silent request is for you to have at least a little more water next time.
You could protest and grumble at how overprotective he was, remembering how he was with Stella in the first place. Then with you and your other friends because, according to Jay, anyone who looked after his girlfriend also deserved to be looked after. That's why he was so protective and nice to you.
But this overprotection was nothing compared to Sunghoon's with you, and for a second your mind switched off from the fact that he could be there and would show up at any moment. You just didn't realize that it would be abruptly, knocking the glass out of your hand and slamming it against the counter.
"You've had too much to drink" didn't take a genius or being drunk enough to register Sunghoon's voice entering your ears. You only refused to turn towards him, but you felt the boy's presence right behind you.
"I think I'm a customer here today, so Jay, please" you ignored the fact that the glass was next to Sunghoon's hand and pulled it out to hand it to Jay.
You couldn't register his expression when he saw you pick up the glass, because your body was turned just in time along with the stool you were sitting on. Facing Sunghoon, who lowered himself to the level of your face.
"You're going home, right? I'll drive you" he said.
"Nope" you muttered back.
"We're not having this conversation here, Y/n."
"And nowhere else" your pout almost made him give in and lean forward to kiss you, but Sunghoon held back, his hands squeezing the upholstery of the seat you were sitting on and slowly rubbing the side of his thumbs against your leg.
He opened his mouth to say more, to force you out of there, or to make fun of the fact that he had been watching you for a while as you drank and talked to Jay while he served other people at the bar. He wanted to tell you more, to say that his heart was racing with worry because you were never one to drink like that and it was strange to see you so resistant. But all his words fell flat when Sunghoon looked deep into your eyes and saw you crumble.
You let the tears fall freely down your cheeks and the urge to sniffle and sob that you'd been holding in all night now surfaced when he wrapped his arms around you to hold you against his chest.
"Jay, you can take over here, right?" he asked.
"Sure, go ahead, mate" Jay said "Call me if you need anything, me and the boys will lock up here and run to you two."
You could imagine the sad smile Jay was giving Sunghoon to try and comfort him as he lifted you off the bar stool and walked with you through all those drunk people until he left. Still holding you against him for fear that someone might touch you or that you might disappear from his sight, Sunghoon didn't want anything to happen to you.
"Did you come by car?" he asked when the two of you arrived outside. The icy wind didn't even tickle your body because you were so immersed in Sunghoon's arms that you couldn't feel anything.
Pointing in the direction of the parking lot, he pulled you along with him until he was able to locate your car without too much effort.
"I need your keys" he asked, releasing your arms to turn towards you and look at you straight on.
Noticing every little feature of you since you'd arrived at the bar. The office clothes hugged your curves, and every piece of clothing looked great on you. The combinations of turquoise and gray further enhanced your beauty and every feature that Sunghoon had fallen in love with.
"No purse?"
"In the car" you said in a tearful voice, reaching for the keys in the back pocket of the pants you were wearing to hand them to him.
Sunghoon took them and unlocked the alarm for you both to get in, holding the passenger door for you until you sat down and he could close the door. Running to the driver's side and getting in too.
If it had been any other time, that silence between the two of you would have been comfortable and just what you needed amid so much confusion in your week. But it was killing you because you knew that Sunghoon looked furious. Maybe at you, you didn't know for sure, but you shrugged when you felt the tears still falling down your cheeks.
"I'm sorry" you whispered as quietly as you could, breaking the silence inside the car, which was still at a complete standstill.
The only sound coming from Sunghoon's lips were the interspersed sighs he gave, running his hands over his face and then through his hair countless times. Well, your apology shouldn't be accepted, after all, because on another occasion he would say that you didn't need to apologize. That it wasn't your fault or anything to comfort you. But Sunghoon wasn't saying anything and that made you cry even more.
You turned your face towards him to see if there was any glimmer of comfort or something you could cling to so that he wouldn't feel that way. Your eyes traveled down his figure, noticing the contrast in clothing the two of you were wearing. Sunghoon was wearing a beige shirt with a huge stain near the sleeve, probably a drink that some customer had knocked over or that he or the boys had made at the bar. There was a small tear in the collar and it was halfway down his hip. Sunghoon's torn and worn jeans gave the outfit a total charm and it made you smile through your tears because it was so characteristic of him.
"SunghoonâŚ" you decided to call him after you didn't get an answer from him, earning you his gaze straight away.
Sunghoon's brow furrowed at the sight of you crying next to him and his heart squeezed even tighter because he didn't know how to act in the face of so much worry and nervousness. He had seen you cry many times before, but what had gotten into him to act like that? Why was he being so rude when all you had done was go to his bar to drink and cry? Something was happening and he needed to act, but he wasn't thinking straight.
So he didn't think much of it either when he turned and raised his hands to hold your face, bringing your face close to his and leaning his forehead against yours. That act in itself was something between you and him beyond intimacy. Something the two of you shared, in a mute attempt to convey the will to go further. To break through that barrier to touch lips and kiss. But neither you nor Sunghoon had ever done that.
His thumbs brushed against your cheek, the delicate touch contrasting with the roughness of Sunghoon's skin against yours. His breath hitched against your trembling lips and you almost asked him to go further, but you held back.
"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, in a whisper. His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks and you let out a shaky sigh at the question.
"I don't want to set foot in that place any time soon" you said.
Opening your eyes to find Sunghoon's gaze already on you, your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when he looked directly at your lips. But just as quickly as he did this, he managed to look away and back at you properly.
"So I'm spending the night in your apartment" he kissed your forehead, lingering his lips against your skin before pulling away and straightening up in the driver's seat "You need to tell me why you showed up here at the bar on a Wednesday, crying."
"And you'll need to tell me why you fought with me today" you pouted, hearing him laugh for the first time since you met that night.
Sunghoon agreed, starting the car's engine to get out of there and head straight to his apartment.
Staying up late talking about what had caused all this was the right thing to do, even if your body was begging for some sleep after a long hot bath. You remember telling Sunghoon that it was trouble with your father, as usual. The way the man wanted to control your life in the worst possible way, not content with having decided your future, he wanted to decide anything else that involved you.
But the subject was cut off there, you didn't want to tell your best friend that the real reason you were crying wasn't even your father's control over your life and his idiotic hunches, but that in a few weeks, you wouldn't be here anymore. You would no longer live in this country and, worst of all, you would no longer see Sunghoon. That was better left unsaid as you fell asleep in his arms, preventing him from leaving your bed after hearing all your wails, promising that you wouldn't cry about it anymore.
Even though it was hard to think that you would no longer be close to him. That, in all this time, you hadn't even managed to declare yourself or hear a statement from him. So now being in another country, with unrequited love â or so you both thought â couldn't be worse.
Either that or the little hangover that took over your body as soon as dawn broke and you opened your eyes. The slight difficulty in keeping them open when you groped around and didn't feel Sunghoon's warm body anywhere. Had he already left, then? Or had he decided to sleep in the guest room in the middle of the night? This last option is ruled out because you remember turning over a few times in the early hours of the morning or stirring in your sleep and feeling his arms around you. It was one of the times he slept in the same bed as you, doing so only when your friends went to sleep in your apartment and used the other two spare bedrooms. This was done more often than you thought, but it wasn't so important to think about it now.
Sitting up in bed after much pondering, you felt your head spin a little and your eyes finally open. Contemplating the moment when you should have been at your father's company â which would soon be yours â but here you were, in your apartment after a wave of hangover hit on a Thursday morning. It wasn't that bad, you remember doing it a few times while you were at college. The only difference was that the place would be full of university students, your friends who were supposed to meet up at the bar on Friday. But one of them was certainly there in your apartment at that moment, and you realized it as soon as you got out of bed to walk out of the room.
The smell of food invaded your nostrils as you walked down the corridor to the top of the stairs. Noises of cutlery and frying and an undeniable smell of coffee pulled you further and further into the kitchen of your apartment. Sunghoon was unbelievable and you knew he would do anything to see you well. You just didn't know that he would prepare an entire breakfast when the scene in front of you said so.
"Good morning" he smiled at you when he saw you leaning against the doorframe, sleepy and even more beautiful than he remembered.
Your smile soon followed and you almost fell back when your eyes finally caught up with him. He had slept without his shirt on, but seeing him like that right in front of you was too much. Sunghoon was wearing sweatpants belonging to Jake, who always left his or Jay's clothes at your apartment every time he went there with you, Stella, and his girlfriend. Sunghoon also had a few pieces here and there, but Jake's pants were the first he'd found the night before, so putting them on quickly to wrap you in a hug was the only thing he could think of at the moment.
"Good morning" you decided, pushing aside any thoughts and smiling at him, approaching in slow steps the slender, gorgeous guy who was preparing a mug of coffee "Is that for me?"
He hummed excitedly, putting a few things into the mug before turning and handing it to you.
"I found some things in your cupboard and I think I may have managed to replicate my grandfather's coffee, the one we had at university."
"Don't play games with me" you pouted as you picked up the mug "Are you serious?"
He leaned down to touch his lips to the top of your head, sniffing your hair and smelling the shampoo on your strands.
"You tell me" Sunghoon moved away to finish making the pancakes and arrange the bacon and eggs on the table on the other side of the counter, where he turned around and walked away from you.
Your eyes captured the whole moment as he took a long sip of coffee. It was just like his grandfather's, perhaps with a little more cinnamon and a hint of vanilla that you felt as the liquid went down your throat. It might have been Sunghoon's style, but the essence was completely his grandfather's from what you remembered from university. Smiling at this, you watched him set up the whole breakfast game while humming some tune you couldn't identify because your brain was focusing on his every move. The muscles flexed as he bent over to arrange the plates, or how his brow furrowed as he balanced the juice container on the table.
You didn't want to feel your heart squeeze at that scene because Sunghoon had already done it a few times. For both you and your friends, it was normal to see him excited about making breakfast or being so domestic. But it wasn't normal for you to feel like you might explode, that you needed to tell him that in a few weeks, you'd both be far enough apart that he'd â maybe â even forget about you.
"Hey, Y/n" his voice was desperate and snapped you out of your thoughts when you noticed him running away from where you were to come towards you. You only realized you were crying when he took the mug from your hand and ran his fingers down your cheek, collecting your freshly fallen tears "What happened? Did I do something wrong or�"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong" you sobbed quietly, your hands encircling his fists as Sunghoon held your face between them.
"So what happened?" he asked. "Is there something else bothering you?"
Yes. I'm practically moving out and we won't see each other for who knows how long. You choked on that thought as you looked into his eyes, the concern evident and the glint that adorned the dark orbs that you admired so much.
Your thoughts were consuming you as Sunghoon leaned towards you, trying to listen or hoping that words would come out of your mouth so that he could understand what was happening to you. In his mind, something at breakfast or the night before was completely wrong.
He may have overstepped the mark when he held you while you slept, keeping you close to his body the whole time. Or that he went through your kitchen and prepared a huge breakfast on a weekday when you were supposed to be in your office and you were here with him. But that didn't make sense and he just wanted to think that you were vulnerable from having bad times with your father and the weight on your back from trying to please him at all costs.
Sunghoon understood how burdened you were by this how much you disliked what you had and how your relationship with your father was, he understood from the moment you two met. That's what made you fall in love with him because he always understood you. And he fell in love with you because he saw you beyond any designer clothes you wore or jewelry your father gave you to put around your neck. He saw your eyes, your smile, he saw you for real.
And he was seeing it now, in front of him in your kitchen, and as your tears slowly dried until you stopped crying. Sunghoon thought about asking you again what had happened or if you wanted him to leave so you could be alone, but it was his turn to have his mind flooded with nothing but you when he felt your lips on his.
Suddenly, without any pretext, you simply leaned forward and kissed him.
Sunghoon's hands ran to your waist and pulled you against his body, afraid that this was his mind betraying him, or that he was daydreaming about your lips against his. But as soon as you whimpered softly to ask for permission to kiss him, he knew he wasn't dreaming.
Tongues soon intertwined and the taste of coffee in your mouth quickly passed into his mouth, making Sunghoon moan softly as he pressed you between his body and the kitchen counter. It was a repressed feeling since the time you two discovered such feelings and that you held onto until the present moment. If he had known that kissing you would be like this, that your mouth would fit perfectly on his, and that you would have the sweetest breath against his lips, Sunghoon would have kissed you much sooner. He would have taken advantage of every opportunity he had around you, your mouth, or the moments when you two almost kissed by accident. He should have done all this before because it was heavenly to feel your mouth move against his.
It was all too much and the way you were making him feel, but when your nails slid to the back of his neck, sanity had long since left Sunghoon's body. He slid his hands down your thighs and supported your body to place you sitting on the kitchen counter. The icy marble on your thighs and half of your ass where the shorts couldn't cover, you moaned against his mouth and leaned your body forward with a shiver running through you. Your chest pressed against his and Sunghoon fit between your legs, as little space as possible between the two of you.
Pulling away after a long while, he rolled his eyes to your lips to notice a thin layer of saliva and the redness of your bottom lip. Swollen and all beautiful while he wasn't much different. Your chest rose and fell to normalize your breathing and he kept his hands resting on the counter beside each of your thighs.
âY/nâ he called your name, voice hoarse like a plea for you to keep him between your legs even after the kiss was over.
"Yeah?" you answered him, hands running down his chest and feeling Sunghoon's heart speed up under your fingers when your hand stopped there. Your eyes stared into his as your legs pressed against Sunghoon's ass to press him between your legs.
âShitâ he moaned as the growing erection pressed between your legs, the heat of your still-covered pussy making him shudder.
Quickly Sunghoon's hands slid down your thighs and went to the waistband of your pajama shorts, grabbing the fabric without taking it out of place. You tightened your legs around his waist again and at that moment you saw him gain courage and roll your hips against his. Sunghoonâs dick was rock hard and you couldnât hold back your moan as the perfect movement made the head of his dick press against your swollen clit. The wonderful friction of dry fucking as he alternated his hips between rolling and going back and forth, only to be able to draw moans from your lips each time his dick got the perfect pressure on your pussy.
âSunghoonâ you moaned his name, hands moving down from his chest to his stomach slowly. The nail scratched all the way down forming a red trail against the white skin in front of you. You stopped with your fingers on the waistband of the pants he was wearing, swallowing hard when his hand on the waistband of your shorts went down.
"Yes, my love?" he whispered. So deep making your pussy clench around nothing, and it was pathetic how you felt like this while he had barely touched you.
âCan youââ your voice hitched, your eyes closed quickly when Sunghoon's fingers entered your shorts and panties, going straight to your wet clit.
His moan made you moan too, combined with the pressure of his fingertips rubbing circles on your muscles in need of attention. It felt so good not to have to ask him for much, knowing that the impulse to kiss him was making you do this kind of thing that you didn't even know would happen. Much less him.
Feeling like you had kissed him was something Sunghoon never thought would happen, especially since you were always shyer than him. All the advances and physical contact between the two of you came from him, so he thought that, if one day there was a kiss between you and him, he would definitely make the first move. But since it hadn't happened, Sunghoon was left to enjoy that moment because he knew he was giving himself as much as you.
You could no longer hold back the desire he had to have you in his arms, at his fingertips, wrapped around his dick. Sunghoon wanted to feel you.
"That is good?" he asked as he ran his fingers down your pussy lips, parting them with the obscene sound of your wetness spreading. You would be embarrassed just to hear it, but you no longer cared as his fingers worked wonders on your pussy.
âThat feels wonderfulâ you moaned as he circled his index finger around your entrance, feeling like you had clenched around nothing. As impatient as he is.
With a movement away, you almost cried when you no longer felt Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy. Almost grabbing him back and shoving his hand where you needed him most. But everything calmed down when you saw that he was grabbing your shorts and panties, asking you to lift your hips so he could remove what was getting in the way.
Soon the pieces of clothing were on the floor and you thanked the gods for being free down there, with his hand returning to surround your clit in circular movements. Sunghoon's nimble and skilled fingers made small drawings on your pussy while his other hand went up to your face and held it. Cupped between your cheek and neck so that he kept your face close to his while the fingers in your pussy were slid to your entrance.
âDonât hide your sounds from me, okay?â he asked as he introduced two fingers at once, watching you bite your bottom lip hard. Sunghoon smiled when you opened your eyes to look at him, nodding as you let your moans come out freely.
The stretch of your pussy felt divine to him, his fingers covered in arousal and your walls clenching so deliciously as he went deeper with slow movements. Not because he wanted to torture you, but because he was taking his time as he felt you getting wetter and wetter so he could take his cock.
Meanwhile, his hands reached down with difficulty to the waistband of the pants he wore to sleep, pushing it down just to free the head of his dick. Because you didn't have enough strength to continue the work since Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy took away any concentration you had. He chuckled softly at your snort of displeasure at not getting what he wanted to do, then he leaned in to kiss your lips.
A tender, slow, and affectionate kiss. With your tongues moving against each other romantically, silently conveying that you two loved each other, even if it was never said in the first place.
Sunghoon removed his fingers from your pussy with a pornographic pop due to the amount of juices coming out of there. He took the opportunity to lower his pants to his feet and use his fingers, wet with your essence, to wrap around the head of his dick and smear it along with the precum that came out of there. That scene could be worth any orgasm he had as you watched him slowly masturbate in front of you, with his finger full of you and his precum. This was making you so hot that you decided to take off your pajama shirt, now matching his nudity.
You pulled him by the back of his head and kissed him. Wanting to occupy your mouth or something other than focusing on his dick that was already throbbing to be inside you, soon feeling him pull you closer to the edge of the kitchen counter and feeling his dick against your thigh.
âLet me know if itâs too much, okay?â he asked gently against your lips, you sighed softly and agreed, whispering a slow âyesâ to him.
As if he already knew your body, Sunghoon was precise in positioning the head of his dick in your pussy and sliding it from your clit, the soaked lips, and your entrance. Collecting even more of your juices until the head of his cock was in your hole. Slowly entering your pussy with almost stopping movements, just so that you felt comfortable each time he moved inside you to penetrate a little more.
Your nails scratched every inch of his skin that was visible and touchable to you, and he smiled, satisfied, knowing that those marks would remain on his skin for a long time. Not that it was a bother because Sunghoon would happily tell anyone who asked that it was his girl who had done it.
âFuckâ you grunted as his pelvis finally slammed against yours, his dick completely inside you. Big and throbbing, touching your spongy part in a slow movement that he made as he started to pull out and re-enter your pussy.
âAre youââ he moaned âFuck, Y/nâ Sunghoonâs lips found yours again.
Your hot pussy sucking his cock was the best feeling Sunghoon could have felt in his life. It was as if your pussy had molded itself to him in just a few seconds while he was inside you, no longer wanting to come out.
âYou can move now, Hoonieâ calling him that nickname always made something in Sunghoon light up, but the way you whimpered and then moaned, made Sunghoon's hips slam hard against yours.
He would even apologize for how careless he was in fucking you like that because he wanted to take it slow and take his time. He wanted to enjoy every movement, but the excitement of hearing you call him made something click in him.
Responding to your requests, Sunghoon began to move between your legs. His cock moved in and out slowly but hit you hard every time his pelvis met yours. The sound of skin slapping together, accompanied by the moans you two shared was the soundtrack of that kitchen. Sunghoon went back to cupping your face in his hands, cupping each side of your cheek to keep your face in place as he fucked your hips against his. Your legs wrapped around him pressing your thighs against his waist to press him further as he bottomed out, his cock reaching your cervix with each hard thrust until the end.
âYou feel so good, loveâ he moaned close to your mouth, his gaze falling between your bodies to see his cock being swallowed by your pussy. The white ring of his excitement wetting his dick to his pelvis when he got close to your pussy.
The lazy smile he gave you when he looked back at you, his face fucked up and his eyes focused on his every move.
âHoonieâ you called him.
"Yes, love?" he leaned in, mouth brushing against his and hip movements never stopping as he tried to hear what you had to say.
It could be the horniness taking over you, or the need to say it because you didn't know when you would have another opportunity. And if it would have. He could run away and never see you again, but you would need to take that chance while you were being fucked by him in your kitchen.
Your hands reached for his hands on your face, sliding one of them along the prominent veins on Sunghoon's forearm. He sighed softly at the touch, smiling against your mouth.
âI'm in love with youâ your voice followed by a loud moan as he slammed his hips against yours, his cock entering your pussy completely.
The action itself was a shock because he wasn't expecting it. Maybe hearing you say that he was doing great, that his cock was something amazing, or something related to the sex you two were sharing. But never something he looked forward to hearing, not when his dick was buried inside your pussy.
Sunghoon slowed down the pace of his thrusts, remaining with his hands on your face before taking your lips in a slow kiss, sucking the tip of your tongue to your lower lip.
âI've always wanted to hear thatâ he sighed breathlessly, one of his thumbs going down to your bottom lip and pressing there âBecause I've been in love with you since we met, Y/n.â
It would be romantically beautiful if he didn't have his hair disheveled, sweaty, and plastered to his forehead. And if you weren't oozing excitement from your pussy onto the kitchen counter and his dick if your body wasn't on the verge of exploding. But no matter how you and him were, hearing that made things a little better for you.
âThen show meâ you whispered âMake me cum on your cock.â
He just nodded without having the courage to contradict you or say how sexy you were commanding him like that. Because Sunghoon also wanted to cum and it wasn't much different from you.
Returning the ministrations of your hips against his and burying his cock in you, he accelerated the pace of his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping filled the kitchen again. His cock buried itself deeper and deeper into your pussy and soaked between your thighs and his abdomen each time he went even deeper into you.
Sunghoon pressed his thumb again on your lower lip, collecting some of your saliva so he could wet his finger and go down to your clit. Spreading your saliva there to stimulate the neglected muscle as he fucked his dick inside you.
âCome for me then, love. I want to hear you moan my nameâ he whispered close to your ear, sliding his mouth down your neck and biting the place eagerly.
Teeth dug into your skin as he sped up his thrusts as he felt his cock pulse inside you and your pussy squeeze him against its walls. Sunghoon could scream right then and there when he felt you contract around him, moaning his name as he asked and writhing on the kitchen counter. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a way to balance himself, taking possession of the man who fucked you so good and squeezed your clit until he extracted the last drop of your cum.
âI want you to cum inside meâ you whispered close to his ear, taking advantage of the fact that Sunghoonâs lips were still on your neck âPlease, Hoonie.â
You could be a huge motherfucker and he had never seen that side of you until now. But it also wasn't complaining that you were like that with him, on the contrary. It was great to see this side of you from the angle and position he was in.
Sunghoon gave a few more thrusts into your convulsing and overstimulated pussy, going deep with his dick until jets of cum painted each of your walls white, feeling the heat take over your pussy as he slid his dick inside you. Pulsating and incredibly skilled, pushing harder and harder until he stopped cumming inside you.
He was stunned and panting, teeth sliding across your skin and a hickey left in place before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. Still keeping his cock inside you to have the heat of your pussy envelop him a little more.
âYouâŚâ he started saying, clearing his throat when he felt it dry. You knew what he was going to say, trying not to show any sadness and just focusing on the moment he was having. âYou really meant that, didnât you?â
âAbout being in love with you?â you asked, seeing him agree with a shy nod. As if he didnât still have his dick inside you and had fucked you just a few minutes ago âOf course I do.â
âGoodâ Sunghoon smiled at you, kissing your lips to get out of your pussy and prevent you both from moaning loudly at the feeling of each otherâs emptiness âNow letâs clean ourselves up, shall we?â
It was your turn to agree, accepting his help to get off the counter and go to your room.
You didnât want to say anything to him about not seeing each other anymore or about how you were leaving. Many possibilities were running around your mind and you thought of something that might work. But none of them were involved in facing Sunghoon face to face after today.
"A letter? Who would send that nowadays?â Sunghoon laughed as he took the envelope from Jay's hand, rolling his eyes and pulling out a chair to sit down.
It was close to lunch and the bar wasn't even close to opening, but he and his best friends always went at that time to have lunch together and clean the bar before the night was full of the customers they always used to come to.
It was Friday and he was excited because he knew he would spend time with his friends and, more than that, he would spend his time with you. He would finally have you with him after telling you he was in love with you and hearing that you were in love with him back. Sunghoon could have sworn this was all a dream because less than two days ago he heard it, waiting for a long time since college.
But if all the waiting was made up for with the sex you two had in the kitchen, then continued in the bedroom and ended up in the bathroom of your apartment, he would be completely happy with having waited so long.
âOpen it already, dudeâ Jay whined âOr Iâll do it and read it out loud.â
Sunghoon denied all of Jay's theatrics and rolled his eyes, opening the envelope that had no sender, only the recipient. He sighed as he unfolded the paper inside.
âItâs a letter from Y/nâ he smiled at the paper when he recognized your handwriting.
Jay also smiled, remembering the day before when he received Sunghoon's call after he left your house. Telling everything that had happened, maybe omitting some details so it wouldn't be so embarrassing for Jay, but he still wanted to tell about the small statement. About how he saw the sparkle in his eyes when he heard that you were in love with him and how you shivered in his arms when he heard that it was reciprocal.
But also, how could it not? Sunghoon would be crazy if he wasn't in love with you back. He would call himself every name possible for not realizing how amazing you were and how passionate you were too.
As he read that letter, the smile disappeared and Jay did the same, not understanding why Sunghoon seemed so apprehensive reading something you had sent him. Not after the time the two of you shared.
âHey, dudeâ Jay called him, but all Sunghoon did was crumple up that paper and throw it on the table.
Leaving without saying a single word he rolled up the bar door and disappeared from there.
âWhat happened to him?â Heeseung appeared next, startled by the noise the door made as soon as Sunghoon left.
Jay was just as confused as he was, not wanting to invade his friend's privacy, but he was worried and knew that Sunghoon or Heeseung would do the same for him if they saw him like that. So the boy did the most sensible thing, which was to crumple the paper to read the letter you had written to Sunghoon.
His eyes widened with each word before reading specific things you had written, one of them being the reason why Sunghoon had left there like that.
Maybe it was our last moment together because, in a few weeks, I'm moving to Switzerland. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just⌠I was scared.
Jay put the pieces together little by little. So that was the reason that made you go to the bar crying on Wednesday, you were moving to Switzerland. And you would lose Sunghoon one way or another because you certainly had your father's hand in this decision, which certainly wasn't his.
Now all that was left was to know what the boy would do with this information, because the way Sunghoon left that bar, he hadn't taken the news very well.
Š ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen sunghoon#enha smut#sunghoon angst#enhypen angst#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#enhypen masterlist#enhypen imagines#bay writes.
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10 Generations. 10 Different Heroines. 1 Legacy. Welcome to the Literary Heroine Legacy Challenge! Iâve been itching for a good legacy to revive my love for the Sims 4, and I havenât found one so I wrote one myself. I was inspired after reading Emmaâ the family dynamics, drama, and romance were everything I ever wanted in a Sims challenge. So I modernized the stories and adapted them to fit this game. Special shoutout to Designergirl81, who I met through MissLollypopSimsâ Discord! The generations of Anne of Avonlea and Dorothy were their brainchildren. đ I designed each generation to reference a famous literary heroine. This is a very story-oriented challenge but feel free to bend, tweak, and change as much as you can! Sims Challenges arenât meant to limit your fun. đ TL;DR: Play your own way while letting these rules guide your storytelling! The official tag of the challenge is #TheLiteraryHeroineChallengeTS4. Have fun! Check out the rules here or keep reading!
Basic Rules
Play on any life span you want but I recommend playing on Normal life span.
You are encouraged to play with female heirs. Of course, this is optional!
You are discouraged from using money cheats. Some generations have stories that are related to their social classâ so try to stay true to the story as much as you can.
You can live wherever you want unless the generation states otherwise.
Feel free to customize each generationâs race and sexual orientation
Unless specifically stated, each generation has to finish their aspiration and career.
Even if most of these books are classics, I wrote this with a more modern take on it. You donât need any mods or CC to fit the erasâ aestheticsâ but if you want to, you totally can!
â means thereâs a recommended mod for this!
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 1: Elizabeth Bennett đ Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to play you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart. đ
It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that all Sims 4 challenges must start with an heir. In this case, thatâs you, which is surprising because everyone else in your life has decided that you are plain, especially when compared to your other two sisters. Lately though, you start to sense that youâve been getting more attention from your neighbors. One particular Sim hasnât been able to leave you and your family alone⌠and you donât like them at all, not one bit. Well⌠maybe just a bit.
Aspiration: Successful LineageÂ
Traits: Family Oriented, Hot-Headed, Bookworm OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Journalist
â Master the Writing skill. â Live in a rundown family home passed down by your parents with two sisters until you are married. â Have a negative relationship with a neighbor. â Reject a proposal from your work boyfriend. â Build a relationship with your neighbor after you reject the proposal of your ex. â Have a scandal involving one of your sisters that your neighbor supports you through. â Fall in love and marry this neighbor then move in with him. â Have two children.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 2: Emma Woodhouse đ  It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble. đ
Growing up, you were always the sheltered one. Your father was very protective of you, and therefore never let you out of his sight. Of course, that didnât stop you from becoming well-loved by the entire town. You were known for throwing the best dinner parties and befriending everyone your father and mother knew. Needless to say, this got to your head a bit. You werenât arrogant, you were confident. In everyoneâs eyes, you could do no wrong. Well, everyone except your childhood best friendâ who was never afraid to call you out for being a bit clueless at times.Â
Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante OR Party Animal
Traits: Self-Assured, High Maintenance, Music-Lover OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Romance Consultant or Lawyer
â Master the Charisma and Piano skills. â Host at least 5 gold-star dinners. â Have a childhood best friend whoâs a bit older than you. For example: When youâre 17 (end of teenage years), theyâre already 20 (start of young adult years). * â You canât have good friends who are your age until your childhood best friend ages up into a young adult. â Make a new friend that you treat like a âprojectâ until you two fall out. Choose if you two will reconcile in the future. â Profess your love to your childhood best friend during a heated argument. â Marry your best friend and live with your mother and father in your childhood home until your parents die. Have one child. *It goes without saying to only get with your childhood best friend when the two sims are both young adults đ No super uncomfortable age gaps, please.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 3: Scarlett OâHara ⨠âTomorrow, Iâll think of some way to get him back.â ⨠All your life, you grew up spoiled. Your mother and father were so in love, and you almost expected to have a story as romantic and easy as theirs. However, when your high school flame elopes quickly with someone else right after graduation, you start to spiral. No longer able to get things your way, you begin to self-sabotage and jump from relationship to relationship. Deep down you know you should stop and smarten up but frankly, my dear, you donât give a damn.
Aspiration: Soulmateâ you fail thisÂ
Traits: Materialistic, Genius, Jealous OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: None until your divorce then become a Manual Laborer + Barista
â Recommended Mods: Healthcare Redux Mod, Extreme Violence Mod
â Donât master any skill. â Have a high school flame who elopes with someone else. â Elope immediately with someone else. Have them die tragically.* â Marry another person quickly who you have bad compatibility with. Get negative romance with them right before they pass.* â Marry a third time. Have them catch you in a compromising moment with your high school flame, which leads to a divorce that leaves you with nothing. â End up working two part time jobs to keep your household running. â Have 4 kids with your 3 husbands (you can cheat for twins, if you want). *You decide how they die. I recommended having mods like the Healthcare Redux and Extreme Violence in your game for realistic roleplay reasonsâ but if he gets tragically eaten by a Cowplant that works too! đ
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 4: Jo March 𧞠âWhen the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.â 𧞠Growing up was not easy for you. Your childhood was incredibly unpredictable with your mother jumping from relationship-to-relationship. And when things started to stabilize emotionally, you ended up in poverty. Luckily, you had your siblings to cling to, and a passion for writing thatâs unmatched. You wrote a ton of things across different genres, except for romance which you didnât quite understand. In fact, everyone always expected you to be a little woman, not rough or wild, but you knew in your heart thatâs not what you were destined to become.
Aspiration: Best-Selling Author
Traits: Creative, Unflirty, and Ambitious OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Author
â Recommended Mods: Writing Career Overhaul, SNB Banking
â Master the Writing and Logic skills. â Be best friends with all of your siblings. â Start selling short stories as a teenager to help pay the bills. â Get a best friend in high school who professes their love to you during graduation. Turn them down. Optional: Have them marry one of your other siblings. â Move away to the city to focus on your writing. Always send 30% of your income to your mother until she dies. â Due to a tragedy in the family, adopt a child of one of your siblings.* â Win a Starlight Accolade for one of your novels. â Never marry but live a fulfilling life. *They are to be the next heir to preserve the bloodline. You can adopt more if you want.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 5: Anne Shirley đ âI believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.â đ You were adopted by your aunt and lived a happy childhood. Despite being surrounded by family drama, you never let it dampen your spirit. You struggled with social cues and caused mayhem wherever you wentâ of course, that never stopped you from making your voice heard. You were, afterall, raised by someone who was never afraid to make a point. However, unlike your aunt, you always longed for romance. You always imagined big declarations of passionâ but perhaps itâs time to learn that love creeps to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.
Aspiration: Academic OR Soulmate
Traits: Romantic, Socially Awkward, and Loyal OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Education Career
â Recommended Mod: Education Overhaul
â Master the Research and Debate skill. â Have a childhood enemy that you become best friends with in high school. â Go to University and study Language and Literature. â Fall out with your best friend while in University. â Start dating someone you meet in University but break up right after graduation. â Get a job in the Education Career and write on the side. â Reconnect with your former best friend and realize you love them. â Get married to your best friend. â Retire from the Education career and become a freelance writer in your twilight years.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 6: Nancy Drew đ âI don't promise to forget the mystery, but I know I'll have a marvelous time.â  đ Every bedtime, your mother read you stories that she and your grandmother wrote. Among all of those, itâs your grandmotherâs mysteries that impacted you the most. There was something so thrilling about being a heroic, fearless woman who helped others out. Because of this, you gained a bunch of friends who loved you very deeply. With their support, you grew up as a well-known detective who can solve any case. It was a fun life, but you eventually settled down in Henford-On-Bagley to have a family of your own.
Aspiration: Friend of the WorldÂ
Traits: Generous, Nosy, and Outgoing OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Detective OR Â â Zerbuâs Simvestigations Mod
â Master the fitness skill. â Be close friends with both your parents. â Have 2 best friends who are either your roommates (Discover University) or live in the same apartment complex as you (For Rent) for your entire YA life. â Get engaged to someone you meet on-the-job. â Before marrying your fiance, go on a trip to Selvadorada with your 2 best friends and explore the Jungle Temples. â Settle down in Henford-On-Bagley and have a farm life of your own. â Never move away once you settle in Henford-On-Bagley.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 7: Dorothy Gale đś âIf we walk far enough, we shall sometime come to someplace.â  đś Growing up you knew that there was more to the world than what was outside your own backdoor. Afterall, your mother was a famous detectiveâ if she went on her own adventures, why canât you?
With her and your fatherâs support, you spend your young adult life traveling. You made some great friends along the way (and even some loves), but eventually you start to wonder if there is no place like home.
Aspiration: Local Aspirationsâ complete at least two
Beach Life
Mt. Komorebi SightseerÂ
Fount of Tomarani Knowledge
Traits: Adventurous, Dog Lover, and Loves Outdoors OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Any Freelance CareerÂ
â Recommended Mods: SimNation Travel, Home Region
â Have a dog that goes everywhere with you. â Live in 3 or more worlds during your Young Adult life. â Make 3 best friends that each teach you a valuable life lesson. â After making your three best friends, use reward points to add the following traits: Brave, Savant, and Incredibly Friendly. â As an adult, realize you miss your family and return home. â Have a long distance relationship with the father of your children.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 8: Wendy Darling đ âShe was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. â  đ You grew up waiting. First, for your fatherâs seasonal visits⌠which eventually stops when you become a teenager. Next, for the opportunity to leave Henford-on-Bagley to pursue your dreams of becoming an actress. And finally, for your first love, a man who refused to propose to you, no matter how long you waited for him to. Eventually you grew tired waiting and decided to grow up. You married a sensible man, had a child, and gave up your dreams of becoming an actress. Still, you held on to the dreams of your first love and end up reconnecting in a night of passion that leaves you pregnant with his child. Realizing that heâll never grow up, you decide to dedicate your life to your family and husband.
Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress - you fail this or theâ Housewife Aspiration (after you marry)
Traits: Perfectionist, Proper, and Cheerful OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Actor/Actress
â Master the Parenting skill. â Have a distant family dynamic with your father who never lives with you. â Join the drama club and meet your first love. Optional: He has the childish trait. â Give your first love all of your major romantic milestones. â Lose touch with your first love when you move to Del Sol Valley. â Marry a man youâd consider as sensible. Have one child with him. â Have a one time secret affair that results in another child. â Dedicate your life to your children afterwards.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 9: Alice Liddell  đ° âIt would be so nice if something made sense for a change.â đ°
There were times you felt like you never truly belonged anywhere. While everyone at home lived and abided by your parentsâ rules, your head was always in the clouds. Sensibilities and propriety were never in your vocabulary, much to the disdain of your father and the rest of your siblings. Still, you were a free spirit that could never be controlled. After moving out as a young adult, you fell in love with cooking and mixology. You also met a group of misfits who were as different as you. Every Sunday, youâd host special âteaâ parties with them, that broadened your worldview and made you realize that the world gets curiouser and curiouser with each passing day.
Aspiration: Master Mixologist or Master Chef
Traits: Clumsy, Foodie, and Childish OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: Culinary Career
â Recommended Mods: Basemental, Grannies Cookbook, Open Love Life
â Master the Cooking and Mixology Skills. â Have a juice/nectar hobby on the side. â Have a club with people who have weird or eccentric traits.* â Fall in love with someone with the Erratic Trait. â Host âteaâ parties every Sunday in your own home. â Optional: Use the Basemental Mods and have your Sims get high on dope/drunk on alcohol during the tea parties. â Dye your hair a different, brighter color. â Live in a quirky and colorful house. â Befriend a rabbit who you talk to constantly. Name them The Mad Hatter. â â Optional: Be in a polyamorous relationship with Romantic Boundaries OR the Open Love Life Mod â Have two children. *You decide what weird and eccentric means.
â˝ŕźď˝Ľ*Ëâşâ§Í
Generation 10: Countess Ellen Olenska  đ¨ âThe real loneliness is living among all these people who only ask one to pretend.â đ¨
You appreciated your motherâs lifestyle. You saw the world for what it could become, and not what everyone wanted it to be. However, you worried about your younger sister. You saw her innocence and wanted to protect it. When you turned into a young adult, you moved away and took your sister with you to start anew. However, life was not always easy. Straight out of teenhood, you married someone from a different city and had a tumultuous relationship with him. You separate with him and continue to care for your sister. Youâre able to provide for her through your paintings, which also brought you a lot of fame. When she grew up into a Young Adult, she formed an attachment with a man that⌠intrigued you. She married him. This kept him in your life, but made it difficult for you to ignore your feelings. One night, you find yourself alone together, and you must make a choice: stay with him and break your sister's heart, or leave forever to give them peace. You have a price to pay either wayâ we can't behave like people in novels without consequence, can we?
Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire
Traits: Gloomy, Art Lover, and Family Oriented OR choose/roll for the last trait
Career: CriticÂ
â Recommended Mods: RPO, Wonderful Whims, Custom Relationship Bits, Soulmates
â Master the Painting Skill. â Become a Level 3 Celebrity with your paintings. â Marry someone who isnât your soulmate straight out of high school. Have a negative relationship with him before separating. â Optional: Only temporarily separate with him using the RPO Mod. â Be best friends with your sister. â Become soulmates with the partner of your sister without consummating the relationship. â When youâre an adult, invite your sisterâs partner over, and make a choiceâ woohoo together and break your sister's heart, or end the emotional affair. â If you woohoo together - Tell your sister the next day and become enemies. Name your child after them. â If you end the emotional affair - Move away from your love and get back together with your ex-husband. Die without having your own children.
#sims 4 gameplay#the sims 4 challenge#TheLiteraryHeroineChallengeTS4#sims 4 challenges#ts4#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#ts4 legacy challenge#simblr#new simblr#sims 4#sims 4 challenge#sims 4 legacy challenge#s4#the sims 4#the sims 4 gameplay#the sims community#sims 4 legacy#the sims 4 legacy#ts4 challenge#ts4 gameplay
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loser boyfriend san ⥠| ěľě°
pairing: domestic san! x reader (just san being an absolute sucker for his s/o <3), fluff (too much fluff)
a/n: realistic little moments of what san would be like because we all love san (if there are any spelling or punctuation errors, please ignore them)
ŕ¨ŕ§ â masterlist â§Ëââ˘ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘â§âËâš
loser boyfriend san who comes into your room in the middle of the night dragging his shiba plushie, eyes barely opened, just because you had a nightmare of being chased by a running broccoli in the middle of the streets. but he doesn't judge you, and holds you close in his arms, listening to all of your incoherent blabbering, hiccupping and sobbing, tears soaking a wet patch on his sandokki pajamas. after which, he tugs you to bed, lying beside you. the morning after, you wake up to san sprawled on the floor, hugging his shiba plushie close to his chest.
loser boyfriend san who takes pride in bringing you and your mom to the nail salon. and he absolutely does not care about the stares he receives when he links arms with you and your mom, striding in like a proud kitten. he waits patiently by your side, head resting on his arms, examining each and every procedure. "jagiya, doesn't it hurt? they are snipping off your skin!" san exclaims. oh,, such dumb boy. "san, it's my cuticles, i don't feel a thing" and when you and your mom attempt to explain to him what a french tip is, he smiles and nods sheepishly, even though you knew very well that nothing went into that boy's head <3
loser boyfriend san who claims to take taekwondo and gym classes to "man up" yet every time you fall sick he can't help but bawl his eyes out. "jagiya, it's okay, it's not your fault. it's just a little cough, that's all" you whisper while running your fingers through his hair. san, who had his head buried in between your breasts looks up at you, dragon eyes softened into swollen doe eyes. but your words didn't seem to help. he blabbers, tears beginning to well up in his eyes yet again "what if you die? what if you never wake up again because your cough killed you? what if-" "SAN. I'M NOT GOING TO DIE, IT'S JUST A COUGH"
loser boyfriend san who never fails to beat the housewife agenda by packing you cute lunchboxes when you had lessons to attend. every time you opened up the hello kitty themed lunchbox container, your friends would be in awe about how he managed to make the cute octopus shaped sausages, a heart-shaped omelette and fruits cut into different animals. once, you had forgotten your lunchbox at home and not even two hours into class, san showed up at your school running to you while frantically pointing at the lunchbox. "i can't leave my baby starving" is all he said to you before hurrying off to his school in a bike because he doesn't have a drivers license (...)
loser boyfriend san who travelled 8 hours to your parent's house without you knowing, just to ask for their acceptance to be your husband. "There is no one who provokes or quarrel with me. I can save her by fighting off bad guys because I have taken exercise hard and i can give her a lot of love because i grew up in a loving home. If you allow me, i will make her happy and comfortable all the time." and of course your parents were over the moon.
and that was the last time you had the rights to call him your loser boyfriend, because now he's your loser husband, and you still love him very much <3
#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez drabbles#ateez fic#ateez san#ateez fluff#ateez x y/n#kpopff#kpopfic#kpop fluff#ateez ff#atz fluff#san ateez#ateez yunho#atz drabbles#atz imagines#atz fanfic#atz#ateez#ateez ot8#choi san#san ff#san drabble#san fic#san oneshot#yunho#jeong yunho#san fluff
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Recently with Arcane ending and the backlash/critics the second season received I've come to feel like it's even harder to start writing and creating art (as in, "if even people on that level aren't perfect, what chance do I have of making something truly good?"). How do you deal with this feeling, to start creating, knowing all the mistakes you're gonna have to make?
Well that's an interesting question. I think Arcane is actually a really good example for this. Because as far as I can tell, everything Arcane did with its story was, from the creators' perspective, a success.
I didn't see any glaring mistakes in Arcane season 2. I just saw a lot of decisions that served the themes they wanted to explore - love being unbreakable even when the participants have hurt each other unfathomably, sisters and sister cities falling naturally back into care and alliance when faced with an outside threat, the blinding allure of vengeance and rage and how it's a trap that must be actively escaped.
I think it's always important to meet a story where it's at. "I wanted the story to be a different story" is never a useful criticism. A storyteller needs to tell the story they think should be told. I think Arcane is throwing some people because season 1 in isolation looked like it could have been setting up some different threads - I was expecting them to more thoroughly explore the class divide in Piltover and Zaun and how they could navigate mending their relationship after so many atrocities and injustices inflicted on Zaun, but instead they used the sister cities as a mirror for Vi and Powder, and Vi and Powder are two people who love each other and have hurt each other and despite that will never stop being sisters, so that gets reflected back into Piltover and Zaun. I don't think that's a perfect analogy, but I do think it's the analogy they were going for.
A story cannot be every story. They picked the story they wanted to tell and executed it in the time they had, and I think they did good. That's a lesson we can all internalize as artists; my art, once created, cannot contain every possibility it held before it existed. And even if I fulfil my vision as closely as possible, some people are going to wish I'd done something else. And if those people have such a strong vision of the story they wish I'd told instead, it sounds like they should probably tell that story, since it's already taken shape in their mind. "I wish this story had scrapped its plans and themes and explored this OTHER idea" isn't useful as a criticism, but it is a very powerful artistic motivator.
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barbie girl.
if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then itâs so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really shouldâve googled about the new plastics economy.
or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that heâs (not) all that.
pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⎠makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, âif a man talks shit then i owe him nothingâ playlist :: pretty boys (romi) â you canât sit with us (sunmi) â i just wanna know (katherine li) â lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) â look what you made me do (taylor swift) â leftover feelings (regina song) â number one girl (rosĂŠ) + extended playlist here. authorâs note :: sheâs all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but iâve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ἍᥠⳠpart of the đŻđ˘đđ˛đąđđąđŚđŹđŤ collaboration series.
i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!
Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.
Good looking, charismatic, and popular â itâs his world, and youâre just living in it. Or something like that. Youâre decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, youâd probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.
By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting.Â
Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.
âY/N!â
You stand corrected.
Na Jaemin does know that you exist.
You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. Youâre locking it in.
Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though youâre in another class with him again for spring semester this year (since all freshmen with a business major has to take the same Gen. Ed. classes), not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note one time, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that youâre very much content with.
So then why on earth is he shouting your name like youâre old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?
Heâs unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.
Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you canât even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your universityâs it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. âHey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.â
Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool âUh huh.â
He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.
âI know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, butââ
Youâre barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. Itâs pretty embarrassing to see how a mere stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but itâs so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face youâve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes?Â
Meanwhile, youâre out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.
ââwith me?â Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, too caught up in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like heâs asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? Youâre positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one youâve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.
âOh! Um⌠yes?â Itâs a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope thatâs the correct answer heâs looking for.Â
Jaeminâs face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun.Â
âOh shit, really? Youâre really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuckâyou know, our classâs peer TAâsaid I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since weâre kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last weekâs practice midterm, so I thought, âhey, why not shoot my shot?ââ He directs another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isnât helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.
âWait, Donghyuck said that about me?â you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word âTUTORâ spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.
Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction. Actually, the two of you became very good friends once you very quickly got over the fact that you were firmly placed in the friendzone. Heâs even dating one of your best friends now).
âAnyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.â You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.
Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isnât socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesnât seem to want to cooperate. You blink slowly once. Then twice.
âOr, I can just⌠uh, type in your number if you tell me,â Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.
âHere,â you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. âI should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when youâre free and we can work something out.â
âAwesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, youâre a life saver.â Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. âIâll text you tonight, yeah?â
You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.
What have you gotten yourself into?
ii. you want to go for a ride?
âIâm getting sus vibes from him.â
Flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder, Lana takes a long sip of her wintermelon milk tea with honey pearls, a spitting image of that one infamous Starbucks meme of your schoolâs alumni, Hyungwon (His picture can still be found floating through discord chats, and youâre ninety percent sure your school used it in one of their recruitment brochures at one point). Sheâs sprawled out on the beanbag in the corner of your shared apartmentâs living room, her HP laptop covered in sailor moon stickers balanced across her thighs (She swears HP is the best laptop brand, but you donât trust electronics advice from anyone who canât even use a toaster properly).
âHave you even spoken to Jaemin? How exactly are you getting sus vibes from him?â Moon jumps in, glancing over the top of her MacBook as she takes a quick break from her latest coding project regarding polynomials, matrices, and a bunch of other math terminology you rather not think about. You left all that arithmetic jargon back in high school after you got a 5 on both AP calculus exams and got to skip all required math classes for your accounting major (Sungchan wasnât so lucky).
âHeâs a fratboy finance major.â Lana rolls her eyes.
âPoint taken, but werenât you into that senior, Jaehyun? Heâs one of them. You called him your soulmate,â you interject, and she splutters for a few seconds before putting her hand up in protest.
âListen, I was going through a perpetual mental breakdown at the beginning of this semester. It doesnât count. You try being a pharmacy major. Thank god I switched out to English. My mental state was compromised, and I wasnât thinking straight.â
âWhat do you mean not thinking straight? Lana, you literally chose the straightest, most heterosexual man out there.â Moon jibes, closing her laptop now with an air of conceding defeat. You have to give her props for trying to work on some assignments, but you already knew no one was going to get any work done tonight. Itâs a Thursday night anyway, which means you have until Tuesday to get all the homework assigned today done. You can always work on them on Monday night and inevitably curse yourself for not getting it done earlier when you end up pulling an all nighter and show up to your 8 a.m. international marketing tactics class with raccoon eyes.Â
âThis is bullying, and we are on an anti-bullying campus,â Lana complains, giving the two of you the stink eye before leaning over and lightly shoving the snoozing boy sprawled across the floor next to her. âWake up, Yang. Moon and Y/N gang up on me when youâre not awake to absorb all our gentle bullying.â
The boy in question sits upright, bleary eyes and the drying ink from his notes now decorating his cheek, a lasting reminder of the makeshift pillow for his impromptu nap. Yawning, he stretches his arms, rubbing his face and making an even bigger mess of smears. âWhatâd I miss?â
âWe were just discussing Lanaâs tragic crush on Jaehyun last year,â you say, and she makes a strangled noise next to you. âWere you up late sewing again?â
âYes,â Yangyang grumbles, âYou would think Kaneki would be so easy to cosplay since he wears all black, but the mask is taking forever to make.â
âCanât one of your sugar daddies buy one for you?â
âWhat sugar daddies? If I had one, I wouldnât be stuck in here trying to balance equations,â he moans, crumpling up another sheet filled up with scribbles and his latest attempts at answering the second to last problem for organic chemistry.
âMy bad, I thought you would have some from your cosplay account.â Moon shrugs, rummaging through her large soccer mom purse for a snack and triumphantly pulling out a box of green tea Hello Pandas. âYou have like 100k followers on there.â
âMy audience demographic is weebs.â Yangyang deadpans. âHow many weebs do you know who are rich enough to send five thousand dollars every week to a struggling college student?â
âWait, weâre going off topic right now. What do you know about Jaemin, Yang?â Lana cuts in, and Moon nods in agreement (You try not to look too interested, but fail miserably, no doubt).
âJaemin Na? Iâve never talked to him personally, but thereâs always stories about him and his friends. Jeno is on the baseball team and notorious for his body count. Heâs the one that takes up like 30% of our universityâs anonymous confessions Twitter account. This is his insta, but heâs not really active on social media.â Yangyang passes his phone around for the three of you to see Jenoâs Instagram. Thereâs a whopping total of fourteen posts, and every picture of him with someone of the opposite sex features a different girl. Instant red flag.
âLia is pretty big on Tik Tok,â Yangyang continues, grabbing his phone to pull up her account to show all of you. âSheâs pretty and is actually really good at singing, but she's basically trying to be the next Addison Rae. Jimin models, and sheâs going by Karina nowadays. I heard she tried to trademark that name or something. She posts dancing Tik Toks. She and Yeonjun collab a lot. He walks for New York fashion week and has a Tik Tok for dancing, too. Iâm like 70% sure theyâre only dating to boost their views. Somi is the most popular one out of them. Sheâs the blonde one. Sheâs pretty talented and I heard she signed onto the same company as the Blackpink House. Sheâs even done a makeup video with Vogue recently.â
âAnd Jaemin has a pretty large social following. He takes decent pictures, and thatâs what he insists his insta is for, but letâs be real, the majority of his followers are there for his face. You should see his TikTok. He literally just recorded himself looking at the camera and put some generic caption, and he racked up like seven hundred thousand likes,â Yangyang grumbles, pulling up his account to show you all the video in question. âLike literally, what the hell is this? I have to put in so many hours making my outfits and editing my videos and all he does is smile and paste âDonât have a valentine again⌠hope this will change soonâ on top, and the preteens are foaming at the mouth.â
âWow, jumpscare warning next time you show me him please.â Lana wrinkles her nose at the repeating offensive clip. Yangyang merely shoves his phone even closer to her in response, and she flips him off.
âHey, youâre the one who asked about him. Why are you suddenly interested in him? Is this your Jaehyun 2.0 phase starting up?â Yangyang grins, and Lana flicks his forehead in retaliation.
âShut up, when are you guys gonna let that die? Besides, itâs Y/N whoâs interested, not me,â Lana retorts, and immediately, the spotlight is back on you. You cough awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention.
âUh, he just asked if I would tutor himâŚâ
âAnd you said yes?â Yangyang sounds scandalized and utterly betrayed. âWhy would you willingly fraternize with the enemy like that?â
âWhat enemy? I didnât even know he knew I existed until this very recent development occurred.âÂ
âInfluencers like him are instant enemies to me, and as my friend, heâs your enemy by association. I can't believe youâre helping the competition,â Yangyang sniffs.
You donât have the guts to tell them all that the only reason you accepted his tutor proposal is because you got ahead of yourself and despite all the odds and signs, thought Jaemin was asking you out. You know your friends wonât make fun of you (too badly), but that is completely humiliating, and you will be taking that to the grave.
âItâs just tutoring, donât be so dramatic,â you scoff, making a face at him. âHe texted me yesterday, and weâre meeting up at the library later today, and I reserved a private study room for two hours.â
âOooh, so itâs a study date?â Moon teases, and your cheeks betray you with the amount of heat now emanating off of them.
âShut up, itâs literally just tutoring. Weâre going over supply and demand curves.âÂ
âNo, back up, he texted you yesterday and you didnât tell us about him until today?â Lana interjects, holding up her hand and putting on a faux offended expression. âWhat kind of friend are you? Weâre supposed to tell each other every nitty gritty detail about our love lives! Like Sungchan texts Moon good morning texts at eight in the morning, and by 8:30 a.m., weâre already getting a play by play about it in the group chat!â
Moon turns pink and opens her mouth before deciding against it and quietly shuts it. Yangyang silently laughs next to Lana, his shoulders shaking (You decide that you shouldnât tell them Jaemin actually asked you in person to tutor him three days ago or else, Lana will chew you out even more).
You protest, flailing your arms around slightly in exasperation. âThereâs literally zero development in my love life! I have nothing going on in it, and I can guarantee you that he does not see me in that light whatsoever.â
âYeah, okay, sure.â Lana looks wholly unconvinced, and your two friends look back and forth between the two of you like two kids watching their divorced parents fight. âSo⌠Do you need help picking out an outfit for tomorrow?â
â⌠Yeah.â
iii. sure, ken. jump in!
âHey, Y/N!âÂ
Jaemin loudly whispers a little breathlessly as he drops his bag onto the table and slumps into the chair next to yours, his chest heaving slightly. Startled, you jerk up in your chair, heart skipping a beat when you realize heâs here. You were supposed to be in a private study room, but there was a group of boys already in there, and as the most non-confrontational person to walk this earth, you decided to cut your losses and take a table nearby.
âDid you wait long? I got caught up outside the library when Somi stopped me and completely forgot,â he says apologetically, pulling out his textbooks, and you shake your head, giving him a shy smile.
âNo, itâs alright. I was already here anyway, and I got some extra studying done.â You gesture towards the papers and notebooks strewn across the tableâs surface, covered in your notes from todayâs classes. âShould we start with todayâs lesson? How much did you understand in class today?â
âMaybe the first five minutes of it only.â
You pause, glancing over at him. âProfessor Hwang was ten minutes late to class.â
âExactly.â Jaemin nods, and you stifle a laugh. He grins at you. âI donât think you realize how much of a hopeless cause I am when you agreed to tutor me.â
âWe can start from the beginning then. You have four weeks until the midterm, and we can go through every lesson weâve had so far. Iâll make up a study schedule if you give me yours. And if you continue to go to Donghyuckâs tutoring hours too, you should hopefully be able to catch up and do well on the midterm.â
Jaemin wordlessly pulls up his class schedule on his phone, and you plug them into a Google calendar that you quickly share to his email. âSo, I color coded your classes in green, and my classes are in pink. Do you have any other things that we need to work around?â
He peers over at your screen, scanning the contents. âI have my weekly frat meetings on Tuesday nights and mandatory events on other nights.â
âAlright, you can put them in and weâll figure out meeting times,â you say, pushing your laptop towards him and he starts to add in his extracurricular activities.
 âParty from 8 pm to 1 am?â you read skeptically, your eyes scanning over the event he tacked in under this weekâs Friday.
âYeah, canât miss it,â Jaemin says, typing in more events and making sure to color code them in blue. âDonât you have things to do on Friday night too?â
âUh, maybe grab a poke bowl from the dining hall to go and watch another Banana Fish episode,â you say awkwardly, fiddling with the small Gojo keychain you have attached to your pouch.
Jaemin stops, looking over at you. âYou watch Banana Fish?â
Your cheeks grow warm. â⌠Yeah, why?âÂ
His eyes light up and he asks eagerly, âDid you see the latest episode? When Golzine leaves Arthur in charge?â
The two of you continue discussing the plot as he finishes up adding in his schedule for the next four weeks, finally nudging the laptop back towards you. âDo you need to add in your stuff too?â
âMm no, itâs fine. I already put in my classes, and Iâm not in any clubs or sororities,â you answer, making sure to input Donghyuckâs tutoring hours as well before scanning over the calendar and pinpointing areas where heâs free for at least one to two hours. âOkay, should we start with meeting three times a week?â
âHuh, you memorized Hyuckâs hours?â Jaemin notes, giving you a sly smile as he moves closer to look at the schedule.
âHuh? No, donât you always know your professorsâ and TAsâ office hours?â you ask, looking up and are immediately startled after underestimating the proximity between you and the beautiful boy next to you.Â
âNo, Iâm not a nerd,â he snorts lightly, and you laugh awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction and put a little more distance between the two of you before you go into cardiac arrest, âRight, yeah, well, anywayââ
âYou were also interested when I said Hyuck mentioned you before,â Jaemin says suddenly, sitting up straight before a wide grin spreads across his face as he loudly exclaims, âYou totally have a crush on him!â
âQuiet down!â You immediately shush him, the tips of your ears burning as everyone within a 40 feet radius in the library is now staring at the two of you. Youâve never received this much attention before, and you very quickly realize that you absolutely hate it. You loudly whisper-protest, stumbling over your words in a panic, âIâI donât have a crush on him!â
âOh, come on, your face is getting hot and youâre stuttering. You do too like him,â Jaemin laughs softly, propping his elbow onto the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he gives you a once over. âI could totally make you into his type.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â You ask hotly, cheeks burning even more when you feel his eyes graze over your figure.
âOh, itâll be so much fun. We can go to the mall and pick out some cute clothes for you, and then swing by the hair shop. Youâre definitely using the wrong conditioner and shampoo,â Jaemin continues, eying your hair for a quick second.
âWait, wait, weâre just here for tutoring, what are you even talking about?â You ask, bewildered before grasping a stray strand of your hair between your fingers. âAnd what do you mean Iâm using the wrong shampoo?â
âAnd conditioner,â Jaemin pipes up, picking up his phone to search up some better brands he would recommend. âWhat have you been using? 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders?â
âNo,â you huff softly, your ears growing even warmer at the accusation. âI just use whatever my mom buys in bulk at Costco.â
âOkay, well, you should use this instead,â Jaemin says, showing his phone screen to you, and your eyes widen slightly when you note the price tag.
âI cannot be forking over nearly seventy dollars on shampoo and conditioner,â you say incredulously, pushing his phone back towards him and waving your hand dismissively. âAnd thereâs no way Iâm going to spend even more money on new clothes.â
âOkay, fine, I think I have some unopened bottles from sponsored deals that I can give to you,â Jaemin sighs, opening up his text messages to find his friendsâ group chat. âOr my friends would have some good ones, too. Maybe we can get you some of their free clothes from sponsorships, too.â
âYou guys just get free clothes?âÂ
âYeah,â he shrugs, glancing over at you. âOn second thought, Karina and Lia arenât the same size as you, so you wonât fit them. We can just order some basic pieces online or something for starters.â
âWeâWe arenât doing this,â you loudly whisper back to him, hyper aware of the other students around you who keep glancing over at Jaemin. âLetâs just focus on making this schedule and helping you pass your midterm.â
âOh, please, doll, itâd be fun. Just think of it as a payment for your tutoring,â Jaemin persuades you, scooting closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours lightly. Your breath hitches in your throat at the pet name and his touch. Youâve never been this close to any boy before, let alone one as attractive as Jaemin.
âYouâll look so pretty, I know the perfect outfits to make for you. And I can teach you how to get Hyuckâs attention, too,â he continues, nudging you lightly, and youâre still dazed, unable to get over the fact that heâs impossibly close to you, close enough for you to count the pretty lashes framing his even prettier eyes. You wonder what itâs like to be that beautiful, what itâs like to have people falling at your feet, what itâs like to mesmerize everyone the second you walk into a room.
Honestly, if Jaemin asked you to jump, your only response would be âhow high.â
âIf I agree to this, will you finally pay attention?â you sigh, and Jaemin instantly brightens up, nodding and giving you another one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip flop. Your Achillesâ heel is one very persistent boy who goes by the name of Na Jaemin, and he has hit you with a direct bullseye.
âYes, Iâll be a model student, doll.â
You hesitate for a split second before relenting. âOkay, fine, deal.â
iv. iâm a barbie girl in the barbie world.
Jaemin is easy on the eyes, but currently proving to be very difficult for your nerves during your fourth tutoring session. Your wardrobe has increased in style and size by now, and youâre dressed in a pretty lilac top that wraps around you and accentuates your curves and hides what needs to be hidden perfectly. Your jeans may dig a little more than youâd like into your stomach, but itâs your fault that you chose to wear your photo jeans instead of your sitting jeans. Also, your hair has never looked better, all thanks to the boy seated next to you.
âNo, when there is a low supply, thereâs a high demand. They directly affect each other,â you try to re-explain to the boy next to you, drawing out the line graph once again. He stares down at the familiar graph before looking at the written practice problem in front of him. Professors must have an insane amount of patience, you silently think to yourself.Â
You sigh. âLetâs put it this way. You and Jeno want to buy the same shirt, but thereâs only one left in the right size. So thatâs two people who are demanding the one shirt. And the store only has one shirt in its supply. So how would you describe this situation?â
âOh.â The look of realization flashes across Jaeminâs face as your example easily snaps the puzzle pieces into place for him. âThereâs a high demand and low supply. Too many people want the shirt, but thereâs not enough shirts.â
âYes, you got it!â You cheer quietly, mindful of your location at one of the libraryâs tables. âNow try reading through the practice problems and draw the appropriate supply and demand graphs for each one.â
 âAnd when Iâm done with this, we can take a break, and Iâll teach you how to do makeup. My friends will help,â Jaemin says idly as he reads through the first problem again.Â
Your stomach lurches slightly at that, and you hesitate. âYour friends?â
âYeah, you know, Jeno, Karina, Lia, and Yeonjun. Somi, too, but sheâs been busy. I can teach you basic skincare and makeup, but the girls will have to help you with the rest,â he says casually, scrawling down his first answer and the corresponding graph.
You swallow hard, your voice croaking slightly before you hastily clear it. âAre you sure? Do you think theyâll like me?â
âYeah, donât worry about it, doll. Youâre like a puppy, and everyone likes those,â Jaemin mumbles idly, eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the second problem.
âA puppy?â You donât know whether to be offended or not yet.
Oh, you know, just that youâre cute and all,â Jaemin laughs lightly, starting to write down his next answer, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. You force yourself to breathe regularly again.
âOh, I see,â you start to answer coolly, but stuttering on the last word, internally cursing your tongue at the last stumble. You try to sit calmly and relax for the rest of the tutoring session as Jaemin slowly makes his way through the practice packet, but the knot in your stomach continues to tangle even more, growing ever bigger. Maybe you should just tell Jaemin that lunch didnât agree with you and cut this meetup short.Â
But that means less time spent with Jaemin. Maybe it wouldnât be so bad. Jaemin is nice, so his friends should be as well, you reason with yourself. Thereâs no need to be nervous. Even if theyâre all incredibly beautiful, hot people with the most unapproachable aura you have ever encountered.
Like honestly, how is someone like Karina even real? Her face could start a modern day equivalent of the Trojan War. She is literally the face blueprint for every main female character you play in your otome games.
Turns out, Karina is even more gorgeous up close. Ridiculously close with the way sheâs inches from your face as she swipes on some blush on the apples of your cheeks. You never thought youâd see the resident it girl here for you, standing in the middle of your dorm room, let alone have an actual conversation with her that extended beyond a polite hello when she stops by for Giselle. Itâs already been 45 minutes, and your nerves still havenât calmed down.
âYou just need to apply a little bit here and here on both your cheeks,â she instructs you, pointing towards your cheekbones and carefully applying the rosy powder to the same areas. She pauses in the application momentarily so that you can type out a few notes into your phone covering her directions. âYou can go heavier if you want the cute sunburn, Sabrina Carpenter look, but if you do too much, youâll end up looking like my ex.â
âWhat?â Youâre startled, glancing over at her and nearly getting blinded once again by her lethal face card. She laughs lightly, giving you a slight smile. âA clown.âÂ
âOh, got it,â you chuckle, albeit nervously, shooting her a quick smile. âIâll make sure to not do that.â
âRelax, itâs easy. Just a bit of makeup here and there, and youâll be fine. All I do is some mascara, falsies, and a good lippie when Iâm lazy, and Iâm out the door in ten minutes,â Lia jumps in, holding several different tubes of lip tints.
âAre you sure? Thatâs really it?â You ask hesitantly, glancing over the various makeup products strewn over your desk. It looks a lot more complicated than what she had just described.
âWell, maybe you might need a bit more, like concealer and foundation. And some bronzer and heavy contouring. But just stick to the skincare routine and itâll help lessen it,â Karina sighs, dabbing some highlighter to the tip of your nose before seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, adding hastily, âBut itâs so worth it, trust. Youâll look so pretty, and it comes with so many perks. Girl math is knowing you can go out with no money and just your face card.â
âHey, youâre friends with Yangyang?â Lia pipes up, noticing the photo strip you have pinned on your corkboard, nestled between the various Mystic Messenger Seven fanart and Zorro art prints.
âHuh? Oh yeah, I am. You know him?â You answer, and she nods before leaning in and evenly applying a thin layer of periwinkle tint on your lips. âYeah, weâre in the same German class. Do you know if heâs seeing anyone?â
Well, you definitely canât tell her about the raging heart on he has for his best friend, but itâs not like he really is seeing anyone either. You do vaguely remember Yangyang saying Lia was pretty and talented during his quick 5 minute minute class to Jaemin and his friends, so itâs not like he hates her either.
âNo, heâs not,â you answer, hoping you made the right choice, and Liaâs face visibly brightens. âOh, really? Thatâs great.â
âOkay, weâre done.â Karina announces, stepping back and holding up a mirror for you. âNot bad, right?â
âOh, wow,â you suck in a breath, nearly gasping in surprise as you peer at the glass. You almost donât recognize yourself. The contouring lifts up your face, slimming it down, and the blush gives you a pretty pink hue that makes you look sun kissed. Your lower lashes have nearly doubled in length with the mascara, giving you a pretty babydoll look. Karina had perfectly applied a set of falsies for you, framing your eyes delicately, and the shimmery eyeshadow and soft winged eyeliner accentuates your eyes even more. Your lips are the prettiest shade of pink, tinted and glossy.
You canât believe it is your own reflection staring back at you.
âNow put this outfit on,â Lia says with a knowing smile, placing a shopping bag in your lap. âJaemin picked it out.â
âOh, really? Alright,â you manage to mumble out, dazed and still admiring yourself in the hand mirror. Karina laughs softly, nudging Lia before moving towards your door. âWe have to get to a sorority meeting now, but I hope you like it, doll. And make sure to practice.â
âI love it,â you say breathlessly, grazing your fingertips against the cool glass, still in disbelief. âAnd I definitely will practice.â
âMm, good, text us if you need any help! And send progress pics! We want to see how itâs going,â Lia answers, waving over her shoulder before the two of them exit your dorm. Sitting there alone, you stare at your reflection for a little longer, admiring yourself. You feel so pretty.Â
You finally remember the paper bag on your lap, and you immediately dig into it, pulling out a flowy floral sundress. Itâs beautiful, and you quickly tug off your jeans and tshirt before going to your drawers to dig around for the appropriate bra for the dress. You manage to find it, snapping on the bra around yourself from the front before twisting it until the clasp is against your back. You hastily push your arms through the straps, tugging on either side until itâs on perfectly. You suck in a quick breath, internally preparing yourself for the battle with the next piece of clothing, a.k.a. your worst enemy: spandex. Youâve familiarized yourself with the awkward jig you have to do around your dorm until youâve wriggled into the tight elastic enough so that it sits in the correct spot and sucks in all the right places.
At last, you won the war, but you feel sweaty now, flopping back onto your bed for a quick break. You flap your hands in front of your face, thanking whoever decided to invent setting spray. You grab your deodorant spray and douse yourself in a heavy dose of it before picking up the sundress and slipping it over your head. To your great relief, it slides on perfectly, and you quickly shuffle over to the full length mirror hanging on the back of your door. You straighten out the dress and quickly pat down any strand of hair knocked askew from your latest struggles before giving a smile to the mirror.
Dare you say it? You look pretty.
Youâve never looked this pretty before.
You happily take out the dainty gold heart necklace you had carefully tucked into your top desk drawer, struggling for a few seconds before you manage to clasp it around your neck. You quickly pull the pendant towards the front before slipping on the strappy sandals you left next to your desk. You grab the cute purse you bought last week, now packed with the perfect essentials, and give yourself one last once over.
You have nowhere to go, but you decide to take a walk to the dining hall. After all, youâre dressed up so nicely, makeup done so perfectly, you canât waste it on another night stuffing your face with hot Cheetos and rewatching the first season of Haikyuu!!. Opening your door, you step out and nearly run into someone.Â
âOh, finally, youâre done, doll. I thought you died in there or someâŚâ
His eyes widening in utter shock, his next word dies on the tip of his tongue when Jaemin sees you standing in front of him. His mouth falls open slightly before he quickly closes it to swallow harshly, his throat running dry. Heâs never seen you like this before, never imagined that youâd be this pretty. He inhales sharply, stiffening slightly as his eyes rake over your figure, seeing how the dress perfectly accentuates your figure, and settles on your face.
âJaemin? What are you doing here?â Your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks grow warm when you notice his stunned reaction.
âUm,â he croaks out, voice cracking before he quickly swallows again, silently cursing when puberty decides to make a belated appearance. âLia texted me that you were done, so I wanted to see how it went. You look⌠wow.â
Your cheeks heat up even further, and you laugh a little nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. âR-really? Itâs not too much?â
âNo!â He immediately blurts out before his cheeks flush carmine. âIâI mean, you look really good. You should dress like this more often.â
You canât stop the smile spreading across your face, and Jaeminâs heart flip flops in his chest. âReally? Thank you, I will then.â
âOf course, really. I picked the dress myself after all,â He tries to joke before hastily clearing his throat. âDo you have somewhere to be?â
âOh, no, I donât. I was just going to go to the dining hall and grab some food,â you answer awkwardly, shifting your purse over your shoulder slightly and tightening your fingers around its strap.
âLet me take you out for dinner.â Jaemin blurts out, a little high pitched, mentally facepalming at how he sounds. âI mean, we can go over some of the harder problems in that packet since I probably need more studying anyway, and Iâll teach you a couple more dating tricks.â
âSure, okay, that sounds good.â You give him a wider beam, and Jaemin feels his heart beat a little faster. Maybe you donât need that much teaching from him after all. Seems like youâre a quick learner.
v. life is plastic, itâs fantastic!
âThe only thing youâre fucking is stupid.â
âShut the hell up, Yeonjun. At least Iâm not sticking my dick in crazy.â
You watch the light argument going on between Jeno and Yeonjun in amusement. You and Jaemin had just finished your ninth tutoring session two hours ago, and you think heâs getting on track to actually scoring a decent grade for the next midterm. You were initially going to head towards Lana and Moonâs dorm for your weekly anime show marathon, but Jaemin insisted that you stop by the Alpha Sigma Psi house for a small party. Giselle and Karina are both part of that house, so you figured it couldnât hurt to make a quick appearance. Good thing you spent some time touching up your makeup before todayâs tutoring session.
âHey, doll! Join the photo,â Jaemin calls out to you, gesturing you towards the area he and the rest of his friends are standing. You see another really pretty girlâMinjeong, was it?âstanding on the side, holding up a phone and preparing to take the picture.
âOh, no, itâs okay, I can just take the photo instead,â you laugh awkwardly, extending your hand out towards Minjeong, but Jeno gently nudges you forward, âNo way, you never take pics with us. Just one, come on, Y/N.â
âYeah, join us!â Jaemin says brightly, tugging you towards him and you stumble slightly, falling forward into his chest. You quickly catch yourself, hands suddenly pressed against his chest, and the blood rushes to your face.
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry,â you start to babble, trying to push yourself away before Jaemin quickly wraps his arm around your waist. âNope, youâre staying here, itâs just a few pics, please, doll?â
âIâI mean, I donât reallyââ
You start to say before Minjeongâs voice cuts through the air. âOkay, Iâm taking it in five seconds now. So get ready and pose or be ready to live with the consequences on Insta forever.âÂ
Everyone immediately shuffles around, and youâre squeezed even tighter against Jaemin, and you just know that he can feel your heart pounding rapidly against his chest.
âSmile, doll,â Jaemin laughs gently, squeezing your hip lightly and you inhale sharply at that, your heart rate spiking and increasing exponentially. You muster up a few shaky smiles as the flash starts to go off.
After a few more pictures, you manage to untangle yourself from the group and hurriedly go towards Minjeong. âI can take the pictures, you should join in.â
She immediately brightens up at that, giving you a kilowatt smile as she hands you the phone and slips into your original position in between Jaemin and Karina. âOh, thanks, Y/N.â
You wait a few moments for everyone to get readjusted before you begin to snap some photos, having already mastered this from the previous hang outs youâve joined and knowing how to take the best angles for everyone, including all the 0.5 zoom out ones. After taking some additional group and solo photos for the girls, youâre finally free of your duties. Your eyes widen when you check the time on your phone, and you hurriedly make your way over to Jaemin.
âHey, I need to get going now. I have to get to Lana and Moonâs dorm, so Iâll see you later,â you say quickly, already beginning to brush past him as the realization sets in that itâs been over an hour when you told your friends that you would only be fifteen minutes late.
âWait, what? Hey, hold on, doll.â Jaemin reaches out to you, but you slip past him, calling over your shoulder. âSorry, Iâm late!â
He strides over, soon matching your pace as you speed walk back to the freshman dormitories. âCanât you slow down a little bit? Itâs not like you all havenât seen these episodes before, plus we watched a few of them together after our last tutoring session.â
âYeah, but Iâm over an hour late,â you stress, slightly frazzled now as you hurriedly type out an apology to send to the group chat.
âJust breathe, okay? Youâll be fine. Theyâre your friends. They should understand,â Jaemin reassures you, grabbing your hand and you freeze slightly. He notices your stop and teases lightly, âI said slow down, not stop. Whatâs wrong?â
âN-Nothing,â you stammer out a little too quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Heâs holding your hand. Na Jaemin is hand in hand with you, fingers intertwined. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if youâre dreaming.
âWell, alright then, come on, let me walk you back,â Jaemin laughs before tugging you along. âYou can help me pick out which pictures to post on Insta along the way, too, yeah?â
âOh, sure,â you say breathlessly, your heart rate quickening to an embarrassing speed when he squeezes your hand gently, and you nesrly trip over your own feet.
âPerfect, so what about this one?â He holds up his phone to show you the picture you had taken for the group earlier, and you falter slightly. Why are you feeling a little disappointed with his choice?
Jaemin notices your hesitation and says a little softly, âI know youâre a private person. So I thought youâd prefer if I posted the group photo you took. You always take the best pictures for me, too. You know my good side the best. And itâd be weird if Hyuck saw, too, right? But did you want the other photo? I mean, if you really want it, I can..?â
âNo!â You hurriedly say to reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. âNo, youâre right. I donât want my picture out there. And um, yeah, that definitely wouldnât be good if Hyuck saw.â
Jaemin gives you a relieved smile. âYeah, exactly. Youâre not upset, right, doll? We still have that fun pic of us and our homemade pizzas from earlier that I posted on my finsta. I didnât know making pizzas would be that easy.â
âOf course not, donât worry about it,â you laugh softly, continuing to walk back to the freshman dormitories, and Jaemin swings your joined hands between the two of you freely.
âMm, Iâm getting free cooking and tutoring lessons in exchange for dating tips. Two for the price of one is quite the good deal for me, right?â Jaemin teases lightly, and you let out another laugh.
âYouâre right, it is. You better step up your game then.â
âOh, just you wait, youâll get dating tips and a boyfriend, so weâll be even,â Jaemin chuckles softly, squeezing your hand, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach once again, and you muster up the courage to say something a little more teasing.
âIs that a guarantee?â
âWell, you have a demand, and I must supply, right?â
ââŚI donât think thatâs how it quite goes, Jaemin. Maybe you need a few more tutoring sessions.â
âAll I hear is that you want to spend more time with me,â Jaemin laughs, giving you the prettiest smile, and your cheeks warm up even more, heart stuttering in your chest. Speechless, you let him continue on, his chattering filling the air as you listen with quiet content, your hand securely tucked in his for the remainder of the walk back.
vi. you can brush my hair.
Jaemin sits on the edge of his chair across from you at the table in the dorm common area, anxiously tapping his fingers against the flat surface. You are down to the last page of the mock exam packet, carefully going over his work with a red pen. You made minimal marks on the papers, a stark contrast to the very first practice exam he had worked on near the start of your tutoring. At that point in time, he didnât even get to the end of the exam.
âAmazing.â
You say in awe, scanning through the last problem Jaemin had completed before tallying up his final score and calculating his results. âI canât believe it. You got an 87.â
âNo fucking way,â Jaemin is wide eyed, staring at you in disbelief, and you give him a wide smile, sliding the packet over to him, so that he can look over the exam and notes youâve written for the problems he missed.Â
âYes fucking way.â
âHoly shit, this is insane,â Jaemin breathes out, carefully reading through each page, and to his utter amazement, he understands every note and explanation you had added next to each incorrect question. He looks up at you, beaming, âI really got a B+?â
âYou did,â you confirm, smiling back at him. âAnd who knows? It might become an A if the exam gets curved.â
âOh my god, I owe you my life,â Jaemin chuckles, staring down at the graded exam in front of him, still in disbelief. âSeriously, doll, thank you so much.â
âOh, of course, anytime,â you laugh sheepishly, twisting the rings adorning your fingers around nervously before averting your attention elsewhere, standing up to go towards the adjacent communal kitchen and carrying your filled tote bag with you. âAâAnyway, I brought some things to celebrate a job well done so far.â
âAnd how did you know I wouldâve done well? What if I completely bombed that exam?â Jaemin teases you, standing up and following after you.
âI donât know, I guess I just believed in you,â you stutter out, cheeks warming up as you set down your tote bag on the counter, unable to look him in the eyes, and he freezes, mulling over your words silently.
You believe in him? Someone whoâs a hopeless cause? He honestly didnât even believe in himself, he thinks to himself, his chest constricting uncomfortably, a foreign feeling making its entrance known to him, constricting around his heart. He inhales sharply, shoving it away with an easy going smile. âIs that so? Well, thanks, Y/N. And what are we doing now?â
âMaking pancakes,â you answer, busying yourself with pulling out the ingredients from your tote bag. âYou need to be well fed before the midterm. Your brain needs food. And the class is at 8 am, and neither of us are not morning people, so this is as good as itâs gonna get.â
âPancakes?â Jaemin echoes after you, glancing at the various items strewn across the counterâs surface. âDoes it really take this many ingredients? Isnât it just the box mix and water?â
âThatâs the short cut way. Weâre making pancakes from scratch,â you laugh softly, taking out a mixing bowl and whisk along with the measuring cups and spoons.Â
âBut why? Itâs so much easier the other way.â Jaemin whines softly, and you chuckle lightly. âTrust me, itâs worth the effort.â
You hand the one cup measuring utensil and bowl to Jaemin and nudge him towards the flour. âHelp me measure out two cups of flour.â
âAlright,â he sighs, opening the bag of flour and carefully scooping out the first cup, scraping off any excess before dumping it into the bowl before repeating the process. âWhat next?â
âFour tablespoons of sugar,â you answer, handing him the sugar and appropriate measuring utensil before working on measuring four teaspoons of baking powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda. You pour those to the mixing bowl as Jaemin quietly measures the sugar and adds it in as well before waiting for your next instructions. You quickly drop in half of a teaspoon of salt before pushing the bowl towards him. âNow whisk this together gently, please.â
Jaemin busies himself with combining the dry ingredients as you take out half a stick of butter from the fridge (The one labeled with your name, of course. Youâre no food thief, unlike someone whoâs been stealing other peopleâs leftover takeout). You microwave it to get four tablespoons of melted butter before making your way to Jaeminâs side.
âOkay, now make a well in the center of it,â you say, and Jaemin clumsily makes an indent in the dry mixture before looking towards you for approval.
âPerfect, now add in two teaspoons of vanilla extract and crack the egg into it there,â you instruct him, and he obediently follows your directions. You measure out one and three quarters cups of milk and add it to the well before also pouring in the melted butter.
âDo I just whisk it together now?â Jaemin asks, picking up the whisk again, and you nod.
âYes, mix it all together. Itâs fine if thereâs a few lumps, but it should be smooth overall.â Your eyes trail over his face, and you stifle a small laugh. âYou got a little something on your cheek.â
âWhat?â Jaemin looks up, pausing in his whisking and you canât help but giggle, staring at the flour dusting his cheek. âThereâs flour on your face.â
âOh, really? Can you wipe it off for me?â Jaemin laughs softly, attempting to brush at it with his shoulder but failing to reach that high.
âOh, s-sure,â you stammer slightly, your hand quivering slightly as you outstretch your fingers and gingerly brush your fingertips against the apple of his cheek. His sun kissed skin is warm beneath your fingertips, and your breath hitches in your throat before you gently wipe away the remaining residue. You can feel his gaze searing into your face, but you refuse to look him directly in the eyes.
âThere, all done,â you murmur, hastily pulling away and taking a step back. Jaemin lets out a breath he didnât even realize he was holding in. He clears his throat, setting down the bowl. âI think this is all done, too.â
âOh, great, thatâs great,â you say, immediately focusing on the bowl before carrying it with you towards the stove, turning it on. âLetâs set this to medium-low heat. And Iâll add some butter to the pan, so the pancake wonât stick.â
Jaemin hands you the leftover butter and pan for you to set onto the stove. You use the spatula to move around a pat of butter, coating the pan nicely. Once the stove is ready and the butter starts to sizzle slightly, you pour a quarter cup of the batter onto the pan, expertly flicking your wrist to rotate the pan and cause the batter to form a perfect circle. You pull out a small container of blueberries, sprinkling some of them on top.
âWoah.â Jaemin watches you, impressed. âTeach me how to do that.â
âThis? Itâs easy,â you laugh softly, checking on the pancake until its underside is golden and small bubbles start to form on the top. You quickly move the pan, flipping the pancake onto its other side. âYou can try making the next one.â
âYeah? Will you wrap your arms around me and give me the one on one experience?â Jaemin jokes lightheartedly, and you nearly choke. âI meanâI donât think that's completely necessary.â
âRelax, doll, Iâm just kidding,â he laughs softly, nudging you gently, and you let out an awkward laugh. âOh, totally. Just a joke.â
Once the pancake is golden on both sides, you carefully slide it onto a plate Jaemin pulled out from one of the cabinets. Your heart rate finally returns to its normal state, and you manage to say calmly, âMaple syrup and whipped cream are in the fridge.âÂ
Jaemin takes out the aforementioned toppings, generously slathering on some butter before pouring the syrup and spraying whipped cream onto the pancake. He cuts out a small piece and quickly spears it onto his fork before taking the bite, nearly moaning in delight at the first taste.
âHoly crap, this is so fucking good.â
âMy secret recipe,â you say proudly as you start to pour the batter for a second pancake, evenly spreading it on the pan. âWas it worth the effort?â
âYes.â Jaemin swallows, almost immediately going for another bite before he gazes at you, giving you a genuine smile, and your heart rate again increases to an alarming speed.
âDefinitely worth it.â
vii. undress me everywhere.
You finish the midterm in forty five minutes, being the first one to turn in your completed exam. This means you finished twenty minutes before the class ends and consequently, either failed it spectucularly or knocked it out of the park. You really hope itâs the latter.
Despite being rather preoccupied with other matters a.k.a. your suddenly thriving social life, you managed to cram in some studying here and there because your mother would absolutely kill you if you lost your provost scholarship. Gifted kid burnout? Whoâs that? You never heard of her before (Just kidding, youâve had plenty of breakdowns and cry fests over calculating bond values and stock prices).
Now outside of the classroom in one of the open study alcoves, you drop your Longchamp bag on the empty chair next to you before tugging at the back of your jean skirt before carefully sitting down. You make sure to readjust your bra straps, tucking them under the ruched fabric of your white shirt. Tapping your fingers against the scratched surface of the table, you briefly admire the shimmery gold ombrĂŠ manicure adorning your nails that Jaemin had chosen last week. You pull out a compact from the inner side pocket of your purse, carefully checking your makeup to ensure it is still in pristine condition before quickly swiping in another layer of your Buxom plumping lip gloss in the best shade: fir royale.
The flurry of text messages pinging across your screen quickly catches your attention, and you tuck your mirror and tube of lip gloss away before scrolling through them, letting out a quiet scoff at Karinaâs latest melodramatic outburst in the clout chasers group chat:
[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear â¨: guys, gals, and yuckjun
[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ đŚ: what tf ??? why are you calling me out
[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear â¨: shut up or else I wonât make out with you anymore
[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ đŚ: đ¤
[ 11:46 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: are you that touch starved bro
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: anyway as i was saying
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: this skank in my marketing class has been copying my outfits and posting them on her insta and she has like 10k followers now
[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia đ: time to tear a bitch apart
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: like look at this shit
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: sent {10 images.jpeg}
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: my followers are gonna rip her apart
[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear â¨: sheâs downgrading my brand
[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia đ: dw girl iâll do a response video so my followers will see too
[ 11:48 a.m. ] princess lia đ: she canât get away with this
[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear â¨: loved a message
[ 11:48 a.m. ] somi amor đ: idk⌠theyâre similar styles but thatâs what popular rn
[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear â¨: itâs gonna be song jia 2.0 watergate
[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear â¨: just say youâre broke and go
[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear â¨: if sheâs gonna plagiarize me, she better do it right like bffr walmart versionÂ
[ 11:49 a.m. ] somi amor đ: you have proof theyâre fake?Â
[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear â¨: i mean fake bitch fake bags right
[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: idk sheâs kinda hot
[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear â¨: shut up jen be like your hairline and fall back
[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: HELLO ?! back me up yeonjun
[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ đŚ: um
[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ đŚ: đ¤
[ 11:51 a.m. ] choi YJ đŚ: if you wanna be fucking stupid then knock yourself out
[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear â¨: loved a message
[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear â¨: hey my place tonight jun đĽ°
[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: are you gonna listen to your own advice yj
[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear â¨: excuse me ????
[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: đ¤đ¤đ¤
[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur đ¤ş: proverbs 26:11
âHey, doll, whatâs so funny?âÂ
Jaemin appears next to you, and you let out a startled squeak, jumping in your seat, and he laughs, quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. You look at him wide eyed for a few seconds, his question not yet registering in your mind, and he waits patiently for your answer.
âOh!â Your eyes light up, and he smiles at the endearing sight. âJust Karina ranting about something and Yeonjun being whipped.â
âAh, so the usual?â He reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and you stand up, pulling your skirt down once more to ensure youâre covered. The two of you start to make your way out of the Langley Hall.Â
âYep. How was the midterm for you?â
He brightens up, opening the door for you and you thank him. âIt wasnât too bad at all! I actually understood like 90% of the questions and for the others, I was able to narrow down the answers between two choices, so 50/50 chance, fingers crossed I picked the right one.â
You beam when you hear that, and he returns the smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you pretend to wipe away faux tears. âI feel like a proud mom.â
âI think my mom actually will be proud,â he says, eyes scanning the cars parked on the nearby street before finding his. He grabs your hand, tugging you along. âCâmon, we gotta go celebrate that our misery is over until finals week. Plus, we gotta prep you when you talk to Hyuck.â
âWait, what?â You abruptly stop short, and he nearly loses his grip on your hand. âWhen am I talking to him?â
âThis Saturday. Youâre coming with me to the Nu Chi party, right?â
âSince when? I donât go to parties,â you protest, âTheyâre too loud and noisy, and beer is gross andââ
âYou went to the Alpha Sigma one a few weeks ago though?â Jaemin interrupts, and you shake your head. âThat was a small party though. This one is the party of the semester. What if I embarrassed myself in front of the entire school?â
âParties are the prime time for meeting people and getting to know them because alcohol makes everyone friendlier and people donât stay within their friend groups,â Jaemin interrupts. âDo you really believe that youâll get him to like you by, I donât know, one day, your eyes will meet across the classroom, and heâll fall madly in love with you? This isnât one of your fanfics, Y/N.â
âShut up,â you grumble, letting go of his hand on purpose, and he frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout before reaching out for your hand again. You swiftly dodge him, and he whines, quickly snatching your hand up and lacing your and his fingers together.
âI hope this isnât how youâll treat him on your date. Thank god weâre doing a trial run right now.â
âA trial run?â you echo him, and he nods, flashing you that favorite smile of his that never fails to make you weak in the knees.
âWell, we have to make sure your first date goes perfectly so there will be a second, right? Practice makes perfect,â he says matter-of-factly, and you nod slowly in agreement. The logic makes sense somehow.Â
âOkay, so where would you pick for a first date?â
âMaybe a cute cafe? Oh, thereâs that one place: Cloudy with a Chance of Boba!â You brighten up, thinking about that boba shopâs menu you spent a good half hour scrolling through on Yelp last night.
âMm, the most popular place right now is that ramen place on the end of Maisie Street. Itâd probably be best to go there,â he muses, tugging you along via your intertwined hands. You nearly stumble in your heeled sandals but swiftly catch yourself.
âO-oh, okay, so are we going there now?â
âNah, letâs do the ice cream place next door to it. Not really feeling noodles at the moment.â He stops to look over his shoulder at you, and you run into his back, causing him to let go before quickly reaching out and grabbing your arms to steady you. âWoah, be careful.â
âSorry.â Youâre flustered, your cheeks now growing hotter than a furnace. Jaemin reaches forward, his finger carefully swiping at the smudged lip gloss on the corner of your lip. âWhereâs your lip gloss? You should reapply this.â
Eyes widening, he then shifts and peers behind him, craning his neck to the side in all attempts to look at the back of his shirt. âThereâs not a mark on my shirt, right?âÂ
You quickly rub off any shimmery residue. âItâs fine, your shirt is dark blue, so you canât see it anymore.âÂ
âOh, good. Wait, whereâs your lip gloss?â You fish through your bag, pulling out the tube and handing it to Jaemin. He uncaps it, giving you the lower half of the gloss before gently grasping your chin with one hand. He leans forward and tilts your head towards him, his eyes focused on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach erupt in an instant. You try so hard to stand still, fidgeting with one of the rings on your finger behind your back.Â
Jaeminâs face is so close to yours that you can count every single long dark eyelash that frames his pretty eyes. His lips are the prettiest shade of carmine, and you wonder what itâs like to be Aphroditeâs favorite child. How lucky you are to already be basking in the attention of her favorite; imagine how much luckier he is to be her favorite.
The beautiful boy in front of you carefully applies the gloss for you, fully concentrating on coating your lips with a pretty sheen once again. When he glances up, heâs almost blown away by the way youâre looking at him.Â
You look stunning, pretty as a picture in VOGUE magazine. Not quite the cover page, but youâre nearly there. A swell of pride runs through his veins, like an artist admiring his latest masterpiece on show in MOMA.
âAnyway,â he clears his throat, handing back to you the lip gloss. âLetâs go. Weâre almost there.â
âAlright.â You follow behind him like a lost puppy, and he reaches back to grab your hand and interlace your fingers. Your heart nearly skips a beat as your cheeks grow warmer once again, and for a split second, you wonder if he feels the same way.
âWeâre here,â Jaemin announces, letting go of your hand to open the shopâs door, the bell above it jingling faintly as he gestures for you to go inside.
You enter the pretty shop, marveling the clean and simple interior with circular white tables and matching garden iron chairs surrounding each one. Thereâs bright greenery and plants decorating the edges of the shop, and the wall is covered in mismatched frames of paintings and pictures in various sizes and colors. The cheeky neon sign displayed near the front read, âItâs not gonna lick itself!â, and you laugh softly when you see it. The display of different colorful ice creams at the front are absolutely enticing, and youâre already struggling to decide which two flavors to pick.
You finally decide on a Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb swirl, accepting it from the cashier before you start to pull out your wallet. Before you can even pull out your card, Jaemin taps his phone against the screen, paying for both yours and his.
âNever pay on the first date,â he chides you lightly, picking up his ice cream. âAlways let the guy pay for the first date.â
âOh, but shouldnât we at least split it?â You ask sheepishly, walking towards a table near the back that he gestures towards. He follows behind you, picking up some spoons and napkins.
âIf the guy is so broke that he canât pay $7 for your ice cream, then he shouldnât be out dating anyway. He should be getting a job,â Jaemin retorts, tugging your chair out for you before sitting across from you and handing you a spoon and napkin. âDonât you watch that Shera lady? Sprinkle, sprinkle and all that jazz. Maybe you can split for the future dates, but if the guy has any basic decency, he would pay for the first one.â
âAlright, Iâll keep that in mind,â you sigh, taking a hefty scoop of your ice cream and having the first bite. Itâs delicious, and you make a mental note to buy a pint and bring back to your dorm to share with Giselle later.
The two of you continue to discuss various appropriate topics to broach on a first date (âHey Jaemin, you like cheese? My favoriteâs Gouda.â â⌠Please do not ask that.â). You quickly jot down bullet points in your Notes app, your fingers flying over the screen as Jaemin instructs you on good conversational starters and body language.
âSo you just need to touch him on his upper forearm and then pull away. Stoke his ego and say heâs funny or some shit like that. At least you donât have to force yourself to laugh with him though because Hyuck is naturally funny anyway. And heâs good at keeping up the conversation and a people person, so it wonât be awkward even for your first date,â Jaemin continues as you nod, rapidly typing what he says.
âAnd at the end of the date, touch his shoulder again, glance down at his lips for a brief second before making eye contact. If heâs bold enough, heâll go for the first kiss. But then just immediately smile and say you had a great time before he can lean in. After that, he wonât stop thinking about that moment, and itâll drive him crazy, and heâll be texting you for a second date within the next day.â
âMm, okay, I think I got it,â you mumble absentmindedly, engrossed in writing down the last few bullet points and Jaemin leans over to take a closer look at your phone, his eyes flitting over the screen.
âSo for the last point, do I have to deny the first kiss then? Smile and walk away before he leans in andâŚâÂ
You start to ask until you look up, and your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity, your and his noses almost brushing. Jaemin is so pretty, even prettier when you can count the few freckles dotting his face, can clearly see the mesmerizing golden flecks dotting his irises, can admire the way his lips look so soft and curve into the picture perfect smile. Your heart thumps wildly, nearly falling onto the floor along with your jaw when you glance up from staring at his lips and see that heâs already looking back at you with the softest expression on his face.
âYou donât have to,â Jaemin murmurs, and your heart stutters in your chest as he moves in closer, his lashes brushing against your cheek, and suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours. Theyâre pink and soft and slot perfectly against yours in a way that has your heart skipping beats and stomach doing cartwheels.
Eyes widening, you freeze up, letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, before he pulls away, giving you an amused smile. The lingering warmth on your lips makes your cheeks heat up, and you have to break eye contact, stammering over your words as you gently graze your fingers over your lips in wonderment.
Jaemin laughs softly as he leans back in his chair. âWeâll have to work on this too then. Youâre kissing like itâs a Park Shinhye kdrama.â
Youâre still dazed, cheeks growing even warmer as you avoid his gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on the hem of your skirt. âThat was my first kiss.â
Jaemin pauses at the realization, his cheeks flushing slightly before he clears his throat, giving you a half smile and a light chuckle, âOh, really? Thatâs cute, doll. Well, Iâll teach you some tips, so youâll be better at it by the time you ask Hyuck out. At least you got a decent first kiss, right? No big deal.â
âYeah, no big deal,â you echo softly, your heart still racing at breakneck speed. You pretend to focus on the remnants of your ice cream in the bottom of your paper cup, fingers gripping around the container tightly.
Jaemin was right.
You donât think youâll be able to stop thinking about this moment anytime soon.
viii. come on, barbie, letâs go party!
âAre you sure you wanna do this?â
Moon asks worriedly, helping you with your makeup as you sit, perched on the edge of your bed. She uncaps your eyeliner as Lana fusses with your shirt, smoothing out any of the wrinkles. âActually, I canât do it. You do it, Yang. Youâre an expert at this.â
âAlright, give it to me.â Yangyang comes over, grabbing the eyeliner and expertly draws on the wing above your right eye. âYears of cosplay have finally come in handy. Although, I still canât believe youâre putting in all this effort for Jaemin.â
âI need to look pretty. He usually does my makeup for me, but heâs busy right now,â you mumble, twisting the ring around your finger anxiously. âItâs my first time going to a party. I canât embarrass him when heâs a ten.â
âYeah, in rupees,â Yangyang scoffs, and Lana frowns at you, stopping in her tracks. âDon't talk about yourself like that. Youâre already pretty, and if anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with that slime ball. I canât believe he doesnât even have the decency to pick you up. Why are you the one going to his place?â
âHe has some frat meeting right now,â you answer, glancing down at your newly manicured nails. The pearl color shimmers under the light, and you canât help but admire it even more. You wish they were a little shorter, but they really do look quite pretty.
âWhat meeting? Weâre in the same frat. Also, hold still,â Yangyang huffs, holding your chin as he draws on the left wing over your eye. âWe need them to look like twins, not cousins twice removed.â
âI donât know, he just said there was some meeting,â you mumble, holding perfectly still until he finally finishes. âMaybe it was a one on one meeting or something, who knows?â
âI still think heâs shady,â Lana grumbles, and Moon nods as well. âYeah, like the first kiss thing?â
âItâs no big deal,â you wave your hand dismissively, hopping off of your bed and taking a look at yourself in your mirror. âBetter to get it over with, right? I mean, imagine being this old and not having your first kiss yet.â
âIs that what he said to you?â Moon huffs, affronted, and you shift in your place uncomfortably. âNo, of course not. Itâs justâeveryone gets their first kiss when theyâre like fourteen or fifteen, right?â
âThatâs not the point,â Lana says indignantly, tucking your hair behind your ear carefully. âYou wanted it to be special, didnât you? It just feels like⌠he took something away from you.â
âHe didnât. I wanted this,â you answer loudly, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops as you try not to think back to that moment. He kissed you, he really does like you back, he might have not said it out loud, but he knows how much it means to you (Wouldnât he?).
âOkay, as long as youâre happy,â Moon gives in, and she and Lana exchange a worried look that goes unnoticed by you. But what can they do? They can continue to try convincing you, but it will never work when it falls on deaf ears.Â
âI am,â you insist, avoiding your friendsâ gazes and staring at yourself back in the mirror. Moon attempts to lift the mood again, offering you a tentative smile in the reflection. âThis whole thing is like a whole emotional rollercoaster, and Yangyang is definitely not tall enough to ride.â
âShut the fuck up, Iâm literally almost six foot tall,â Yangyang shoots back, and you laugh, relaxing once more as you watch your friends start to bicker again.
âListen, you canât be delusional and short. Pick a struggle.â Moon counters, and Lana agrees, handing you your phone to tuck into your pocket. âSheâs right. You carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.â
You smile fondly as the bickering between your friends continues. You miss them, you realize with a jolting pang of regret, you havenât been hanging out with them as often as you used to. In fact, the majority of your weeks are spent with Jaemin and his friends.
Itâs your first cold dose of reality, and youâre hit with a startling truth. You havenât been a very good friend lately.
â
Lana drove you to the Nu Chi Theta house, and you felt like a kindergartener being dropped for her first day of school. Your face feels hot as a wave of embarrassment rushes over you as you notice the amount of glances you receive from the insanely pretty girls and boys already on the front lawn and streaming out from the front door. You quickly exit the vehicle, hurriedly waving good bye over your shoulder before making your way into the house, almost tripping over the raised walkway.
You wander around the house, searching for Jaemin and quickly sidestepping a through the couples and other students dancing around, nearly getting bowled over by someone you recognize from your schoolâs football team. He gives you a quick once over before offering a half apology, eyes set on another girl on the other side of the room. You take a deep breath before pushing your way into the next room, finally spotting Jaemin with his friends, minus Jeno and Somi, by the staircase and letting out a sigh of relief.
âHey,â you say breathlessly, squeezing through two couples busily making out in the doorway and wincing slightly when you jostle both of them, causing them to give you dirty looks before resuming their activities.Â
âOh, hi, Y/N!â Karina says brightly, giving you a perfect smile and reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. âWe didnât think youâd make it.â
âMy first frat party? Of course, I wouldnât miss it,â you laugh, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear nervously before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Jaemin gives you a small smile, and you return it with a slightly shaky one, your eyes flickering towards the fading pink, glossy lip mark staining the collar of his shirt. The color is much too dark to be Jaeminâs, and your stomach churns slightly.
âYou look so pretty, Y/N, I love the confidence,â Lia chimes in, gently pinching the fabric of your skirt between her manicured fingers. âI love this, youâll have to let me borrow it sometime.â
âOh, of course! You can borrow it anytime,â you agree quickly, flashing her a slightly forced smile before glancing over at Jaemin again, unsure what to do.
âWhere do you shop?â Yeonjun asks, glancing over at your outfit. âThe shirt is nice, too.â
âOh my god, yes, we have to go shopping together sometime, and youâll have to show me all the good places,â Karina cuts in, nudging you gently before letting out a sigh, looking over at Lia. âGod, Iâve been feeling so fat lately, like freshman twenty might be getting to me.â
âNo, same, Iâve been extending my gym sessions and doing Pilates,â Lia huffs softly, and you remain silent, switching your weight around on each foot, glancing over at Jaemin helplessly.
âI need another drink. You coming, Y/N?â Jaemin finally speaks up before brushing past Yeonjun, and you hurriedly follow behind him, careful not to fall behind or get swept away. He quickly pushes through to the kitchen, finding a spot next to the counter covered in various bottles of cheap alcohol and stacks of red solo cups dispersed in between.
âYou want one?â Jaemin asks, extending a shot of vodka he just poured out towards you, and you shake your head before he gives a wry smile. âYou sure? Itâll help with the nerves. You were shaking back there.â
Your cheeks grow warm. âYou noticed?â
âEverybody noticed,â he snorted, handing you the cup, and you wince slightly before holding your nose and downing it in one go. âGive me another then.â
âAtta girl,â Jaemin hands you another shot and you take that one just as quickly, making a face that causes him to smile subconsciously. As he pours himself a cup of beer, he spots Donghyuck by the pool out back, and a knot settles in his stomach uncomfortably. He almost doesnât want to tell you, and he doesnât know why. Itâs just because he worked so hard to make you look this good, and his loudmouth friend gets to reap all the benefits, he tells himself, taking a swig of his drink, Donghyuck doesnât know how lucky he is.
Ignoring all the stop signs and whistles going off in his head, he gestures towards Donghyuck outside, clenching the red cup in his hand a little tighter than normal. âThereâs your chance. Gotta do it before the alcohol wears off.â
âOh, um, actually, I wanted to talk to you,â you stammer out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear again (Itâs one of your habits when youâre nervous, and he thinks it might be his favorite). He pushes down the growing knot in his stomach.
âWeâll talk later, yeah? You canât miss this,â Jaemin insists before nudging you in the direction of the pool outside despite your soft protests.
âW-wait, IÂ jusââ you say desperately, but Jaemin merely waves you off before disappearing back into the party inside. You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. You wouldnât want to disappoint him after all the effort he put in these past four weeks.
Youâll tell him later.
â
âOh? Whereâs your little Barbie doll, Jaemin?â Karina simpers as she lazily taps her pretty manicured nails against the half filled red solo cup in her other hand when Jaemin returns to his original spot. âHave you gotten bored of playing with her yet?â
âItâs not like that,â Jaemin answers hotly, âSheâs⌠fun. She makes me laugh.â
âHow? By looking at her?â Yeonjun snorts, chugging his own cup before crinkling it in his fist. Jaemin wants to throw up. âWe thought you just did this because youâve been having a dry spell and were bored. Where is she anyway?
 âSheâs talking to Hyuck right now,â Jaemin mumbles meekly, shoulders slightly hunched over as he stares into the depths of his own solo cup.
âReally? I mean, is she even his type?â Lia asks skeptically, straightening up in her spot to see if she can spot you or Donghyuck anywhere. âIf anything, I thought her friendâthe pretty English major oneâwould be his type. How is she anyoneâs type?â
âHey, he turned her from a four to a solid eight. She might even go up half a point once you introduce her to an exercise and diet plan.â Karina says offhandedly, raising her cup towards him in mock salute before taking a sip.
âYeah, how are you going to do that? Itâs not like you can even sugarcoat it for her because then sheâd eat it too,â Yeonjun throws out with a smirk, and Jaemin feels sick to his stomach, the nauseating feeling growing exponentially and gnawing at him as his friend continues, âI mean sheâs probably already on the seafood diet because she sees any food and just eats it. How can you even stand her, Jae? The way she just follows you around like a puppy. Isnât it annoying?â
âGod, I know, the way she basically chases after us like a lap dog is so pathetic. At least she takes good insta pics for us though, so sheâs somewhat useful. But we had that one really good group photo at that last party, and she totally ruined the picture. You canât even crop her out because she had to stand next to you, Jae,â Lia complains, rolling her eyes, and Karina laughs, taking out her phone and scrolling through her photos.
âOh my god, I know the exact photo youâre talking about. Itâs this one, right? She practically threw herself into your arms,â She flashes her screen towards the group, and Jaemin wants to shrink and crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was it the best photo of you? No. Was it the worst? Maybe close to it. Youâre standing sideways and still taking up more space in the photo than the others, and the flash photography did not do any favors for you. You stand out even worse than Will Smith in the sunflower costume meme. He cringes inwardly, noting the way your skirt had rolled up and youâre smiling a little too widely. He makes a mental note to help you practice better, more flattering poses later on.
âYou know that famous baby hippo? Moo Deng? I think we found her twin from the future,â Yeonjun barks out a laugh, reaching over and zooming in on you as Karina smirks before putting away her phone. Lia giggles and glances over at Jaemin, scrutinizing his reaction before a sly expression makes an appearance on her face, saying coyly, âYou have a crush on her, donât you?â
Jaemin flushes, embarrassment coating his cheeks, and he immediately snaps, âShut up, I might be lonely, but Iâm not desperaââ
âOh, Y/N!â Lia says loudly, effectively cutting Jaemin short. âHow did it go? Are you and Hyuck gonna be the new couple on campus?â
Immediately, his heart drops even further to his stomach, and Jaemin whirls around to see you standing a few feet away. Did Lia know you were there? How long were you standing there? Did you hear them? Did you hear every horrible thing they said about you?
âOh, Donghyuck said he wasnât interested, but he was nice about it,â you say, offering a vague smile in Jaeminâs direction, and he nearly breathes a sigh of relief as his heart starts to slow back down to its normal rate. A part of him is glad that Donghyuck rejected you, and he nearly misses what you say next, too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling.
âI think Iâm going to head back to my dorm. Iâm a little tired. Thank you for inviting me.â
With that, you turn away and walk off, but something still doesnât feel right to Jaemin. Itâs a split second decision but for once, he puts his heart over his mind and chases after you, ignoring the increasing whispers from his friends and their eyes searing into his back.
ix. raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by na jaemin.
Jaemin is right on your heels the entire time you walk back to your dorm. All he receives is stony silence from you that he fills with babbling nonsense, asking you whatâs wrong to no avail. When you finally enter your dorm, you turn to him at last, and he perks up. However, the two words that come out of your mouth have him deflating faster than Yangyangâs ego when Alice called him a shitty kisser with too much saliva (âYouâre supposed to make me wet down there, not up here. Honestly, dude, if I wanted to drown myself, I wouldâve jumped into the ocean.â).
âWeâre done.â
You decide to bite the bullet.
After freeing your feet from their pointy death contraptions, you peel off each layer of clothing one by one, unzipping the mini skirt and kicking it away before tugging at the spandex, unleashing the breath youâve been holding in since 8 a.m. to fit into it. Thereâs still indents marking the dips in your waist and your thighs, a lasting reminder that stays like an embarrassing stain. You fling that abhorrent piece of elastic elsewhere, and it falls near the end of your bed, out of sight behind the pile of textbooks you havenât touched for the past three days.
âHold on, what are you talking about? We made so much progress. You wanted to do this,â Jaemin protests, following after you and picking up the discarded garments you threw haphazardly. He waves around the skirt like a white flag. âYou wanted to be in the popular crowd, and you got it. Youâre this close to dating Hyuck. Yeah, he mightâve said no now, but weâll come up with a new planâYou can bounce back from this! Why are you quitting now?â
Removing the off-the-shoulder pink top that restricts your arm movement, you quickly slip on an oversized sweater before reaching back and unhooking the strapless bra whose underwire has been digging into your ribs for so many hours, a sigh of relief escaping between your teeth. You toss it onto your chair without another care in the world, and it lands next to the shirt in a heap.
âBecause this isnât me. This isnât what I like.â
âOf course, it is. This is still you: just new and improved,â he insists, frantically attempting to hand you your discarded shirt and pleather skirt. You ignore them, opting to pull out and put on your favorite pair of stretched out gym shorts from middle school that you had shoved in the back of your closet to make room for all the flashy clothing Jaemin picked out for you. âWeâre having fun. Youâre popular and pretty now. Youâre almost dating Donghyuck. You have everything that everyone wants. Youâre the girl the boys want to be with, the girl all the other girls want to be.â
You shake your head, reaching for the packet of makeup wipes near your sink. âItâs not what I want.â
Jaemin scoffs, âDonât be ridiculous. What are you talking about? This is what you asked me to do.â
You throw him a scathing glare, and he takes a step back. âGod, Jaemin, for once in your life, take off the stupid rose colored heart shades, and youâll finally see all the red flags around you.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Jaemin asks defensively. He thought everything was going according to plan; heâs going to pass macroeconomics, and you got to talk to Donghyuck and are this close to scoring a date with him. People notice you wherever you go, the two of you receive compliments, his friends like you, everyone likes you.
âI have to pretend to like things I hate and hate the things I like. I have to do things a certain way, act a certain way, pretend this is all effortless. I donât know if people are being genuine or pretending like I am. I hate thisâthis fake version of me.â You spit the words out like fuel to a fire, and you stand there in all your blazing glory, ugly uniform shorts and all.
âMy thighs keep chafing. My feet have blisters everyday from these boots. This foundation makes me break out even more, and I canât type up my notes in class or write fast enough because of these nails, and my grades almost took a plunge. Iâm basically freezing my tits off out there in a shirt I donât like. The lashes make my eyes itch, and this skirt is so short that I have to keep pulling it down every five seconds before I end up flashing someone.â
You donât recognize the girl in your mirror anymore. You pluck off the falsies lining your eyes, scrubbing furiously at the layers of expensive brand name makeup covering your skin. You wipe off every inch of it until your bare face stares back at you, slightly puffy, blemishes, faded acne scars and all. You feel like you can breathe a little better now.
âDid you really think itâs easy being one of us? Do you think people will notice you if you show up in sweats with Cheetos stains?â Jaemin stares at you incredulously. âThis is how it is. I donât get why youâre throwing it all away like this.â
âAnd yet, you were all for it when I threw away everything before.â
âBecause you asked for it! You asked me toâto make you into someone Donghyuck would date!â
âYou donât get it.â You whirl around on your heels to face him instead of the mirror, and the anger and intensity laced in your voice nearly blows him away. âI like myself the way I am. I never hated myself. I may be insecure about how I look sometimes, but who isnât? Yeah, I like wearing cherry lip gloss and mascara sometimes. Itâs fun trying out new hairstyles and clothes and learning to do better makeup. I like getting dressed up for special occasions. I like doing these things on my own terms. But this? What Iâm doing to myself right now? This isnât the same. Am I supposed to keep up this charade for the rest of my life? If I do eventually go out with Donghyuck, am I gonna have to keep lying to him? To everyone? I want people to like me for me. To actually know me.â
âIf this is how you feel, then why would you keep doing this?! If you hate it so much, then why?â Heâs frustrated, carding his fingers through his hair as he canât wrap his mind around the fact that youâre angry over this. You look gorgeous, so whatâs the problem?
âBecause I liked spending time with you!â you burst out, âI never liked DonghyuckâI liked you. I wanted it to be you. It was fun at first, I did like it at first, but I canât keep doing this. I canât keep pretending to be someone Iâm not. I canât be friends with someone whoâs ashamed of me.â
Thereâs a jolt in his heart when he hears your confession, but the second jolt comes quickly afterwards at your last words. Denial is the first stage of grief, and he pales at your final declaration. âWhat are you talking about? This whole thing is so that Donghââ
âOh, please. You can drop the act. This isnât about Donghyuck anymore. This is about you being too embarrassed to be seen with someone who doesnât fit your aesthetics.â You air quote the last word for emphasis, and his jaw tightens at that. âYouâd rather drop dead than go out with a four like me, right?â You smile sardonically at him. âI may be a four on a seafood diet, but my ears work perfectly fine, Jaemin.â
You heard it all, and Jaemin feels like he is going to throw up. All he can do is scramble and grasp for the last remaining straws, protesting vehemently, âI wasnât the one who said any of that!â
You laugh humorlessly, âIs that supposed to make it better? Youâre better than them because you didnât say it out loud? You didnât deny it or defend me either, so whatâs your point?Â
His mouth goes dry, and he opens and shuts it several times. Swallowing harshly, he barely manages to croak out a weak reply. âThatâsâ I didnât meanâI only really thought that before I knew you.â
âAnd thatâs just it, isnât it? You already judged me before you even knew me based on how I look. Even now, you still judge me.â He starts to open his mouth again, but you merely shrug as if youâve accepted this for all your life, and he closes it meekly, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, unable to meet your eyes
âThatâs okay. Iâm used to it. Thatâs how it is for people like me. I know Iâm not someone people fall head over heels for immediately. Iâm the one who reaches out to people first. Guys donât fall over at my feet, wanting to carry my books to class for me. The pretty girls ask me to take their Insta pictures for them. I donât get free drinks at the bar or invited to all the parties. Iâve never been asked out by a total stranger, and no one writes their number on my cup of coffee,â you say matter-of-factly, a resigned smile on your face, and it has him curling into himself internally, his conscience slowly eating away at him.
âAnd you know what?â you continue, âThat's life. Thatâs okay because Iâm happy with who I am. I like who I am. If I have to give myself up to get Donghyuck or you to like me, then heâsâyouâare not the one. I shouldnât change who I am for a boyâor anyone for that matter.â
âThatâs notâWe were doing this for you. You wanted⌠you wanted this makeover. You wanted this.â Heâs desperately clutching onto the end of the rope, and youâre holding the scissors to cut it off. You show him another half smile, one that doesnât quite reach your eyes.
âIt stopped being about me. It started being about what you wanted, what you liked, what you wanted me to be. I was your charity case, your little Barbie doll.â
You tilt your head to the side, studying the boy in front of you and he silently squirms under your scrutiny. âTell me one thing, and be honest. Did you even know I existed before Donghyuck mentioned me as a tutoring option? Before you needed me for a grade booster? Would you have liked me then?â
Would you have liked me then? Your question echoes in his mind, and Jaemin freezes, dropping the clothes in his hands. You know. You know he likes you, and the embarrassment creeps up on him in the form of carmine dusting his ears and cheeks, like spilled wine on white linen.
âThere are over one hundred students in the class,â he objects. âSorry for not fighting my way through all of them to find you and have a crush on you sooner.â
Jaemin seems to not realize that he just confirmed his feelings for you aloud, and perhaps, if he had told you this a few weeks ago, you would have been ecstatic and called up Lana and Moon the second he was out of earshot. But this is now, and youâve grown exponentially since then.
You give him a wistful smile, and as the dread piles up in the pit of his stomach, he knows this is the start of his downfall (or perhaps, heâs already been falling this entire time). He slipped from the pedestal already long ago, and itâs only a matter of time before he hits rock bottom. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall from grace.
âI sat in front of you diagonally. You asked me to pass notes to my friend. You know, the girl who sat next to me? Alice? The one you asked out and went on a few dates with at the beginning of the semester?â You state the facts calmly, and his eyes widen at that. âItâs okay. But you mustâve remembered that we were in the same group for a presentation last semester, right?â
Jaemin stays silent, and you have your answer. Itâs one youâve known deep down in your heart all this time, but that doesnât mean it doesnât hurt any less. After all, someone can announce theyâre going to punch you, you can even see the strike coming to your gut, but simply knowing doesnât do anything to ease the painful aftermath.
You chuckle humorlessly, fingers uncurling and recurling into fists as your nails press moon shaped crescents into your palms before you look him straight in the eyes. âI donât fit into your cookie cutter life or match your rose colored Instagram filters. I donât have the perfect model figure or the perfect face. I donât look like the girl of your dreams, and I know that it just fucking kills you inside that you fell in love with me.â
Jaemin flinches, curling in on himself when he finally meets your gaze and finally sees the absolute hell fires of fury and repugnance ablaze in your eyes. You know that he loves you, and heâs ashamed that youâre right. Youâre absolutely right.
Why is he so afraid of loving you?
He loves how smart you are, how witty you are, how funny you are, how genuine you are, how you understand every obscure Haikyuu!! reference he makes, how you laugh at his jokes, how you dm him the funniest memes on Instagram, how you wear your purple scrunchie around your wrist during every exam for good luck and how you let him borrow it too. He loves how you treat him as more than just a pretty face, how you actually listen to him and make him feel like what he says matters, how you make him feel differentâspecialâlike he doesnât have to compete with all the other Barbies and Kens out there. Heâs much too vain, much too superficial, much too selfish, much too proud to admit it out loud, but heâs in love with you, and yet, he canât bring himself to love every single part of you.
And the truth of that matter is the ugliest of all.
But there are standards that he has to uphold, why canât you understand this? He lowered his standards for you, and you still couldnât meet them. You have the personality already, you are this close to being the ideal girl, and well, you both have to make changes. Itâs the prince and princess who live happily ever after, not the prince and the pauper, or god forbid, the ogre (No offense, Shrek). This is real life, and society has unspoken rules. He sacrificed so much for you, he put his reputation on the line, so why couldnât you do this for him? After all, love always has some sacrifices.
Right?
But when Jaemin looks at you now, thereâs everything, but love staring back at him. You look at him like heâs a repulsive piece of chewed gum stubbornly stuck to the bottom of your Steve Madden heel. It strikes a nerve and completely eats him to the core, but he pulls himself upright because nobody talks to him like that, nobody looks at him like that, certainly not someone like you. He invented you, he made you into the next Princess Mia, the next Cady Heron, the next Serena van der Woodsen, and this is how you show your gratitude?
âOh, youâve got to be shitting me. You act like Iâm the first person to judge first based on looks. Everyone does it. Am I supposed to strike up a conversation with every girl on the off chance sheâs everything I want? Do you think anyone would fall for you immediately when you looked like that? The saying is âlove at first sightâ, unless youâre one to believe in the whole âlove is blindâ idea, which you clearly do,â Jaemin snaps, sneering as he eyes you up and down. His heart and mind are screaming, crying, begging for him to stop, but his pride dropkicks him headfirst into the hole he dug for himself, raging for him to get the upper hand again.
âHow is it my fault for not knowing youâre the whole package when the wrapping doesnât match the contents?â
The unfiltered words slip out of his mouth, and he immediately regrets it, closing his eyes, but itâs too late. He sees the instant look of devastation that appears on your face, and it hits him like a boxerâs punch to the chest. He starts to backtrack to no avail. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.
âI am never going to be enough for you, am I?â you whisper, your breaths stuttering in your chest as your initial sarcasm turns into quiet truths now that eat away at him. âIâm either too much or too little. Thereâs always going to be something youâll want to change, something you want to fix.â
âY/N⌠I⌠Iâm sorry, I didnât mean that. It was an accident. I justââ
Jaemin canât continue on, his voice trailing off as he doesnât know what to say. He wants to keep apologizing, heâll do anything it takes to take back what he just said, but the damage has already been dealt. Heâs always known heâs an asshole, sure, but this is beyond anything heâs ever said or done in the past. He just secured the seat of honor in Dante's ninth circle of hell, and thereâs no return ticket.
âYou just what? You thought it would be okay to say anything to my face just because itâs not up to your standards?â
Jaemin���s face pales. âN-no, Iâthis isnât how it's supposed to go, I justâIt just slipped out, can we start over?âÂ
A public rejection from any boy or girl would hurt infinitely less than the words Jaemin spat in your face. The things that his friends said before within earshot? You could take it because you couldnât care less about them at the end of the day. But this? This was coming from someone you trusted, someone you care about, someone you lovâNo, you donât even want to think about that.
Jaemin never loved you. He never even liked you. The harsh reality slaps you like a cold shower in the middle of a winter night, and you want to curl up into a ball under your covers and cry until you fall asleep.
And yet, you will not let him humiliate you any longer. The spell has been broken. Cinderella is back to her rags, and her Prince Charming is nowhere to be found. Sheâs stuck as a toad thatâll never change. Eyes watering, you inhale sharply, laughing quietly in disbelief before you straighten up and your face hardens.
âAre you actually listening to yourself? You think we can start over? You treat people like theyâre disposable, like theyâre nothing, and once they donât match with your theme of the week, you toss them even faster than the time it takes for you to choose an outfit.â Your chest is heaving, and the tears threaten to fall, but you push on, swallowing the lump in your throat. He reaches out for you, and you take a step back, shaking your head.
âYou canât hurt people and expect them to just let it go. I get it, I know Iâm not the thinnest, or the nicest, or the funniest, or the smartest, or the prettiest. I know that Iâm hard to love. I get it, Jaemin. Iâve always known that.â
You choke on the last sentence, swallowing hard to stifle the hiccup that bubbles up in your throat. âBut that doesnât give you the right to treat me like shit.â
Rapidly blinking back your tears, you march over to your door and throw it open with such force that the doorknob could have left a dent in the wall. You donât want to cry, youâve always been an angry crier, and you desperately want the tears to stop. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry and hearing your confession. He doesnât deserve any of that. Jaemin doesnât deserve your tears, and he certainly doesnât deserve your love.
âGet out.â
Jaemin stares at you, mouth agape like a fish on land. You gesture heatedly towards the outside, choking slightly. âWhat are you waiting for? I said get out.â
âY/N, Iââ
âAm I a joke to you?â you quietly ask, and his eyes widen.
âNo! No, Y/N, youâre not, I jusââ
A single tear manages to escape despite your best, frustrated efforts, and Jaemin instinctively reaches out for you. You swat his hand away, angrily swiping away the stray droplet with the sleeve of your sweater. His heart wrenches in his chest as his hand dangles limply by his side. Youâre crying because of him. He caused that, and he feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world.
You refuse to let any more fall, glaring at him through the unshed tears and entirely disgusted with the boy standing in front of you. âDonât touch me. Iâm not crying for you. Iâm crying because Iâm so angry I wasted all my time on someone who never cared about me.â
Thatâs not trueâI love you, he wants to say, but his mouth refuses to form the words because his pride wonât loosen its grip on his heart. He loves you, heâs in love with you, why canât you see that?
You steel yourself, taking one shaky breath before looking pointedly at the door and repeating yourself, âGet out. Leave me alone.â
Numbly, he makes his way over to the door, ears ringing. You glower at him, the intensity searing and digging into the side of his face. When he stands outside of your dorm, he struggles to turn around and face you helplessly. Your eyes soften for a moment, and it shoves the dagger deeper into his chest when he recognizes that look. Itâs the same look he wore when he first saw you, and the shame that emerges nearly chokes him. The mixture of pity and disappointment painted across your face revolts him entirely, and he feels like heâs going to vomit. Jaemin is utterly humiliated.
Your gaze intensifies once more when you stand up to your full height, stare unwavering and chin raised up. Gripping the doorframe tightly, you drive the final words into his heart like a stake.
âI am too good for you, Jaemin, and I will never love someone like you. I deserve better.â
And for a split second, you almost convinced yourself when you said that.
You shut the door in his face.
Jaemin calls your name through the door several times, desperation ringing clear in his tone, but it falls on deaf ears. Apologies are a foolâs best friend, and youâd be a fool yourself to believe them. Holding your breath, you wait until you hear his footsteps echo down the hallway, until the solitude greets you like an old friend. And at last, you drop the facade and let yourself cry. Back pressed against the door and head bowed, you finally let go until all the tears are gone and youâre gasping for breath, the quiet hiccups and sobs bursting forth and breaking the silence in the same way he broke your heart over and over again.
You love him.
Thereâs no one to blame, but yourself. In the end, itâs all your fault that you were in this mess. How can you be so stupid? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it would still be a pig. Built up insecurities will bubble up to the surface no matter how much mascara and blush you apply. The warning signs were all there in flashing technicolor, but they were all tied up with shiny ribbons and deceiving perfect smiles. They lit up your usual drab life of blacks, whites, and grays, and you were blinded by the glitz and glamorâ blinded by him. It is hard to see the red flags and stop signs through the rose colored Instagram filters. You trusted him and gave him your heart when you shouldâve known itâd end like this.Â
You got greedy and tried to steal the spotlight, and you received it, front and center. You are the joke. You are the punchline, the comedic relief, the center stage of a slapstick comedy show. This is what you get for going off script.
Because you love him.
You were supposed to continue to delude yourself into thinking that you donât want to find love, that you enjoy being on your own, that you enjoy being single, that you are perfectly content with never experiencing romance instead of facing the cold harsh reality head on: no one sees you as desirable or dateable. And when your friends tell you that youâre not missing out on anything with dating, you were supposed to nod and agree, when secretly, you desperately wish you can experience that for yourself instead of living vicariously through your friendsâ love lives or the 3 a.m. scrollings through cheesy romance fanfiction on Tumblr. Youâre been fine all these years, havenât you? You were doing so well living on your own.
But you love him.
Itâll come when you least expect it, thatâs what they tell you every time, but what are you to do when you canât help but expect it your whole life? What are you to do when you so desperately want to know what it feels like to be loved in that way? God, when is it going to be your turn? When is it your turn to daydream about someone and know that theyâre daydreaming about you too? When is it your turn to have someone walk you home? When is it your turn to hold hands with someone? When is it your turn to feel the giddy butterflies and experience a good night kiss? When is it your turn to be kissed in the rain? When is it your turn to experience the romance you can only dream about?
How much longer will you have to be patient? How much longer do you have to wait, living in denial over the soul crushing reality of it all? How many more stars do you need to wish upon until you learn to accept the painstaking truth? You werenât meant to be loved in this lifetime.
God, you love him.
Itâs embarrassing when it shouldnât be. You just want to be touched by hands that care, loved by a heart that beats for you, desired by someone who thinks you are enough. Itâs the way you would give up ten years of your life in a heartbeat to experience being the prettiest girl in the room just once and have people look at you. The overwhelming shame washes over you when you never had your first kiss until now with a boy who never cared about you, never went on a date before, never had a boyfriend before, and you have to lie and say itâs by choice when itâs not. Itâs not. You have so much love to give, you have so much space in your life to share, you have so much time to spend with that special someone, but the grains of the hourglass are spent waiting and longing for a stranger who will never come.Â
The thought of it all just makes you sick. It makes you sick that you wish so terribly that someone would just look in your direction for once. For once, you want to be looked at in that way like all the female protagonists experience in the movies. And you know your value shouldnât be based on desire and objectification, you absolutely know it, but it still hurts when you go out with your friends and youâre the one dancing alone or sitting back and watching the purses. Youâre the one standing there by yourself, while every single one of your pretty friends is being approached by someone. It still hurts so fucking bad when you try to put yourself out there, but guys have already moved past you or donât even acknowledge your existence simply because of your face or a number on a scale. And when he came into your life and gave you one measly ounce of attention, you ran with it when you should have run away. Itâs absolutely exhausting, leaving you out of breath and on the verge of throwing up, to chase after someone who never even looked at you, to chase after their attention, praying to god that theyâll one day make you feel like you are worth it, that youâll finally feel some sort of value.
Forget ever being loved, you werenât even wanted.
There is no such thing as happily ever afterâs for the extras. Girls like you donât get to star in love stories. Why did you ever think it would end differently?
You love him.
And he ruined you. Even worse, you let him.
You wish you never met Na Jaemin.
x. i canât go out tonight. *fake coughs* iâm sick.
You would like to give a formal apology to Bella Swan for not understanding why she was so depressed over Edward leaving her for six months and making fun of her. In your defense, you were like nine years old when the movie came out, and you were more interested in Barbies back then (Plus, you were Team Jacob because you wanted a pet dog at the time).
You didnât even go through a break up, but it sure as hell feels like one.
You probably would continue to wallow in your misery for weeks, clutching onto the only two men you could ever trust in your entire life: Ben and Jerryâs while watching every iconic 90s and early 2000s rom-coms on repeat if it werenât for your best friends. But enough is enough, and you get that you shouldnât be spending weeks crying over a boy who hasnât even spent one second thinking about you. Itâs just hard to take that first step back up again when you feel like you tripped and fell all the way down to rock bottom.
And so, you finally let your friends into your shared dorm room, and you definitely do not miss the poorly disguised look of disgust and shock when they see the giant mess on your side of the room (Youâre very grateful that Giselle has been staying at her boyfriendâs place for weeks now). Itâs an intervention at this pointâone that you desperately need, and you know it.
âOkay, give it to me straight,â you sniffle, still wrapped up in your comforter like a giant burrito and clutching onto the ice cream carton like a lifeline. You know that your friends will just rip it off like a bandage, and you have mentally prepared yourself for it. Your voice comes out wobbly still from the tears, and you hate it. âI know I was stupid for letting a guy walk all over me like that. I know if any of you were in this situation, Iâd tell you that youâre better than that and to get over him, but itâs just so hard to do it.â
âHe who shall not be named is a scumbag, and Iâm gonna kill him the next time I see him,â Lana states, pursing her lips together. âI hope he has a bad hair day every single day because I know heâd be screaming, crying, throwing up if he could never get a perfect selfie ever again.â
You choke back a sob, giving her a watery smile. âThat would destroy him.â
âGood. Fuck him. Metaphorically, not literally. Why should you care if you are the girl of his dreams or not? Be the girl of your dreams. Youâre gorgeous, smart, and funny and heâs just some guy who still doesnât know how to use the correct âyourâ in an Instagram caption.â
You can write down a thousand and one reasons why he was the most horrendous, most awful, most vile person to ever grace your life. But at the end of the day, why does it matter? What good would it do? You still love him, and thatâs the worst pill to swallow.
âI justâIâm having a hard time believing that.â
âY/N, if you believed that Jaemin wasnât a shitbag for the past four weeks and all the time before that in his life, then you can believe in yourself right now for two minutes and listen to me,â Lana says firmly, clutching onto your shoulders and forcing you to look her in the eye as she continues on, âRemember the Barbie movie? Heâs just Ken. Ken doesnât have a good day unless Barbie looks at him.â
âYeah, like channel your inner Gina Linetti. Listen to Chelsea Peretti. âMen used to hunt.â Whatâs Jaemin doing? Heâs pushing twenty and doing aegyo on camera,â Moon chimes in, and Lana nods furiously in agreement before elbowing Yangyang in his rib not-so-subtly. âContribute to the conversation, Yang.â
âHold on, Iâm thinking,â Yangyang says, pausing in the middle of your room and placing his hands on his hips.
âOh congrats, I didnât know you could do that. But stop because youâre not good at it at all,â Moon says, completely ignoring the dirty look he throws at her immediately. The little exchange brings a small smile to your face and it feels nice to laugh. Youâve forgotten how to do that. You miss your friends. Youâre grateful for them for not giving up on you when you already have.
âCome on, letâs go see âCrazy Rich Asians.â Itâll be fun. We can watch Lana fangirl over seeing her favorite actor,â Moon encourages you, and Yangyang nods in agreement. âYeah, she picked a better man after the Jaehyun fiasco.â
âOh my god, let it go. I didnât like him that much,â Lana huffs softly, grabbing one of your spare pillows and launching it square into his face in retaliation, and he lets out out a high pitched shriek that makes you giggle.
âWerenât you gonna go see it with your best friend, Yang?â You ask, glancing over at him and he shakes his head, a slightly sour expression on his face. âNah, sheâs going with Dejun already.â
âSo unfortunately, weâre stuck with him now,â Moon says solemnly as Yangyang immediately throws her a dirty look. The look on his face makes you laugh, and it makes you feel a little better and your heart a little lighter.
You shouldnât have to beg someone to love you; the right person will never make you beg. The right person would never chip away at you, erasing different parts of you, until you fit their picture perfect mold, until thereâs nothing left of you. You would never have to call your friends at 4 am, drunk and crying for their validation, praying to whatever higher being is up there for them to take you back. Your friends have never looked at the scars and freckles dotting your skin and suddenly deemed you as unlovable. Your best friend wouldnât call you fat and point out every single one of your insecurities. You are not unlovable because you decided to eat a third taco or decided to not wear makeup today or didnât shave your legs. You may fight with your parents and siblings, but never once have you felt unloved by them. Never once did you have to get on your knees and plead for them to love you back.
You know you are worthy of love because your friends and family make it look so easy. They have shown you what love is really like time and time again. Youâve been a shitty friend these past few months, prioritizing a boy over the ones who really matter. Theyâve been so patient with you this entire time, and with an open heart, you realize that it is time you finally start properly loving them and yourself too.
You are loved.
xi. thatâs so not fetch!
Jaemin slinks out of the lecture hall, noting the dirty looks your friends have sent him from the other side of the room. Heâs been standing outside of the classroom before the session starts for the past few weeks in hopes of catching you, looking like a complete creep (and definitely feeling like one). But whatâs he to do when you wouldnât return any of his texts or calls? Itâs humiliating, and he feels smaller than an ant under a microscope.
He pretends to leave class early, staking out in the bathroom across from the classroom. Counting down the minutes, he sees the first wave of students pouring out from the classrooms and finally spots you. His heart jumps to his throat, and his hands begin to grow clammy.
Youâre back to wearing your loose jeans and basic t-shirts, your favorite purple scrunchie wrapped around your wrist and an old Jansport backpack slung over your shoulder, decorated with pins of all those familiar characters from his favorite anime. Your face is bare, aside from tinted lip balm, and youâre smiling. Youâre laughing at something your friend next to you says, and with a sinking heart, Jaemin realizes that perhaps maybe you are pretty in the slightest way.
He finds himself taking one step towards you, then another, maneuvering around the other students rushing to leave. Heâs getting closer and closer, if he called out your name, you would hear him. But you wouldnât stop for him this time. He knows that.
Jaemin is getting closer, just a few more steps until he can just stretch his hand out and tap your shoulder, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest until a pretty manicured hand grabs his upper arm lightly.
âJaemin? What are you doing here?âÂ
He pauses, turning around and seeing Somi staring back at him in surprise as she continues, âI thought you donât have any classes at this time.â
âYeah, Iââ he hesitates, glancing over at your retreating figure and Somi follows his gaze, her eyes softening as she lets go of his arm.
âOh, were you waiting for her? Sorry about that,â she apologizes, pulling away and he shakes his head, shrinking back. Maybe it was for the better that you got away. Itâs probably a sign from the universe telling him to let it go.
âNo, itâs okay. She doesnât want to talk to me anyway,â Jaemin admits at last, starting to slink off, and Somi furrows her eyebrows, a puzzled expression gracing her face as she hurries slightly to catch up with him, matching his pace. He exits the building, crushing the graded economics midterm with a red 89 circled at the top in his fist and shoving it haphazardly into the side pocket of his backpack usually reserved for his water bottle.
âWhat are you talking about? The two of you are practically glued at the hip. She adores you,â she laughs softly, tilting her head slightly as she glances over at him. He ignores her look, continuing on his way off of campus and towards his safe haven: a small dog friendly boba shop snug in between a bookstore and a 24 hour laundromat he frequents more often than he likes to admit.
 âI honestly thought youâd ask her out at some point.â
Jaemin winces at that, her light response rubbing salt into his open wounds, stitches torn and bleeding, and he spits out the next words defensively, his pride rearing its ugly head again. âNo way. I never liked her like that. Sheâs not my type at all. Have you seen her?â
âWhat is wrong with you?â Somi frowns at him, stopping in her tracks, and he halts, unable to look at her and throwing out a dismissive âWhat?â In her direction.
âWhy are you talking about her like that? I thought you liked her,â she answers, staring at him in disbelief, and he curls his fingers into fists, gripping tightly as a multitude of conflicting emotions war inside of him. He starts to walk again, barely glancing over at Somi.
âShe was just my tutor. I passed my midterm, so I donât need to be around her anymore.â He responds weakly, uncurling and recurling his fingers into fists as he desperately tries to stay calm.
It was so much easier to pretend around his other friends. Aside from Jeno, they always took his words at face value, never one to pry. And Jeno would never push him, knowing that he would eventually come to him at his own pace. But Somi? Heâs forgotten about how she can be after sheâs been so busy with her schedule, missing out from the majority of hang outs for her social work and events, and their class schedules never overlapped. She can spot a lie a mile away. She actually cares. In a way, she reminds him of you, and he canât bear to meet her gaze anymore.
âSheâs your friend,â Somi retorts, following him into the boba shop, briefly stopping to pet the adorable Samoyed wagging its tail near the entrance. âYou spent more time with her than any of us, except maybe Jeno. And you werenât just studying in the library. Iâve seen her on your finsta and close friend stories.â
âOkay, and now sheâs not. Sheâs not my friend anymore,â Jaemin answers sharply, punching his order into the self service machine. âIt happens. People stop being friends. So back off, Somi.â
âJeez, what is your problem?â she snaps back, following him towards the back, settling on a pillow in one of the comfortable nooks converted into a small seating area across from him. âI caught you following Y/N, and now you say youâre not friends?â
Jaemin hesitates, fiddling with one of the decorative pillows in his lap. âWe got into an argument.â
âYeah, but friends fight. You can apologize, right?â
Jaemin is silent.
Somi stares at him, and he wants to curl into himself. Itâs the very same look you gave him before you shut the door in his face, and he feels the bile in his throat already. Her voice is quiet. âJaemin, what did you do?â
âIâ,â he whispers, breaking off and clenching his fists. He is already replaying that moment in his head, seeing the look of utter devastation on your face, and he wants to run away. The ugly truth is front and center, and he is unable to ignore it any longer.
 âI fucked up, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?â Jaemin bursts out, burying his face in his hands and unable to face his friend. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. âI said some shitty things to her, some really fucked up stuff.â
âLike fucked up as in messy drunk thoughts or fucked up, fucked up?â Somi says softly, hesitantly, as if she doesnât want to believe her friend is the worst of the worst. Jaeminâs heart sinks even lower than rock bottom as he continues to hang his head low.
âIâŚâ Jaeminâs voice is less than a whisper as he finally confesses the horrible truth to someone for the first time. His voice cracks as he recalls every single disgusting thing and insecurity he flung back into your face.
âI said that it would be stupid for her to believe in love at first sight, that she wasnât up to my standards, that itâs her fault, that I was ashamed of her, ashamed that I even liked her because of the way she looked.â
The silence is deafening, and Jaemin feels the same wave of humiliation wash over him as it did on that very night. Somi is speechless, and he canât bear to look at her, one hundred percent knowing that there would be a raw look of utter disgust and horror on her face because that is the exact way he would look at himself. He sits there in silence as the guilt and shame pile up even higher; he is past the point of wallowing in self pity, already drowning and gasping for breath.
âJaemin⌠she was your friend,â she murmurs, gazing at him, mouth agape as the shock finally settles in, and he flinches slightly at the past tense. âShe actually cared about you. She made you happy.â
âI know,â he says softly.
âShe was the best thing that ever happened to you.â Somi continues quietly.
Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. âI know.â
âThen why?â
Because I was stupid, he thinks silently, Because I am a coward. Because she embarrassed me. She made me feel small. She made me feel insignificant. She made me look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, I absolutely hated what I saw staring back at me.
âI donât know,â Jaemin whispers, staring down at his lap in resignation and unable to swallow the truth.
He knows.
xii. you canât sit with us.
You continue to avoid Jaemin in Macroeconomics, choosing to slip into class at the very last minute. You see him waiting in front of the classroom every session for the past three weeks, searching for you, but you opt to go to the professorâs office hours every time before class and end up walking with her to class as she answers your questions about the assigned readings and problems. Alice saves you a seat in the front row, and you never told her but youâre grateful when you realize she must have asked her other friends to sit around the two of you, effectively barricading Jaemin from any attempt at sitting next to you. Finals week comes and goes with the winter break following suit, and you think he has finally given up on any attempt at reaching you.
But life has an unfortunate penchant for bringing up thingsâor peopleâyou wish to forget when you least expect it. It was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday four weeks into the spring semester, and youâre exiting your last class of the day, tucking your laptop into the cute tote bag you bought from the New York Strands bookstore as you walk across campus.
âY/N.â Jaemin appears in front of you, and suddenly, all the air in your lungs seem to have been sucked out. Itâs almost embarrassing how two months of self progress can be toppled over as easily as a house of cards. Your brain says to hate him, but one glance at him still has you weak in the knees. You take a deep breath, counting to three before walking around and ignoring him entirely.
âPlease, can we just talk for five minutes? Iâm sorry.â He desperately reaches out for you, and you can see some people starting to take note of the two of you, their gazes on your back.
âLeave me alone, Jaemin.â You continue to walk away, hiking up the strap of your bag higher over your shoulder, desperately trying to quell the stupid colony of butterflies in your stomach that have laid dormant for so long. âI donât want to talk to you.â
âPlease, just five minutesâthree minutesâand Iâll leave you alone forever. Listen to me,â he says in a quiet tone. It was an order, a request, and a plea all at once.
You pause, scrutinizing him for a few moments before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from prying eyes. You stop on the secluded side of the building underneath the magnolia trees before dropping his hand. âYou have two minutes. Talk.â
âIâm an idiot.â
âGood to know youâre self aware. Youâre finally experiencing some character growth.â
Jaemin grimaces at your stony expression. âOkay, that was deserved. I truly am sorry, Y/N. Itâs my fault, I shouldnât have lashed out at you, and Iâm an asshole who took advantage of you. You do deserve better. You deserve someone better than me. But I want to be that person. You make me a better person.â
You stay quiet, and Jaemin fidgets around. âIs that⌠is that okay? I know itâs selfish of me, butââ
âYouâre right, that is selfish of you.â
Jaemin falls silent at that, face flushing before he speaks up meekly, âCanât we start over? Try again?â
In that moment, you truly pity the boy in front of you. The lost expression on his face tells it all as he desperately clutches onto whatever lifeline youâre willing to toss out. But heâs causing you to drown, and you need to cut the cord and put yourself first for once. Maybe you can change him. But you canât do this to yourself again.
You take a deep breath and pinch yourself, reminding yourself that this is the same boy who broke your heart because it wasnât pretty enough for him. âThere is no trying again. You never tried, and Iâm done trying for you. Jaemin, you donât love me. Youâve never felt that way towards me.â
âYes, I have! I do! I really do,â he protests, and you shake your head, taking a step back. He starts to take one step forward towards you and hesitates, staying in his original spot. Your gaze is cold, and he finds himself wishing that you would look at him in the way you used to.
âYou love the idea of me: the one you built up in your head,â you say, tone growing quiet. âBut Iâm nothing like her. To some degree, I think I might be the first genuine connection you ever made with a girl. You liked the way I felt about you and how I acted for you. I changed everything about myself for you, I wouldâve followed you anywhere, I wouldâve done anything for you, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of the fact that I love you.â
You may not truly know what love is, but you know itâs something he never gave you. It stings, knowing that even after all of this, you still secretly, desperately long for the type of love you know will always be out of your reach. A part of you wants to believe him, but this time, you listen to your mind instead of your heart.
Jaeminâs head shoots up at your confession, eyes widening in belated realization, and you curl your lips inward, biting your lower lip. You love him. You love him, he now knows, and to your surprise, it didnât hurt as much as you thought it would. Three steps forward and two steps back is still one step in the right direction.
âOne day, youâre gonna find someone whoâs finally enough for youâsomeone whoâs worth making pancakes for,â you say wistfully, pausing for a minute before gathering the courage to continue.
âAnd youâre gonna fall in love with them. Like really love them. Youâre gonna love them so much that youâll try your hardest to be enough for them. Youâre gonna try so fucking hard to be the one they want, the one they love, that youâll do anything for them. Youâll even change yourself for betterâor for worse.â You grip the strap of your tote bag even tighter, a dull pang in your heart making its appearance, and Jaemin winces, lowering his eyes as the regret and guilt pools into his stomach.
âBut sometimes, it wonât be enough. Itâs not going to be enough,â you continue, swallowing hard. âAnd itâll never be enough for them. Youâre willing to move heaven and earth for them, but they wonât notice. Or maybe they donât even care. No matter how hard you try to love them, it wonât matter unless they want you. Unless they choose you. And itâll hurt like hell. Itâll hurt every single time you see them, every time you hear them, every time you think of them.â
Your voice softens, shaking slightly as you take in a wavering breath before pushing forward. âAnd when it hurts, youâre going to think of me. Youâre going to remember me because thatâs when youâll understand what it feels like. Thatâs when youâll know how I felt. How it feels to not be enough. How it feels to have your heart ripped to shreds by someone you care aboutâsomeone you love.â
His heart drops, and you give him a wistful smile before it quickly disappears, and your expression schools into one of indifference. You continue to walk forward confidently, brushing past his frozen figure. You see your friends waiting for you on the other side of the lawn, and you look over your shoulder at Jaemin one last time, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself.
âAnd you know what? I hope to fucking god it hurts you as much as you hurt me.â
The world continues to spin, you keep moving forward, and he remains rooted in his spot, unable to look away from you. There are so many Barbies and Kens out there, so many more Na Jaemins who will come into your life and sweep you off your feet, and youâll make them feel special and more than a pretty face, he belatedly realizes, heâs disposable and so easily replaceable, but thereâs only ever going to be one you.Â
As he watches you walk away, Jaemin thinks he is starting to understand.
EPILOGUE.
Life likes to play cruel jokes, and the senior year gives you the most hilarious one of all in the form of your final capstone project. Last you heard about Jaemin, he had switched his major to pre med (which was ironic to you since that field would require him to care about other people, which he clearly proved to be incapable of). However, your university decided to implement a cross collaboration between the various schools, and itâs just your luck that you find yourself paired up with Jaemin. Giving him a tight smile as you take a seat across from him in the library room he reserved, you take out your laptop.
Jaemin had asked earlier if you wanted to request a new assigned partner, but you highly doubt any professor would switch up a pairing on account of one person being guilty of being the greatest asshole to ever exist (Plus, youâll come across many guys like him in your field of work, so you might as well start building up your tolerance now).
It is the final time you will meet up with him before the big presentation, and the two of you work together in silence, only breaking it to discuss the project topic. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled somewhere in betweenâkind of like a purgatory for relationships. Youâve stopped thinking about him a while ago already, but seeing someone who once was a part of your life always brings back memories, whether wanted or not.
âI met someone.â
Jaemin breaks the ice, unable to hold it back any longer. He feels like heâs going to explode if he doesn't get this off of his chest. There is a slight pause in your writing before you resume, but he knows you are listening.
âI met her after⌠after ourâŚâ He trails off. He doesnât know what to call itâwhat the two of you had. An almost relationship. â⌠After us.â
You continue to write, taking note of several points to be discussed based on your slide. He puts down his pen, clasping his hands together as he fiddles with one of the rings wrapped around his fingers.
âI made her blueberry pancakes.â
You sharply inhale for a brief millisecond before you jot down another bullet point. One, two, three, four, five bullet points until you can breathe normally again. Youâre twenty two years old, but you suddenly feel like youâre eighteen again. You sometimes loathed your younger self, but because of her, you learned so many things (Forgiveness is one of them).
âI donât know what else to do, except keep making her pancakes.â Jaemin sits there idly for a few moments, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil, before he laughs derisively, âSheâs in love with my best friend. She never told me, but I can just tell.â
Thereâs another pause from him. Staring down at his notebook, he swallows hard, the lump in his throat never fully going away. His voice cracks as he whispers out his question:
âDoes it ever stop hurting?â
Your pen stops moving across the paper, dropping to the side. Thereâs a black scribble from where it fell. You still continue to look at the index card, focusing on the college ruled lines until they become a mosaic blur of blue, black, and white.
âEventually.â
Your tone is impassive, and his head snaps up at your reply. You pick up the pen again. You donât look at him, but you know heâs staring at you, an unrecognizable expression in his eyes.
Perhaps, it would have been different if you had met the present day him back then instead. Perhaps, it wouldâve worked out. Maybe he would have made another girl fall in love with him, broke her heart, and come out unscathed. Or maybe he would still be the same as his past self if he hadnât met you. Itâs the butterfly effect; you donât know what would have happened, but you donât care. Not anymore.
By now, you have mourned him for longer than you have loved him.
âY/N, you were never hard to love. I was bad at loving. Iâm sorry for hurting you.â
And this time, you know he truly means itâthat Jaemin truly understands. It is good that he has learned and tried to become a better person. You just wish it didnât have to come at the expense of you.
Your first love teaches you what love isnât.
The threads holding the pieces of your heart together these past three years have always been so fragile. Just one tug at the heart strings, and everything unravels so easily, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. Youâve nearly forgotten what heartbreak feels like, the old wounds opening up for a long forgotten friend that you had prayed you would never meet again.
You discover that it hurts even more the second time around.
âI wish I fell in love with you back then.â
His tone is forlorn, a silent resolution wrapped in happenstance. You continue to write down more notes for your part of the presentation, the soft scritches of your pen against paper almost masking your quiet response, and Jaemin nearly misses it.
âSo did I.â
#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#nct fluff#nct angst#jaemin fluff#jaemin angst#jaemin x reader#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct fanfic#nct fic#jaemin fic#jaemin#na jaemin#nct dream#nct#luvpuffcore collab
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.ăťCollege Ellie Headcannonsăăť
Note: This is more loser Ellie-centric, I wanna maybe do a part two with just reader and her. Some sexual content and mentions of getting zooted below so 18+ warning!
â˘Art major, but sheâs not the typical hot artsy lesbian you dream of her to be. More like rolls a fat blunt and sketches in her journal, itâll either turn out to be a masterpiece or look like a crackhead had a go with her paper.
â˘Speaking of art major, when sheâs horny and frustrated because she refuses to hook-upâŚshe draws the lewdest art known to woman-kind. Those are her real masterpieces, but she canât exactly turn them in for credit in her art class, can she? Fuck, the things that woman can make, though. Lowkey uses her exes naked bodies as inspiration though, maybe kind of weird but whoâs gonna stop her?
â˘Doesnât eat the food on campus half the time. She is embarrassingly addicted to Tai Pei containers and the occasional microwavable egg-roll. âThat shitâs nasty, Ellie! Goddamn, just eat the Tacos 4 Life we have on campus.â Her friends will all tell her, but no. Itâs like a guilty pleasure. Maybe itâs cause she grew up lower class and is used to TV dinners, has a special trauma bond to food that should be banned and probably is outside of America.
â˘Wardrobe consists of band tees, honorable mentions to Gorillaz and Falling in Reverse.
â˘Is actually an insanely talented writer. After reading her journals I feel like nobody talks about how emotional her entries are and she keeps a journal of her own in college for sure, not only for sketching and organizing art but also to write all her feelings out.
âFuck me, this is my last year being gay.â -After her and Catâs break-up, probably.
â˘Hates coffee. Definitely game-cannon, but this is important to the college setting. Itâs the classic Monster or nothing, and she will absolutely judge you for drinking coffee. She calls it âthe devilâs dirt.â So dramatic.
â˘Used to watch bad Hallmark movies because of Dina, now watches them alone because she misses Dina. Thereâs nothing like crying your eyes out to Christmas Under Wraps!
â˘Has a collection of rubber ducks on her shelf. Doesnât use her very small space for normal things like her wallet or books, no. Itâs rubber fucking ducks.
â˘Also has a slipper collection in her tiny closet, from Pikachu all the way to dinosaur feet.
â˘Has the âtwo-seaterâ t-shirt (iykyk) but refuses to wear it in public because sheâs a pussy
â˘Favorite fruit is grapes. I just know my girl loves grapes when she can get her hands on them steer clear bc she will NOT share. Favorite candy is gummy worms!
â˘Actually wears rain boots when itâs wet outside or snowing
â˘Likes wired earbuds over airpods, listens to Pearl Jam when she misses living with Joel
â˘Is oddly good at making those little paper stars and has a huge grocery bag of then in all different patterns and colors
â˘When she starts dating you she shows you her dinosaur cookie-cutter collection because you're really good at baking. (Also bc she wants to see you in a frilly cute apron!)
â˘Is a slut for hugs. Kisses are cool, sex is great but agghhh Ellie just loves wrapping her arms around you and sometimes when you two are in her dorm she'll just hug you for what feels like hours on end, she calls it her 'weekly therapy.'
â˘Loves high sex because when she's sober she hates feeling like she's awkward or all up in her head. She also has a tendency to invite you over for sex after smoking.
â˘Has a septum piercing. Maybe this one is self-indulgent because I would go ballistic over seeing actual Ellie with one, but I say that college Ellie got hers pierced at 16 and didn't cry over the pain but wanted to literally jump off of a bridge the entire healing process it was so bad.
â˘Sometimes when you kiss her, her septum will slide over and look uneven and she feels fucking NIGERIA FALLS in her boxers when you fix it for her. Also for those of you who are sluts for glasses, you can fix her glasses too and it'll make her just as weak.
#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#the last of us part 2#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams au#ellie headcanons
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i. imgonnagetyouback
The one and only son of the Gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. Years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back.
contents. modern au, gojo satoru x reader, angst, not proofread.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back
next chapter
It was pathetic. The sight of Gojo Satoru, a well-respected son of the Gojo clan, was down on his knees right in front of you, begging you to stay, a daughter of a mere servant.
It made him look pitiful and weak, a miserable prince who had his heart shattered by a low class woman like you. But he didn't really give it that much of a thought, ever since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't care what people might've said from the very first time, and he proved it to you a million times as he stubbornly and desperately showed you how much he loves and adores you. So, begging down on his knees is not that much of a deal now, no?
âStand up, please.â
But you were firm, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You hated seeing him like this, but you were left with no other choice. Your love for him could risk even the dangers of your life, and you were sacrificing him to save him.
âI do not wish to be with you any longer, Young Master.â You said, uttering his title in a whisper. âWhat we had was wrong. It was a mistake on my side. And I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a pathetic infatuation and I realised that another man best suits me, and it's not you.â
Your words were nonstop, every single thing that you uttered was shattering his heart into pieces. But Satoru furiously shakes his head, his hands trembling on your lap as his forehead falls on your knees.
âT-thatâs not⌠T-that's not trueâŚâ
You remembered everything from that day. Every little detail, every word, every touch, every action, of what had happened stayed forever in your mind. It never fails to shatter you. To make you cry every single time that you thought about him as you lie in the confinements of your small room.
âI have done what you asked for. What else do I need to doââ A whimper escaped your lips as a hand flew over your cheek. Breathing heavily, you felt the sting on your skin as you looked back at the person who had been the cause of your pain.
âPack your things, and never show your face again.â
Gojo Satoru haunted your dreams and nightmares. He managed his way in your heart, and refused to leave. He was the ghost of your tragic love story, you could only wish that you never should've picked up the pen. It's already been two years since you left, and even until now, your heart only beats for one man and it will always be for Satoru.
So what are you going to do when he comes up at your door, claiming what used to be his?
It all happened so fast that your head can't fathom how you ended back to the place of your nightmares. The Gojo clan's mansion. The place where it all started between the two of you.
Every corner of this place was filled with memories of you and Satoru, all the good and bad. But what you remembered most was the torture, the consequences you had faced for falling in love. You felt like all your scars were slowly tearing apart, opening the wound that was almost healed as you looked back to the man who stood in front of you.
You never should've been back in this place.
âI expect you to work immediately.â Satoru's voice was different. It was laced with authority and demand, not the sweet ones that you remember back when he was yours. âRemember, your family is in the palm of my hands. Try to escape, and you'll face the consequences.â
His eyes looked at you with anger, a pent up emotion that he bottled up all these years. His hands were balled on a fist by his sides, almost trembling, but he wouldn't let you see just how much you still have an effect on him.
Right now, all he feels is anger and hatred for what you did. For leaving him. For running off with another man. For loving him only to break his heart. For letting him hold on to your empty promises.
For those two years, he only loathed you and he's not going to be a forgiving man, he'll make sure you regret. He'll make you beg on his knees, the way he did for you.
âI expect you to be in my office in five.â
Now, you're back to square one. Working as his maid was already bad enough back then, so what's going to happen now that you're back to serve him again?
You can't help but notice how much he changed. Somehow, you can tell that he was still the same, only that he was only mad at you. It was obvious already how he's showing indifference only to you but not to anyone else. His bubbly personality that used to welcome you with warm embraces is now replaced with an angry demeanour of a man who cold-heartedly took you away from your family and took you back to the house where you suffered.
How unfair.
This was not your Satoru.
As soon as Satoru turned around and left you standing, he heaved out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest. For the first time since you left, he finally felt his heart beating again.
All throughout those years that you were gone, he relentlessly looked for you. Trying to search your face in unfamiliar places, sometimes getting himself into trouble when he mistakes someone for you. Everyday, he was turning angrier and angrier when you never showed up, while all he needed was proper answers and explanations. He hated all the memory that you had left, and how it tore him to pieces that all of it was just a lie.
He couldn't believe you had the nerve. A woman like you with no name for herself, telling him that a relationship with him was just a mistake as you sought another man. Gojo Satoru was everything anyone could have asked for, so how dare a woman like you? How dare a woman he lovedâŚ
Everything comes crashing down into his mind once again. From the first time he saw you and how you've caught his eye. His heart starts to beat frantically, his breath caught into his chest, his tongue tied together. Satoru slumps into his chair as he closes his eyes, letting the memory sink in.
âWho is that woman?â Satoru asked an older servant, seeing your unfamiliar face walking around the garden in a maid uniform as he stared down at you from his window.
âThat's [M/L/N]âs daughter. She's here to take her place while her mother is recovering.â The servant answered as she poured him tea.
Satoru watched as you walked quietly, your movements looked calculated and careful. He watched your finger touch a ragged cloth, gracefully cleaning the dirty tables.
From afar, he can see how your skin looked soft and pale. You were a bit thin and looked weak. He can only assume that he could break you with one twist.
Your face didn't have any emotion in it which intrigued him. Even your lips were downturned, like you hated every second of working in his place. You caught his attention in a matter of seconds, a curiosity growing inside him while he watched your every move.
He noticed the way your mood changed when his family's dog, a small golden retriever, came running to you. A smile formed into your face and he swore he could feel all the flowers blooming all around the place. Everything seemed to have lighted up, his heart began to drum in his chest as you kneeled down to the dog, petting and rubbing the cute animal between your hands.
What's so fascinating about you?
He swallowed hard. Satoru felt like a teenage boy realising that he was staring a little too hard. He felt like a stalker for watching you, shivering at his thoughts.
But he wanted to meet you. Something was pulling him to be close to your presence. A magnetic force was drawing him to come near, and it was the very first time that he ever felt like this.
But he'll take his time first. For now, he's going to settle on just watching you from afar, memorising every detail of you, until he is ready.
A knock on the door woke Satoru back to his senses. He straightened up on his seat, erasing the memories out of his head as he coughed. âCome in.â
But how can Satoru completely forget?
You walked inside in your maid uniform, the same dress that you used to wear, and it only took Satoru a matter of seconds for all your pasts to remind him of how much he loved you. He felt a pain in his chest, and for a moment, he wanted to fall back on his knees and beg for you to love him again. But even you had changed.
Satoru was also back to square one. He looks at you, reminded of the first time he had seen your face. The lack of emotion, the frown, the gaze that used to intimidate him, and the wall you had built between the two of you was palpable.
âTake a seat.â Satoru gestured over the chair in front of his table.
He watched you carefully as you stepped inside his office, striding forward with a sense of hurry as you obviously refused to seat. You stood in front of him, an emotion in your eyes that he can't seem to read.
âI have to get back to my familyââ
âThey are fine.â Satoru immediately cut you off, his voice ringing over your ear. He looked at you with a glare, venom laced in his voice as he says, âYou are bound to stay here, as I said soââ
âYou can't keep me here!â
Your scream shocked the both of you, but Satoru kept a straight face as he stood up slowly. He chuckled with malice, staring at your helpless state.
âWhat makes you say that I can't?â He smirked. âI own you now. Every single thing that's yours is also mine, even your family.â
Your eyes fell to the floor, your hands trembling at your side. Your knees felt weak underneath his gaze, burning and crushing your soul.
Everything he said was true. You were in so much debt ever since you left the Gojo mansion, your family almost falling apart if he didn't show up to take you. And now he's claiming every single bit of what's yours, not leaving a single piece behind.
Satoru made it clear when he took you here. He'll pay for everything to save you and your family. Your mother's hospital bill, your father's gambling debts, your brother's education, their food, house, electricity, and all their livings, because you couldn't pay them off by yourself.
So now you're trapped. He's got you wrapped around his fingers.
âYou need me, Y/N.â You closed your eyes at his voice, shaking your head in denial. âYou can't afford to live without me, and that's the truth.â
It was the truth, Satoru taking her away from her old life.
You were doing just fine when he was gone. But now you don't know anymore.
this is the part 1 of my mini (?) gojo series! i hope you'd like it and anticipate for what's next to come đĽşđŤśđť [M/L/N] also stand for "mother's last name" in case you didn't knowww ^.^ I also hoped you understood the flashbacks and such.
this is just a prologue of the main story, sooo the real story starts at part 2.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#satorugojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#satoru angst#satoru jjk#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu#jujutsu kaien modern au#jjk modern au#jjk fic#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x oc#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru angst#Spotify#taste of sky âď¸
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{MINGYU} FIC RECOMMENDATIONS
áŻâ
VOL. 1
(note; each volume has 15 fic recs)
[a] - angst
[f] - fluff
[s] - smut
â hits different â by @gyuswhore
Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape. Or; in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off. | 40k [a, f]
â creep â by @smileysuh
âIf the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - youâre saying you wouldnât watch me get naked every day?â Heâs definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. Thereâs no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders arenât the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. | 9.1k [s]
â untitled â by @tonicandjins
2.6k [a]
â one last time â by @tonicandjins
you receive an invitation for the worst day of your life. | 10.9k [a]
â right time â by @thedensworld
you both were too young when you get together, right person-wrong time. Two years after break up, destiny brought you two again. | ? [a]
â did you hear what the rumor said? â by @97linelover
Dating as Idols means, keeping it a secret. Rumors will spread, people will get hurt. What if this one Rumor brings you over the edge and you no longer can handle this Secret? | 1.4k [a, f]
â beautiful liar â by @onlymingyus
Kim Mingyu's life has always been complicated, but you just add another layer. At least he is a beautiful liar. | 25.6k [a, f]
â thirsty â by @cheolism
joshua sends you a photo of your boyfriend wearing a tank top while working out and you just can't help but thirst. | 5.2k [s]
â goodbye â by @tonicandjins
3.1k [a]
â evening glow â by @cheolhub
you're having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better. | 4.5k [s, a, f]
â statistically speaking â by @gyuswhore
In all your years of academic endurance, you've never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn't know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,...it could. | 21k [s, a, f]
â mingyu is so mean when heâs horny â by @gyuspell
? [s]
â backburner â by @saythenametotheworld
There is a rule of thumb for casual relationships: do not fall in love with the other. Yet with Mingyu, it felt easier to watch the world burn than to stop yourself from falling for him. | 21k [f, a, s]
â still yours â by @number1mingyustan
When you're with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You've got your own little bubble that's immune to reality where he's just yours. | 5.1k [f, s]
â i can do it for you â by @hoshifighting
After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch. | 8k [s, f]
#svt fanfic#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt smut#svt x reader#svt fic#svt fic recs#seventeen#seventeen x reader#mingyu svt#svt scenarios#svt carat#svt#svt mingyu#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenarios#mingyu smut#mingyu seventeen#mingyu kim#kim mingyu#mingyu fic#mingyu x reader#mingyu fanfic#mingyu#mingyu fic recs#mingyu fluff#mingyu ff#wonwoo seventeen#jeon wonwoo
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