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#i don't want to seem entitled!!!! i really don't!!!! i completely get it when people don't like my stuff that's fine

manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x farleigh start #oliver quick smut #farleigh start smut #farleigh smut #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh x reader x oliver #manic writer

699 notes · View notes

naomiarai · 6 months

Text

Conscious – cbg.

Synopsis : Your best friend's idea for trying to help you stay awake for your finals might be a bit twisted right?

Pairing : beomgyu × afab!reader [non idol au]

Wc : 1.6k

Warnings : dom! gyu, sub!reader, praise, pet names (princess, angel, pretty girl), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Disclaimer : the lovely anon who sent an drabble on this. it got deleted, but I decided to write a fic on it. [I wrote this in one sitting while I was drunk so..]

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Finals week was up tight for you. You swore you'd fail if you don't stay up all night studying. Hell that's not seeming to work

Luckily, you had someone to pent up with your version of opposite-insomnia. Beomgyu is annoying, but you still want him around. He's probably the only one keeping you sane when you keep falling asleep instead of racing your eyes on words.

You've managed the ones you couldn't avoid and here you are with the last one. Beomgyu seems careless today. He's sprawled up over your living room couch, his legs crossing over yours. Laptop situated on your lap, your eyes kept closing, only something that touched you lightly jolted you awake.

You scream out in frustration, muttering numerous curse words to yourself. Beomgyu jolts up, wide-eyed. A frown forming on his face.

“Your opera made me lose my game!” he says with an annoying tone. “Gyu, that's the least of my worries right now, I keep fucking falling asleep.” you reply back, clenching your teeth. “Don't disrespect your elders now” he says with a grin on his face. Beomgyu was a year older than you, but that doesn't give him a pass to act so entitled to his age when you act up.

“Nothing's working. I stopped taking melatonin, and all tube lights are turned on” you admit in a low voice. “ I don't get how you fall asleep that easy now. You had insomnia level 100 when you were little” he says in a wondering tone. You groan at him, wishing it were the complete opposite now.

"You know, I heard endorphins can keep you awake” he blurts out randomly. You turn your head towards him, with a small frown on your face. "Endorphins?” you ask. “Yeah, they keep some people awake”. Why did he sound so suspicious? “They're found in chocolate, laughing, listening to music...sex..”

You choked on air as you heard his last word. Sex? Now that's a fact. You haven't had sex in quite some time now...

Beomgyu looks at your bewildered face and scoffs. “What? It's true” he says. He thinks for a split second before he asks “Speaking of sex, when was your last time?” How did he sound so casual? "W-..why are you even asking?, i had two boyfriends in the past soo..” you randomly cut of, going into thought.

“Right, the first guy, who was it? Ah- Jaehoon! An asshole if you ask me” he sounded annoyed saying it even though it didn't look like it. You could tell. But why? “second..was Sunghyun? I didn't like him either” he says as he puts his fingers underneath his chin.

“Why the fuck are you going over my history of boyfriends? ” you ask. Also, he sounded weird talking about Sunghyun as well. He replies after a pause, “Which one actually made you cum?” you froze at his words. Does he actually know what he's saying? “Beomgyu!” you scream, “Why would you even ask?!”

“Oh, so none of them did?” he asks curiously. “Nevermind, ________ just tell me”. You think on his words, the only thing you never told Beomgyu was about your sex life. It's not like he asked anyway. "I-..I've had sex like twice...?” you mumble. He looked puzzled, “Don't tell you've only that two times of sex in only one relationship that lasted like, two and half years..? He got his answer, just because you didn't say anything.

He scoffs out laughing, “Did you cum at least?” he asks with a sigh. You pause for sometime.. was it really that embarrassing? “N-no”. You get back to your senses, getting angrier by the second. “But what does that have to do with me falling asleep?” you retort. “Absolutely nothing!”.

He has that shit-eating grin on his face. God, you just want to wipe it off with a kiss. Wait. What were you thinking? No.

“I'm just saying you know, it works like this, you overwork and start falling asleep too easy then I tell you that sex produces endorphins and they help you stay awake, anddd, he adds, dragging the d sound, you haven't had proper sex”

You roll your eyes at his explanation like it didn't mean anything. It doesn't. ”You're acting like I could go get dick just because I keep falling asleep” you reply back. “It's not like I have a boyfriend now, Gyu” you add on.

“But I'm right here”. He says ever so slowly. You're taken aback, frozen still in your place. “What the fuck are you even saying?” you say, almost whispering. His face and tone remain nonchalant, contradictory to yours. “You say you have no boyfriends, right?, and I'm probably the only guy you talk to”

Should you say yes? It's once and he'll probably never ask again. And he's kind of cute. You'd date him. But you would never tell him this. No, but you did get braver at the moment.

“Is this your excuse at asking if you could fuck me?” you ask calming yourself down with a laugh laced in your voice. He seems to take your presence in for a moment. “Did it work?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“If you want it to” you say quickly before you could do anymore pausing. His grin grows bigger; he slides the laptop off your lap and places it on the transparent coffee table with a soft thud. Connecting his lips with yours, you moan into the kiss at the sudden feeling. His arms wrap around your waist as you sit straight up. “Strawberry?” he asks tasting your chapstick. You simply nod, cupping his cheeks to resume the kiss. “Woah, looks who's actually eager here” he laughs.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, having your legs on his both his sides. You break the kiss saying, “Not on the bed, I don't have new sheets ready” He chuckles at your prediction. “Who said it had to be on the bed?” He sits back down, with you still straddling his lap. His hands slip underneath your shirt, cold hands caressing your warm body. “I didn't expect you to agree so easily” he asks continuing to kiss your neck. “W-...well you did something about those endorphins...” you whisper. He laughs at you, quite obvious he hadn't bought it.

You sit up straight on his lap for a second, thinking. “But won't we make a mess on the couch?” you ask expendentaly. “If you let me go inside..?” he asks with a smirk. You slap his chest multiple times, his idea has some structural value to not making a mess but won't it.... leak out? God, no you should never think dirty. At least you won't have to change the bed sheets.

He claims your lips again in passionate kiss, hands going down to remove your sweatpants. Your left in a crop top and panties. What a sight. He breaks the kiss to lay you down on the couch. “I'll make you cum, astonishing you never have after you had sex twice” he says dramatically. You roll your eyes at him, to which he scoffed at in a high pitched voice. “Just wait, I'll make you roll your eyes for a valid reason” he says before undoing his belt and discarding his jeans and boxers.

You tried to look away. He had a pretty dick. But will it even fit? “Don't look away at the man who's going to fuck you now” he says playfully, hovering above you. You stare at him for a couple seconds, taking in his features. He moves your panties to the side, taking a look at your glistening pussy. “Need to prep you, angel” he says. Taking his fingers closer, he slips in a finger, extremely tight unsurprisingly. “You groan at the sudden feeling, he adds another finger stretching your walls out, you feel pleasure slowly forming from the slight pain. He continue s to stretch you out, with you letting out loud moans form time to time. He retrieves his fingers back just when you're legs shook. You look at him confused.

“I'm only having you cum on my cock” he says before slipping his hands underneath your shirt and removing your bra. He starts to play with your hardened nipples with slick covered fingers, to which you would scold him for, but it felt too good.

He pulls his hands back, spreading your legs open and removing your panties whole. “Ready princess?” he asks softly to which you nod slowly. He enters you with ease,, still going slowly. You feel so so full. He groans out loud, he mutters a 'so tight' before slowly thrusting in and out. “Mmnh–ngh fuck–” you moan out, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit, making your roll your eyes back. His pace gets faster, so as his grunts and your moans. “Shit–pretty–you feel s-so good” he grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin takes over your senses, raw pleasure filling you. “Don't stop! nngh– so s-so good!”

The wet and lewd sounds of his dick going in and out get louder, as he slowed down, dick starting to twitch slightly inside of you. You felt a firework inside your stomach, like a coil so desperate to burst. You think you're about to cum. “G-gyu, think I'm gonna cum fuck—!” you moan. “Yeah? cum for me princess, g-good girl aren't you? cream all over my cock-!” You feel his cockhead slowly hitbyour cervix with each slow thrust as you feel the coil in your stomach collapse, coming all over his cock.

He came after you, filling you up, and it leaked out onto the couch. “That was great” he blurts out tired. You slowly recover form your orgasm, getting back to your senses. “Is this going to be a one time thing or—” You're cut off with a kiss, him saying “Absolutely not. I'm keeping you angel” you simply smile at him.

“But gyu didn't you tell sex kind of helps you stay awake, I really don't think that's for me..?” He takes in your words, “It is for some people...” he says before his eyes light up with a grin plastered on hif face. “So round two?”

563 notes · View notes

nyanggk · 2 years

Text

PICTURE PERFECT: PARK JAYS F*CK LIST — p. js

SYNOPSIS park jay is known around your campus as a resident fuck boy. him and his friends compete in a game wherein by the end of the year, they have to complete their fuck list in order to win, but what happens when jay meets a girl who can resist his charms?

PAIRING rugby player jay × art club member reader

GENRE smut with plot, highschool au, romance , enemies to lovers, romance comedy kinda

WARNING(S) profanity, dark humour, discrimination, dubcon, alcohol consumption, bullying, smut, dom/sub dynamics (sub!jay, dom!reader), making out, corruption, degradation, male masturbarion, oral, nude painting, bulge kink, marking

WC. 28k+

— this is suppsoed to be stereotypical, yes ㅠㅠ it isn't meant to be misogynistic. it's just the world I built them in. yn/I literally stated that this is her highschool and this is what she noticed. don't send asks if you're gonna go through with it with anonymous.

In all the years you spent dwelling inside the same old boring highschool, you've come to the conclusion that in every campus, there's always three breeds of people paying amongst you that seem to avoid the brink of extinction; the slutty cheerleaders, the attention seeking fangirls, the ones that annoy you, the varsity jocks.

These varsity players are your typical ball heads who have their minds wrapped around the game and only the game. They're one way ticket to college is their varsity scholarship and inevitably making the dull-witted excuse to throw away everything related to academics and instead, centering their focus on their balls. It's stereotypical for you to say that, you acknowledge that for sure, but you can't help but speak the truth as most, if not, all of them are the same.

Albeit, yes, these are the usual qualities found in these ball fondlers, but there's a different kind laying amongst these godforesaken creatures that's even more toxic, more abominable, and those are the varsity fuckboys.

These varsity fuckboys are always entitled, period. There's never a day in their lives where they don't stop talking about their latest slutty agendas or how awestrickingly good they are at playing the game. It also doesn't really help how their fan base— which consists of ignorant, ovulating, and in heat females, not only throw compliments their way, but also themselves at every passing moment towards these good for nothing jocks. It's as if these people have lost all sense of their humanity and became objects that do nothing but lurk around the school grounds, waiting to be inserted with a schlong and become teenage mothers.

Do they even have a sense of self respect anymore?

Going back on track, it's a great dismay that all these complimenting words go straight to their head, making it even bigger.

Shame that not one ounce of it went to their dicks.

In accordance to that, yearly, these pubescent rats participate in an event called "Picture Perfect" wherein they hand pick at least more than ten different names of those who study in their school who, by the end of the year, they have to "connect" with. They mix them inside a bowl and let each one of them draw one by one. Once that person has their own paper, they have a set of rules they have to follow;

disclaimer, as per everyone's agreement and preference, only girls will be put on the list.

1. For proof, take a picture of the girl in bed or wherever while the two of you are fucking.

2. Threesomes are allowed if both players have the same person on their list.

3. Varsity players with girlfriends can't participate— unless you're Jake. We don't want to be caught in your drama.

4. First one to complete their list is the winner.

5. Failure to comply with these rules will get you disqualified from the competition indefinitely.

With that said, they have the whole school year to finish this list. Now, a year may seem too long for some, however, with the mix of competitions and practices, there's only a handful of times in a week that these boys can have a day off and hunt for their prey.

No one remembers when this whole shenanigans started nor do they remember who started it, the only thing that matters is the game and who comes out on top. They take this seriously— too seriously, you think.

For the record, they say that this game is only for fun and that no one should take it all too seriously when they lose. The prize is an ego boost for christ sake so which logical person would try so hard in such an idiotic game? If that's what you thought then you're clearly a normal person with a normal thought process along with a naturally working brain. However, it's safe to say that if you think these boys we're even one bit of the word "normal," then you're completely wrong because these ball players have rugby balls for brain cells and will do everything they can to win; showing off is a big enough prize for them to try their hardest.

A rugby team is normally composed of fifteen players. However, for this year, there will only be a total of 9 participants as the other six already either have girlfriends that they were strongly committed to— unlike Sim Jake who changed girlfriends more often than he showered, or like Riki and Jungwon who were still too young to be doing any funny business, and like Sunoo who didn't want to participate in some pathetic child's play.

Moving on, one of the many other foolish participants in this wretched dog show is Park Jongseong, otherwise known as Jay amongst his peers and the students of Decelis High. It's his second year as an athlete playing rugby, meaning this year, it'll be his second time competing. As you can tell, he wasn't so lucky on his first try, barely getting pass three when he had ten on his check list, but this year, he's determined to do whatever it legally takes to come out on top.

"Alright, dickheads!" Their captain, Lee Heeseung, calls out.

Currently, all the willing participants are sitting around a mess of multiple chairs and tables merged together as they busy themselves with writing the names for the person who'll draw their paper.

"Times up. Pass your papers." Heeseung commands with folded arms, impersonating a teacher who's instructing their students. He fetches a clear bowl and gestures for all nine members to put their papers in. Shaking the bowl, he continues on saying, "Now, as last year's winner, I strongly advise all of you to have fun and not take things overboard."

"Aw c'mon, Cap," Jay mocks in a whine. "You know everyone takes this game seriously, don't you?"

Heeseung rolls his eyes, shaking the bowl in circles. "I know but I'm still obligated to say that so I won't be involved in the fallout when one of you idiots decide to do something stupid, again." He says, eyeing Choi Beomgyu from across the table. All the puppy-faced boy does is smile at his coach sheepishly, earning snickers and nudges from the people around him as he scratches the back of his head guiltily.

Last year, Beomgyu took the game a little too seriously. It was already his third year in the rugby team and he still hasn't won. He felt antsy, wanting to experience the glory of winning, and so, knowing that Heeseung was in the lead, he did whatever he could to stop him from finishing his list. He hid the girls from the other, he told them he had aids, that he cums too fast, that he likes being treated like a dog in bed, and a whole lot more dumb shit just to keep Heeseung from winning. But all his efforts were inevitably for nothing as by the time winter break was over, Heeseung had won, laying out all the pictures he took of his one night stands out on the table at lunchtime with a cocky smirk plastered across his perfect face.

One by one, the boy's take their turns fishing for a piece of paper inside the bowl. As Jay grasps his own in the palm of his hands, he takes a look at the others' expressions when they open their own checklist.

Some cheered and some winced. Seeing the latter made Jay's confidence run through the roof, thinking that he was so lucky that he already had the upper hand on the others without having to even take a look at his own paper.

"Mark Lee?!" Choi Yeonjun screams in outrage. "Bitch! Is this even allowed?!" He genuinely asks in an outraged tone, however, the others just simply burst out laughing at his predicament, not providing him with a coherent answer.

"Cap?" He calls out to the younger, voice pleading.

Heeseung sighs out seemingly tired of the whole ordeal as he pinches the bridge of his sharp nose, scrunching his eyebrows together. "I'll change it on my own, hyung." He assures the older in a low tone, making it so that Yeonjun was the only person who got to hear what he said.

"I thought we agreed on keeping it strictly to girls?" He said, crossing his arms once again and repeatedly tapping his feet on the ground to show his annoyance. "So, which idiot was it?"

At that question, continuous screams of denial and bursts of cackling laughter erupt, occupying the small room, but Jay tunes them all out as his eyes zero onto the lack of names written on his checklist. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as usually there were at least ten different names listed on every checklist because everyone wanted to make it harder for the person who drew it. However, his list only had one.

Although writing less than ten names isn't against the rules, it's certainly out of the ordinary as he doubts anyone on his team had a heart made of gold and be that merciful.

Before he could tear his eyes away from the paper though, he caught sight of a note written beside it.

1. YN — goodluck on this one bro ;) tell me how getting pegged feels like, I kinda wanna try it soon.

Looking at the note with a mix of confusion and disgust, Jay wonders why this girl seemed so unfamiliar.

In all his years spent in the same school, he's never heard of anyone with that name before. Granted, he doesn't usually pay attention to anyone other than the boys, much less try to remember the names of the girls he fucks around with in school. He thinks they're all irrelevant and are just getting close to them because they want the attention and fame being the girlfriend— or even an acquaintance, of a varsity player gives them. But the thing is, for the sake of the competition, he has to know who you are, however, no matter how far back in his memories he searches, he still can't seem to remember who that girl is.

Eventually his curiosity takes over and asks "Who's YN?" while showing them his list and gesturing towards the only name written on it.

Hearing his question, the chattering stops and their gazes focus on the tip of Jay's finger. Jake is the one that answers his question, the rest of them stare with their mouths slightly agape. "You don't know YN? From the art club?"

When all Jay does is shake his head, the boys stare at him in a mix of wonder and shock, baffled by how oblivious the boy is when it comes to you.

"Dude, how do you not know YN?" Park Sunghoon asks in disbelief. Jay only shrugs at him in reply, wondering what the big deal about this girl was.

"Bro, Jay, whoever wrote YN down is absolutely bad-shit crazy. I got her on my list last year and she was the fucking reason I lost." Choi Soobin says, groaning. "I was so close to winning as well!" He bursts out, slumping on the back of his chair as he pouts.

Everyone knows about the rugby team's yearly antics and you're ashamed to say that nearly everyone is ecstatic whenever that time of the year comes— especially the whores. It gives them the not so once in a lifetime chance to sleep with the hottest varsity player on campus.

However, as the loner with one singular friend that you are, you'd like to say that you're different from everyone else— and you are not saying that so you could be the IRL version of YN from a Wattpad book made in 2013. You don't feel excitement coursing through your veins when the year starts. Your panties don't drop at the sight of them all sweaty and dirty while practicing. You don't try to manifest your name to be on the list so they could flirt with you, get in your pants, and then leave you cold and naked when they get what they want. They're just boys who can play one filthy sport, what's so mind blowing about that?

You hate rugby. It's not just some petty thing, you despise it with your whole mind, body, and soul. You can't ever stand that sport and you hate the fact that all school funds go to that dumb piece of shit and not your precious art club. If only your school treated the art club the same way they sucked that god forsaken sports dick off then maybe— no, not maybe, then for sure, your school would have much more elegance.

God! Just saying the word "rugby" makes your tongue bitter. Not to mention, the players! They're just horrendous; full of pride, ego, and everything bad. You just can't stand breathing in the same air.

So last year, when misfortune dawned upon you and they had the audacity to involve you in their wretched game, you blew up; like a volcano waiting to burst and set fire to the whole nation.

That year, Kang Taehyun, a rugby jock, approached you and started shamelessly flirting with you while you were having a peaceful time replicating the Mona Lisa. You erupted into a fit of anger and threw your palette covered with fresh paint onto his white varsity jacket.

Every single member of the rugby team wore that shit everywhere they possibly could. It's as if to show his underlings that he is superior. You knew it was for their weird Picture Perfect event, that's why you acted in such a barbaric way. And for the record, you regret none of it— not even when you got sent to the principal for a 3 hour scolding session.

You know who that boy is. His name is Park Jongseong and he's in the same year as you, meaning that you get to see him too many times a week for your liking. Why such a strong distaste for the boy you ask? Oh, that's because you already know what breed the scoundrel is. If that jersey wrapped around his lean body doesn't scream jock to you then you don't know what else.

Word around campus spreads fast so even though you detested hearing useless gossip, you're somewhat thankful that Liz is such a chatterbox because through her, you're able to know who everyone is in the first few months of school. Truthfully, you have yet to decide whether this trait of hers should be considered as a con or not. For example, last year, she had the bright idea of telling you that Park Sunghoon slept with a 40 year old milf, offering to spill you the rest of the details— not like she knew what the word 'milf' meant. She just tells you whatever new story she hears. Needless to say, you didn't want to hear any other features of that story. So, you weren't surprised when you caught sight of one of them throwing curious glances your way on one Monday morning whilst you were talking to your best friend, Liz, in front of your locker.

It annoyed you how he was looking at you and it made your skin crawl. Already, you could feel waves of nauseous chills skimming down your spine, making you shudder as no doubt that if he continues, your breakfast is going to spill to the floor. You could only guess that he's interested in you because you're on his list and that he's trying to make a move on you.

Before, you were used to them glancing at you out of curiosity. It's a normal thing to do when you see someone pretty on campus, but no one ever made a move to introduce themselves. Truth be told, these guys never messed with you until last year, when they found you're a hard girl to get with.

If your hunch is correct and you're in fact on the list once again then you could only wish him good luck because you aren't interested.

To you, the boy throws what looks to be a constipated looking smile your way and your lips tug further down in a frown, suddenly feeling your stomach get upset.

Although taken aback by your expression, Jay ignores it and persists to throw a charming smile your way, this time adding a small wave— both of which you turn down, only replying with the same frown on your face as you bore holes on his face with your so-called "resting bitch face." His face falters when he realises that you've indirectly turned down his gesture, scratching the back of his head in concealed embarrassment as he turns back to his group of friends as if nothing happened.

"Why's that psycho looking at me?" You ask, cutting Liz off on her rant and nudging your head towards where the guy stood.

Liz follows your stare and without warning, she squeals, jumping in place with excitement when he catches sight of the boy. "Oh my gosh, YN! Jay was looking at you?!"

With your face scrunched up in disgust, you look at your lifeline and wonder if it's too late to change friends because if it isn't, you'd pick that snot covered geek with braces back in 3rd grade any day.

"Oh don't look at me like that." She says, slapping your arm. "He is totally your type!"

Gagging, your gastric reflexes are about to show you just how displeased your whole body is with that sentence. "My type?! What do you mean by 'my type'?! Whatever my type is, it is certainly not that!" You say, repeatedly making frustrated air quotes whenever you say the word 'my type.'

"He is! Look," She persists, tangling her arms with yours and pulling you to gaze at where Jay stood. "Nice jawline, feminine and cat-like eyes, pretty lips, prominent nose, and last but certainly not the least, look at that stunning birthmark on his neck! Don't tell me you don't want to lick that." She dares on.

Now, you're ashamed. Where have you gone wrong in raising your best friend and how did she become such a disgusting simp?!

To some extent, you suppose she is quite right. Usually, guys like him would be your type. If only that varsity jacket wasn't wrapped around his body then maybe, just maybe, you would've shot your shot by now. To them, that jacket signifies authority, fame, and an excessive amount of self importance. One glance at these arrogant motherfuckers and you already know they're narcissistic and my God, you hate it.

The first ring of the school bell finally pulls you out of your murderous glare, eyes diverting from the annoying jock and moving towards your schedule instead. You sigh gratefully once you see that your first class is literature. Not only is literature class the only subject you enjoy, you also like to think that teaching students the power of words and poetry brings back some of your schools integrity.

With Liz, you travel towards the classroom with your hand possessively trapped in hers. Liz likes physical touch and even though you aren't the kind to be touchy with anyone, you'll let a few of your principles be set aside for your dearest best friend.

Your face stays neutral and observing while the boy, supposedly named as Jay, takes the seat beside yours. He ignores the complaints of your blonde headed friend as if she wasn't even there. He continues to pay no heed to Liz and when she realises he won't be moving any time soon, your friend leaves with a hmph and stomps towards the seat right behind yours.

As you enter the room, you tell Liz to pick a seat somewhere near the front and beside the windows. She nods, understanding your love for the subject and setting aside her dislike so you could have fun.

You sigh comfortably in satisfaction as you skim your hands on the newly polished face of your desk, only to be disrupted later on when you hear your friend shouting in a pouty way.

Sulking, Liz taps at your back, hoping to get some of your attention and to her delight, you turn your head towards her while your front is in Jays view. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes blatant stare at your neck, you focus on whatever gossip Liz tells you, humming and nodding every now and then to show her that you were listening.

No matter how long you and Liz have been talking, Jays fixation on you doesn't waver, only intensifying within the passing moments. Jay stares at every crevice of your body that's shown. Your neck and the exposed skin of your collarbone is what draws Jay in; pretty and plush, making it so nice to look at. Each muscle clenches as you continue to crane your neck towards your friend and it only takes his mind into a deeper frenzy, thoughts occupied with your skin and the desire to touch it. The boys mouth somewhat begins to salvate, making him take a loud gulp as he feels himself grow hotter and flustered.

Knowing how much he's been ogling at you while you're just there striking simple pose, he finds himself kind of embarrassing in this situation as he's never been one to be so easily riled up. But what can he do? it's something his body can't help but feel and the worse thing is, you weren't even doing any of it on purpose. It's all in his mind and Jay can only blame his teenage hormones for the fantasies it's creating.

Eventually, the boys strong fixation on you gets disrupted by your movements, pulling him out of his trance as now, instead of craning your neck and semi twisting your body to talk to your friend, he's met with your judging and questioning gaze. You continue to stare at Jay, cocking your eyebrows up as if to question whether he had anything to say. Still awestruck, the boy fails to form anything coherent and as a result of being caught, his cheeks start to flare up a sweet pinkish colour, one that you would've cooed at if he wasn't who he is.

Now, you're annoyed as while Liz is playing on her phone, there's an annoying jock sitting beside you. You huff feeling the symptoms of boredom spread through you. Picking up your pencil, you opt to scribble on your sketchpad, the small flower that laid idly on your table becoming your muse.

You were too busy sketching when out of the blue, you hear a deep voice speak up from beside you, ruining the serenity you've made for yourself.

"Life is the flower for which love is the honey, don't you think?" The man beside you cites, trying to mimic a poet citing his own poem. He picks up the small flower that strayed on top of your desk with his nimble fingers and gives it to you with the same smile he showed you prior to this moment. "It's a quote from Shakespeare. Have you heard of it?"

'This is it.' He thought in his head, thinking that since you were into art and literature, you were probably screaming on the inside right now because of Jays romantic gesture. He watched you as you eye the flower in his hands, his ego swelling with pride thinking that he's won you over. You repeatedly look back between his face and the flower before heaving out a small sigh. He watches your face morph into the most charming smile Jay had ever seen and at that moment, the boy felt something tugging on his heart strings.

In awe of your beaming beauty, he sat frozen on his seat as you leaned closer to Jay, taking the small flower in your hands. His breath couldn't help but hitch at the slightest contact of your fingers brushing against his as he continued to stare at you in wonder as you inspected the flower, twirling it between your long fingers.

"That's sweet, Jay." You compliment, looking at the said boy. He struggles to maintain eye contact with you, once again feeling overwhelmingly hot under your gaze— not to mention the way his name rolled out so smoothly out of your mouth. "But…" Dragging out the word, you leave Jay in suspense.

He's at the edge of his seat as waits for you to continue, cheeks flaring up as you smile at him with such a sickening amount of sweetness. Jay thinks you're going to finally flirt back at him. That all his friends' words were untrue and in reality, you're actually just a shy tsundere.

But Jay was proven wrong when you pressed the flower between your fingers, crushing it with little to no thought. "...That's from Hugo, not Shakespeare. I suggest you get your facts straight before you try to get inside my pants." You finish.

The sweet moment between the two of you ended the moment those words left your mouth and pierced its way through Jay's confidence. With your eyes, you dared for him to retaliate, but just like how you expected, Jay was too embarrassed that his brain couldn't even process what was happening. Gone was the pretty smile that Jay's so head over heels for as now, an annoyed expression falls upon your features— a complete one-eighty in just a span of five seconds.

"Also, do me a favor and leave me out of your dumb fucking game."

After that, Jay was too ashamed to stay in your presence. So, wanting to keep the rest of his dignity, he left with his head bowed down. The action prohibited you from seeing his reddened face which he was thankful for. Instead, he made his way towards the back of the class and picked a seat a few chairs behind you, making it so that he could still watch you freely from afar without your knowledge.

For the sake of his pride, he tried to think that he only left because class was starting and because he didn't want to be stuck in the same seat when he's done doing his business with you. However, he knows those words were all lies— a way for him to deny his blossoming feelings.

Jay can't seem to understand how you made his heart pound so hard, ear deafening from the relentless beats that was orchestrated by your mere presence. He's not one to blush like an idiot in front of someone and he's certainly not one to feel like his heart had been thrown until beaten and battered by one negative gesture. You make him feel something foreign, something he's never felt before in his life. It scares him in a way; not being able to put into words how he's feeling. There's something about the way you feel so strongly disgusted by him that makes him want to provoke you even more, wanting to see more ways you'll respond. He sees the fire crackling behind your eyes whenever he looks at you so why is it that even though he knows he'll get burnt, he's still dying to touch you?

There's clearly something wrong with him.

He knows it's unhealthy; wanting to get closer to you when you clearly don't like him, but he can't help it. He's drawn to you in some mind consuming type of way and he's willing to do anything just to get an ounce of your attention.

His feelings are still confusing to him because just hours ago, his mind was so enveloped in winning, willing to do whatever it takes just to have you in bed and get the glory he so despretely wants. But now that he's gotten a glimpse of what it's like to be occupied by you, the objective has changed. It's not about the game anymore because fuck the game. Right now, he couldn't give a shit about winning— okay, maybe a just little bit.

Of course, he still has the game to thank for introducing you to him and he still wants to rub his victory onto his teammates' face like Heeseung did when he won. But right now, all he wants is to have you.

It's your second month back in school and Jay hasn't let a single moment in literature class pass by without him trying to get on your nerves. It seems as if God has put your morals to the test because each time he opens his mouth, your hand seemed to itch for some impact, preferably on someones face.

His routine would always be to sit beside you when class hasn't started yet, try and build up a conversation with you in which you'd reply with something dry, he'd ignore it and continue to talk about his day whether it would be about practice, rugby, or just how his day went in general, and then go back to his permanent seat when the bell rings.

If you're being honest, in the past you would've been so dejected, disgusted, and nauseated by the fact that you're even within five metres in range of one of them.

When have you gone wrong in raising yourself and where have your principals gone?

Granted, if the opportunity to get rid of him ever came, would you still take it?

They're still insufferable, you know that for sure. But after finding out that no matter how hard you try and kick Paek Jay out of your life, there's no reason to keep trying anymore and that you've completely given up. You've tried everything you could imagine just to steer away from him. There was no way in hell that you'd ever change classes so instead, you opted to convince the boy to work his magic and change classes and go somewhere, preferably, far far far away from you. But of course, as you can tell, that didn't work. There was also a time where you tried to ignore him in hopes of him finally giving up, however, to no avail, he was persistent and didn't relent. You've also begged Liz to not let Jay switch seats with her before class, but to your luck, your best friend seems to have her mind wrapped in the fantasy that you and Jay are just perfect for eachother.

She kept on giving you the reason that God would bring her back as cockroach if she got in the way of your blossoming love. So believe me when I say, you've tried it all.

"Hey, YN." He greets cooly, casually sliding in Liz's seat. Already used to it, your friend just shrugs, momentarily switching seats with the boy as she knows that he'll eventually switch back.

Without turning your head to face him, you only reply with a hum, respectfully acknowledging him despite your dislike.

Jay ignores your clear lack of interest before he heaves out a deep loud sigh. He throws his head back, adam's apple protruding at the middle of his throat as you peek at him brushing his hair back.

It's hot. He's hot. But you bury that feeling deep down, shaking the thought away. You return your focus towards where your phone lay in the middle of your desk. The screen opens, a quiet beep catching your attention. You were about to ignore it, suddenly feeling too tired to socialise, but to your dismay, it doesn't only catch your attention but also of the man sitting beside you.

"Mrs. Hwang sent you a message, YN." He informs you, head now resting comfortably on your desk. "Should I open it?"

He leans over towards your side, an arm sliding on top of your desk, resting in front of you while the other rests behind you, on top of your seat like a boyfriend trying to gatekeep his girlfriend. You would've tried shaking him off if you weren't aware of the fact that he would put it back either way. His head is right next to yours as he eyes the message on your phone and you can't help but catch a whiff of the delightful scent of his shampoo. Trying to stay composed, you sit idly in your seat as you watch Jay scan through the notification on your lock screen as if it was his own.

You scoff in disbelief, rolling your eyes to feign annoyance. "No, gimme that." You say, snatching the phone away from his view.

Pouting, Jay sits up from his seat, suddenly feeling more invasive than usual as he rests his head on top of your shoulder to watch you reply to the message your art teacher had sent you. Feeling vexed, you shrug your shoulders harshly, trying to shake Jay off of you only to fail. After multiple times of trying to take him off, you finally heave out a defeated sigh, gathering all the composure you have left in your body to not beat him up. Eventually coming to terms at the fact that Jay isn't going to let you have your own space, you accept your fate and let him stay there as you tap your fingers on the screen of your phone to answer your teachers request.

Mrs Hwang (Art Teacher): YN, we still don't have a male muse for the portrait project tomorrow. Do you mind asking some friend of yours to volunteer?

Is she insane or just totally oblivious? Everyone knows you're an art geek loner. You're already thankful to have one friend permanently stuck to your hip so, when did she ever get the impression that you had more?

"Ooh, looking for a male muse?" You jump at the sudden voice, completely forgetting the boy that laid on your shoulder against your will.

"Can you stop meddling with other peoples businesses?" You say, now feeling actually annoyed because you have to worry about having to find a muse for your art class. It's not even like you can say no as well. Your teacher loves and adores you. At this point, she treats you like her own kid because she acknowledges the drive you have to share your painting with the world. She also said that she'd be happy to offer you an internship with one of her fancy artist friends once you're done with school and you just can't mess up your chances.

Ignoring your clear irritation, Jay continues, "I can be your muse." He suggests, smirking.

"In your dreams, Jongseong." You say clicking your tongue whilst not meeting his eyes.

"Hey!" Jay exclaims. "I told you to call me Jay not Jongseong." He presses on, tone persistent as he leans his face closer in order to persuade you. However, you don't give him an ounce of your attention, refusing to give him the satisfaction. And so, he chases you, body unconsciously pressing onto your side while he busies himself. Amidst your teasing, you don't realise this either, too busy trying to suppress the grin fighting to form between your lips.

Your playfulness lasts for a few more moments before Jay finally grunts out in defeat, letting his head fall on top of your desk with a thud. "YN, look at me." He whines like a child.

Rolling your eyes as you heave out what seemed to Jay as a deep and tired sigh, you finally turn your face to look at him. A deadpan expression is on your face as you await his next actions. Seeing that you've finally given in to his request, Jay feels his stomach start to flutter, tickling him and making him feel bubbly. The smile on his face is adorable, pleased that he's victorious and this time, you fail to keep the corners of your lips from twitching upwards.

Even your laugh is beautiful to him and he can't help but want to hear more. He's tempted to crack a joke or do something dumb in order to push you over the edge and reveal more of the amazing sounds that comes out of your mouth. But he decides against it, thinking that instead of making you laugh, he might overstep his boundaries and ruin his chance with you— well, that's him thinking he has one.

Seeing a genuine version of your smile is what sets Jays heart into a frenzy, a billion flutters that set his heart soaring through the roof. Flustered, Jay ducks his head in an attempt to hide his giddiness from you. However, he inevitably fails when he hears a chuckle escape from your mouth. His head shoots up, eyes wide and unbelieving. His heart seemed to have accelerated faster than what he could imagine, face now burning a deep red.

Clearing his throat while fixing his blazer, he resumes. "I'll be your muse." He says, tone trying to show you that his decision is final.

"No, Jay." Despite being delighted that you've used his prefered name like he's asked you too, he still frowns. Again, his pout is adorable and you almost want to give in and let him take on the job.

"But, why?" He whines, shaking defiantly in his seat. "I'll be a great muse!"

Notwithstanding, you roll your eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time this whole interaction. "I said no." You say firmly as if commanding the boy.

His adorable pout turns into a bigger frown upon being rejected. However, the expression doesn't stay for long before it morphs into one you can only assume as mischievous as his plump lips turn into a plotting smirk, eyes gleaming with playfulness.

Seeing that, you squint your eyes at him, brows furrowing as you try to depict what's behind that look. "I swear to god, Jay. If you're planning something…"

"What? I'm not doing anything." In contradiction to his words, his face tells you that he is plotting something. If it isn't the way his smirk doesn't relent and the way his eyes still bask in the same glint, it's the way he finishes his reply with a teasing tone, clearly choosing to defy you despite your clear warning.

You were about to call him out on his actions when you're suddenly being cut off by the bell ringing and not even a second later, Jay is pushing back his seat and striding towards his own. With his hands in his pockets, there's not a doubt in your mind that he's still wearing the same smug look as he sits down on his seat. You eye him from afar and when he notices this, he gives you a curt nod, brows rising upwards as if to ask you if you needed anything as he grinned.

Why are you so against Jay being the art clubs muse, you ask?

Truthfully, you should've been ecstatic to find out that Jay, one of the hottest guys on campus— Liz's words, not yours, wanted to volunteer. So why are you prohibiting him from doing so?

Is it because you only want the two of you's interactions to strictly be inside this classroom and nowhere else? No, not really. Is it because you're ashamed to be seen by your other club members being associated with his type? Deep down, you know that's not true. In fact, you're sure that when Jay steps inside your club, he'll be bombarded by his female art geek admirers and you'll be thrown aside and forgotten. Maybe, that's what you're opposed of; having to share him with other people.

Does this mean that you're jealous? No, no, no, it can not be that. It can't possibly be that. If you're jealous, then that means you like him and you know you do not like him. In fact, he can go ahead and be a brat and ignore what you said. He can walk in there tomorrow and be crowded with fangirls and you won't even bat an eye.

If you see one person tugging on his blazer one more time, you swear to every God up there that you're going to commit a vital sin and you can only pray that they forgive you. You hate to admit it, but your right eye is twitching. Not just once, not twice, but every time some random person touches him and it's infuriating you— both the fact that someone's touching him and the fact that your eye is twitching without your consent.

Again, you're not jealous.

There you stood with your arms crossed over each other, away from the small crowd that had formed around Jay. Your back is pressed against an empty wall as you watch them gush about how hot he is, how handsome he looks, how great his physique is. It all makes you scoff, clicking your tongue as you look out of the window in annoyance after you see the smirk that paints Jays lips when he sees the annoyed expression on your face.

Despite practically being mobbed and having every female member of your art club pressed against him, his eyes are on you and there's not a single doubt in your mind that he's doing this to set you off.

The girl in front of him catches his attention when she suddenly throws herself at him. Jay only chuckles before his eyes flicker towards you and you swear a light bulb just lit up beside his head.

The excited girl starts talking animatedly at him and he makes it look like he's invested in what she's saying. He even did that panti dropping move where he swayed her hair back behind her ear. Afterwards, he looked for you, a cocky smile painted across his features, knowing full well that he did that to get a rise out of you.

He's certainly loving the attention, isn't he?

Despite your prohibitions, that hard headed motherfucker still had the nerve to come. Hence, why you have a permanent scowl on your face.

The moment Jay introduced himself as your friend and that you've brought him here as todays muse, you knew you were in for a fun time— note the sarcasm. To Jay, this must be all fun and rainbows, but to you, this is hell on earth. Admittedly, you're embarrassed to be caught with the likes of him, especially when you've vocalised time and time again how much you hate people like him. Yet, here you are, watching your art teacher usher everyone to take their seats in front of their easels while Jay sits on a sturdy table placed at the centre, posing attractively with his hands resting behind him on the table as he leans backwards. His gaze is pretty and somewhat intimidating to look at from an outsiders point of view, his lips sitting comfortably in its normal pout.

Abiding by your teachers words, you sit on your own chair and surprise surprise, it's placed right in front of him. Jay didn't know that that was your assigned seat, but seeing so, his lips had a mind of their own as no matter how hard he tried to stay still like how your teacher had asked him to be, the corners of his mouth still tinged upwards.

Already accustomed to Jays teasing antics, you only heave out a tired sigh, shaking your head in defeat as you pick up your pencil.

Might as well draw him while you're at it, right?

Truth be told, it has been a while since you've drawn someone, so you wonder how you'd do and surprisingly, you're good at it. It was scary at first, feeling nervous that you might mess up, however, the longer your pencil drags on top of your paper, the more you feel at ease. Drawing someone as pretty as Jay made you appreciate the finer things in life; the way his nose stood ever so perfectly at the center of his face, how his collarbone peaked through the shirt he wore, how his hair seemed to have been placed perfectly without effort, and lastly, the way his body looked so inviting despite being covered. All of that combined with the natural lighting of the sunset peeking through the glass windows made everything so much more appealing. Using the excuse of drawing him, you hide between the mask you wore in order to not seem like a hunter salivating for its prey as you continue to draw the guidelines for your portrait.

"I didn't know you had friends on the varsity team."

Turning your head, you come face to face with An Yujins annoying smirk plastered on what you could only assume is her face. Most of the time, you can't really tell if it's her ass or her face that's in front of you because she pushes both onto any guys face. You didn't even notice that she was sitting beside you until she opened her mouth, too preoccupied with sketching the greek god in front of you to care about her existence.

She's the definition of an ugly jealous slutty cheerleader that wants everything nice for herself. You don't even have a single clue why she's part of your club nor how she's still in it since she rarely ever attends. To add to that, you've never seen her pass a single one of her projects.

Above all the days in the week she could've chosen to come, she just had to go today and see you with the one and only varsity fuck boy.

"Well, to be honest, I'm surprised you have any friends at all."

People like her are the type to make fun and point their fingers at you for wearing your grandmas hand knitted sweaters and they're just the worst! Seriously, how can someone hate something made by someones old grandma?! The audacity these people hold still baffle you to this day, although not as much as before.

Through the years, Yujin seemed to have grown a liking for you. A liking you never asked for nor wanted. You had no idea why but she just loved to make fun of you every chance she got. It didn't matter how petty she looked nor did it ever matter to you when she tried to belittle you with rude comments and backhanded banter. Honestly, you're more upset at the fact that her jokes were never funny. If it was, you'd laugh, no matter if it was supposed to offend you because hey, if it's funny, it's funny. For instance, yesterday, she made fun of you for wearing your reading glasses, saying that you looked like you're an old maths teacher who's either widowed or divorced. A week ago, she caught you eating a chocolate bar in front of your locker while you were casually minding your own business with Liz and she told you how fat you were getting. You were about to tell her to get lost when Liz decided to fight back and told her that she had more fat rolls than Fat Amy. That little firecracker! Ugh, you just love her to bits.

In the early days, you would fire back at her mercilessly, coming up with the wittiest of replies, but before you knew it, you grew up. Suddenly, you felt spent. You got tired of the whole cat and mouse bickering and for once, you turned your life upside down and chose to be mature. That didn't seem to have sat well with Yunjin though as from then on, her attempt to torment you went from every so often to very often. Of course, being the strong and independent woman that you are, you never took any of her insults to heart— not like they offended you either way. You simply ignored her or told her to get lost and that you weren't interested. Obviously, she gets angry but being the pussy that she is, you knew she was never going to get into anything physical with you because if she did, she'd lose in an instant. With that lanky ass body of hers, even your four year old sister can.

So, wanting nothing to do with the likes of her, you divert your attention back to the hunk of a man that sat in front of you. However, you're greeted with a different expression than before as now, his brows are furrowed with wonder and question. He looks at you silently, his eyes somewhat shining thinly with jealousy and betrayal while his normal pout drags down into a frown as if to ask how you could take your eyes off of him when he's laid out in front of you so deliciously.

"Mr. Park, please refrain from moving your face." Your art teacher asks.

Jay replies with a grunt at being told off before he looks up front. He lets out a satisfied hum when he sees that your eyes have found their way back to him, now happily resting them back in their previous form.

After that small fiasco, Jay tried his hardest from then on not to move. He didn't want to cause any more commotion and make you fuck up the portrait you were drawing of him. He wanted to see how well you sketched him later on when the session was done.

Staying still for an hour proved to be harder than he thought, especially when your eyes looked so deeply at every part of him. After a torturous ten minutes of you looking at every detail of his face, he's fought and lost to the blush that persistently wanted to make its way up his cheeks when he saw you eyeing the skin of his throat. Correct him if he's wrong but he swears he can see the way your eyes fire up after he took a huge gulp. The way you were staring every time his adams apple bobbed or when the muscles on his neck flexed made him even more flustered.

He fought the urge to recoil with every feeling of you overwhelming him in such a public scene, suppressing the sexual thoughts that clouded his mind. You were doing nothing but what you were asked to do, so why does he feel so bothered by something he's supposed to be used to? Girls staring at him is a normal occurance to Jay, but for some reason, you make him feel overwhelmed.

Jay is terrible at concealing his thoughts and it's apparent in the way he avoids eye contact that you're the reason behind it. Seeing just that, you try to hide the egotistic smirk that’s on your face, not wanting to stand out amongst your peers. In an attempt to recollect yourself, you intake a hefty breath before rolling your shoulders back to loosen your tensed muscles before going back to work on adding shadows onto your portrait.

From then on, the minutes passed by staring at you. I mean, what else was he supposed to do? It kept him preoccupied and it gave him the excuse to stare back at you; the way your brows furrowed together in concentration, the way you pout whenever he assumes you made a wrong stroke, heck, he even longed to crane his neck to the side so he can see more of the way your fingers wrapped elegantly around your pencil. Everything about you seemed so enchanting to him, captivating him and encasing him in your prison. He's addicted to having more of you and he's driven to have just that because one way or another, Park Jay always gets what he wants.

The hour soon then passed and before he could even grasp what was happening, your teacher's already patting him on the back, telling him how good he did.

As asked, you all lean your canvases on an empty wall, awaiting for your teachers evaluation as the others compare their respective portraits with each others. Jay was told by your teacher he could leave if he wanted, but like he said earlier, he wanted to have a look at your portrait. So, he declined.

Jay never had any interest in art and poetry, but since meeting you, he feels like a whole new person. Never in his lifetime did he have to search the web for romantic poems nor has he ever awed when looking at someones canvas and yet, here he is. Everything he's doing is foreign, like the way you make him feel. And as he continues to stare at the portrait you drew of him, he's once again in awe of you. He can't help but wonder how someone can be so perfect doing something they're passionate about.

Folding your arms, you stand next to Jay, patiently waiting for his feedback because after all, he is your muse. "So," You start, palms pressing onto your thigh to wipe off the thin layer of sweat forming. "How'd I do?"

The boy jumps. He didn't notice you were there, standing beside him. "G-Good! Really good, actually." He answers, stuttering to blurt out an answer. Jays cheeks blush, feeling flustered.

Heaving out a sigh in relief, you chuckle at yourself, finding it funny how you were nervous for nothing.

Jay clears his throat, trying to compose himself before blurting out his next response. "You must've enjoyed looking at me a lot, huh?"

And just like that, the adorable smile on your face is wiped off, a frown replacing it. However, Jay isn't complaining because as much as he loves that cute smile on your face, he's just as deeply in love with the fire in your eyes whenever you get annoyed at him. He thinks your scowls are pretty, it makes him want to tease you more often and that's just what he does to you every single day after that.

The day he saw the way you scowled at him after he teased you, is the same day his heart seemed to have fallen for you. And along with his heart, came his body next as it seemed to have always yearned to be either close or next to you.

That's why you never thought much of it.

Since that fateful day, Jay has gotten even touchier than he already was. As time went by, it started to evolve from Jay poking his fingers at your sides for fun, to jumping you and taking you in for a hug whenever he sees you in the hallways. It was never romantic though and was always accompanied by a teasing glint.

Granted, you did get angry every time he tried touching you, still deeming him as more of an acquaintance rather than a close friend. However, as moments pass, Jays repetitive routine of touching, teasing, and then annoying you became as normal as you and Liz walking to school together. Although you never asked for Jay to be in your life, there's no doubt that it'd feel incomplete without him.

Over the course of the months, you've developed an odd relationship for the boy. It kind of makes you reminisce of the time you and Yujin used to bicker. The difference is that Jays mischievousness always takes one of three forms; flirty pick-up lines, defiance, and lastly, clinginess. Out of the 3, you adore the first one the most and could make good riddance of the second. As for the last one, you're only left confused.

Jays pick-up lines are to die for. They're always either humourly cheesy or impeccably horny— both of which makes you double over laughing even when he hasn't finished his line yet.

"I'm not even playing cards right now and I pulled a queen." Jays triumphant grin is contagious and no matter how hard you hold back your laughter, you just can't— especially when Liz is cackling behind you.

"That's so stupid, Jay." You say, shaking your head. Contradicting your own words, your smile is evident and Jay can't get enough. So, he decides to tell you more, hoping to get the same, if not, a better reaction out of you.

"You know," He starts. "I'm like Nike and you're like McDonalds."

"Oh yeah?" Seeing the smirk on Jays face only makes your own grin grow wider as you await to complete his joke, already at the edge of laughter. "Why?"

Clearing his throat, he answers. "Because I'm just doing it and you're loving it."

"Oh my god." You sigh before covering your face to hide the guilty smile you wore while your giggles furiously try to break free. "Now, that's just you being horny Jay."

Wanting to see your bright face, Jay leans closer to your seat. He wraps his fingers around your wrist in an attempt to pull them away from your face, but to his dismay, you don't budge. "Let me see you~" He whines.

"No~" You drag, mimicking his tone. "That was so bad!" You press on, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment in yourself for laughing at such a stupid pick-up line.

"You clearly love it!" He exclaims, teasing you while leaning his face closer to yours despite it still being covered by your hands. "Now let me see you!"

"No, I don't." You fire back, pulling your hands away and looking at him. "But, tell me more."

Second, the boys defiance brings edge to his comical personality. Jay lives to see the enraged look on your face whenever he defies your simple orders and he'd never admit it to you himself, but that's what gets him going.

At night, when he's all alone with his thoughts, his mind fills with scenes of him under you, begging for mercy. With all the authority you like to show, there's not a single hint of doubt in his mind that you like being in control, and he's willing to give you just that. Above all the women he's been with, you've repeatedly brought out a side of him that even he was heedless of— and this isn't any different.

Laying with his chest up and back pressed onto the soft fabric of his mattress, Jays breath quickens as he pushes himself to dive deeper into his fantasy. The thought consists of you and only you. With his hands dragging across the wide of his chest, he imagines it's your long and slender ones and not his. He drools at the possible feeling of your nails scratching on his body, making him release a quivered breath.

Already feeling the pent up frustration building up in his boxers, he pushes his hair back before groping his hardening dick. He presses the palm of his hand directly on it, teasing himself as he envisions the proud look on your face as you watch him crumble under your supposed touch.

"Fuck this." He concludes before pushing himself off of the mattress. Reaching beside him to open his bedside drawer, he grabs something he usually only uses for desperate times.

Jay gets bitches. So, there's simply no need for pocket pussies and fleshlights. But there'll come a time in a varsity players life where sleeping around is simply impossible to do. When schedules are pact with classes he has to attend to, practices he has to participate in, and rugby matches he has to win, there's just no time to be flirting. So, he bought a fleshlight just to solve that predicament.

Leaning back and getting comfortable on his bed, Jay leans against the headboard and quickly shakes off his pajamas, lifting his hips up in the process. Once that was off, he watched as his cock lay tensed and angry on top of his stomach, ready for any sort of pleasure. Already feeling impatient, Jay spurts a good amount of lube inside the toy and afterwards, he spits on it, letting the lube mix with his own lubricant.

Feeling his breath growing faster as the excitement grows, Jay brings the toy closer to his dick. His mouth salivates, anticipating the pleasure that's yet to come. "Shit, YN. Just give it to me already." He says as he imagines you teasing him, lining the toy close to his dick.

Finally taking the whole skin of his leaking head inside, Jay releases a cross between a broken moan and a satisfied groan before taking all of his dick inside it all at once. Immediate pleasure fills the boys consciousness as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to suppress himself from moaning too loud. It's been too long since he's had any sort of pleasure from anything, mind too caught up in your existence. Not to mention the fact that he literally only wants you and no one else. After Jay found out that his feelings for you were growing more intimate than he'd like to, he tried his hardest to get hard for someone else.

The boy has never had a crush on anyone and naturally, he felt scared— both at the unknown and the possibility of being rejected. So, he went out to parties, tried to hook up with the usual sluts around campus. But whenever someone other than you touches him in any sort of provocative way, his mind just shuts down and his body starts reacting in a negative way. What used to be Jays favorite pastime now became his worst enemy because from then on, Jay couldn't think of having sex with anyone other than you. Soon enough, Jay accepted the fact that he can never have someone better than you. You've never even flirted with Jay yet his mind is already creating scenarios of the two of you together.

That's when he started working harder to get close to you because maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right, you might end up liking him back. It doesn't even have to be on the same heights as his feelings for you. If he succeeds and you like him back just a tiny ounce, then he can die happy. If he doesn't succeed and he fails to make you fall in love with him then it'd be a curse he'd have to bear with for the rest of his life because he knows that despite it, he couldn't ever leave you alone anymore.

He imagines the scenario of you chuckling at him, mocking him for breaking apart so easily, calling him your desperate little slut in the process. Too immersed, Jay replies, "S-Shit. 'M not your slut."

The sounds of the toy squelching with every pump drives Jay mad, mind growing hazier by the minute. The toy makes him feel wonders and he's only left to imagine how good your pussy would feel if you ever let him fuck you. He thinks that if a toy feels this good on his dick, then there's no way you won't feel euphoric once he gets a chance to bury his dick inside your wet cunt.

It's not even past five minutes and yet, he can already feel his high approaching so quickly. With his mind flooded with images of you, his hand guides the toy faster, trying to drive him over the edge of his orgasm before pulling the toy off his dick completely.

He chokes out a small cry in vain as all the pleasure vanishes. A string of curses leaves his lips after, not believing the fact that he's actually torturing himself just to get a taste of you in his imagination.

He envisions you doing this to him; bringing him close to ecstasy and then taking it all away right before he can get the chance to cum. It's torturous having to repeat the same agenda on himself, especially when it's not you actually doing it. But he does so either way despite the pain and after a few more agonising denials, Jay finally decided to change positions.

Now positioning himself on all fours, Jay takes a pillow and places it right below his groin, resting the toy on top after. His right hand holds the fleshlight in place while the other rests on top of his pillow as leverage. Feeling comfortable again to resume his actions, he inserts his dick back in the toy, throwing his head back in pleasure as he releases a long dragged moan of your name.

Jay starts thrusting into the toy with more vigor, jaw flexing as he clenches his teeth together. "Come on, Jay." Your voice says from inside his head. "Prove to me you aren't some worthless toy I can easily throw away."

Without wasting any more time, Jays thrusts grow near animalistic, pounding into the toy with more force. Lube mixed with his precum drips onto the mattress whenever he makes the move to retract his dick from the toy before drilling it back inside.

If there's anything in this world that Jay holds dear, that's you… and his pride. Jay knows he's good at everything so, when you, his beloved crush, tells him that he's practically a piece of filth you can't wait to throw away, Jays body fills with rage. How can you come up with such a lie? Those days that were filled with staring at you didn't go to waste because now, Jay feels like he knows your body inside and out. He knows every dip on your body, every mole visible on your skin and if there were more that he hasn't yet discovered, then he'll make sure to scout for them when he gets the chance to. He's determined to prove to you that he's irreplaceable, that no one can give you a better time than he does.

"Fuck, YN." He pants your name out, voice shaking with each powerful thrust. "I'm so close, YN. I'm gonna cum."

He tried to wait longer, he really did. He didn't want to cum in his own hands. Instead, he wanted to cum in your presence, wanting to show you how hot he looks when he cums. But inevitably, he failed.

Chanting your name, Jay finally lets himself reach his own high. With his body lurched forwards as he presses his face onto the sheets, his hips grind onto the toy while he rides himself off of his high, filling the toy with a huge load his hot cum.

His gut tells him that you'd love to humiliate him after. He can see you telling him how dumb he is for letting himself cum before you and he can only imagine how you'll punish him. Would you sit on his face and tell him to eat you out until you cum on his tongue? Or maybe, you'd tell him to sit down and ride him until you're satisfied, ignoring his pleas despite the overwhelming feeling of your vagina on his cock after he just came?

Either way, he's drunk and spent. But despite that, he won't make it easy for you. With all his might, he'll talk back and fire senseless retorts at you, wanting to drive you over the edge of insanity, completely unaware that it's already happening to him.

Lastly, Jays clinginess is something you didn't think you'd get used to this fast. All that talk about not wanting to be in the same vicinity as rugby players seemed to have flown past your head because look at you now; a jock practically purring on your shoulder as it napped. For a gym addict, Jays body is strong yet gentle, muscular yet soft, and heavy yet light. Polar opposites yet they conjure up the perfect qualities for a human being.

You have no idea how you two got into this situation nor do you remember who instigated it. The only thing you know is the feeling of comfort being close to Jay brings. It's odd, feeling the skin on skin contact with someone you're supposed to despise. Yet, you don't have the will-power to pull away. Perhaps, you have Jay to blame for that. Maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you think and you're developing feelings that're deeper, more romantic.

How did you let yourself fall for him?

One Friday afternoon when your literature class unfortunately got cancelled, the whole class was told that they were free to go and spend their vacant time however they wanted. Finding nothing else to do, you offered to go out to the school field and have a small picnic date together with Liz. But with your pro procrastinator best friend having a ton of pending assignments left, she told you to just go there with Jay while she tries finishing some of them.

Of course, still refusing to prove Liz right, you fake vomited, telling her that there was no way in hell you were going to have a picnic with Mr. Hot Shot Rugby Player and proceeded to go alone. Luckily, the said boy didn't hear your best friends suggestion and you were able to have a moment of peace before you realize that Jay was actually following behind you all this long.

"Jay," You call out his name in warning. "What're you doing here?"

"Nothing really. Just casually strolling since I have nothing to do." He answers, eyes staring at the horizon as his hands rest inside his pockets in a carefree manner. "Oh, having a picnic? Mind if I join?"

The boy doesn't give you a chance to reply before he's already making himself feel comfortable on the blanket. Prior to this, you had set up the blanket near a tall tree. You wanted to enjoy the cold breeze outside without the scorching heat of the sun burning your skin.

Noticing the small canvas that sat idly on top of the blanket, he asks, "You gonna paint?"

Accepting your fate and the fact that you aren't going to get rid of him, you take a deep breath as you try to compose your thoughts. "Yeah, I was planning to."

"Well, don't let me stop you, babe." He says right before leaning back on his hands, feeling smug.

Complying with his words with a huff, you take the small canvas in your arms either way. With your watercolor paint set securely on top of the picnic blanket, you take a fine brush, ready to start painting whatever comes to mind when Jay speaks. "Do you think you can draw me again?"

"No," Thinking that you're done, an immediate pout makes its way onto Jays face and he's ready to convince you otherwise when suddenly, you cut him off by finishing your sentence. "I don't have a pencil right now. I only have these with me." You add, gesturing towards your palette.

At that, Jay nods his head in understanding, however, a pout is still set on his face, yearning to be your muse once again. Looking over to him, you watch his face silently and while oblivious to your stare, Jay picks up a few small pebbles laying near the tree. He tosses them towards the distance, finding nothing to do. You sigh, feeling yourself cave in. "Come here then. I guess I can paint your silhouette or something."

Like an owner calling their cute kitten over, Jay whips his head towards your direction, feline eyes shining immensely with happiness before he conceals it, wanting to play hard to get. "Nah, I don't wanna bother you." He says in a mockingly sad tone.

Rolling your eyes at Jay antics, you pull his arm lazily so he could lean closer to you. "Come on, Jay. Before I change my mind."

Though it wasn't the first time yours and Jays skin has touched, it was the first time you instigated it. Jay has always been the one touching you, being clingy, and annoying— It was never you. The feeling is new and he can't help but freeze at the contact. Even after, his cheeks are set ablaze as the skin of your arms are still pressed together while he sits stiffly next to you. Noticing this, you ask, "You okay, pretty boy?"

Clearly, you said the name to tease him. Since day one, you were in love with the picture of Jays face looking dangerously red and flustered. Wanting to see the look on his face that you missed so dearly, you used the nickname in hopes to see it again. And it worked, Jays posture goes stiffer, his back straightening while he holds his breath.

A simple act of skinship initiated by you is new to him, although he knows it doesn't have the same effect on you as it does him. The gesture also doesn't tell him what your feelings are for him. But this, a pet name, was something he could only imagine receiving from you and here he is now, receiving it. It makes him speechless, mind searching desperately for a comeback that conceals how weak he is for you, but he fails to do so, heartbeat beating too loud for his mind to function.

From your perspective, Jays reactions are always adorable. Yes, he has his moments wherein he acts like a brat— a spoiled one at that, but you can't deny the fact that you're willing to entertain him. It's something that's beyond your grasp, something uncontrollable. You do it so often and most of the time, you aren't even aware of it. Your body just seems to react that way to him, whether you like it or not. Right now, you know deep down that Jay holds a place reserved only for him in your heart. So, you ask, can his feelings ever be true?

Despite what you think, you continue spending the rest of the free time you had with the boy and from then on, you've come to form a bond with him that was totally unexpected, and yet, you wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe. If only you just had the guts to tell him how you feel.

"By the way, Jake's holding a party at his house this Saturday. I was sorta hoping you'd come?" He asks as the two of you lean side by side on the tree.

You hum, eyes closed as you rested. "We'll see."

Dusting the nonexistent dust off of the fabric of your black leather jeans, you take a look in the mirror for the first time since you came rushing back to your house.

Prior to this, you had gone home last Friday night to go and visit your parents back in the countryside. You came back at around 7pm and since then, you've been hastily trying to gather an outfit for the same party Jay had invited you to come to, all the while fighting with your own consciousness whether or not it was a good thing to go.

You're not one to go to parties like this one. There's just something about partying with people you know from school that irks you. You'd much rather go to some local bar and get drunk off your head with strangers. But, like most decisions you make when Jay's involved, it gets thrown away towards the deepest corner of your brain, forgotten and neglected.

Stepping inside the huge mansion decorated with tons upon tons of littered empty beer bottles and chip bags, you almost turn around and leave before the sweet fragrance of Jay's cologne hits you, enveloping you in such a sweet scent. How can you leave?

"YN~" He whines, obviously drunk out of his mind as he clings onto your arm. " 've been wai—ting for… you… all night." In his drunken state, Jay leans his full weight onto you, legs probably feeling like jelly as the alcohol floods his system.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" You reply to him, enveloping his hands in yours to guide them towards your shoulder, wanting to provide him some leverage. Afterwards, your hands find their way towards the small of his waist in order to steady his body, afraid that the boy might collapse from the amounts of alcohol he's intook.

He answers you with several cute nods before stuffing his face into the crook of your neck, sighing comfortably. The boy seemed as if he was drunk out of his mind and you were about to ask him if he was okay before he cut you off. "I— I thought you not gonna come~" He drags in a pout. "Thought you… ditched… me."

By the tone of his voice, you can tell that Jay's about to pass out. So, making the decision to help him to bed, you made your way through the mass of sweaty teenagers on the dance floor and walked with him towards the kitchen. There was no use asking Jay where a guest room was located as the boy was now practically half asleep. With half of his body weight hung on your shoulder, the boy's purring onto your neck as you drag his body while you walk.

Catching sight of a familiar blonde haired boy rummaging through the fridge with a few bottles in his hands, you decide to call his name. "Jake," You huff, readjusting your grip on Jay as you feel him slipping between your arms. Jay whines at the sudden jolt, hands tightening around your neck as he places airy kisses onto the side of it, where his head was tucked in.

At the call of his name, Jake turns his attention away to find you with an impeccably drunk Jay clinging onto you like a koala. To Jake, the scene looked funny and amusing because this was the first time he saw Jay in such a vulnerable scene. If it was any other girl he was clinging to, Jake wouldn't have wasted a second to take his friend away and tend to him on his own, feeling worried for the boys well-being. But since he knows Jays romantic bond with you, he's at ease.

"Hey, YN." He greets, posture straightening. "That's quite the situation you've got there." He says, hands gesturing towards you and how Jays arms seem to be wrapped around you without a thought of letting go.

"Yeah," You agree with a huff, feeling out of breath. "I could use some help actually."

Rolling your eyes at the boy, you accept your faith, realizing how alike the two best friends are. "Thanks…" You trail off. "Is there a room I can put Jay in? I think he's gonna pass out."

Without missing a beat, Jake replies. "Nah." He smirks. "I think you've got it under control."

"Yeah, there's a guest room upstairs. Just go up. Last room to the right." He points towards the flight of stairs and you nod, taking the information in before you grip Jays body tighter as you make your way up the stairs and into the room the blondie told you to go to.

Opening the lights inside the dark room, you try not to stumble and fall to the ground, feeling your grip loosening. In fear of dropping the poor boy on the hard ground, you quickly waddle towards the bed and gently plopping Jay down into the soft mattress.

Attempting to untangle his arms from your neck proved to be difficult as the boy just seemed to bound himself to you like steel. No matter how hard you try, Jays resolve doesn't falter, leaving you with no choice but to lay there awkwardly until he falls asleep.

"YN~" You hear his sudden voice call out to you in the same drunk and dragged out manner. "Stay~" He pouts.

All you do is smile at his cuteness, reaching a hand up to sway his bangs away from his face. "Go to sleep, Jay. Get some rest." You say as your hand stays on the crown of his head, scratching his scalp.

At the act of service, Jay groans contently under your touch. "You're so pretty YN." He sighs, drunk eyes watching you take your jacket off in a dreamlike manner.

This time, you laugh, both at his drunken confession and because of the look on his face. Sober Jay would never confess that you were pretty aloud— not in this way at least. When complimenting you, Jay always had more creative ways to get his message through, whether it's by teasing you or by using his corny ass pick-up lines. Still, those simple words made your heart flutter and so, in a whisper, "You're pretty too." you say.

A dopey smile makes its way onto the boys face, undoubtedly feeling satisfied with your answer. "Lay down with me." He commands.

Although you know he's just being playful, you still wanted to tease him back by lecturing him and you were about to do just that before he suddenly pulls you down under him. All the air gets knocked out of your lungs, the action taking you by surprise. With wide eyes, you stare baffled at the man position on top of you, body placed between your legs while his face hovers only mere inches above yours. "J-Jay?" Hearing yourself stutter, you almost curse yourself for being so easily vulnerable.

Despite you calling out to him, Jay doesn't move an inch off of you, only moving nearer and in the heat of want and need, you do too. Quite frankly, now that he's so close, your senses fill with every bit of the boy. His cologne is the only thing you can smell, your bodies are practically pressed against each other, and with his face so close to you, he's the only thing you can see. The only thing missing is the taste of him then you'll be complete, the both of you will. And it seems like that's just what's about to happen because before you knew it, your surroundings seemed to move in slow motion, the only thing making sense is him as his nose touched yours, eyes begging for progress.

Satisfied with his silent plea, you bring your faces closer and let him get a taste of what it's like to be engulfed by you. Both yours and Jays eyes are now closed, lips awaiting to collide and when it does, an endless spray of fireworks seem to erupt. You kiss him light and gentle, afraid he'll regret his actions and pull away. But when he doesn't, your heart melts, feeling joyous at his acceptance.

It's not only you who feels that way, but also Jay, maybe even more so. He's the one that fell in love with you first, thus, meaning he's waited the longest out of the both of you. He tried to keep his emotions at bay, but the beer in his system seemed to have other plans as what Jay thought would be an innocent night where the two of you can get to know each other now turned into a hot makeout session. Jay isn't complaining however, how can he when he thought this was only possible in his dreams?

When the plush feeling of your lips leave his, Jay craves for more and you happily dive back into him. This time, you kiss him harder just like he requested. The whine he lets out just fuels your sex drive even stronger and you're determined to ruin him.

"YN," He calls with his eyes closed, feeling breathless. You reply to him with an airy hum, hands caressing the wide of his chest under his shirt, nails barely grazing over his nipples before wrapping them around his waist so you can continue teasing him with your hips. "S— ah, stop. I— I might…"

The feeling of having you, kissing you, feels so surreal to the boy. It's like a dream and he's just waiting to wake up and feel reality crashing down and disappoint him. He can't help but compare it to the numerous wet dreams he's had of you, except this time, it's all real. You're really making out with him, you're really putting your tongue inside his mouth and he's letting you.

The wet muscle of your tongue explores the space of Jays mouth as his hand possessively roams around your figure. His hands trail between the valley of your breasts to the curve of your hips and roots them there. The grip he has on you only gets tighter when you retract your tongue from his mouth to suck on his lips instead. His mouth hangs ajar, his loud moans spilling out uncontrollably, feeling your hips grinding up to rub on his boner.

"Might, what?" You ask, voice laced with ego while cocking an eyebrow up as you watch him struggle to form words knowing that you're the cause of it. "Baby can't speak now?" You pout, cooing at the quivering boy on top of you.

With the feeling of you tapping his cheek so affectionately, Jay groans in embarrassment. "You're the one getting worked up." He teases back in an attempt to collect the pieces of his pride that's been chipped off, digging his knee into your clothed vagina, wanting to get a reaction out of you. Instead, it's him who ends up moaning, throwing his head back when he feels the mixture of your heat and wetness through the fabric of his pants which, by the way, he was just dying to take off. His teasing seems to be for nothing because you just lay there all pretty whilst agreeing to everything he says as you couldn't deny the fact that his words were all true. He is making you hot and bothered and there's no use in denying it.

Your confidence only makes Jay harder, now grunting at his failed attempt to fluster you. At this point, Jays pants are suffocating and he desperately wants to tear them off. He feels like he's getting blue balled and that has never happened to a hot boy like him. With you, Jay experiences all sorts of firsts; first crush, first love, first blue balls— he could do with the last one, but in the end, he wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.

"YN, please." He begs, practically on the verge of tears as his cheeks blossom a deeper shade of red, both because of the heat your body exudes and your words. "Do something— Oomf!"

Ignoring Jays pleas, you catch the boy by surprise by flipping the both of you over. Now, you're on top of him and he's below you, looking up, like how it should be. As Jay lies down with his arms bent at the same level of his head, you take your place and sit on top of his lap, feeling his erection pressing into your heat.

"There we go." You chuckle, looking down at the boy and leaning closer to his face. Thinking that you're going to kiss him, Jay leans up in expectation, only to chase your lips up when you pull away. Jay prepares himself for an endless night of teasing, now practically sober yet it feels like he's getting drunk again. It's just that this time, it's not because of the alcohol, but because of you. "Isn't this better, Jay?"

"It was better when I was on top of you." He says, snarkily.

"Ah," You sigh out, realizing what Jay's doing. "You aren't going to make it easy for yourself, are you, baby?"

"Yeah," He laughs, loving the way he's rilling you up. "Fuck you." Both Jays body and mind tries his hardest not to show a reaction when you had called him by his favorite pet name and he almost succeeds, but alas, Jays dick has different things in mind.

Feeling his dick twitch under you, you can't help but laugh at his pathetic attempt to mask his emotions. "Oh come on, baby. Don't act like a brat now." You coo, steadily grinding down onto his dick. "We both know you're just dying to please me."

With every motion of your hips grinding on Jays boner, he can't help but choke on his own saliva, feeling his mind growing dizzy with every act. "YN… Do something."

Both yours and Jays body crave to be touched, to be against each other and so, you do just what your bodies want. Leaning forward, you bring your lips to his. Initially, you had planned to tease him further with light feathery kisses but the thought soon flew out the window when Jay tried to make it dirtier by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. The innocent, teasing kiss soon turns into a hot and messy make out session as you gladly suck on the muscle of his tongue, soon falling in love with every sound that falls outside his lips.

Your hands make their way to Jays face, holding his face steady as you angle your face to the side in order to deepen the kiss. Jays eyes are closed, too occupied with kissing you that if he were to open them and see the mouth watering view of you on top of him, he'd just cum in his pants and that's the last thing Jay wants to do.

Brushing his bangs back, your fingers then thread onto the strands of his hair, tangling them before pulling his head back so you could have free access to his neck. Your mouth leaves his and he almost whines at the loss of contact before he cuts himself off with a whimper when he feels you lick a thick stripe from the bottom of his neck to the edge of his jaw.

"You're such a whiny little thing, Jay." You comment, breath fanning his neck and effectively sending shivers down his spine. You don't give him a chance to reply before your mouth latches onto the skin of his neck, sucking and biting enough for it to give Jay the harsh feeling of pleasure but not enough to leave marks. The said boy releases a string of curses, mouth falling open as he doesn't even bother to conceal the desperate moans in his chest.

Your tongue licks at the bump of his adams apple before taking it in your mouth. When Jay gulps, his adams apple moves and you chase it, humming delightfully when you feel Jays fingers latching onto your shirt to get a grasp of reality. Effectively covering the skin with your saliva, you then move on to the line of Jay's jaw. You've been eyeing this specific part of his face for the longest time since you've met him. Whenever Jay would randomly pop up and decide to stick with you, you always take the chance to admire his jaw whenever he's looking away. You just know that if he ever catches you then you're in for a life of endless teasing. But now that he's here, willingly angling his head to the side to show off his stunning jaw to you, you can't help but greedily feast on it. There's not a chance in this world you'd pass up the opportunity to do whatever you wanted to him. And you do just that; you use your tongue to trace the sharp line of Jay's jaw, peppering it with kisses from time to time. As you kiss him, Jay's hands rake your scalp, trying to find something to hold onto as you cover him with your scent.

After all that's done, you take a look at the dishevelled man under you. His forehead is shining with a thin sheet of sweat, lips plump and swollen due to the endless amounts of kissing the both of you did, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath he takes, and lastly, the hint of his abs peeking through his shirt is what sends you over the edge. Your mouth is watering, searching for something to do just to get a bigger reaction out of him and not to mention the fact that your wetness is practically seething through the thin layer of your jeans.

"Wait, shit. I forgot," Suddenly, your hands stop from pulling his boxers out. Feeling edged, Jay lets out a choked sob, followed by a loud whine. He looks at you expectantly, eyes begging for you to just forget whatever it is. "Condom, honey. Do you have one?"

You want to fuck Park Jay so bad, you're willing to beg for it. Luckily, it's Jay who breaks first. With stray lines of tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Jay begs, "Please, YN. Fuck me, please, please."

And that's all he had to say before you quickly took his pants off and threw them to the ground in a hurry, unafraid to show your own eagerness.

A condom, a fucking condom. That's what's banning Jay from getting his noodle wet. He's about to throw a tantrum, it's going to be loud, childish, and annoying. You can just tell from the way his face consorts in disapproval that you're going to be dealing with a bigger brat if you don't give baby Jay what he wants. But at the end of the day, your point is valid, and as Jay rummages through his pockets in search of a condom, he fails to find any. You watch him as he leans to his side, looking through the drawers of the bedside table, practically resembling a starved dog scavenging for food when he cries out, and you can only take that as a sign that there isn't any here.

"None?" You watch him amused, a smile dancing across your face. Leaning close, you take his head and cradle him to your chest, attempting to console the boy.

"There's none!" He screams out, pouting as he digs his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. "YN~ My balls are hurting." He whines, kicking his legs behind you.

Acknowledging his pain, you pat the boys head before leaning away. "I'll go get one, yeah?" You ask.

Like an excited child, Jay hurriedly nods while watching you get up from his lap and standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. "Hurry hurry."

"Oh, don't sound so eager, Jay. You look like you're just begging for me to fuck you." You chuckle, hands resting on your hips.

"But I am, though." He finally admits. Jay bites his lip when he sees you coming closer before pecking him, telling him that you'll be quick and ordering him not to move.

You don't even get ten steps away from the room before you see Yunjin leaning against the wall with her hands crossed in front of her chest. She turns to you, giving you a once over. "Oh, it's you." She says before scoffing. "I didn't think Jay would be able to win this year because of you, but I guess that man's just has his ways, huh?"

Like a million pound truck sending you flying aback, or like a bucket of ice cold water being poured onto you, you're frozen, unable to move as reality comes crashing down onto you. Your heart beat stops and for a moment, you thought it would stay that way forever before she speaks again. "Oh?" She asks with interest, a smirk playing across her lips as she tilts her head to the side in order to provoke you. "Did you really think Jay, the Park Jay, wanted to fuck you because he loved you? Did little miss artsy YN fall in love?"

Why does loving someone always has to come with a catch? You guessed that this is why it hurts so much, because love is sinful and unforgiving. Just when you were ready to let him inside your bubble, thinking that he'd take care and cherish it with you, instead, he popped it with little to no care.

Blood rushes through you and you can feel your knuckles itching for contact. Yunjins face looks so punchable right now and you just want to ever so lightly tap it. How can you be so stupid to forget? To think that all the teasing, all the pick-up lines, and all the moments you shared together were just part of his stupid plan to get you. Now, It all makes sense; Him suddenly growing interested in you and him acting like you're the most pretty thing in this crude world. In the end, it was all for show. And you knew it. From the beginning, you had already suspected that he was only getting close to you because you were apart of his fuck list.

But can you blame yourself? The adoration you felt with him was so addicting it felt real.

Maybe, that's how Jay worked. Maybe, that's the effect he has on people. You knew from the start that Jay was the type of guy to get whatever he wanted and yet, you were stupid enough to forget it all because you fell in love with him.

"You know, I didn't think you were going to be that easy to get, YN. But I guess I was wrong about you." She comments without you asking. "You're just a little two faced nerd looking for attention."

If you weren't coursing with anger before then you are now. Eventually, your knuckles turn a baffling shade of white due to the amount of strength you're putting on it and just when you were about to leave and head to your car, Yunjin breathes and that's all it took for your fist to collide with her jaw.

Despite the booming sound of music through the speakers, the crackling sound of her jaw breaking still finds its way to tear through the tensed air. Yunjin doubles back, palm cupping her jaw as she looks at you with shock and bafflement. You can feel her hatred for you bubbling up, but you don't care. You leave her there despite her enraged calls for you to come back and fight her again, to show the world who you truly are, but you tuck her voice at the back of your mind as you make your way down the stairs and out of the fucking mansion.

You're enraged with hatred and disgust, both for the boy and Yunjin. The more you think of it, the more you realize that you should've thanked her actually. Because of her, you've finally come to your senses. If it weren't for her, there's a possibility you would've given in to his plan and lost all sense of your pride. Making a mental note to apologise to her soon, you speed up your car, trying to erase all the memories you have of the boy in your mind.

Too caught up in your own feelings, you don't realize that you've left Jay there in the guest room by himself, waiting for you to return. And he would've waited even longer if Yunjin hadn't staggered inside and told him that you left.

"Wh— Huh?" Jay asks, still surprised to see the girl inside the same room you two had made out in and promised to make love. "Did something happen? Is she hurt?" Jay rushes to button up his pants as he stands up from the bed, ready to look for you in case you really were in trouble.

"No," Yunjin says, sliding down the wall and planting herself on the carpeted floor. "She already knows, Jay. You don't need to pretend you like her anymore." She chuckles.

Jay looks at her with question marks practically floating above his head, wondering what the hell she was talking about. In fact, Jay doesn't even know who this girl is. When Yunjin sees this, she carries on to remind him. "The game, Jay."

That's when it finally hits him. You think that he's doing all this because of the game. Jay immediately goes into panic, mind creating alarming scenarios of you leaving him forever. He thinks he fucked it all up even though the game was the last thing on his mind at this point. He can't let you think that that's why he's doing this, he can't let you think that he isn't ready to do everything for you. He needs to confess and that's what he plans on doing.

Noticing the panic in Jays eyes, Yunjin finally realizes that this wasn't his objective, that this isn't what the boy wanted. Slowly, it dawns on her that the boy isn't doing this because of the game anymore. It's evident in the way he rushes to find his phone, feet jittering as he hurriedly taps on his phone to dial your number and when you don't answer, tears start spilling from Jays eyes.

"You love her," She asks, eyes concentrated on him as she too, is in shock. "Don't you?"

Looking blankly at your contact number on his phone screen, he answers, "Yeah," He gulps, mouth catching his lips, trying to conceal his whimpers. "I do."

My muse: YN, please answer. Let me explain.

A whole three hours have passed since you left Jay alone in Jakes mansion and the boy has never felt this depressed in his life. He had tried calling you a staggering total of 163 times, left messages asking to talk and yet, none were answered.

My muse: I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you. I never intended to make a fool out of you.

My muse: I need you, YN. Don't leave me, please.

My muse: Are you safe at least? Did you get home safely? I'm not sure if you brought your car so if you need me to bring you home just call me or send a message, anything's fine.

He was on the verge of stopping by every house in the city just to find you when Heeseung told him to go home and rest. The boys had been trying to comfort Jay for hours now, but nothing had seemed to work. Not being able to cope with the sadness mixed with the flashbacks of your rendezvous, Jay accepts his friends suggestion, going back to his own house where he can rest peacefully… or so he thought.

All this while, Jay had been absentmindedly carrying your jacket around like a lost puppy, the one you left in Jakes guest room. It's the one thing he has of you at the moment and he can't help but grip on to it like his life depended on this sole object.

He sighs as he plops down onto his bed, both feeling spent and exhausted. Jay wanted to sleep, he really did, but how could he when the memories of your night together flashes in his mind on repeat. Not to mention how your jacket sits there on his bed, tempting him to sin.

It's sad, he knows. The memories of you becoming too extreme and plus, he's too miserable. How did a night so perfect become this disastrous?

Tonight, Jay was about to confess his undying adoration and maybe, you were going to do the same too. But it was all ruined because of something so trivial. Yet, how can he blame you? If he found out you only looked at him because of a game, he would walk out too, maybe even do something even worse.

But that's not the case for Jay. There's not a single hint of doubt in his body that he loves you. But then again, you didn't know that. If only he had just confessed to you sooner, then maybe, this could've all been prevented. And because of his actions, he lost you. So, for now, as he spends the night wide awake, Jay tortures himself as his mind dive into the memories of both you and him, to the times you spent together doing something as simple as sitting next to each other and to the ones where he almost made love to you.

His mind drowns in all the possibilities; of you under him, on top of him, beside him. It's all making Jays mind fuzzier. The line between imagination and reality blurring as his erotic fantasies intensify. Forgive him. He knows it's not the time to be feeling this way, but what else can he do when you left him in the middle of the night, hard and horny. He's already cried his heart out, maybe now is the time to temporarily mend it.

Yeah, let's just patch it up with tape for now.

Jay is boisterous and never easily flustered when it came to topics like sex. If so, then why is he shaking?

His hands continue to trail around his stomach, thinking that it'd be an image you'll be impressed in. Jay takes pride in his physique because after all, he's trained ruthlessly for over three years just to get this kind of body. So, of course, he's going to want you to put at least some attention to it.

Eyeing the grip he has on your jacket, Jay debates whether or not to do it before finally saying fuck it. In a desperate attempt to keep his emotions at bay, Jay covers his face with the fabric of your jacket. The cloth is covered in your scent and it's intoxicating to him as only a few moments ago, you were the only thing in this world that he could feel, taste, hear, and smell. It's a simple perfume and it doesn't suffocate his nostrils when he inhales it.

As he does, the scent of you fills his systems and he's yet again reminded of the things that happened in Jakes guest room. He wonders what else you would've done if the two of you went further. Thinking like you're doing it to him, Jay begins by trailing his hand up to rest on top of his abs, caressing and tracing the soft skin. His breath hitches as he inhaled, getting another strong whiff of your scent coated on the jacket. "YN," He sighs.

Eventually, the light caresses he's making are just not enough anymore. He wants something stronger, something to distract him from his sorrows. Wanting to do so, Jay grazes his fingers on top of his nipples, stimulating them as he breathes in once more, nostrils filling with your scent before pulling the jacket off his face. His brows are furrowed, feeling the way his mouth waters at the actions he had been planning to do. Jay releases a small whimper when he finally moves tug on his nipples, imagining it's you doing it to him. Jay has never touched his nipples while misturbating before and he'd never once thought of doing it. Not until he got a taste of you.

Wanting to get a better simulation of your wet lips on his body, he takes his fingers in his mouth and coats them with a thick layer of his own saliva before using it to pinch his nipples, tweaking the bud in his own fingers. It's only then does Jay notice the red colored tint that managed to mix with his saliva. It's the remnants of your lipstick that got smudged onto his mouth. This time, the boy releases a loud and drawn out moan, the scenario feeling all too real for his rotting brain.

"YN," He moans. "I l-love you." He chokes out the confession in between pants.

As time goes on, Jays pants start to suffocate him, his boner getting harder the more he plays with himself as the various different scenarios of you on top of him plague his mind.

The only position Jay could imagine the both of you in right now is you on top, taming and punishing him like the brat he is. He applauds himself for coming up with such a logical scenario. It's the only one that makes sense.

Bunching up your jacket into a small ball, Jay presses the fabric onto the bulge of his pants, imagining it as your cunt instead. He shuts his eyes close, head throwing back at the slightest stimulation. Jay flexes his jaw when he grinds his hips upwards into the fabric as he holds it in place. He feels ashamed of his actions. It's something he thinks a sane person won't do, but at the end of the day, is Jay still right in the head?

But it'll have to do for now. While he doesn't have you in his arms, he's going to have to make do with what he has.

He's not. It's clear in the way he hurriedly plies his pants off that he's not able to think clearly anymore. He wants you to ride him, wants to feel himself deep inside your pussy. But he can't because he's a stupid fucking piece of shit that can't get his priorities straight. Maybe if he had just remembered to tell you about how the game is fucked and that he doesn't care about it, then maybe, it would have been you on top of him right now instead of this makeshift pocket pussy.

With his goal in mind, Jay wraps the whole of your jacket around his dick. His hands hold the fabric in place, suffocating his dick with your scent as his hands start to guide it up and down. Endless rays of moans, whimpers, and groans spill out of Jays mouth, the sound of your jacket rubbing on his dick making his mind grow crazier. Like a broken record, Jay chants your name over and over as he continues to jack off.

That's how Jays night went. Despite the pleasure he received from his high, Jay was still depressed and sad. Now, however, it's mixed with a sense of shame and guilt, both at the fact that despite losing you, his mind still managed to come up with dirty scenarios of you together and because he soiled your jacket with his cum.

It's no worries though, he can just get it dry cleaned before giving it back to you. Shame your scent won't be on it anymore, but maybe it's for the best since his mind might make up erotic fantasies of the both of you again.

"Alright, ladies! Come over here." Heeseung calls and tuts for his team to come closer. He continues once all of his members are gathered around him. "Coach is out today. Something about getting his balls cut off." He informs, voice monotone with disinterest as his eyes never once leave the clipboard he's holding.

"As per his majesty's request, we're going to be doing 30 laps around the field today—" His words get cut off with a series of protests and groans coming from his own team. "Don't make me up to 60."

"3 reps of 200 Bench presses, 150 military presses, 150 squats. After that we're going to do deadlifts. Coach said Sunoo and Jungwon need to gain more muscle. So…" Heeseung continues to list on, reading the exercise routine their Coach provided for them while he's away.

Listening from the back, Jay eventually tunes out Heeseungs voice once he moves on to personal exercises. Instead, he diverts his attention towards the bleachers where multiple girls begin occupying the seats as per usual. It's normal for their fan girls to begin taking their seats once classes are over, wanting to catch a glimpse of one of them naked and sweaty. Jay doesn't mind the attention, however. What he does mind is how he still can't seem to find you anywhere. The boy has been searching for you for a whole day now. The two of you had literature class today and he was going to take that chance to talk and explain himself to you. But when he stepped into class, you were nowhere to be seen. You blonde little friend wasn't there either so it wasn't like he could ask her for your whereabouts. He could only pray that the two of you just decided to ditch literature class today as there's a dark corner in his mind that thinks you might have transferred to a different class, or maybe even a different school. But he knows better than to think that, especially when he finally saw the said blonde there, sitting on one of the bleachers. To Jays dismay though, there was no trace of you.

Ignoring Heeseung's call and his teammates' wandering glances, he joggs over to where your friend sat. She lets out a surprised yelp, quickly composing herself when she sees the man standing in front of her so suddenly out of nowhere.

"Hey," Jay casually greets her and then asks, "Liz, right?"

"Yes…" She drags, tilting her head to the side, eyes shifting back and forth between Jay and everywhere else as she begins to feel flustered under his intimidating aura.

"Do you know where YN is?"

An excited squeal escapes Liz's lips, struggling to contain her excitement when the question leaves Jays mouth. Liz is an innocent little thing and an oblivious one at that. No doubt, she's a friend you can come to when you're in need of a shoulder to cry on or a body to seek comfort in, but you can never lean on Liz when it comes to topics like relationships. In the best way possible, Liz is an airhead dreamer. Liz always looks as if she's in a different world, a world filled with her likes. She's tooth achingly nice and almost as pure as milk. There's not a bad bone in the girls body and that's why you love her to bits. Sure, there are times when she breaks character, but mostly, that's because she senses trouble in people. It's like the time when Yunjin dissed you and Liz fired back with her own reply. She's different and you can only curse her mother for letting her watch Harry Potter's Luna Lovegood on repeat as a child as there's no doubt in your mind that that was the reason for Liz's behaviour. But, nevertheless, you love the girl to death.

That's the reason why Liz is still fond of Jay. When her dear friend came to her that night to cry her heart out, she comforted the girl in her arms, hushing her and telling her that everything was alright despite not knowing the horrors she just experienced.

Liz didn't know what happened and if she asked, she knew you wouldn't tell her. So, she sticks to consoling you despite whatever events took place, oblivious to the fact that the man standing in front of her was the cause of it all. Maybe, not telling Liz was a mistake. Maybe, you should've tried using everything in your power to make her understand that this world isn't full of butterflies and roses. Instead, you should teach her the truth, that this world is unforgiving, so many worshipped God's and yet none of them take pity on you. But, despite what you think, you just can't taint her. Let her think that the world is wonderful, that everyone has kindness in their hearts. You'll carry all the burden just so she could stay happy.

"She's in the art room!" Liz eagerly replies, smiling crazily at the boy as the thought of Jay and you together still plague her mind. She's still convinced that you and Jay are meant together. Knowing Liz, she'll do whatever it takes if she thinks it'll make you happy and right now, she thinks that bringing Jay to you will help her achieve her dream. "You should go now. The art room is usually empty around this hour, so YN is the only one there." She ushers.

Smiling appreciably, Jay nods and thanks her gratefully. Jay doesn't question why YNs supposed best friend sells him the information so easily. Aren't best friends supposed to hate the guys who made their friends cry? Oh god, Jay didn't even think about it before, but he could've made you cry. The thought just makes Jays heart ache even harder and the feeling of self disgust seeps back in his system again. Nonetheless, he's grateful that Liz is giving him the chance to make it up and explain himself to you. He's determined to do so and if things go better than planned, he might come back to your good graces.

Before making his way towards the art room, he makes a detour and heads towards his locker. There, hangs the same jacket you wore the night he was about to love you deeper and the same night where he had unintentionally broken your heart.

Securing the jacket in his hands, he catches a whiff of your scent on it and he can't help but bury his face in it, savouring and trying to imprint your scent into his brain. The possibility of losing you is great. If you decide that you don't want Jay anymore, he'll at least have your scent to carry him out through his life. Stray tears leave his eyes at the thought, heart wrenching as it struggles to handle such a sorrowful thought. He's praying to every God above and below for some sort of miracle, for him to be forgiven. He swears with his life that if some supernatural phenomenon does happen and you end up loving him, Jay's not going to mess around anymore. He's going to be yours to own solely. He's going to turn his life around for good. Fuck that wretched game. Fuck winning. He doesn't care about any of it at all. If he's being honest, even if you don't take him back, he's never going to participate in playing that silly game ever again. There's not a chance in this world he's ever going to get over you and there's an even bigger chance that he's never going to have sex with anyone else other than you. Abstinence is fine, he doesn't care. He knows he's not going to get you back with that, but he's trying to make a statement here, people. And plus, he has to start somewhere, right?

Peeking inside through the small gap he made on the door, he finds you sitting in front of a canvas with your back turned to him. Just like what Liz said, there was no other occupant in the room, but you.

With your back turned to him, he's able to see what you're painting on your canvas. It's a picture of what seems to be a field of green. A huge tree is painted on the side of the canvas while two figures of a couple seem to be sitting down on a blanket. He stares at your canvas in awe, amazed at how something so breathtaking can come out using only someone's mere hands. His eyes are entranced, unable to look away as you stroke your brush on the canvas with so much confidence, unnerved of the possibility of making any sort of mistake. But, even if you were to ever make a wrong stroke, he's already sure that with the way your hands move so freely on the canvas, you can make even the ugliest of things attractive.

"If you're going to keep staring at me like that then just come in. You aren't really doing a subtle job at stalking me." Your voice catches Jay off guard. It makes him stumble on his own feet, falling down on his butt on the ground, slamming the door back on the wall with him along the way. Jay's cheeks flare up as once again, he has embarrassed himself in front of you.

"S-Sorry." He stutters out, feeling flustered now that he's in your presence. Everything he's planned to tell you dissipates and it feels like he's choking. Your tone is vicious and it's clear to Jay that you're angry at him. He has to compose himself fast so he can't anger you any more by wasting your time. Taking a deep breath, Jay breathes in and out, trying to tame his heart. It proves to be harder than expected however when he locks eyes with you, brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line.

"Why're you here?" You ask in a tone so cold and monotone that Jay almost whimpers. It's been a while since you've used such a way of speaking with him. The last instance he could remember was when you had met for the first time. But even back then, your tone was welcoming to Jay in a sense that he could tease you.

This time, however, it's serious and you're angry. There's no room to joke, no room to tease and Jay feels like he's going to suffocate. He's never been this nervous to be around you. It's always him being comfortable, teasing, and messing around while you react to his jokes. This is too harsh for the poor boys heart and he just wants to be forgiven already.

"I— I came here… to… to—" He's mustering up the courage to speak, but it's hard when your stare is so intimidating.

You cut him off before he could stutter even more. "To, what? Don't waste my time, Jay." You say, harshly. "I don't want to see you right now so get to the point."

"Y-Your jacket!" He says, feeling a thin streak of sweat running down his temple as he utters out the first thing that comes to mind. "You left your jacket at Jakes house. Here." The boy murmurs before shuffling closer to you to pull out the said jacket you had left.

Looking at Jay blankly as if feeling dumbfounded, you then stare back and forth between him and his outstretched arm before taking the jacket from him slowly. At first, his grip on the jacket makes it seem like he doesn't want to hand it over to you. It's when you quirk an eyebrow up to question him does his grip relent, letting you take the jacket. "Thanks…"

You should be angrier, colder, you say to yourself. That was the initial plan; to live on the rest of your life ignoring Jay so you could forget about the love you have for him. But why is it that when the time came to execute your plan, you backed out? After what he did, your feelings should've been gone and yet, why do you feel such an immense sense of longing whenever you look at him and he's not by your side. It's impossible to ignore him, and it's even harder to do so when your heart yearns for his presence. It's suffocating having to be without him. You feel as if you were ripped in half, broken and can only be fixed by one person.

You wanted to be logical, you wanted to hear him out because maybe, just maybe, he actually cared for you. If he did and you didn't hear him out now, then you would've lived the rest of your life filled with sorrow and dread. You wait for him, watching him as he fumbles with the buttons of his practice attire.

"Do you need anything else?" You know your tone is harsh, but you can't help it. You want to show him that you're mad, that you want an explanation, but you can't beg. No, you just can't. So, instead, you give him the decision to flip the coin whether or not he's going to explain himself. You just want one thing to come out of his mouth besides the word sorry. Just one thing. You need to know if he's true, if what the both of you had was real, because if you don't, you're going to go crazy. Love makes you crazy and it's ruthless, but for Jay, you won't hesitate to dive back in and eperience every struggle.

"I… I wanted to say sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you, YN." He says as a few moments pass with the both of you just staring at each other, savoring your possible last moments together if either of you makes the decision to reject the other. Jay needed to get his act together and tell you how he feels. He wants you and he's willing to fight for it. "I just wanna say that… that I'm in love with you. I really do. And before you say anything, can you please let me explain myself?" He begs, eyes filled with desperation.

Silently, you nod, letting him let out the words he wants to say as you try to process his words. He loves you. The one phrase you wanted to hear from him, it's there, he just said it to you. All this time worrying about whether or not he actually loved you was all just for nothing. Deep inside, your heart feels alive and joyful. It may sound stupid, but with those simple words, you already feel like it's already worth forgiving him.

Watching Jay exhale almost made you want to giggle. But of course, wanting to intimidate him, you refrain from doing so.

"I love you, okay? A-And it's okay if you don't like me back. I mean, it— it isn't okay, but I would respect it." He stutters, cursing his awkward nature for coming out while he's in such a situation. "I just… My feelings for you, they were all real. Please believe me because I really do love you. My heart, I-It's never done this before, but whenever I think of you, it just starts hurting and it only stops when I'm finally next to you. I guess, in a way, you kinda… uhm, complete me." Feeling shy, he mutters the last part, debating whether or not it was too cheesy to say or not, but he ended up saying it either way out of nervousness.

When he looks back at you to see your reaction, you only nod. Taking that as a sign that you're permitting him to continue, he does. "A-And about the game. The game… I'll be honest with you, I completely forgot about it. I promise, I never intended to take pictures of you that night. Honestly, just— just fuck the game, in general! Will you be my girlfriend, instead?" Jays mouth acts before he could stop himself from unintentionally spilling the words out.

Hear me out, it's not like Jay doesn't want you to be his girlfriend, he just doesn't think now is a good time to ask. Since you haven't said anything, you're still technically mad at him. He just couldn't help but feel carried away as he poured his heart out and of course, his heart also wanted to ask the very question he thought should come in last.

Jay slaps his mouth shut as he's struck with bafflement. "I— I'm so sorry, YN! Ididn'tmeantoaskyouthatallofasudden. Iknowarelationshipisthelastthingyouwantfrommeanditotallyunderstanditifyourejectme!" He stammers all in one breath in an attempt to redeem himself.

Thinking he had completely fucked up his chances, Jay takes buries his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at you. Perhaps, if he looked up, he would've seen the amused smile on your face as you watch the boy cringe at himself. He continues to drown himself in embarrassment, chanting an endless degree of apologies as you sit there. Eventually, you start to giggle as you watch him. The euphoric noise pulls Jay out of his self-humiliation, now looking at you with unbelieving eyes as he watches you continue to burst into a fit of giggles. Throwing your head back as you clutch your stomach while wiping the non existent tears in your eyes, eventually making Jay realise that you aren't mad at him anymore.

Still though, he looks at you warily, wondering if this is a trap and that you're actually about to yell at him. He waits for a scream to tell him to leave, but nothing comes. "YN?" He asks you when you've calmed down.

"Oh, Jay." You manage to say in between deep breaths as you try to compose yourself. "You're just the cutest thing ever."

"I.. Wh—" He stumbles on his words, unsure of what to say nor what's happening. "Huh?"

He's just too cute! Ugh, you just want to squish his cheeks together. It's as if all the anger in your body has eroded with those simple words of affirmation. Honestly, it might seem like you're letting him get off the hook so easily, but what can you do? The boy has you wrapped around his fingers.

"I…" He trails off, unable to form words as he stands with your arms wrapped around the span of his thighs while your head rested on top of his toned stomach. "You really don't hate me?"

Smiling, you open your arms for Jay, spreading your legs in the process so he can step closer to you. When he does, you take him in your arms in a huge hug.

Jays body grows stiff, the situation still feeling odd to him. It was that easy? He was so ready to drop down his knees in front of you and start begging for you to take him back, to call himself worthless, to tell you that he's really really changed and that if you didn't believe him, he'll try his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affection.

Chuckling against his stomach, you nod, head rubbing on his skin before you tighten your arms around him as if to prove that you were serious. You can feel the boys sincerity through his words; how honest and true his feelings are. Although your wall has already been slowly chipping down, now, you let it fall completely. Your guard is no more and you've willingly pulled it down for only Jay to enter.

This time, you're dedicated not to make anymore accusations. You believed in Yunjin too quickly, and that was your fault. You put yours and Jays relationship at risk, and that was also your fault. Even though you've made so many mistakes, Jay is still at your front door, knocking and asking if he could enter. Despite hurting him, he's still begging for you to take him back. In a way, you feel bad for Jay. There's a part of you that thinks that because you've hurt him so much, you shouldn't have the privilege of being with him anymore. But Jay only wants you; your love, your touch, and your kisses. He doesn't want anyone else and he's willing to take the pain that comes with loving you because after all, what's love without a little pain? Jay's a masochist after all.

"I hope you know I'm not going to continue playing your little game, Jay." You say as you pull away to get a good look at him.

"I wasn't going to ask you to play the game in the first place." He replies, confidence slowly building up as the hope for a romantic relationship with you bubbles. "But if you want, you can just play with me instead."

Taking a bold move, Jay leans his face downwards, closer to yours. Jay eyes the way you bite your lips while your own locks onto the attractive cut in the middle of his bottom lip. You want to lick it, to kiss it again, but you hold yourself back, wanting to tease the boy more.

At his offer, fire spreads through your eyes like wildfire and it doesn't help the fact that he's so close to you as you try to contain yourself from jumping him. Jay looks so hot when he's confident, when he's cocky. You remember a time where you used to hate this look on him and his other peers, but look at you now. With Jays classic smirk on his lips, it sets your mind into a frenzy and you're on the verge of losing all your self control. It's only a matter of time until you break, but you hope to god Jay crumbles first, for the sake of your pride.

You can see the determination in Jays eyes and it only makes you swell with pride how eager the boy is to have you. With that being said, you wonder and ask him with a teasing tone. "Are you normally this shameless Jay?"

"Shameless?" He asks in such an innocent manner you almost forget how close he is to you without your permission. "I'm only like this towards you." He says, smiling cheekily.

"Ah," You let out, nodding your head before telling it to the side. Smirking, "You don't let girls go down on you normally, hm?"

"No," He answers, eyes trained to you and voice sounding far off and breathless as if in a trance. "Only you."

That's it. That was the last straw and now, your resolve is completely broken. The initial plan to keep things PG is thrown out the window. Now, you just want to have him, kiss him, lick him, break him.

Just like how he's so in control whenever he's in the field, you're going to play with him whichever way you want.

"Aw," You coo, hands brushing his hair back before using your nails to scratch behind his ear, like how you would when tending to a cat. "Is my kitty that needy?"

With the way Jays eyes look, you can tell he wants to close the gap and bring himself closer to you, however, before he could, your hand squishes both his cheeks as you hold him in place. Dejected, Jay whines and his mouth forms into a pout. His eyes plead for you to let him near and you're certainly not blind to the way his eyes yearn pleadingly while looking at the smirk coating your lips, silently begging for you to let him kiss you. Jay's used to getting what he wants, and he wants you. You're willing to give him what he wants of course, but not without teasing him first.

Having been caught so easily, he blushes at your question, wanting to look away in embarrassment, but your grip on his cheeks are hindering him from doing so. Then, he whines, both from the restriction and the nickname you gave him. "Answer me first, please." He meekly says, voice sounding small.

"Answer what, kitty?"

Jay blushes even harder, whining as he knows damn well you're aware of what question he's talking about. "Be my…" He starts, but his voice falters afterwards when he catches you staring at him with a teasing smirk on your face.

Biting your lips to conceal your laughter, you continue to mock him, loving the flustered look on someone so boisterous like Jay. "Be your, what?"

"Fuck," He mutters when you decide to take your teasing one step farther by standing up and wrapping your arms around the small of Jays waist, pulling his body close to you to the point where your noises touch. "Will you… be… my girlfriend?"

"There you go, baby." You say in a childish tone, applauding Jay for finally being able to mutter the question. Hearing another pet name come out of you makes Jay even shier than he was before, head now burying into your neck as he tries to conceal his feverous blush. "But, yes, Jay. I'll gladly be your girlfriend."

Fireworks erupt in Jays stomach, now feeling even bubblier as you accept him as your boyfriend. Unable to contain his happiness, Jay buries his head deeper into your neck while his buff arms wrap around your thighs so he can lift you up and spin you around. Both yours and Jays laughter fill the vacant room, uncaring whether or not someone in the halls might hear. They'll think the two of you are crazy, but you don't care. All you care about is the happiness of finally being complete and whole.

"Can I kiss you now?" Jay asks all too quickly as he carefully sets you down.

Laughing at your boyfriends eagerness, you nod, letting Jay capture your lips in his.

The kiss is innocent and light, but most importantly, it's perfect. It's not your first time kissing Jay, yet, there's something different about this time. Maybe, it's because now, neither of you are intoxicated. Maybe, because now, the two of you have shown your love for each other. Neither Jay nor can you suppress your joyous smiles as the both of you continue to kiss each other despite your teeth hitting from time to time.

You hold Jays head still so you could properly kiss him and this time, you don't hesitate to kiss him harder in order to show how much passion and care you have for the boy. Of course, Jay immediately responds. It's like his second nature now. If you kiss him, his body automatically moves to answer even before his brain can process what's happening.

Jay tilts his head to the side, deepening your kiss and letting out a muffled moan when you slide your tongue past his mouth. For the second time, he lets you explore every crevice of his mouth, tangling his tongue with yours from time to time. You hum into the kiss when you feel Jays hands slide down to cup your ass. If it were any other day, you would've slapped Jays hand away while you scolded him, telling him how bold he's getting without your permission. But for now, you let him enjoy himself, let him explore and caress every part of your body. It's like he's trying to familiarise himself with his new property and like any other new owner, he wants to see everything bare and naked.

When you bite down hard on his lip, Jay whimpers, hand clutching your shirt as he looks at you with a gaze that tells you he wants something. Releasing the skin with one final nibble, he talks, "Let me fuck you."

Jay should've seen it coming. He knows you're a tease, and that you'd never let him take the easy way in life. When you chuckle at his request, he knows he's in for the time of his life. "No."

"No?" He asks, unsure whether you really won't let him do anything despite showing the same amount of eagerness.

You hum, nodding. "No."

"Uhm, then…" He asks, shifting his weight between his legs awkwardly.

"I have something else planned for you." You tell him, a mischievous grin set on your face as your hand traces his shoulder in an attempt to help soothe his abnormally quick heartbeat "Be my muse again."

Dumbfounded, Jay looks at you with furrowed brows wondering why you so suddenly asked to paint him out of nowhere. But despite that, Jay agrees because at the end of the day, he'll do whatever you ask of him.

Seeing him nod, you bite your lips before giving his lips a quick peck. You guide him to sit on a chair a few inches in front of your easel. Placing yourself in between his legs, you ruffle Jays hair in a way that makes him look sweet and edible. You don't let a single hair go untouched as you hands rake his scalp and Jay only sighs in delight as he lets you do whatever you want to him and his body.

Finally deciding that you're done, you take a step back to admire the image of Jay that you've created; hair tousled like the two of you had been making out for hours, lips slightly swollen, and eyes looking at you wide and expecting.

You let out a hum in approval as Jay watches you saunter back to stand in front of your canvas. "Take your shirt off." You instruct while your eyes stay occupied with picking the colors you want to use for your portrait.

When you're finally able to draw out your palette, you look at Jay. You raise an eyebrow at him, ignoring the shocked look on his face as his shirt still clings onto his body. Realising that he hadn't misheard you, he quickly shuffles to take his shirt off, letting it fall gently onto the floor close to where he sat. He looks at you expectantly, wondering if there's anything else you'd like for him to do.

You let out a hum as you ponder, chin resting on your palms while you tap your feet on the hard ground. "Take your pants off too."

Now, Jay has an idea of what you want to do and he's just as excited as you are. So, after quickly kicking his pants off, he stays on alert for your next instructions.

"Oh, Jay." You dreamily sigh, looking at your boyfriend as if he was your prey. "You look so good right now. I can just eat you out."

The fog in Jays mind is moving quicker than usual as now, It's actually you talking to him and not just his imagination creating scenarios for him. The way you talk to him is making him go crazy and he can feel his dick in his pants rapidly hardening despite you not touching him.

"Do it." He tells you while his body looks for your touch.

When he looks at you with strong eyes, you only laugh at him. "Be good, baby. Don't wanna ruin my portrait, don't you?"

"Fuck the portrait. I wanna fuck you." He curses, voice strong and demanding, both traits you aren't seeking as of the moment.

You click your tongue at how disobedient Jay is, rolling your eyes as you warn him that if does something he isn't told to, he's going to get punished.

It's clear that Jay wants to challenge you when he shakes in his seat out of unruliness. It seems as if Jay doesn't believe your warnings, doesn't believe that you'll really punish him if he misbehaves. So, just to prove to him that your words are true and not empty threats, you walk up to Jay and yank his boxers down. Now, Jays dick is exposed to your stare and the cold air, both making Jays length harder. Initially, you had planned to take things easy and paint Jay while he's naked. But now that he's shown you his lack of respect, you're going to kick things up a notch by torturing him. It's a shame you didn't bring a vibrator with you, you could've used it on your brat, but no matter, you have other things planned that'll surely help you tame him.

Taking his dick in your hands, you let a thick glob of your saliva drop down onto his tip, spreading your lubricant around his dick while you jack him off. Jay immediately reacts by bucking his hips into your hand, choking out a surprised moan as he didn't expect for you to touch him so boldly. Despite you clicking your tongue at his actions, you love to see Jay getting desperate. Although your mouth drools at the sight of him fucking your hand while you jack him off, you hold his hips down, planting them on top of the seat as you continue to work on hardening his dick.

"Y-YN." He stutters, voice calling out to you as he closes his eyes and throws his head back in pleasure. "Keep… going."

Loving the reaction Jay's giving you, you gladly fasten the pace of your hand, seeking more of the noises he lets out. "That's it, kitty. Be a good boy and moan for me."

Now, Jay's panting, trying to catch his breath. Opening his eyes, he peeks a glance at you from between his spread legs, only to curse himself off for being so stupid as when Jay thought he could last atleast a few minutes before he blows, it's now cut to mere seconds, the image of you eyeing his dick with hunger making him too horny. "Stop! YN, please. Don't wanna… so soon…"

Hearing his cries, you slow your pace down a bit, grin only widening when you realise how quickly he's getting worked up. You let him recollect himself for a second before resuming back to work. This time, you press the palm of your hand on the tip of his dick. His head is leaking so much precum, it looks like it could amount to the same as your saliva. You collect him in your palm before going back down to the base of his dick. Jay lets out a strangled sob, the pleasure you're giving him feeling too good and despite his attempts to quiet himself down, he's just unable to when you're moving like you know every tick he has. The veins on Jays dick start to come out and it catches your attention so, you take your index finger and trace every vein on his dick with wonder.

It's not that long before Jay's own high starts building up, and this time he makes it a point to tell you without the intention of stopping. Jay places himself on the edge of his seat, orgasming approaching the faster you jack him off. You focus on his head, taking the head in your fist and circling your wrist. Jays orgasm is right around the corner and before he could reach it, you pull away, leaving him to choke on air while his orgasm dissipates.

You look at Jay with humorous eyes, tongue coming out to lick your lips at the image of him panting heavily with his back leaned onto the chair. When he finally opens his eyes, they're completely drunk. "You're so mean." He pouts, still hung over his ruined orgasm.

Jay looks at you speechless yet again as you never seem to fail to surprise him. He whines, trying to persuade you to come do it to him instead and give up on the painting, but all you do is shut him up, telling him that if he doesn't do as he's told, he's never going to cum.

"I told you to be good." You remind him. "Now, keep touching yourself while I paint you." You command, tossing his dick on his stomach before leaving him to go back and stand in front of your easel.

Noticing the mess on your hand, you smirk before quickly locking eyes with Jay, taking your fingers in your mouth to suck and clean them off as you lick the palms of your fingers. Through that, you got a small whiff of his taste, mouth now watering as you feel your patience running low.

Finally acknowledging your threat, Jay nods his head disappointedly. The boy takes his dick in his hand, finally getting to feel how hard he's gotten and it's painful having to endure more of it. He'll never admit it, but he loves this side of you, loves it when you over power him and boss him around. He'll try to hide his liking for it by misbehaving or by talking back as he knows he'll never hear the end of it if you find out how much he goes crazy for a couple of insulting words from you.

"Go on, big boy. Show me how pretty you are."

And with that, Jay immediately gets to work. Starting off by using the remnants of your spit on his dick, he starts gliding his hand up and down in a slow manner, trying to build up the stimulation so he doesn't get overwhelmed too quickly and cum. From his half opened eyes, he sees a glimpse of you dipping your wide brush onto the circular palette. He's tempted to ask you for a peek as Jay always gets excited whenever you paint him. He feels special whenever he gets to be your muse, often times wanting to do a good job both because it's a portrait of him you're doing and also because he plainly just wants to do his best for you so you could praise him.

It may not seem like it but Jay's a sucker for your praises. It's just masked by how often you scold him for teasing you, but what can the boy do? At this point, teasing is practically his primary love language. He loves the way you react to him when he teases you, how good you are at putting him back in his place. He lives for that shit; annoying you and then paying for it later on. It's an event he won't ever get tired of no matter how often or how long you two do it.

"Aw, baby." You coo, voice pulling Jay out of his head.

"Y— ngh, yeah?" He seethes out, dick twitching uncontrollably because of your stare.

"Your head looks so angry, kitty." You comment, chin nudging towards his direction.

Indeed, his head is angry and not only that, but his body feels like it's on fire. Your words provide him not a single drop of help with keeping his orgasm at bay, mind only going crazier as he listens to all the dirty words you throw at him. "That's a good boy. You look so hot right now, Jay. Painting you always feels so nice."

With the quickening pace of his hand, Jay can feel how close he is to cumming. His only regret is telling you because the moment he announces that he's about to cum, you tell him to stop.

Despite Jays willingness, his body only abides to your words and thus, he has no choice but to halt his movements. Jay cries out, small tears trickling down the corner of his eyes at having been denied his orgasm twice. With pleading eyes, Jay sends a look of longing towards you, however, it gets ignored as you busy yourself with finishing a rough outline of Jays body.

He calls out to you like a lost baby, pout only growing as he tries to make himself look cuter, hoping that you'd take pity on him. "Yes, baby?" You ask, head popping up at the side of the canvas to look at Jay.

"I need you, YN.” He answers, hand still wrapped around his dick as he bites down on his lip. The sight of him makes you wet and it's hard to resist him when he looks this amazing. Because of the sweat, Jays abs are now glistening, the light shining through the window highlighting each pack of his muscle. When Jay pumps his dick, his stomach can't help but clench involuntarily at the stimulation, making it so that his abs flexed at the motion in an arousing manner.

You can't take it anymore, even just the thought of him makes your pussy wetter. All you want to do is plant your hands around Jay and that’s exactly what you're planning to do— after you finish your portrait. Jay doesn’t need to wait longer though. You only need to do a few more messy outlines before finishing. To be honest, when you asked him to sit down and be your muse again, you didn't expect to get technical with all the details, knowing deep down how little self-control you have when it comes to handling Jay. Like him, you just melt with every slightest touch he gives. You’re just better at concealing it.

Finishing off the portrait with highlights on his biceps, you nearly throw both your palette and paintbrush away in a rush to get to Jay. You don't even try to conceal the eagerness in you as you capture Jays lips in yours, turning it into a full on makeout session not even seconds after. A hand comes up to tangle into the strands of his hair, pulling and gripping onto his locks, making Jay grunt as your other hand grazes over curve of his collarbone, nails scratching his skin from time to time, eliciting a moan from the boy under you.

Alas, you’re finally on him and it’s everything Jay has ever wanted. Gone is the poor simulation of you in his mind because it just doesn't compare to the real thing. You haven’t even done much to him and yet he’s already moaning into your mouth like your fucking him. Jay doesn’t care if he looks desperate anymore. He’s waited long enough and now that you’re here, he’s not going to hold anything back.

Jay whines when you leave his mouth, wondering why you’d put him through this misery. He ends up eating his words soon after though when he feels your lips kissing the side of his neck. The kisses you plant are ticklish, making Jay recoil and giggle. Finding him cute, you smile at your boyfriend with adoration, eyes twinkling with love as he continues to laugh when you chase him and dive back into his neck.

It’s cute for a moment while you plant a mix of short and sweet kisses all over Jays neck. Occasionally, Jay giggles, unable to contain his laughter as he grips on to your hips, making sure that you’re still close to him no matter what. However, the said innocent kisses soon turn into erotic ones when you sit yourself on his lap and right next to his erect penis. You take the same arm that used to be knotted in Jays hair, now placing them on top of his dick. Your lips go back to clash with his, spit mixing with each other as you let him suck on the bottom of your lip. Your hand starts pumping Jays dick at a languid pace, body leaning closer to his so that you’re chest to chest with him. Your free hand rests on top of Jays heart, feeling the rhythm of his heart beneath his skin.

Jay leans his head back, letting you kiss all over his throat. "Mark me."

"What’s the magic word, baby?" You ask, licking a long line on Jays neck.

Moaning, he answers, "Please. Please, YN. Mark me. Wan’ show everyone ’m yours."

"There we go." You tell him, patting his head. "That's a good, kitty."

As per his request, you start to suck on Jays neck harder with the intent of creating bruises on his skin. Jay thanks you with a loud moan, hand wrapping around your body as he thrusts up into your hand. You plant hickeys all over Jays skin, not forgetting to lick it better afterwards to soothe his abused flesh.

Time goes on with you and Jay just making out with each other, limbs tangling in a desperate attempt to be closer. It’s not enough anymore as both of your bodies start to crave each other harder— not to mention the fact that Jay’s leaking so much into your hand, you’re afraid his dick is going to have a serious issue if he doesn't come sooner. And so, using that as an excuse, you finally stand up to pull your underwear down and hiking the pencil skirt you wore upwards, letting it sit on your waist.

The boy stares at you with wide eyes filled with wonder, mouth hanging open as he eyes you pussy in front of him. Noticing his intense stare, you chuckle, finding him adorable even in this state. ‘’You want it, honey?’’

‘’God, yes. Give it to me.’’ Is that even a question? Of course he wants to have a taste of you. It’s all he’s ever been thinking about so, of course he’s going to say yes.

Wrapping his hands around your thighs, Jay pulls you to him abruptly, making you yelp. Spreading your legs apart, Jay slides his nose in between your folds and inhales your scent of arousal. Your hands ravel themselves into Jays hair where you feel his nose bump into your clit. You’re so horny, the slightest touch already has your knees weak.

Jay then gets to work when you push his head towards your cunt, taking that as his signal. His tongue dives into your wetness, immediately groaning against your vagina when he finally gets to taste you. The vibrations made by his mouth sends shocks of pleasure throughout your body, feeling it tingle harsher when Jay starts to lap onto your hole.

"Jay, baby," You moan, rolling your hips harder into his face.

Unable to talk, Jay replies to you with a hum, pressing his tongue harder and making you buck against his face. Jays pace picks up when he hears the way you’re moaning for him. He wants to hear more, wants to hear how good he is at eating you out. He’s desperate for more so, he shifts his attention from your hole to your clit instead, wanting to see your reaction. When Jay opens his eyes, he had to desperately pray to all the deities in this world just so he could compose himself and not cum at the sight in front of you. There you are, with your back arched, one hand pressed on to the back of his head to keep him place while the other tangles with your own hair. Your face is contorted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes closed, and lips caught in between your teeth, Your mouth opens from time to time to give Jay more affirmation, whether it’s in the form of moans, grunts, whines, or words, he doesn’t care, he’ll take what he can get.

"Baby— fuck," You hiss, thighs shaking as you feel your orgasm near. "I’m so close, baby. Keep going."

Only replying with a firm nod and a low hum, Jay fastens his movement onto your clit, circling his muscle around the bud. The action makes you go crazy, hands now gripping on to Jays hair with force as you concentrate on achieving your orgasm. It’s so near that you start shaking, moans growing louder when all of a sudden, everything is ripped away from you.

Jay backs away from you with a smirk, feeling proud of what he did as he grins at you in a cocky manner despite his mouth and chin being covered by a mixture of his saliva and your wetness.

You should’ve known that was going to happen. It’s Jays nature to tease you. Plus, you knew he’d get back at you for edging him so many times in the past. The thought just flew out of your head, too focused on the thought of cumming. Frustrated, you tug on Jay's hair, trying to get back at him for what he did. Even though you didn’t get the chance to cum, your thighs are still quivering like they did.

‘’Hey hey, you can’t get mad at me.’’ He says, backing off while he stays seated on the chair when he sees the way you eye him. ‘’If I don’t cum, you shouldn't either. We should cum together, riiight?’’ He says, dragging out the last word in a teasing voice.

‘’True,’’ You agreed before abruptly pulling him by his hand towards the huge table in the corner of the room. You take your place on top of the table, leaving him there to stand in between your legs. With your thighs spread open, Jay gets a clear view of your leaking vagina as well as your throbbing clit. Jays mouth waters at the sight, feeling enticed to just lean forward and eat you out again. But before he gets to, your legs wrap themselves around him, pulling him forward. His dick presses perfectly into your vagina and it even gets coated with some of your wetness. The two of you moan in unison, both desperate for their release.

As the both of you can’t wait any longer, you throw him the silver packet that’s been hiding inside your chest pocket, telling him to put it on. Jay does so without complaint, grateful that he’s finally getting some pussy after such a long time.

He almost can’t believe this is actually happening. He thinks that at any moment now, he’s going to wake up from this wet dream alone and without you. But now is not the time to dwell on such thoughts when you’re literally right in front of him, with your legs spread, eyes keenly watching as he slides the condom on his dick with shaking hands.

Jay lines himself with your cunt, breath quickening as he readies himself for what's to come. It's been awhile since he's done this with anyone, and the nerves are getting to him. Now that the real thing is hereward, all the skills he learned in the past seem to flow out of his head.

What if he doesn't perform well, would you be disappointed?

What is he even talking about? Of course you're going to be disappointed. All that talk about wanting to fuck you yet, he can't can't use his dick right. What kind of woman wants their man to be so incapable? Obviously, not you. Jay can tell from the way you carry yourself that you wouldn't lower your standards for anything other than perfect and yet, here Jay is, your boyfriend.

Still, his baseless doubts doesn't stop plaguing his mind. His breath is shaking, palms starting to sweat as he eyes your entrance. Jay wants to do good, show you that he's worth the risk you took. Jay's not a fool. He knows his reputation around school. That he's a manwhore that gets around by flirting with multiple girls at once. Not only that, but he knows how much you despise the varsity team. Yet, here you are, ready to let him fuck you. It means more to him than you think. You letting him be this close to you means that you trust him enough to show your most vulnerable parts and that just makes Jay even more nervous.

From where you laid, you watch with soft eyes as Jays hands start to shake. Your own hands shooing his off so you can put his dick inside you yourself. "You don't have to be so nervous, baby. Here, let me do it."

Placing the head of his dick inside your vagina, the both of you groan simultaneously. "Jay— fuck. You're so big, kitty."

Hearing you moan his name and compliment him at the same time makes Jays thighs tremble, the feeling of being inside is you is too overwhelming and he feels like his knees are about to fold. Noticing this, you take Jays hands in yours, letting them rest on the bottom of your stomach to provide him with some support.

He knows you're just trying to help him, but it really isn't working. Placing his hands there is only driving him nuts as once he was able to fully push his whole dick inside you, he got to feel the outline of his length inside when he pressed down on your abdomen.

"I… I can—" Jay's trying his best to talk, he really is, but whenever he tries, it just gets cut off with a sound of a sound of appreciation.

"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?"

Jay responds with a semi loud sob as he nods his head to your question.

"Take it easy, honey." You tell him, patting his cheek to console the worried boy. "I'm not going anywhere."

You're not going anywhere.

That's when Jay calms down. Hearing you say those words put his thoughts at ease. No matter what happens, you'll be there beside him so Jay shouldn't worry so much about messing up. He has your whole lives to love you, your whole lives to treat you like his queen. It makes Jay realise that he shouldn't be so caught up on trying to be perfect. I mean, he wants to perform well and he knows he'll achieve that when he shakes these invasive thoughts away. Now knowing what to do, Jay shakes to get a grip of himself and before you know it, he's already thrusting his hips into your cunt.

You release a dragged moan, hands pulling Jays head down so the two of you can kiss each other. Angling your head to the side, you put your tongue inside Jay and he gladly sucks on your muscle. Amidst the messy kiss you and Jay share, drool starts to seep past between your lips and pooling down your chin.

The urge to hold on to something arises and he can only think of your boobs to grip onto. Muttering the request to you, Jay's quick to act as the moment you tell him that he can, he's already ripping your blouse open and tearing your bra down. Jay leaves the sanctuary of your lips, wanting to give your boobs the attention they deserve. Your nipples lay there erect, inviting Jay on to lay his tongue flat on your nub. He licks the skin greedily before sucking on your skin harsher while he busies himself with groping your other breast.

Both his movements inside you and on your tits are driving your mind crazy and you can't help but scratch your nails onto his broad back, trying to grasp back a sense of reality. His movements are so good and so precise, you can feel yourself slipping between realities. Jay does a good job at finding the spot your crazy for the most as once you start to thrash around under his hold, he knew he was hitting your g-spot, and your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate to abuse it. It only makes you crazier, moans spilling out uncontrollably as it mixes with his own.

The noises Jay releases are euphoric and you don't hold back from commenting on it. "You sound so pretty, Jay. Keep moaning and I'm gonna cum."

Those words are what fuels Jay to thrust into you with more vigor. It's different from the casual pace he had used on you beforehand. Now, his pace is harder and rougher with the goal of making you cum in his mind. He wants to see you fall apart under him, wants to see the face and the noises you make when he makes you cream on his cock. Jay spreads your thighs apart, wanting to reach a deeper part of you.

Feeling his own high coming, Jay announces, "Wanna cum with you."

Despite being so close, you nod your head, willing yourself not to cum. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when Jay starts hitting that specific spot inside you faster, making you release a loud moan. "Shit! Right there, honey. You're doing so fucking good. Baby, cum for me."

With the way your pussy's squeezing the entirety of Jays cock, milking him for his release, Jay can't help but go feral, especially when you insert such dirty words through his ear. The sweat on Jays body paints a perfect picture of him, his muscles flexing every time he moves. His thrusts become more frantic and less rhythmic as he feels his high washing over him and before he knew it, he's already gripping both of your breasts in his palm, lips latching on to yours as the both of you cum.

Jays body lurches forwards, making him push his hips deeper. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, body becoming numb as your skin pressed onto his lips muffle his cries. Jay spurts his cum inside the plastic, some of it even spilling out because of how much he'd cum. After, he lets himself thrust into you at a languid pace, letting the both of you ride off your highs together.

"I love you, too by the way." Panting, you say, realising you left his confession without an answer.

He chuckled against your neck and then smiling right after because of how happy he was. "I love you more." He hmphs, egging you on for a challenge.

"Oh, yeah? I doubt it." You reply with a mischievous grin, leaning up to rub your nose against Jays. While doing so, your eyes catch a glimpse of the portrait you had previously made. "Think they’ll still accept your entry even though it’s not me on the picture?’’

Looking at you, your eyes lead him towards where your gaze is focused. He blushes, completely forgetting the naked painting you did just minutes prior. Catching on to what you were saying, Jay jokes, "They better. I need an ego boost after all that torture you put me through."

That day, you created your best artwork while Jay got his ticket to victory.

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darksvster · 1 month

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Hi, I usually only send asks to people on anon, but I really wanted to say that I am so sorry this fandom has been so awful to you and made what should have been a fun and cool thing such a negative experience. I will be sad not to see the rest of the scripts, but I hope stopping the posts gives you some peace 💙

thanks for the kind words, honestly i need them right now. after some consideration, i've come to make a decision on how i want to operate moving forward.

as of now i've permanently deleted my scheduled posts on twitter, i won't be posting anything there anymore.

for tumblr, i removed everything from my queue and they're sitting in my drafts, but i may just post the excerpts i like this weekend.

on the whole, i'm taking a big step back from this fandom. i've met a lot of nice people here and made friends, but the loud voices of some of the worst people here just make this an overall unenjoyable experience. for my own mental health, i think it's important to simply cut off the opportunity for people to engage with me directly.

to give some clarity, this is not just about people doubting my posts. i find those to be funny since i have never made it a secret where i get my scripts from, people just seem to be unwilling to read or do research. i actually do have one single image of a script on my phone that the librarian okayed me to photograph. but i forgot about it while making edits and now i simply don't want to post it. (i thought i didn't copy down daemon asking for rhaenyra's hand in episode 4, apparently, i was wrong and just forgot about the picture.)

this is about people calling me awful names, accusing me of pedophilia, because that's everyone's favorite word to use in this fandom, and insulting my friends when i won't respond to them.

it's about people who seem to think i deserve harassment because i put myself out there. it's about people who think i'm just too engaged and need to be more "zen" about fandom and the insults being hurled my way. it's about people who feel entitled to my posts and regularly demand greedily that i post about their favorite character already.

it's also about people cozying up to me one minute and then calling me names the next. it makes it really hard to trust anyone in this fandom, much less want to befriend them. i shouldn't have to get used to people suddenly popping up in my dms trying to befriend me after finding out that i could be a "source" for them, but i did and that's on me.

i said before that if i stopped this project i would expose everyone who was an asshole to me. the hilarious fact is that it would literally be too many screenshots of people acting like the worst type of people. all the things i listed above are from multiple people across multiple platforms. it's not just twitter, or tumblr, or discord, or reddit. it's the fact that these people exist literally in every corner of this fandom that makes me want to pull back completely.

i'll keep contributing in the areas where i enjoy contributing, but i'm done engaging with people who seem to view me as entertainment or a punching bag.

to people who have defended me without knowing me, or have simply just been polite, thanks so much. it really does help even if i don't reply to every kind word.

#sorry for this extremely long post but i've had like 48 hours to think on this #none of this is directed at one specific person and if you feel like i'm calling you out specifically then that's a you problem #this is after like dozens and dozens of awful people who i try to block and yet still can't get my name out of their mouth #ask

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drdemonprince · 4 months

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idk if you've seen the new jessie gender vid about "transandrophobia" but it's not... awesome. youre a fellow trans dude i trust very much on this topic, so I figured i'd send it your way. https://youtu.be/oYTSxuVtR7c

it would be nice to have a succinct debunking of transandrophobia to be able to show people. ive read the autolenaphilia post, but maybe it would be cool to have something more up to date?

P.S.

congrats on the new book!

God, oof, yeah. Jessie Gender seems like a very sweet person, and she's been very open about being very sensitive to criticism and the dogpiling that she frequently experiences as a trans woman on the platform, and I don't think she should be giving so much credence to the trans men who are in her mentions complaining about trans mens' concerns being under-represented. I wish she had less of a reflexive fawn response and had the ability to tell some of her audience when she disagreed with them, because I think that's caused her a lot of stress in the past and continues to.

I really think the debunking of transandrophobia is as simple as this: androphobia isn't a thing. Misandry isn't a thing. Men are not hated or systematically excluded for being men. It's impossible for there to be an "intersection" between transphobia and misandry because misandry does not exist.

Anything that gets called transandrophobia is very transparently either transphobia, or some other prejudice such as racism or ableism, which touches the lives of many cis men as well. Trans men are not excluded from representation -- many of us have gotten massive book deals and acting roles and positions in academia in particular, and we don't get depicted as serial killers and sexual predators when we are represented the way trans women commonly are and have been for decades.

Trans women don't dominate trans spaces, and it's obvious fucking sexism to claim that they are. Trans women don't get all the resources, they just put more effort in general into creating community spaces, because women tend to do more emotional and social labor. (See also: fat men complaining that all the fat positivity spaces are made by women! MRA's complaining women didn't make a feminism just for them and men's concerns! make your own, dudes!) Trans men are men and that means most critiques of sexism are completely, obviously applicable to how they regard women, especially trans women.

I understand you want a handy authoritative text to point to here, but it already exists in the form of writing that trans women have done about the sexism they face: Whipping Girl for example being one of the most essential texts on the subject. We shouldn't need an authoritative man to say that sexism against women exists and that men need to work on our entitlement. I also think it's important that we not thoroughly argue with transandrophobia nonsense, but that we shut it down quickly and confidently as the obvious sexist bullshit that it is. This shit should get a dude laughed out of the room for being a shitty, misogynistic piss baby.

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arthoewholoveseverything · 6 months

Text

Cate really frustrated me in the last two episodes. Like, my love, I completely understand where you are coming from, I have complete sympathy for you and your situation. But you can't get mad at your friends for rightfully not trusting you.

Just because you apologized doesn't mean that everything is going to go back to normal again.

You broke their trust on so many levels, and it will take time for that trust to be rebuilt, and yet she doesn't give them the patience and grace they need to heal.

The way she was acting, especially the last episode, came off as very entitled. She kills the dean, and when the rest of the crew is not sharing the same enthusiasm as her, she kinda throws a trantrum. Like, "I already apologized to you. What else do you want from me?? I did all of this for you!"

Marie, Andre, Jordan, and Emma told Cate what they wanted from her and yet she doesn't do it.

Marie says she needs time. She wants to trust Cate but it is going to take awhile and she is going to need to prove it.

Andre seems to want acknowledgment. He understands why Cate had to do what she did. He wishes that she made a different choice, but he gets why she did make that choice. That doesn't chance the fact that he hurt her. Remember that he was the one who started this investigation. She was the first person he went to about his suspicions and confinded in her mutiple times and she was apart of it the entire time.

Jordan and Emma just want her to leave them alone. She fucked up. She broke their trust. They understand why, but they are still hurt and don't want to mend that relationship.

She keeps lying to them, trying to manipulate them, and then get upset when they don't trust her and are wary of her.

I mean, Marie and Andre were the only ones who were trying to help her at the very end, and what did they get in response?

And the thing is... I completely understand that response, too. At the end of the day, she is just a scared child who was let down by all the adults in her life. Similar to Sam, which makes sense why it was so easy for him to switch sides. I also can't help but notice the white supremest undertones and how all the queer and pocs are the ones who are blamed and locked up and I can't help but side eye people who say Cate and Sam did nothing wrong and blame/mock Marie, Jordan, Andre, and Emma for how they feel and wanting to do the right thing without killing people in the process.

But yeah, these are my thoughts right now. I'm still processing everything.

#gen v #gen v spoilers #jordan li #marie moreau #andre anderson #cate dunlap #i feel conflicted #emma gen v

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ataleofcrowns · 1 year

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hiiii, i'm working on my first ever twine game and i'm kind of really nervous about dealing with reader interaction after i post it, i was wondering if you had any advice for that? not just anon hate but like, boundaries with an audience in general. you seem to handle that very well

First off, good luck with your project!! I wish you success 💖

Regarding hate anons, I kinda answered that in this ask, but overall my advice to new IF authors would be to maintain a distance from your audience.

Yeah, I know. It doesn't sound fun. I'm not saying never to engage with your readers, I do that plenty. But if you want to maintain a creative vision, it's better both for you as well as the quality of your work that you put up certain boundaries, as you put it.

This means telling readers that they're wrong sometimes. That they misinterpreted a character, or a scene, or a plot detail. This means telling them 'no' when they demand certain edits or features you don't feel fit your original vision. This means taking all the time you need to work on your story without feeling guilty, and not caving into pressure to put content out that ends up sub-par because you rushed it to satisfy your readers.

But most importantly, it means remembering that as an artist, you don't owe your audience anything. Choosing to write for an audience and prioritizing their desires over your own is the quickest way to burn out as a writer, and completely lose sight or even lose control over your own work.

You don't owe other people creative control. You don't need to cater to complete strangers on the internet. Forget about trying to appeal to everyone, it's never going to happen.

It might be daunting at first, especially starting out. Yeah, a few weirdos might get mad, but who cares about them? They're just some randos on the internet throwing a temper tantrum because they think they're entitled to your art. Their opinion doesn't matter.

Write what makes you happy, and people that appreciate your work will find you and support you regardless.

#ask #anonymous #advice #interactive fiction

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surftrips · 1 year

Text

game on

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: y/n runs into rafe at the bar.

word count: 802

a/n: haven't posted in a while but i figured with the new season finally out i would publish this draft i had, might do a part 2 depending on the feedback!

Y/N didn't even want to go out tonight. She was only here because her roommate dragged her, completely ignoring the fact that she had class tomorrow morning.

The nightclub was dark and crowded, but the energy was electric. She could tell that most people were here for one thing and one thing only: a hookup. Despite being in college for a few years now, the hookup culture was one thing she never got used to. She respected people that could participate in it, but personally, she had a hard time with the idea of sleeping with a stranger and never seeing them again (or worse, seeing them in the elevator and having it be awkward).

Her roommate dragged her into the middle of the dance floor, because "that's where all the fun happens!" It was also where people got trampled if they weren't careful, but she didn't think her friend would appreciate her bringing that up.

As soon as they made it on the dance floor, the music started picking up and it was getting harder to keep up. However, Y/N tried her best to dance to the songs and stay close to her friend, knowing that the night would go by a lot faster if she at least tried to have fun.

About two hours in, Y/N had to excuse herself from the floor and grab some water from the bar before she passed out. She signaled to her friend that she was leaving and began weaving her way through the crowd.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" A familiar voice asked her. Startled, she turned around with her drink in hand to be met by.... someone from her business class.

But not just anyone, the Kook King himself, Rafe Cameron.

"Hey, you're from my business class right?" she said, deciding not to give him the satisfaction of knowing his name.

"Uh yeah, sorry if I scared you there, I just thought you looked like a girl from my class and I was right."

"Would've been very awkward if my name wasn't Y/N. I'm sorry, what's yours again?"

He looked a little disappointed, "You don't remember?"

"Agh, sorry. It's embarrassing, but I'm really bad with faces and names so don't take it personally," you responded.

"All good," he reached out to shake your hand, not seeming to notice the sarcasm in your tone, "Cameron, Rafe Cameron."

"Oh! Rafe, that's right. How could I forget? You're always showing up late to class."

"Woah... I came out here to have a good time tonight, not to get made fun of." Rafe put his hands up in defense.

"Sorry, haha. People have told me I come off a little too strong sometimes."

"Hey, it's no worries, I appreciate your assertiveness."

It wasn't that she hated Rafe, she had nothing against him personally, but he was Rafe. Spoiled, privileged, and entitled, he lived in an entirely different world from the majority of the island. Even next to other Kooks, he stood out. The Camerons were by far, the most affluent family on the Cut.

So, she couldn't help herself when it came to taking jabs at him, masked as sarcasm or banter.

Fueled by the drink in her hand, she continued, "You here alone?"

"Well, I came with Topper and Kelce but I'm not sure where they are now. Hoping to leave with someone else though..."

Again, Y/N knew that everyone here was looking for a hookup. Still, she paused for a second at hearing Rafe being so blunt. Normally, she would be unfazed by his actions, in fact she had been dodging people's advances all night, but whether it was the alcohol in her system or sleep deprivation messing with the chemicals in her brain, she decided to keep entertaining him.

"Oh, yeah? Seen a couple blonde girls around that might be your type."

If Rafe was taken aback, he did a good job of hiding it. "Thought you didn't know my name, but now you know who my type is?"

"I only remember the important stuff," you took another sip of your drink.

Rafe was used to getting what he wanted. Most girls that he approached gave in almost immediately, but Y/N was not most girls. She was going to make him chase her.

"Alright," he nodded. "Do you want to play a game to test your memory?"

"Depends, will there be a prize if I win?"

"Of course, but I have a feeling we'll both get something out of it."

He was being a douchebag. Y/N knew all this, and yet, she couldn't help but be amused by his perseverance. If there was one thing she loved, it was the thrill that came with chasing someone. Game on.

"Okay, I'm in. What's the game?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x you

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spacelazarwolf · 9 months

Note

I really hate how often neo ra/df/ems will go on and on about how trans fem's transitions are waaaaaay more difficult and they're waaaaaay less likely to pass, but if a trans masc dared to make any similar comparisons, they'd be fucking crucified.

There are a lot of feelings I have around sex-based discrimination and the difficulties of a masculinizing transition. On one hand, I don't think comparing struggles like that is useful (i.e. trans women have harder transitions).

On the other hand, I feel like the reality of the situation is actually quite the opposite for many people (everyone acknowledges that testosterone makes your voice drop and you grow hair, but nobody seems to want to acknowledge hysterectomy vs orchi, voice training is still often needed, electrolysis for phallo, the fact that bottom surgery is usually multi-staged [even metoidioplasty is sometimes 2 stages] with a lot of moving parts and far worse scarring, top surgery is almost a necessity for passing whereas not every trans fem wants top surgery + scars are easier to hide, face masculinization is far less common w/ fewer options, puberty begins earlier in perisex people AFAB and puberty blockers don't always allow for full height to be achieved bc they don't typically allow you to start testosterone until you're about 15 even IF you were a "classic" trans-since-3-years-old kinda case, the extreme body horror that is accidental pregnancy and abortion and menstruation when that's dysphoric vs not being able to carry a pregnancy just feels like an insulting comparison sometimes and I've had multiple trans women call me inconsiderate for expressing horror at getting my bodily rights taken away bc "that triggers my dysphoria", testosterone is a scheduled substance and has more difficult administration methods than simply a pill, etc.)

And so I bite my tongue and try to be the better person, because stooping to that low doesn't help anything. But at the same time it's so extremely frustrating to be told that you "have it better" when, considering the facts, it REALLY feels like the opposite. There's this level of bitterness around that that I am DESPERATELY trying to resolve within myself. I have a therapist. I know it's projection. I'm working on my own bullshit. But please tell me I'm not alone in feeling this way? I just wish they'd stop with that rhetoric and realize just how difficult the average trans masc transition truly is

yeah it's really frustrating for ppl to present Trans Women's Experiences and Trans Men's Experiences as diametrically opposed, with one experience being Eternal Pain And Inescapable Suffering and the other being Barely A Blip On The Life Radar. and while i understand it's coming from a place of pain, i've also experienced a lot of trans women shutting me down when i try to talk about how abortion rights affect me. back when i was first dipping my toe into trans spaces, i was friends with a trans woman who told me it was transmisogynistic of me to want to transition because "trans women would kill to have been born in your body." and while it absolutely comes from a different place than when cis men try to assert control over me and there's not the same power dynamic, it's still a complete stranger feeling entitled to tell me what to do with my body because of the sex i was assigned at birth. it's frustrating to have people i'm supposed to be in community with play into the same sexist bullshit that other people, regardless of gender, have been holding over my head my whole life, feeling like they own my body bc women and ppl who are forcibly assigned the role of women in society are seen as public property. our bodies aren't our own. everyone feels entitled to comment on them and touch them and make decisions about them. and it sucks when it comes from other people who should understand how that feels.

and like. obviously this idea that trans men's transition is so much easier than trans women's is unhelpful bc 1. there is no one particular way for trans men to transition, 2. not everyone who transitions in the way typically associated with trans men is a trans man, 3. it doesn't take into account how disability, race, ethnicity, etc. play into people's experiences before, during, and after transition, and 4. it's just not a fucking competition????? the fact that a disabled black trans man is going to be more systemically oppressed in society than a wealthy white trans woman doesn't mean trans men as a category are Objectively More Oppressed than trans women. bc gender is like. the worst possible way to try to gauge a group's place within the system. bc at this point, gender is not the most powerful system, race is. and i feel like a fuck ton of people really do not recognize that.

another thing that has bugged me for as long as i've been in trans spaces is this bizarre attitude that trans women are doomed to this miserable life of clockability and will never be able to pass as cis women thus they must accept that their life will be nothing but pain and suffering. and that's just very much not true! i know plenty of trans women who "pass" or who are happy with their bodies, who have jobs they love and friends and family who love them, who have a community that supports and celebrates them. and it has just always rubbed me the wrong way that people think they're helping trans women by presenting their existence as Inevitably Miserable when all it does is terrify closeted trans girls who think they're better off never coming out or transitioning, or better off dying. like. we have to understand that these narratives we create, the idea of the perpetually suffering trans woman and the lonely isolated trans man, are absolutely driving people to suicidal ideation. and if we give a shit about trans people, we should be changing these narratives.

#ask avishai #atm

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licorice-lips · 24 days

Text

You know, one thing that really bothers me about how people view Bunny and the whole point of The Secret History is that they seem to think that because Richard is an unreliable narrator, that makes him a complete liar and everything that he says happened to and with Bunny was completely twisted into portraying him as bad as Richard can to justify Bunny's murder.

Although that's truth to some extent, I refuse to believe everything about their interactions is a lie, because that would be just lazy writing to justify things you don't want to think about very hard instead of really putting an effort into explaining the open ends to your reader. And I don't believe Donna Tartt is this kind of writer.

Anyway, I saw a post here on tumblr where op says that Bunny is the person that connected the rest of the group to ground reality and that's why his death is so tragic. Even agreeing with this person, I have some thoughts I still want to vent to you guys.

The point of TSH is that knowledge just for aesthetics is dangerous, but that's the thing: our characters have so much knowledge and they are still absolute idiots because they don't see their knowledge through the lens of reality. Their knowledge has no material grounds and therefore, it doesn't even occur to them to be aware of the things they are ignorant about because our minds have trouble understanding how much we don't understand.

(Which is ironic, considering Ancient Greece were the very first Occidental civilization to bring the notion of ignorance to the conversation, but anyways...)

But my point is, as much as Bunny is their link to their humanity, it's not like the humanity Bunny shows is anywhere near the kind of humanity they should be craving, sorry not sorry. From their very first interaction, I hated Bunny because although he's human in his rawest form, he's also just as ignorant as the rest of the group, just in a different way. My problem with Bunny as he's portrayed even early on is that he prides himself on his own ignorance and that, in my personal values, is way more worrisome then not understand how much you don't know.

Because the second case still has space to grow, to learn — albeit with mighty hardship, as exemplified by the very story — and the first one (Bunny's ignorance) is just stasis. And humans don't thrive through inaction, it's just not how we're wired. We are our best version when we're acting to be better — you can perceive this in Bell Hook's All About Love (Chapter 4), in psychology (my therapist has almost emphasize the need to act on my emotions instead of just feeling it and be locked up on them), Theodore Roosevelt has a speech about it too (the man in the arena).

So when I look at Bunny's character through the critical thinking of Richard being an unreliable narrator, it's still inconceivable to me to see him as some people do and be sad about his murder like he didn't deserve to die. Now let's be clear: he didn't deserve to die but it's not like the world is a worst place because of his death. Bunny is insufferable, entitled (although not because of the reasons Henry and the other point out later in the story to justify his murder), bigoted and overall just the epitome of a middle-class American white man (which to me is his worst characteristic), and his death is not that tragic in the overall sense.

His death is tragic because it brings the rest of the group back to reality, where what they do has weight and consequences. And don't even get me started on Julian and how much I hate his ass because it was his responsibility to provide these young adults with an education that was at the very least, grounded in reality. And let me be clear, when I say "grounded in reality" I don't mean common sense. He could still reflect upon Beauty and Terror and all of the stuff he wanted. The problem is that there's a why. We don't study things (specially not philosophy) in a vacuum, the things we do study are real, palpable, material. It has grounds in reality because science, Social Science in special, is about the truth of reality and how it's viewer and how it shapes our very foundations as individuals and as society.

But I digress, I'll do a commentary on Julian and his teaching methods later on.

So in a sense, Bunny's death was tragic because he was the anchor, even in death, of a reality none of the characters wanted to face. A reality that isn't pretty, nor it is good. So Bunny is not good, he was never good. He was just real. He was a real human being and he lived in the world the rest of the group avoided in a mistaken sense of arrogance, of being above "all that". And that's charming, but it doesn't mean Bunny represent anything near the kind of reality we should aim to live in.

Bunny, just like the others, was ignorant and arrogant about it. But as I said, he prided himself on his ignorance. He studied because he was killing time until he was ready to do something else, something he thought was the "real" thing. And that's just as dangerous, or even more so in a collective sense, than not being aware of our own ignorance.

To deny knowledge and the importance of it, to deny all there is behind the aesthetic, not because you don't see it but because you don't want to see it, is just as dumb as just seeing the looks and thinking there's nothing more to it. And in a collective sense, it's just as harmful. The reality he represents is a reality without knowledge, it's studying and not absorbing anything, not even the aesthetic. The one thing that makes me hate the rest of the group a bit less than I hate Bunny is that they at the very least allow themselves to be influenced by knowledge, although in a idiotic way. And that's not even completely their fault.

Bunny, on the other hand, is just, stasis. He's the same person throughout it all, and based on his family and his general behaviour? He could've been an okay person (the kind you tolerate in family dinners because it's not worth the drama), but he was very far from being a good person because to be a good person requires action, it requires the very knowledge he despises — because if you act without knowledge, you're just as blind as any ignorant (that's why we study).

So I don't get why people get so invested in defending Bunny because his death was just as meaningless as his life would've been. And I get that that sounds mean, but it's true exactly because Bunny's whole thing is his own brand of ignorance is inaction and no one changes doing nothing.

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mikuni14 · 24 days

Text

Love is better the second time aroud - Ep 5

Miyata made this situation about himself and I hated it. What irritates me a lot about Miyata is that he creates an image of Iwanaga in his head alos that he doesn't listen to him. Miyata has created an image of Iwanaga and sees only things tha fit this image (including his own delusions and simple misunderstandings), and ignores what does not fit. I get it. Iwanaga's personality makes it very easy to attribute certain traits to him and accuse him of being uninvolved in his relationship, but Iwanaga also constantly gives signals that he cares, and most importantly, he TALKS about what he wants and what he feels.

All the scenes about Iwanaga's family issues were very telling, especially when he asks Miyata not to worry about them, when he calls him an outsider - because Miyata is an outsider after all and it's not an insult, it's a fact! And Miyata gets angry, taking it all personally, treating it as a rejection and an attack on himself. Likewise, his sense of guilt is telling: Iwanaga has NEVER acted as if he resented what happened in the past (which was a decions of BOTH OF THEM, and Miyata acts as if he himself brought all the misfortunes upon him), and now Iwanaga shows interest in him at every step, confesses his love, wants to be with him. However, Miyata CHOOSES Sugimoto's words to believe, not his boyfriend. Miyata CHOOSES his own story that he was the one who hurt Iwanaga, completely ignoring his feelings, words and choices. Miyata, as an adult, should know that he is not responsible for the behaviour of Iwanaga's mother, and that he is not responsible for what happened when they were both KIDS. Also he should know, that people don't want to talk about their painful past just like that, that they might need time, like seriously. Miyata made this whole situation about himself.

Which particularly irritates me, because Miyata has been a really nice character so far and for most of episode 5. I even liked him more than the charming Iwanaga 😎 Iwanaga seemed to me as a typical charming and seductive boy who, even if he has sincere feelings, is unable to convey them reliably, because his personality and behaviour make people doubt his determination, sincerity and commitment. But in episode 5, Iwanaga took some important, significant steps, such as declaring his love, proposing to live together, and there were several significant moments where Iwanaga was serious and vulnerable. Miyata was great for most of the episode: strong, not giving in to rumors and insinuations, supporting his beloved, standing on his side. But much of his behavior at the end seems strange, even cruel. I can't imagine the state of my heart if someone I love said nothing when asked by my sister if they loved me, right in front of me. Even if Miyata didn't want to answer, he could have just said it was a personal question or something. But he just went silent, it was terrible and humiliating. First this, and then "hey, let's break up, because you don't want to include me in your abusive family life story and I'm entitled to it". I'm not surprised at all that Iwanga didn't even try to fight for his relationship, hearing something like that and not hearing Miyata's verbal confirmation of his feelings.

The sight of Iwanaga waiting for Miyata's answer and not receiving it, and the fact that Iwanaga still saves him in this situation AND ALSO SAYS THAT IT'S OK BECAUSE HE LOVES HIM, AND MIYATA STILL BEING SILENT... 💀 And also how he feels self-pity, how he sits there so sad and Iwanaga COMFORTS him although he was hurt by Miyata just now, and also how he dramatically suggests breaking up and has the nerve to be surprised when Iwanaga agrees.. 💀 And the most annoying thing: a verbal declaration of love when no one hears it. You have no idea how much I wanted to smack Miyata at the end of this episode.

In general, the whole plot consists of people around Iwanaga who want something from him all the time and impose their will on him, play weird games and tricks around him, create his image in their heads and force him to fit into this image. Additionally, they claim that they know best what he wants and what he feels. I really felt like Miyata was forcing Iwanaga into things that he didn't feel comfortable with, and since Iwanaga isn't fierce (like Miyata), he can't show with his whole being that he's angry or feels bad, but he TALKS about it. Only Miyata DOESN'T LISTEN, he just creates scenarios and thinks about himself.

Also, this episode only highlighted the differences in communication between them, Iwanaga is always very nice, compliments Miyata, is polite, does not raise his voice. Miyata is rude and critical most of the time. It's ironic that Miyata doubts Iwanaga's feelings, because objectively it should be Iwanaga who doubts him seeing as how Miyata is constantly being mean to him and constantly fighting with him and questioning his words.

I liked this couple very much, but I must admit that this irritating lack of communication, making independent decisions in the relationship based on person's own ideas, and deciding to break up without discussing the problems really pissed me off. Breaking up for stupid, noble, whatever reasons, lack of communication, making decisions on your own, creating artificial scenarios about what is happening, attributing your own delusions to the other person, cruelty disguised as care and sacrifice, lack of awareness, that you might be hurting someone with your actions, words or silence - these are all things that ALWAYS ruin for me every couple, even the best.

I'm sorry for this rant 🥺 but somehow it irritated me so much lol Maybe it's because I really like this series and MLs and I'm disappointed because the characters so far have behaved logically - and what's important for me: like adults. That's why the end of the episode was like a grind in a story that had been well conducted so far. Unfortunately, their problems from their youth have been exactly copied now.

Miyata says that yes, Iwanaga claims to love him and wants to live with him, but IT IS NOT ENOUGH because he doesn't tell him about his family - a family that literally abandoned him. And because he calls Miyata like an outsider - except Iwanaga said that an outsider doesn't mean what Miyata thinks, but instead of listening to him, Miyata ignores his words. Iwanaga asks him not to deal with family issues for now, suggesting he will talk about it when he's ready. What is Miyata doing? Ignores the request. This makes me so angry.

Best moment: when Miyata is firmly on Iwanaga's side when he says he won't let ANYONE manipulate him. And Iwanaga's reaction 🥺:

Unfortunately, everything went wrong after that scene and Miyata seemed to forget how cool and protective he was like a minute ago...

#love is better the second time around #bl drama #japanese bl

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theundercoversquid · 2 years

Text

Meeting the other drivers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x author reader!Reader

Request: I think you can tell the author of the paddock and how he met a Formula 1 driver for the first time, in the next parts of the reader x chales leclerc series. Thinking of writing chapters three and four, or even five, six or seven? please third chapter come to the tumblr homepage. - @benfrank545637

Paired with: Why don't you continue the author reader x charles leclerc series? Very good please continue. Young drivers such as Pierre, lando, george, yuki and carlos, of course seb or something, can be met, just not m*x versttapen. - @venusgirl67

Paired with: are you okay? Are you in a busy period? If you are available, will you continue this writer and charles series? I think the reader should now enter the paddock. please don't be intimate with anyone from redbull. - @painterr

Warnings:

Masterlist

A writer and formula one driver masterlist

You never thought you would ever make it to an F1 race. Let alone be in the paddock.

This was something you had hoped and dreamed of. But never thought would actually happen.

You had been stunned when Charles had offered. You had gone completely blank.

"Really?" You ask him in a hushed voice.

"Really." Charles nods. "I want you to meet the people I race with."

"I would love to come," you tell Charles. Your head nodding frantically.

"perfect." Charles grins. "I will get your ticket sorted out."

"Thank you." You shout, throwing yourself at him.

Charles grins, wrapping his arms around you. So glad that something that makes him so happy makes you so happy too.

When you finally made it to the paddock, you felt like a kid in a candy store. You didn't know where to look as you wanted to take everything and anything in.

Charles laughed as you bounded into the paddock. A smile split your face in half from the moment you two had gotten in the car. A smile that had only grown when you had scanned your pass. An image of your face popping up. Something that made you so inexplicably happy.

Maybe it was the fact that You were finally at an F1 race. Or perhaps it was that Charles had made so much effort for you, and he was the one bringing you.

Unsurprisingly the first place that Charles wanted to take you was to the Ferrari garage. He seemed almost as eager as you. Excited about you seeing his car up close and personal and for you finally getting to meet the rest of his friends and the people he raced with and against.

As you approached the Ferrari garage, you felt your excitement growing and your steps slowing. You were about to get to enter the Ferrari garage. This was real, and it's happening.

Charles, as if sensing your sudden turn of nervousness, tightened his grip on your hand and led you in. Casually as if he owned the place, he strolled through the doors. And you suppose in a way he was entitled to that confidence.

When you made it through the doors behind your boyfriend, you were greeted with the sights of a bustling garage. Ferrari workers hurried around as they tried to get both the cars in tip-top shape for FP1.

When they spotted you, they would shoot you a friendly wave before returning to whatever they were doing. Making you feel welcome without being overwhelmed.

Only one person dropped what they were doing to come over and say hello to you.

"Ahh, I see I finally get to meet your, partner." A thick Spanish accent proclaimed.

Turning around, you were met with the sight of Carlos Sainz. Desperately trying to push down your inner fangirl. You stuck out your hand for Carlos to shake. "It's nice to meet you." You smiled.

"You too." Carlos grinned, shaking your hand. "I was starting to think that Charles was lying about you."

"Hey!" Charles immediately protests loudly, wrapping his arm around you.

Laughing, you snuggled into Charles's side.

The three of you chatted for a while as you got to know your boyfriend's teammate. Part way through, you surreptitiously pinched yourself, trying to work out if you were really standing in the Ferrari garage talking to Carlos Sainz with Charles Leclerc wrapped around you. But the immediate twinge told you that you weren't dreaming and that this was really real.

Sadly Carlos ended up getting called away to talk about his engine. And so Charles led you out of the Ferrari garage and carried on your paddock tour.

Heading down the paddock, you were suddenly halted by an over-excited Frenchman and an equally over-excited Japanese man bounding towards you.

The Frenchman immediately wraps his around you.

"It's so nice to finally meet the women that Charles won't shut up about," Pierre tells you, a wide teasing grin on his face.

"It's so nice to finally meet the driver that Charles won't shut up about." You tell Pierre grinning back at him.

"Come on," Charles's complains, throwing his hands up. "You two can't already be ganging up on me already."

Laughing, you turn to Yuki. Bowing your head at him gently. "It's nice to meet you." You smile at him.

"It's nice to meet you too." He shyly grins back at you.

Smiling at him, Pierre loops his arm through yours as he drags you away. Yuki on your other side as you leave Charles to catch up.

"So how nervous was he when he asked you out?" Pierre asks you, demanding all the gossip.

"He didn't." You laugh.

"What?" Pierre shouts. "I thought I had trained him better than that."

"Apparently not!" You laughed as Pierre moaned about how useless his best friend is.

You tell the two AlphaTauri drivers how you and Charles got together. As said boyfriend walking behind the three of you. Smiling at the sight of you and his best friend getting on like a house on fire.

You and Pierre end up swapping numbers as Charles looks on horrified. Worried about all the teasing that would come from you two when you gang up on him. But secretly, he was just so glad that you were getting on. Charles didn't know what he would do if you didn't like each other. As you were two such important people in his life.

You and Pierre end up waving goodbye as you promise to meet up at some point. As Charles and Yuki are left to wonder about what chaos that is sure to unfold from this.

And then Charles proclaimed that your next stop is the twitch quartet.

Dragging you off to where you can see George, Alex and Lando conversing. When the three of them spot you, they immediately wave you over. Welcoming you into their little circle, the three of them immediately treat you as if you are some long-lost friend. Talking and gossiping with you as if you have known them for years.

You somehow even end up promising to join them for a stream. Something you aren't quite sure how you signed up for or how they persuaded you. But that is a problem for another time.

You only get pulled away from them when Charles spots one last person that he needs to introduce you to.

Waving goodbye to the boys as they warn you that they will hold you to your promise. You follow Charles off.

It's only when you spot a familiar mop of untamed blond curs that you understand where you are being led.

"Seb," Charles calls out, causing the German to stop and turn around. An excited smile across his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Bashfully Charles introduces you to one of his biggest inspirations and idols.

Smiling shyly, you stick your hand out for Seb to shake as you introduce yourself to him.

"There's no need to be shy," Seb assures you. "I have heard enough about you from Charles, and my wife is a fan."

Bashfully smiling at Seb's last comment, you laugh as Charles loudly complains. Moaning that everybody keeps telling you how much he goes on about you.

Placing a kiss on Charles's temple, you assure him that you think it is adorable how much he talks about you to the people he loves. And Seb watch's on, glad that Charles has found his grounding point just as he had in Hanna.

You and Seb end up chatting about your books as Charles chips in with his own thoughts and theories. The three of you promise to catch up at a later date when you can properly meet the rest of his family, with Seb promising that his wife would love to talk to you about your books and that his daughter would love you.

Something that causes your entire face to heat up. And for Charles to grin triumphantly, taking that as the ultimate praise and compliment from Seb.

And when a frazzled and stressed Ferrari employee finally turns up. Chastising Charles for being away for so long and being late, he couldn’t care. Because he had introduced you to all the people he wanted you to meet. And they all loved you almost as much as he loved you.

And as you and Charles were dragged back to the Ferrari garage, you were relieved and excited. Relieved that his friend and the people he spent so much time with him had accepted you. And excited that you were finally going to see your boyfriend do what he does best.

#F1 #Charles Leclerc #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #CL16 #x reader #Imagine

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inkyray · 11 days

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https://www.reddit.com/r/tarayummysnark/s/GNCNcC6cTc

i don’t even really dislike tara it’s just so hard watching this bc i can relate to alyssa sm and it completely turned me off from her completely

also watching stuff about jake johnny and tara wasting food is also very ignorant when with inflation many people can’t even get enough food on their tables

i do wanna point out this was apparently a drunk episode, alcohol definitely alters ur brain to do compulsive things, just want to get this out of the way.

as someone who deals w depression and anxiety i think the way alyssa handled it was pretty mature. and if you take taras personality accountable, you should understand that she's a loud person who most of the time speaks her mind. now im looking at this from an adults pov, idk about yall. i definitely do think what she did was really insensitive and a dick move, but we cant act like, under the influence or not, had a thought in mind and hadn't done that before.

everyone has their flaws and something shitty about them, just because tara is more chronically online than others, doesn't mean you should feel entitled to immediately hate her for slipping up. just because you see them online doesn't mean youve got them all figured out lmao, alyssa seems to know tara in a way people through the internet don't. if alyssa has problem with it, than it's completely valid, but it wouldn't really make sense if someone on the internet felt the need to constantly point it out

as for the jake and johnnie and tara wasting food thing, i dont have much to say since i literally dont watch a single one of them, but ive always agreed that wasting it is wrong, but i think instead of getting angry about it, we should educate them about it lol

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squgs · 10 months

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HOTD and Ambiguity

So given that House of the dragon covers nearly 20 years of history (30 if you count the prologue), and a shit ton of characters in ten hours of television there's a lot of events that we don't see and ambiguities around characters. Characters rarely state their motivations and there are reasons to doubt them when they do. It is very easy to make wildly different claims about characters which, while incompatible with each other, can't really be disproved by the show so far. For example Daemon can be a pedo groomer abuser who just wants the throne, or a feminist malewife who will do anything for his queen. Neither of those are explicitly disproven by what we see on screen, though that is not to say that they're equally reasonable readings (I think that the 2nd is pretty ridiculous to be honest).

These different readings of scenes and characters and lines have contributed to the pretty ugly fandom discourse since there is enough evidence for mutually exclusive claims to argue extensively. Whoever your favorite character is you can twist the shown events in order to make them seem like a hero and for everyone who opposes them to be terrible. However I don't have anything worthwhile to say on that, so I want to talk about the writing on its own instead.

Now having uncertain motives can be interesting writing wise (show don't tell and all that), but I think that as House of the Dragon's first season continued it ran into more and more problems around this, especially with the time jumps and actor changes. When character's motives and wants are unclear after the time jumps first impressions are what will decide how most people view them. So when we first see Rhaenyra giving birth, and we first see Alicent trying to separate a newborn from her mother, and we first see Criston calling Rhaenyra a slur and we first see Harwin being a protective father and we first see Aegon bullying his brother, it adds up. Those first impressions are then applied forward and backwards leading to the idea that Alicent and Criston have been abusing Rhaenyra for ten years, and that in the training yard Criston the incel fucked around with Harwin and then found out (my read is that Criston the step-dad took advantage of Harwin being an entitled ass to get him fired).

(Side note about Criston: While the exact thinking behind his downward spiral in episode 5 is ambiguous, the scene between him and Rhaenyra in episode 4 is unambiguously rape given that he tells her to stop and she doesn't.)

In that way the show encourages very one sided readings of complicated and ambiguous scenes, leading to people either being annoyed that the show ignores all the terrible things that the greens are doing, or that it's unfairly biased against them. That's a problem, but things don't completely fall apart until episodes 9 and 10 when people start going to war. For all of the characters we still have no idea what they are fighting for. If we ask why Alicent crowns Aegon we have a bunch of possible answers:

Because she thinks Viserys told her to. This is stupid and I hate it.

Because she fears for her children's lives. This is a good reason, but it has not been brought up since episode 6 despite episodes 7 and 8 both featuring moments that would certainly validate that fear.

Internalized misogyny. This one makes no sense to me, and I haven't seen any convincing evidence for Alicent specifically having more internalized misogyny than any of the other women on the show. However it could be interesting if it was actually seen beforehand.

Ambition and pride. This isn't really seen in the show, but it certainly seems like an understandable feeling for Alicent to have after suffering through an abusive marriage for 20 years and being denied the two things that women are promised through marriage (her husband's protection of her and her children, and the inheritance of her son)

Now if we ask why Rhaenyra wants the crown enough to go to war for it (she agrees to lay siege to king's landing before Luke dies so I'm ignoring that) we have a similarly confusing list of possibilities:

Her dad told her to. This is the reason that I think fits best, but it isn't really delved into. I think there would be a lot of rich interesting stuff with Rhaenyra evaluating her father's legacy and whether she wants to continue it, but Rhaenyra never seems to acknowledge how much bad shit her father has done.

So she can fulfill the prophecy. This is stupid.

Ambition and pride. Also aren't really seen, but certainly understandable and believable.

She fears for her children. This also isn't really shown at all, but you could argue that she fears her children will be killed either to protect Aegon's claim or to put an actual Valeryon on the throne of Driftmark. However we don't really know Rhaenyra's view of the political situation.

To destroy the patriarchy. This would be interesting, but we don't really see her wanting to do that. We do see her usurp Baela's claim to Driftmark in episode 8 though.

These issues get even worse with the more minor characters, the worst example being Rhaenys for whom all her possible motivations contradict her previous actions and opinions:

To protect/honor her grand daughters: if this is what she wants why doesn't she take Alicent's offer of Driftmark, giving her granddaughters an inheritance and keeping them out of the war?

To protect Luke and Jace: she never shows them any affection except maybe in the background of the eye gouging aftermath.

Feminism: if she is willing to go to war in order to have a queen on the iron throne why didn't she fight for her own claim?

Because she wants peace: then why didn't she accept Alicent's offer which was made in the name of peace? Literally as soon as she and Corlys put their support behind Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra stops considering making peace.

Because she trusts Rhaenyra more than the greens: Why? She thinks that Rhaenyra and Daemon killed at least one of her children, she saw Daemon murder her brother in law and we have no reason to think she knows of any misdeeds done by the greens.

All these unclear motivations make the themes of the stories non-existent. The dance could have all sorts of different thematic meanings, all built around what is being fought for and against. It would be fascinating if Alicent and Rhaenyra were both fighting for ambition, making the show about how women are pitted against each other by patriarchy or if they were both fighting for their children and the show is about the cruelty of the system that doesn't allow power to be shared and forces branches of families to fight until one side is wiped out. However, for any meaning to be clear the writers have to know what it is and they have to write their characters with that meaning in mind. Hopefully the show can be more clear going forward, but I don't exactly expect that, and I think that without a coherent set up it's not going to mean much when bodies start dropping next season.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #rhaenys targaryen #hotd critical #pro team green

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namorswifeyyy · 1 year

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Just a little Namor drabble I thought of

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THE LIGHT IN MY LIFE

Tags: Angst with some fluff

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⚠️ CONTENT WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of self harm, reader experiencing depression

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Summary: You and Namor met on the beach alone together. Even though you're a human, you and him have been finding solace in each other as much more visits been happening. But then you don't see him as much anymore. Wondering when he will come back. Wondering if he even feels the same love you have for him.

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It's been several months without seeing Namor. You come to this particular beach every day, only to never see him. You even visit at night and he's still not there. You were starting to believe that maybe the feeling wasn't mutual at all. That it was only you who felt that way.

It was night time. You decided to come visit that beach one more time. He might not come but you still had a little bit of hope left.

You hear the waves of the water wash upon the shore, feeling the night's cold air. The sand is cooling on your feet instead of scorching hot like it is in the summer sun. It was peaceful, yet lonely. Not a single person, no animals, not hearing any chatter, just only the soft sounds of the ocean.

You walk over to the shore and sit in front of it. You sigh. You watch the ocean glimmer under the moon lit sky. Not a single sign of Namor's return. "This is stupid." You say to yourself. "I keep coming back for nothing."

You find a sea shell next to you. It looks very familiar. Like the shell Namor gave you on one of your visits. To call him if you need him. Might just be any regular old shell. But then you thought to yourself "Might as well figure out if it really is."

You check the shell to see if a crab is living inside it. And of course, it's an empty shell. You sigh with relief as you blow into the shell. You set the shell down and look at the ocean to see if Namor is coming. Then you look at your arms.

All of the burn scars you inflicted on yourself in the past. You have been spiraling into a deep depression since. Family didn't seem to care, friends didn't seem to notice. Coming to this beach was your only escape from reality. But even your escape seemed pointless to you.

Does Namor even care anymore? What reason could he have for being gone for this long? You start to tear up. One tear trickled down your cheek. You buried your face into your arms. All you wanted was to be close with him again.

You hear something arise from the ocean but didn't care to look. The sounds of faint yet quickened pitter pattering traveled over to your direction. It sounded familiar. Like wings flapping?

You feel a presence of someone beside you. You look up to see who it is. You recognize his dark hair, his pointed ears, the jewelry, all the way down to his green shorts and the winged ankles. You couldn't believe it. Namor.

"Namor? What are you doing here?" You ask, trying to choke back tears. He kneeled down and looked into your eyes.

"I came to see you. I know it's been months and I'm sorry. I should've been here sooner."

You sniffle as you wipe away your tears. "Where even were you? I been waiting for you and I was scared you completely forgot about me."

He went and sat down next to you. "Me and my people are now allies to Wakanda. We had to spend time there and help them. You know I wouldn't forget about you."

You roll your eyes at his statement and get up from where you were sitting. "That's bullshit. It's been several months. Almost a year. Ten months, Namor. I know I'm not entitled to your time but you never told me about this. You think I'm gonna forgive you when you left without saying anything?" You said.

Namor looks at you, like it's the first time all over again. But then his expression changes once he looks at the burn scars on your arms. "Did you do that?" He asks.

You look confused then sigh in frustration. "You didn't even answer my question."

Namor gets up and gets close to you. You know that intimidating stare from anywhere. He looks at you sternly.

"I know you aren't gonna forgive me. And you're not obligated to. But I'm asking you this. What is it that you did to your arms?" He asks, even with a stern tone. Your eyes widened then you look at your arms. Even your expression changes. With a more saddened look.

"I took a lighter to my skin and burned myself." You answered, trying not to cry again. He takes your hand and looks at the scars.

"Is it okay if I ask why?" He ask with a softer, more gentle tone. Your eyes tear up again. You look down at the ground.

"I been hurting myself because I wanted to feel something. My family never cared when it came to my mental health neither did my friends. I felt alienated from everyone. Because apparently I can't be depressed when I have this and that. But it's been eating me alive. And I felt like you were the only one who not only understood me but also gave me a reason to smile."

Namor looked at your arms then at you. He put your arm down and gave you a gentle yet comforting embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder. You tear up even more and hugged him tighter.

He let go of you. "I need you to look at me, okay?" He asks. You look at him, misty-eyed. "Please, promise me you won't hurt yourself again?"

You nod yes. "I promise. I'm sorry I did this to myself. I feel so bad about it and I don't want you to feel bad for me." Your voice starts to break.

"Please don't feel sorry. You know I'm not mad at you. I'm only worried is all. I just don't wanna see you in pain like that. Ever." Namor caresses your cheek.

"I'm really happy that you came back for me." You said as you smiled. He wiped away your tears.

After all this time, it turns out Namor did miss you just as much as you did. You never even thought that he would be this gentle and affectionate with you. Especially with how much physical touch was involved.

"I'm just happy to see you again." Namor smiled back at you, then he looks at your lips. "I have a feeling you might say no but, is it okay if I kiss you?" He asks.

You had a subtly surprised look on your face. You look at the ground then back at him. "You know what? Yes, you can." He pulls you in closer to him and leans in for a kiss.

As soon as your lips touch his, you just feel like you're melting into him. Like the world just stopped. His kisses felt so sweet. Like he was yearning for your touch.

You pulled away and put your arms around his neck. "I hope we continue to have more moments like this often." You said.

Namor holds onto your waist. "I know we will."

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Reblogs and replies are much appreciated!!

#namor #mcu namor #namor of talokan #namor fanfic #namor fanfiction #namor x reader #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta mejia #jose tenoch huerta mejia #marvel

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