#Online Assignment Notebook

[gulabilli]

just realized that just because im no longer a student doesn't mean i can't use this blog for motivation! today i'm going to:

- be decently productive for my wfh job

- clean cats' litter boxes

- put away things in the hallway

- eat lunch

- put away laundry

and i think that's enough for the day. i know it might seem like very little but im trying to be realistic for myself for right now

[midshipmank]

just realized that i can’t actually finish grading 4 of the most urgent assignments i have to grade because 2 students’ families decided that the entire month of november was a great time for a family vacation & therefore i won’t get these students’ work until they return

[ihatefrvits]

aced it

tutor!jisung x reader

genre: smut (minors dni 18+), college au, fingering, reader is bad at math but not that dumb, jisung is a bit manipulative.

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: since your finals were coming up, you desperately needed a tutor. so doing what every normal person would do, you asked the top student for help, but his idea of studying under pressure was far from what you had imagined.

authors note: tysm for over 1k notes on practice makes perfect!!! i never expected to get this amount on my first post, i couldn’t be more grateful…🥹 i’ll try my best to post more!! i hope you like this too hehe

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you tried your best to keep up in lectures, finish assignments on time, bullshit your way through the discussion boards, but when it came to exams, you were a lost cause.

"ugh, i don't get it at all!" you groan and drop your pen onto the notebook while pressing a hand to your forehead out of frustration. all the formulas you went over are slipping from your mind, no matter how hard you try to focus.

jisung exhales and shakes his head as he's closing his laptop that’s decorated in space and alien stickers. "no, this isn't working out." he says and leans back against the wall. "we need to try a different method."

as he opens the textbook which replaces the laptop and starts flipping through the pages, you flop backward onto his bed and sigh so loudly that the vibrations shake the empty glass of water on the table.

the noise makes his head turn towards you. at first, it’s like as if he’s studying you; his eyes on you, scanning, thinking, calculating.

you can feel the piercing gaze burning holes in your skin. you suddenly think of searching study methods online, but before you grab your phone, you feel the mattress dip under his weight.

he moves closer to you, so close that his thigh is pressed against yours and you can feel his warmth seep through your shorts. you almost freeze for a second. “jisung—“

he cuts you off with a “shh.” he’s acting like this between you is completely normal, like you two were always used to sharing such intimate contact.

while you’re confused, embarrassed and don’t know what’s going on, he’s focused, unbothered and calm. it’s like as if he has something figured out.

as you were staring into his eyes, you felt his hand move to your thigh, slowly, as if he was testing how far he could go. just below the hem of your shorts, his warm fingers press against your skin.

“…what are you doing?” you manage to blubber out, because you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“trying something else,” he says and his thumb brushes, which makes you shiver.

this is new, dangerous and completely out of your comfort zone, but you make no effort to move away.

jisung is still studying your face, searching for any sign of resistance, and then he tilts his head. “i thought you said you needed motivation.” your heart skips a beat as you feel his thumb stroke your thigh again, “maybe this will help.”

your mind urges you to say something, ask what the fuck is he doing, tell him to stop, maybe laugh it off… but that would make you dishonest with yourself.

his fingers are still tracing circles slowly against you, still drifting almost beneath the hem of your shorts, never going too far, but never stopping either.

your pulse is pounding in your ears. you swear you can feel your heartbeat everywhere.

“you’re messing with me.” you say with your voice light, almost like you’re expecting him to deny.

he hums and slightly tightens his fingers. “am i?”

you turn your gaze from his hand to his face, but he’s already looking at you. he’s not grinning, not laughing, just watching, like he’s silently asking you, how far can i take this?

your thighs twitch at the sight of him. as your heart won over the small battle with your brain, you exhale and part your legs just enough to give his fingers more access.

jisung notices immediately and his lips curl into something that’s barely a smile. he doesn’t say a word, but his fingers trail further up your inner thigh, in such a measured way that’s enough to make you tremble. “still think i’m messing with you?” he murmurs.

“…no,” you swallow.

“good,” he leans in closer to you and turns your head to the laptop screen, “now focus.” he must’ve turned it on while i wasn’t paying attention, you think to yourself.

a new equation is in front of you, something basic, it’s something you’d usually solve in seconds. but your brain is empty.

“if you get it right,” he whispers, his fingers still massaging your thigh, “i’ll reward you.” his other hand slides across the sheets, pulling the laptop a bit closer.

“but if you get it wrong…” he hums and tilts his head slightly. you can feel his fingers pressing little bit harder. “then we try something else, okay?”

your legs shift as the heat is pooling in your lower stomach, you’re not sure whether you want to get the answers right or wrong.

you try to focus, but all you can think about is the way he’s pressing his fingertips into your skin. the question is simple, you just have to say what’s the derivative of 5x², but your mouth is dry.

you know the answer to it, you two have gone over this theme hundreds of times, but you can’t open your mouth, your mind is completely blank.

“uh—“ your voice is trembling. you need to answer. “ten x?” you finally breathe out.

for a second, there’s silence. you start to think this is some sort of joke, that he was gonna laugh it off any second.

but inside your shorts, his hand slides higher, his palm presses right over your panties, and he hums, “correct.”

before you reach out to the laptop to read the next question, you feel your underwear get pushed to the side. you don’t have enough time to react as he slides his ring finger inside, which makes your breath catch and your thighs clench.

his finger presses in deeper and your hips instinctively roll forward, chasing more friction, he chuckles at that and his other hand slides up to press against your thigh to keep you still.

“we…we’re supposed to be studying,” you blurt out. he tilts his head and slips his finger in fully, “should we stop then?” you try to reply, but the only thing that’s close to a response from you is the way your hips keep twitching, almost begging him to move his finger, and he curls his finger inside, touching your sweet spot, which makes you let out a small whimper. jisung hums, “thought so.”

you dig your nails into the sheets. yes—it feels good, but it’s not enough. “jisung…” you whisper.

“hmm?” he answers in a mocking tone as his other hand grips your thigh tighter so he keeps you spread for him.

his finger starts moving inside you, but it’s so slow it’s like he’s not completely giving you what you want. though, you can’t bring yourself to protest.

“now, next question,” his voice is low. your eyes are locked on the laptop screen, but your brain is too fuzzy to register any number. you can barely breathe, let alone think.

he must know the effect he has on you as he reads the equation out loud, “derivative of three x squared?” he asks and presses his finger again.

you tremble from the touch, “fuck—“

“that’s not an answer, y/n.” his voice is so calm, not like he’s fingering you, more like he’s genuinely waiting for you to answer him. like you’re actually supposed to focus on fucking math.

it’s not like you’re not trying. you are trying to answer, but the way his finger is pumping inside you so slowly, curving it slightly with each thrust makes you on the edge of craving more.

“come on, baby,” jisung coos and his lips brush your temple, “i know you know this one.”

your hands curl into fists, “i—six x?” you gasp.

he hums in approval and adds another finger, causing your back to arch. given how large his hands are, the stretch is perfect.

before you control yourself, your thighs snap shut against his wrist, your whole body is trembling and you’re completely overwhelmed.

he sighs like he’s disappointed in you. “don’t do that,” he says before using his other hand to pry your legs apart again.

his fingers push deeper and suddenly his thumb brushes over your clit. it’s barely there, enough to tease you, but not enough to satisfy you. it still draws noises from you.

“better,” he whispers and asks a question you don’t even bother registering. you blurt out a random number, hoping you’re right, gasping as you gave him the answer.

he’s silent for a second, until he answers, “wrong,” and presses his thumb down on your clit, hard.

your whole body jerks. a broken moan spills from your lips and your legs almost start closing on him again, but his grip tightens and locks you in place. “you’re gonna have to do better than that, baby.”

his fingers slam into you faster, more deeper. the slow pace he’d set earlier is gone. your body is reacting on it’s own, your hips rolling into his hand, your mouth letting small whimpers every time his fingers thrust in you. you can feel how wet you are based off the slick sounds and how easily he’s moving inside you.

“look at you,” he whispers as he’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part, the way your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re not paying attention at all, is this how you’re going to pass exams?”

you can’t even hear him. physically yes, but your mind is drowning under the pressure of his fingers curling inside you and his thumb massaging circles onto your clit.

it’s so perfect, so precise that you could almost believe he’s playing with your body like he’s been waiting to do this.

but how could that be? jisung, the top student who barely speaks to anyone, who hid his face in glasses when you practically begged him to tutor you for finals.

jisung, who side-eyed you every time you spaced out in lectures, who rolled his eyes when you’d rather scroll on your phone than take notes.

jisung, who sighed dramatically when you showed up to your first tutoring session completely unprepared, who scoffed when you whined about how you’d never pass if he didn’t help you.

jisung, who agreed anyway, who sat beside you for hours, patiently going over problems, reminding you of formulas, watching you struggle.

jisung, who smirked slightly every time you leaned in closer, every time your knee bumped his under the table, every time you chewed on your lip and complained that math was ‘so hard’.

jisung, who was always so calm, so unbothered, so normal.

jisung, who’s completely unraveling you now.

like he’s been waiting to do this, like he’s thought about it, like you didn’t catch up with it.

your thoughts quickly get cut off from the knot in your stomach coiling tighter. “jisung,” you gasp, your words barely audible, “i—i’m gonna—“

he presses harder, his fingers hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. “you’re gonna cum all over my fingers?”

you nod quickly and desperately. your body is trembling, your stomach is coiling tighter, tighter, tighter—

until he pulls his fingers out. completely.

the loss causes your body to tense, a sharp gasp breaks from your lips and your hips roll down against nothing, chasing friction that’s no longer there. “what the fuck.” you cry out in desperation.

jisung leans back against the headboard like he didn’t just ruin you in the span of five seconds. his fingers, soaked, still dripping with you, lift lazily to his lips.

you stare at him as he licks them clean. you can’t even process the fact that he just left you so empty, so fucking desperate, so completely on edge.

“you wanna cum?” he asks while smirking, it’s not a question, he knows the answer.

your whole body trembles, thighs still spread for him, pussy throbbing, breath uneven.

“yes,” you say instantly, “yes, yes, yes, please, i need—“

“then ace your exams.”

your brain stalls.

your jaw drops.

“…you’re joking.”

jisung shakes his head, like this is just another normal conversation, like he didn’t just lick your arousal off his fingers.

“you don’t get to finish,” he says simply, “not until you earn it.”

your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re insane.”

“i said i’d help you,” he answers, “but i never said i’d make it easy.”

you shudder. you’re still clenched tight, still throbbing, still sitting at the edge of your orgasm, still waiting for him to slam his fingers back inside you.

he knows. he’s still sitting there, fully clothed, perfectly composed, like he didn’t just completely fuck you over and left you aching for him.

you can’t even say anything.

“better start focusing more,” he hums, stretches and goes back to his phone, completely unbothered.

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part 2 can be found here!!

[elite-assignments-help]

DM for Inquiries and help

[v6quewrlds]

THIS LOVE I HAVE FOR YOU, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x high school sweetheart!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀9.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀you've spent the last ten years of your life supporting, adoring, loving justin herbert. for ten years that was all you needed: loving justin. until a night out with colleagues strikes you with the realization that loving justin has come at the expense of choosing almost anything else.

author's note⠀⁎⠀did a ridiculous amount of reddit forum research on finance + private equity for about three sentences. loved writing this one! potential au/series <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀3rd person (she/her), angst, language maybe?, one usage of y/n.

When you're sixteen years old, you think you know everything. You're in the throes of adolescence, your whole life ahead of you, and you're certain that the person you're with now is the one you're going to be with forever. You make promises in the hallways of your high school, whisper plans that your teenage brain isn't fully capable of understanding the sheer magnitude of into the phone, and organize every waking breath around the desperation to be together.

She had been that girl. Obsessing over emoji choices, angling her selfies just right, and idly writing his name in the margins of her notebooks in swirled cursive. Justin, Justin, Justin; she painted her entire world in shades of him.

For ten years, those shades of Justin, all things Justin, had been her entire life.

College was a learning curve for them both, but they managed to make it work. Justin's football scholarship had taken him just a few miles from home, and she had followed. She chose a safer, albeit more difficult major, finance, which kept her mind occupied while Justin's star on the football field grew brighter. Weekends were spent at his games, cheering him on as he threw touchdown after touchdown, her heart swelling with pride. Weekdays were spent in the library, her nose buried in textbooks and assignments, the fizz of energy drinks and the hum of her beat-up, noisy laptop her only companions.

Reaching the second semester of their senior year offered only a week of respite before Justin was thrown in the world of NFL Scouting. Her own dreams of graduate studies and a career in private equity felt like whispers in the shadow of his burgeoning football career. The conversations grew shorter, the dates grew less frequent, and the shared glances grew colder. Yet, they held on, promising each other that once he was drafted, once he had a team, once he had a season under his belt, things would go back to normal. But "normal" remained a mirage on the horizon, a concept that grew more and more distant with each passing day.

The only point of "normal" in their lives was her commitment to being exactly what Justin needed. She'd put aside her own aspirations to support him, to be the rock he leaned on. She'd given up on the idea of going to graduate school across the country on the east coast, accepting the offer of USC's more expensive Master of Science in Finance program to be close to him, to be his source of "normal" so far from home.

Paradoxically, his star power had awarded her praise and made her invisible at the same time. Everyone knew her as "Justin Herbert's girlfriend," the one who'd been with him since high school, who'd stuck by his side through it all.

She still remembered the way she had been praised online for a week after his draft night. When his name was called, 6th overall, he rose to embrace his parents first, his brothers, then her, a gesture that had been captured by cameras and splashed across the internet. "The girlfriend who said no to a full ride for love," the headlines had read. They raved about her dress, her smile, her poise. How she never hogged the spotlight, never took the shine away from him.

Their parents had always been thrilled, beaming with joy at the thought of their star-crossed love story. Holly had a running list of gorgeous wedding venues, while her father had mentally started envisioning the father-daughter dance. But as the years went by, and the seasons changed from football to weddings, she kept wondering when it would be their turn.

"Soon", was always Justin's promise. "Soon that'll be us. Signing marriage certificates, sharing a first dance, honeymooning in Hawaii". But soon had become a taunt in her mind. The season had a way of swallowing up time, leaving her with crumbs of attention and a mountain of empty promises. Her own life had become a series of "not yet"s and "just wait"s. And she had, she had waited.

She waited so long that she no longer had to carefully construct a hopeful response when their friends and family spoke about their future together. She waited so long that the question of "when are you two tying the knot?" had become a greeting rather than a curious inquiry. She waited so long that Justin's non-reaction to her hints about marriage had turned into a hope that by just ignoring it, it would come sooner.

All of these realizations had floated near her consciousness, just out of reach with the constant buzz of Justin's schedule. But during a night out with her coworkers, it had all crystallized.

She wanted to go to Johannesburg. It was possibly her most defining characteristic aside from who her boyfriend was, a desire that had been with her since she was a child, sparked by a documentary she had watched with her mother. She'd always dreamed of seeing the wildlife, the vibrant culture, and the stark beauty of the city she'd seen in the footage. So when another third-year associate, Noel, asked why she had never gone, she blanked.

The truth was, she had never left the country. Not once. Justin had never shown an interest in traveling, always citing his discomfort with flying private or his need to unwind at home, in Oregon, after the season. So, she never got a passport, hoping her lack of documentation would keep her from even looking at potential flights. But tonight, she finally had to admit to someone else what she had been too afraid to admit to herself. "Justin's schedule keeps us pretty busy," she'd murmured, her voice barely carrying over the chatter of the bar. "We haven't had the chance."

The silence that followed her confession to Noel was deafening. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her chest tight and her eyes stinging. So the conversation moved on, but the weight of her truth remained, a leaden presence in her chest.

Lightheartedly, the conversation eventually moved to relationships - or the group's general lack thereof. Not her. When Jordan casually asked how long she had been with Justin, she felt like a spotlight was shone on her. "Ten years," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else. Something that didn't quite fit with the expression on her face.

The group's collective gasp was a mix of awe and sympathy. "Ten years?" Folake questioned, a hint of pity in her voice. "And you've never been with anyone else? That's… intense, girl. You're only 26."

Her cheeks warmed with a rush of embarrassment she hadn't felt since high school. She took a sip of her drink, trying to swallow the discomfort. "It's not like that," she protested, her voice small. But the words felt hollow, even to her own ears. "We're good together. I've known him forever." She lifted her drink to her lips again, adding a monotone "literally" for good measure.

Her coworkers nodded politely, but their expressions remained skeptical. They were all young and eager, exploring the world beyond their cubicles, and she suddenly felt ancient and untouched by the world beyond her relationship. The realization grew sharper with each nod, each kind but knowing smile.

Her mind raced as she headed home that night, her thoughts swirling like a tornado of doubt and regret. While she had spent her college years tied to the sidelines, her peers had traveled the world, stayed out all night, and experienced the thrill of one night stands and heartbreaks. They had grown into their own people, shaped by the people they'd loved - and grown to hate. They'd learned from their mistakes, grown stronger, and had stories to tell. But her? All she had was Justin. For ten years, Justin was enough. But now, with the starkness of her own stagnation laid bare, she was no longer sure if it was enough.

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she entered the living room, the house eerily quiet without the usual background noise of Justin's video games or his humming of some Yacht Rock hit under his breath. She inhaled deeply, smelling the lingering scent of his meal prepped dinner - something packed with protein and greens, a meal she had learned to cook because it was what he needed.

She tiptoed into their bedroom, her eyes immediately picking up on his sleeping form despite the darkness. The TV was off, remote discarded haphazardly on the bedside table. She took a moment to simply look at him, the man who had been her entire world for so long. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and she felt the tug of something deep within her, a strange cocktail of fear rising in her throat.

As if symbolic of that fear, she could feel her drinks come up, threatening to spill the truth along with their contents. She swallowed hard, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She tried to ease her breathing, the quiet of the night seeming to amplify every little sound.

Then the sheets rustled, and Justin's eyes blinked open. "Babe?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. She stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Swallowing thickly, she added, "Go to sleep, J. I'll come to bed in a minute."

Justin exhaled deeply through his nose, nodding without protest and closing his eyes again. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, burying her face in her hands. How could she explain that she was breaking down because she had never truly lived? Because she had given up so much of herself for him that she didn't know who she was anymore?

She loved him. She swore she did. But as she stared at the ceiling, listening to his even breaths, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. The house, once filled with the warmth of their laughter and shared dreams, now felt like a museum of memories rather than a living space. Each room was a shrine to a past she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

"So, Saturday morning, Pat's gonna come over to help me with that entertainment center," Justin announced casually at breakfast the next day, his eyes on his phone. She stared at the cereal in her bowl, her spoon hovering above the surface.

"Okay," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't look up from his phone. "It's been sitting there for like a year, might as well get it done since I have some time."

She nodded, her mind racing. Time. That's what it boiled down to. Time for him to build his man cave, and no time for her desires to travel. The cereal in her bowl had gone soggy, the taste of the milk turning unappetizing in her mouth. "Hey," she started softly, unsure. "Can we… talk about something?"

Justin looked up, his eyes scanning her face, looking for a clue to her mood. "Yeah, sure," he said, setting his phone aside. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Do you ever wish you had explored other options in college?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Justin blinked, once, twice, the question seemingly catching him off guard. He paused, tilting his head as he considered his response. "What do you mean, like majoring in something else?"

"No, I mean… with us," she clarified, her voice growing stronger. "Do you ever think about what it would have been like to date other people?"

Justin balked at that, as if immediately rejecting the idea. "What other options?" he asked, his tone one of genuine confusion. "I had you."

The simplicity of his response hit her like a sledgehammer. He had never doubted them, never questioned their destiny to be together. He had never felt the need to explore other relationships because he had her. But she was doubting, she was questioning, and it was tearing her apart.

"I know, but…" she said, pushing her cereal bowl away with a frustrated huff.

Justin's eyes tracked her movements, a frown furrowing his brow. "But what? Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" He reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch was familiar, almost comforting. Almost.

She looked at her hand, feeling the weight of the promise ring on her finger. "Because maybe we've been too comfortable," she murmured. "We've been together since we were sixteen. We've never really lived apart from each other, never experienced other relationships, other people."

"Babe," he began, his voice low. "Are you being serious right now?"

Her throat tightened as she met his gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "I just… I think we need to take some time apart."

Justin's hand retreated from her arm like it had been scalded. He sat back in his chair, the color draining from his face. "What?"

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," she started, her voice shaking, "but I think my entire identity has been wrapped up in being your girlfriend for so long that I don't know who I am without you." She watched as Justin's eyes searched hers, desperation and confusion swirling in his gaze. "I don't know if this is what I want anymore."

Justin's jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he clasped his hands together. "Are you breaking up with me?" the words spilled out. "Did I do something?"

She hesitated, her heart aching as she watched the shock wash over Justin's face. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so lost. "I don't…" she trailed off, averting his gaze. "I just think we need some space to figure out what we want."

His hands unclenched and he sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. "Okay," Justin said finally, his voice barely a murmur. "I guess if that's what you think you need." He drew in a slow breath, closing his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose, as if trying to hold back his emotions.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him process her words. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just…"

"It's fine," Justin said, his own voice tight. "We can take a break or whatever. I don't care."

But it wasn't fine. Not for either of them. The air in the room had thickened, their shared history hanging heavily around them like an invisible shroud. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of the words she had just spoken.

"Justin," she began, her voice cracking, "I'm sorry. It's just…" But she couldn't find the words to explain the maelstrom of emotions inside her. She felt guilty for her doubts, for the years of sacrifice she had made, for the future she was now unsure of.

Justin's eyes searched hers, his face a canvas of pain. "You don't have to justify it to me," he said. "I just don't know how we're gonna explain this to everyone else."

It was wedding season. A lineup of white dresses and happy couples with months-old RSVPs that now felt like a cruel joke. The thought of attempting to explain to her family and friends, to the brides and grooms who had eagerly invited them, was nauseating. So they agreed, not to lie, but to omit. They would still attend the weddings, dance, laugh, take photos, and play the part of the happy sweethearts.

The first wedding they had to face was a family friend of hers, someone she had known since childhood. The ceremony was held in a picturesque garden, the flowers in full bloom and the air filled with the sweet scent of roses and the distant chatter of guests. Justin looked dashing in his baby-blue button-up and dress pants. His skin glowed under the soft sunlight, and a pair of black sunglasses hung casually on his collar.

Her yellow bridesmaid's dress, her fourth in five years, hugged her body in a way that highlighted her figure. The fabric whispered against her skin as she walked down the aisle, her eyes focused on the altar. She felt Justin's gaze on her, the weight of his stare heavier than any bouquet. She didn't dare look at him, afraid that if she looked at him, she'd shatter the illusion or crumble on the spot.

The wedding was a blur of forced smiles and small talk. Every time her thoughts drifted to their impending breakup, she'd be yanked back to reality by a well-meaning auntie or uncle asking when it would be their turn. She would laugh politely, playing along, while the ache in her chest grew sharper with each passing minute. Justin, ever the charmer, fielded questions with his media-trained ease, but she could see the sadness lurking beneath his surface, a numbness that kept the creases from reaching his eyes when he smiled.

His familiar way of reaching out for her burned. The habitual hand splayed on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, the casual kiss on her forehead as he left her side to refill their drinks. It was second nature, and she hated herself for craving it even as she knew she needed to break away.

"You ready to go?" Justin's voice broke through her thoughts as the reception began to wind down, the newlyweds having made their grand exit. She nodded, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

They left the party hand in hand, a silent agreement to keep up appearances, but the second they were out in the open air, she let go. They walked the two blocks to their rented hotel room in complete silence. The room, much like their RSVPs, had been booked, for a couple, nearly a year in advance. A king-sized bed with crisp, white linens taunted her from the center of the room.

"I can call the front desk," Justin offered, his voice strained. "See if they have a single room available."

Her gaze remained on the bed, her heart racing at the thought of sleeping in the same room with him. She took a deep breath, willing her voice to be steady. "No, it's okay. It's just one night." She turned to him. "We've shared a bed for years. What's one more?"

Justin's eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of hope and despair. He began to say her name, breathing every syllable out as if it were heavy on his tongue, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Justin," she said firmly. "I'm the one who put us in this situation. It's my fault. I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have." She pasted on a smile that she hoped was convincing. "Let's just get through the night. I know you're exhausted."

He nodded, his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing his emotions, all the thoughts passing through his mind dying on the tip of his tongue. She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders as she approached the bed. She slid under the covers, turning her back to his side of the bed, willing sleep to come and relieve her of the turmoil in her heart.

She was fast asleep by the time Justin finished his shower. The room was dark, the only light coming from the gap of the curtains allowing the city lights to leek into the room. Her rhythmic breathing filled the space, a sound that had once been comforting but now almost felt like a countdown. He slid into the bed with as much grace as he could muster, his movements calculated not to wake her. But as the mattress shifted, she rolled towards him, her head coming to rest on his chest.

Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps from the cold, her breaths shallow and quick. She was still asleep, her search for his warmth unconscious. He could feel the heat of her cheek against his bare chest, the softness of her skin against his. He wanted to turn the other way, to maintain the space they had agreed upon, but he knew her too well.

She didn't sleep well when she was cold, and the chill in the room had always been the perfect excuse for their cuddling. Realistically, he could call down to the front desk, request a blanket, and she would sleep well enough, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to give up this moment of closeness, of normalcy. So he lay there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each of her breaths, feeling her warmth spread through him like a warm blanket. For just one more night, he could pretend that she hadn't broken his heart. That she didn't want something that wasn't him.

He knew he should move her, give them both the space they needed to begin the process of breaking, but he couldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead, her skin smelling faintly of the floral perfume she'd worn to the wedding. For a brief moment, everything felt as it had before their conversation—right, complete, as if their hearts were beating in sync.

The next wedding was for a college friend of theirs. It was an elegant affair at a historic mansion. High ceilings and chandeliers reflected in the polished floors, creating a dazzling display that managed to distract the other guests from the fact that she and Justin had kept to separate sides of the venue.

Justin had been avoiding her gaze all night, his heart hammering in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her in her floor-length gown that brought out the warmth of her eyes and the radiance of her brown skin. He watched her mingle from the other side of the room, a chilled beer in his hand, his smile plastic as he talked with friends he hadn't seen in months, others in years. They all asked the same questions, the same "What's the mood in the locker room?" or "How do the new guys look?" and dreadfully, "When are you gonna be sending out your own invitations?" His answers were rehearsed, delivered with the same charm that had won over so many, but for some reason had pushed her away.

"Yo, Herbo!" A deep, jovial voice boomed across the reception hall, cutting through the chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. Justin looked up to see one of his old college buddies, Jeremiah, striding towards him with a beer in hand. Jeremiah Wells was a towering presence, with a smile that could ease the pants off a snake. "How's the off-season treating you?"

Justin managed a smile, his eyes darting to her across the room, who was deep in conversation with two of her old college friends. "It's… yeah, it's been good, Wells."

Jeremiah slapped him on the back, bringing him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, man. And Y/N too, of course." Justin nodded, his heart twisting at the mention of her name. "But where is she?" Jeremiah scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on her. "Oh, there she is."

Justin's ears perked up at that. For all of Jeremiah's easygoing nature, he had always had a keen eye for the truth. He had a high level of intuition, a trait that made him an excellent day trader, and it was clear that he sensed something was amiss with her and Justin. "Is everything okay with you two?" he asked, his smile still in place but his eyes searching.

Justin took a sip of his beer, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "We're fine. You know, life gets busy. Shit happens." He hoped the steadiness in his voice would be enough to throw Jeremiah off, but the way his friend's eyes searched his told him it wasn't.

"Come on, man. You can tell me," Jeremiah urged, leaning in closer. "If you guys are going through something, maybe I can help. Give you a different perspective?" He nudged Justin gently, his expression earnest.

Justin felt the pressure building behind his eyes, the strength in his posture threatening to crack. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotions at bay. "Jere," he began, his voice gruff. "It's not that simple."

"Try me. I swear on my life," Jeremiah said, his voice low and serious. "If you just need to vent, I got you, man. Whatever's going on, you know you can trust me."

Gray-green eyes flickered over to her. She was laughing at something one of her friends had said, and for a moment, Justin felt a pang of jealousy. He remembered making her laugh like that, the way her eyes crinkled at the sides and her mouth stretched wide, revealing that familiar row of teeth. He missed it. He missed her.

He didn't know how he was supposed to let that go.

"We're taking a break. Or breaking up? I don't—" he shook his head, cutting himself off. "I don't know what we're doing."

Jeremiah's smile faded, his eyes searched Justin's. "For real?"

Justin nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "For real."

Jeremiah's expression grew serious. "Shit, man, I had no idea." He took a step closer, his hand resting on Justin's shoulder. "But I'm guessing that was kind of the point? Not letting anyone know?"

Justin nodded again, his throat tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Yeah. She came home one night and said she needed to find herself and explore her options. Said she didn't know if this was really what she wanted." His voice cracked on the last word, and he took a deep, shaky breath. "We've got one more wedding to get through before we start telling anyone."

Jeremiah's gaze remained on him, filled with concern. "Justin," he said, his voice gentle. "Is that what you want? To 'explore other options'?"

Justin took a long pull from his beer, the cool liquid doing little to ease the burning in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I love her. And if that's what she needs, I'll do it."

If the way Jeremiah's lips pressed into a thin line told Justin anything, it was that his friend wasn't buying the act. "I didn't ask what you thought she needed," Jeremiah said, his eyes unwavering. "I asked if that was what you want."

Justin took a moment to consider the question. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew was that the thought of her with someone else was like a knife twisting in his gut. "I just don't want to lose her," he said finally. "But if this is what it takes for her to be happy, then I guess I'll have to figure it out."

That wasn't it either. Jeremiah laughed, a low, knowing sound. "So I guess the answer to my question is 'no'?" A dark eyebrow quirked up. "If you don't want this to be the end, you gotta tell her, Justin. You can't just sit back and hope she reads your mind. If she's feeling lost, you've got to be the one to help her find her way back."

Justin stared into his beer, the condensation on the amber bottle pooling down the side, creating a wet ring around the bottom. "What if she doesn't want to come back to me?" he murmured, the words barely audible over the music.

Jeremiah's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Then you fight for her, man. You don't let the girl that you love just walk away without showing her what she's really giving up." His voice was firm, filled with the kind of conviction that only came from personal experience. "But you've got to be honest with her. If you keep playing this game of pretend, you're just going to end up hurt. Both of you."

Justin nodded, the words resonating deep within him. He knew Jeremiah was right, but the fear of rejection was paralyzing. What if she truly didn't see a future with him? What if he was the reason she felt so stifled? The mere thought of it was enough to make his heart ache. He took a deep breath, nodding with pursed lips. "Thanks, Jere," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, the music and laughter of the wedding party a stark contrast to the gravity of their conversation. Then, with a final pat on the back, Jeremiah excused himself, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but watch her across the room, the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her eyes sparkled with life. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time in years, really seeing her, and the pain of knowing he could lose her was unbearable.

He shifted his weight, leaning his back against the bar to get a good look at her. From across the room he was reminded of the first time he realized he was in love with her, before he could fully articulate all the intricate little meanings of love. It was at his Senior Night, after the final football game of his high school career. He had been surrounded by the cheers of victory, the smell of the field still in his nostrils, but it was her, with her smile and those damn beautiful eyes, that mattered most.

It took an entire PowerPoint to convince her to walk with him on the field. She was worried about taking the moment away from his parents and friends, but he insisted that she was just as much a part of his moment as anyone else. So, she'd walked with him, reluctantly, but with him nonetheless. He remembered the fro-yo date afterward, the way she'd laughed to the point of snorting when he'd accidentally spilled a spoonful of sugary ingredients all over the floor. He remembered her dragging him to the bathroom to retrieve a handful of paper towels to escape the glare of the unamused teenager behind the check-out counter. He remembered the way her eyes had shone when he'd told her that he'd follow her anywhere—even to the ends of the earth, if that's where her dreams led.

And here he was, a decade later, wondering if he had ever truly followed her anywhere at all. The realization was a slap in the face. He had been so focused on his own dreams, his own ambition, that he had failed to support hers. He had been so caught up in following his dreams that he wasn't sure if she was living out hers.

It was then that her point became clear. The weddings were a microcosm of their life together—beautiful, expected, but ultimately not hers. Just like her dreams, just like her life.

Finding a realtor had been surprisingly easy. She had a great job, an excellent credit score, and a clear idea of what she wanted. A one, or two-bedroom apartment with a decent view, a reasonable commute to work, and a park within walking distance. The real estate agent, a bubbly woman in her mid-20s named Esme, had shown her half a dozen options before she finally found the one. It was a cute, modern space with an open-plan living room and kitchen, and a balcony that looked out over the city lights. It checked every box and added a few more she hadn't realized she had.

"I think we like this one!" Esme announced in that sing-songy tone of hers. She shoulders wiggled in a little dance as she bounced over to her.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the space. It was a nice place, no doubt about it. The white walls contrasted nicely against the dark hardwood floors, giving the room a clean, spacious feel. The kitchen was on the smaller side but functional, with a sleek fridge and a gas stove that called to her inner chef. The living room held a plush couch and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that seemed to whisper promises of quiet nights and good reads.

But there was something missing. As she wandered from room to room, her excitement was tainted by the ghost of what once was. Justin would hate an apartment like this. He had always talked about a house with a big backyard and enough space so they could host barbecues and watch the sunset. She could practically hear his grumbled complaints in her ear. Not too loud that the realtor would be able to hear. No, he was always much too polite for that. He would grumble just for her with a pout that was so cute it made her want to laugh, even when she disagreed with him.

They had talked about their dream house so many times over the years. It had grown and evolved as they had, but it had always been a shared vision. Now, as she pictured herself living here alone, the vision felt like it was slowly slipping away.

"I do like it," she smiled weakly at Esme, who was watching her expectantly. "I… I think we can move forward with this one."

Esme clapped her hands together with a cheerful smile. "Perfect! We'll get the paperwork started right away. It's a popular building, so you're lucky to have snagged it." She began to gather her brochures and keys. "I've had a few clients wait just a little too long and miss out. But with your income and credit score, you should be good to go!"

She nodded, trying to keep the smile plastered on her face as she thought about the last time she had moved, the excitement of moving into her home with Justin after college. How they had toured homes in South Bay, looking for the perfect place to start their life together. Now, that perfect place with the marble counters she chose and the custom pool tiling Justin picked out was drifting farther out of her reach.

"Thank you," she said to the realtor as they exited the multi-storied, sleek apartment building, her voice a mere echo of its usual self. "I'll try to give you the green light as soon as I can."

Esme nodded understandingly. "Take your time! This is a big step. But I'm here to help." With a cheery wave, she left her side to find her car.

She stood on the sidewalk, the evening air thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant sound of a laughing child playing in the nearby park. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks: this was it. This was her new life. No more sprawling suburban mansion with Justin's elastic headbands scattered on every surface possible, no more weekends spent hosting pool parties for their friends. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to spill over.

With a click to her remote control, the driver's side door of her sedan opened. Her hand trembled around the handle as she slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool against her skin. The door shut with a solid thunk, and she sat there, the sun beating down on the car through the window. Her eyes stunk, her breath hitched, and the tears she had been holding back for weeks finally fell.

Her chest heaved with the weight of her sobs, the keys still clutched in her hand, the metal digging into her palms. Her tears fell hot and thick on her cheeks, mixing with her makeup and leaving a salty taste on her lips. She didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them flow freely like the emotions that were tearing her apart. The dashboard of her car was the only witness to her pain, the only place she could let herself break down without fear of judgment or pity.

It was a painful, aching cry that seemed to come from the very marrow of her bones. The kind of cry that left her feeling both raw and exhausted. The kind of cry she hadn't had since her grandmother passed away. As her tears fell, she struggled to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a tight grip.

There was no relief in her sobs, no catharsis in the release of pent-up emotions. The reality of their impending breakup was sinking in, and she felt like she was drowning. She had never felt so alone. Despite the years they had spent together, it was as if she was just beginning to understand the depth of her sacrifice. She had been a silent cheerleader, a supportive girlfriend, but in the grand scheme of her life, she had willingly taken a back seat. And now, as she faced the prospect of starting over, she wondered if she was even making the right choice.

They had one wedding left. One last day to play the happy couple before they would finally, truly, be apart. In forty-eight short hours, the last ten years of her life would be over.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone.

The next wedding, a breezy ceremony down by the beach, was the last hurdle before their charade ended. The sun was warm on her skin as she stood in her bridesmaid's dress, a soft blush pink that matched the setting sun. A solid, white platform supported the couple and the wedding party as they exchanged vows, the ocean waves playing a soothing melody in the background.

Justin stood on the other side, his groomsmen's tuxedo fitting him like a glove, the light playing with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. It was a miracle he wasn't shifting uncomfortably in his suit, considering the heat of the late afternoon sun. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the words of the bride and groom. The gel inserts in her heels were doing wonders for her soles, but she felt anything but grounded. She felt like she was floating, detached from her body, watching the scene unfold like a movie she was supposed to be experiencing first hand.

The ceremony seemed to fly by in a blur, and before she knew it, the officiant was prompting the bride and groom to repeat their vows. She glanced at Justin to find his eyes already focused on her. His hands were clasped tightly together, as if attempting to hold onto something unseen, his expression was one of quiet desperation. The love in his gaze was palpable, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to crumble on the spot.

"I, Alannah, take you, Tai, to be my lawfully wedded husband," the bride's sweet voice filled the air, and she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," the bride continued, her voice strong and clear.

Confident.

Sure.

She felt the words hit her like a wave. Tears pricked at her eyes, the very same affect reflected on Justin's face. She knew he was thinking about their own future, or lack thereof.

When the groom spoke up to echo the vows, Justin broke. He had to look away from her, his eyes stinging with a pool of tears. The weddings had been torturous, but none more so than this one. They had always talked about their future, what their wedding would be like, the vows they would write for each other. It was cruel irony that the final wedding of the season was their closest friend's, and they would have to stand there, just across from each other, and watch someone else live the fairy tale that should have been theirs. The fairy tale that once was so close that Justin had started brainstorming all the promises he'd make to her at the altar.

She watched as he tried his best to keep his composure, feeling the weight of his pain mirroring her own. The wedding was beautiful, filled with the kind of love and promise she had always hoped her own wedding would hold. Yet here they were, standing before their friends and family with the fractures of their relationship laid barely beneath the surface, ready to shatter at any moment.

She barely blinked before they were inside for the reception. The ballroom was a whirlwind of activity, with guests mingling and congratulating the newlyweds. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air, the kind of joy that made her heart feel both full and hollow at the same time. She found a seat at the bridesmaid's table and picked at her dinner, her appetite lost in the sea of emotions crashing against her.

Neither of them had looked at each other since the vow exchange, the weight of the words still heavy in the air. The reception was a blur of small talk and forced smiles. They danced with other people, their bodies moving through the motions while their hearts felt like they were stuck in quicksand. But as the night grew late and the party grew tired, the DJ announced the final slow dance.

The opening chords of the DJ's song of choice filled the reception hall, and she recognized it instantly.

If I go a million miles away

I'd write a letter, each and every day

Nothing Can Change This Love by Sam Cooke began to play. The slow, soulful melody drifting through the speakers like a ghost from their past. It was their song, the one they had heard in a movie and decided it was written for them, the one they had danced to in the kitchen when they were both miserably under the weather, the one they had talked about playing at their wedding. Her heart lurched as she felt a hand gently on her shoulder. She turned to find Justin's blue eyes filled with a silent plea.

"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice maybe the softest she'd ever heard it. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn't sure she had the power to refuse.

She felt the air leave her lungs as she nodded. They took their places on the dance floor, their bodies close but not quite touching. The music swelled around them, a poignant reminder of their shared history. The dance floor was crowded with other couples, but she could only see him, feel him. His hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Make me weep and you can make me cry

See me coming and you can pass me by

But honey, nothing, nothing, can ever change this love I have for you

Her body melted into Justin's embrace as they swayed to the rhythm, her hand resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, bringing a comfort she hadn't realized she missed so profoundly. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a reminder of the love they once shared, the love she was trying so hard to let go of. She could feel the dampness of his shirt where her tears had fallen, a silent confession of the pain she was in.

You're the apple of my eye

You're cherry pie

And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream

You're sugar and spice, and everything nice

She could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest as he softly sung along to the lyrics, the words muffled and filled with a sadness she hadn't heard in his voice before. His hand slid up to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes closed and she let herself lean into him, the fabric of their wedding party attire rustling as they danced. It was as if the world around them had disappeared, leaving only the two of them, their hearts beating in a silent admission of love and loss.

You're the girl of my, my, my, my, dreams

That had always been his favorite line of the song. She knew it well, had heard him whisper it into her ear countless times, had felt it in every kiss and caress. Now, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. She didn't know if she could do this, didn't know if she could stand here and pretend like this dance didn't mean anything when every fiber of her being was begging her to stay, to forget the ache of her heart and the doubt in her mind.

But if you wanted to leave me and roam

When you got back, I'd just say 'welcome home'

'Cause honey, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you

She felt the warm, steady trickle of tears continue slip down her cheeks as she listened to the lyrics, feeling Justin's warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her through the dance. She could hear the way the lyrics caught in Justin's throat, the tremor of his voice as he sang along to the song, their song.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change the love I have for you

The last lines of the song left her lips, finishing off where Justin's voice had completely given out. They held each other tighter, the music now just background to their silent, desperate conversation of touch and regret. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving with the sobs she'd been holding back for nearly two months.

Justin leaned down, his cheek against hers. He didn't say anything, just held her there, the two of them moving in unison to the music that had played so many times before in happier moments. She felt his breath against her skin, the warmth of his body surrounding her, and for a moment, she pretended they were in their kitchen again, just two teenagers lost in the music and perfectly content with their love alone.

But the moment was shattered when the song ended, the applause of the guests echoing through the ballroom. They separated slowly, awkwardly, like two magnets forced apart after years of clinging together. She could see the wetness in Justin's eyes, the unshed tears that mirrored her own. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, the words caught in her throat like shards of glass.

He nodded at that, releasing her hand to shove his own into his pockets. Then he turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She turned in the opposite direction, finding the bathroom to touch up her makeup before returning to the reception floor to enjoy the last few moments of mingling.

In the haze of her emotions, she had completely forgotten about the hotel room. Another room booked nearly a year in advance with a king-sized bed meant for two, for a couple that was no longer. As the reception wound down and the last of the guests bid their congratulations to the newlyweds, she found herself unable to move from the spot where she had been standing. The reality of the night ahead washed over her like a cold shower.

The silence in the car on the way to the hotel was oppressive, each mile feeling like a countdown to the end of an era. Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, avoiding the reflection of the city lights in the rearview mirror, which only served to remind her of the apartment she had just seen two days prior.

They managed to make it up to the room without a word, the weight of the evening pressing down on them like a heavy fog. Visibly, they both looked exhausted, drained from the weight of every emotion under the sun passing through them like conducted electricity. Once inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft click that echoed through the suite.

All she wanted was to get out of her dress, take a shower, and crawl into bed. But even in the solace of the bathroom, she couldn't escape the universe's inconvenient timing. The dress that was perfectly tailored to her measurements and had slipped on so easily early that day was now unfathomably difficult to remove. The metal zipper seemed to have a vendetta against her, sticking and snagging with each painful attempt to pull it down. The shake in her hands and the tears welling in her eyes didn't help the process. It was as if the dress had become a metaphor for their relationship - something that once fit so snugly now felt suffocatingly tight.

She wasn't sure how long she had been fighting with the zipper when Justin's voice called out softly, "Hey, do you need help?" His words pierced through the silence. He was close, just beyond the door as if he had heard her frustration and come running. She took a moment to compose herself before responding, "Please." The door creaked open, and he stepped in, his eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. Gently, he took over, his strong hands making quick work of the stubborn zipper. The dress slid down her body, revealing her bare back to the cool air. She stepped out of the dress, the fabric pooling at her feet.

She sniffled, failing to maintain her composure as she wrapped her arms around herself. Justin took in the sight of her, his heart clenching. He had seen her in various states of undress over the years, but this moment was different. This was not intimate, but a silent understanding that this could the last time he'd ever see her like this. Vulnerable, near naked, and so utterly beautiful.

"Hey, talk to me," Justin whispered, reaching for a white robe to hand her. The fabric was soft, the hotel's emblem embroidered neatly on the chest. She took the robe, her trembling hands proving useless in the task of tying it. Justin stepped in, his hands deftly wrapping the material around her, his touch gentle and tender.

She turned to face him, her eyes swimming in unshed tears. "I can't," she whispered back, her voice cracking.

Justin took a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with the same pain. "Can't what, baby?" He stepped closer, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"I can't talk to you," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too hard. Seeing you, touching you, it's too much." She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay strong. "I'm not ready to let you go, but I feel like I have to."

If Justin could fall to his knees and thank whatever deity had brought him to this moment, he would. Instead, he swallowed his pride and fear, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He could feel her body tremble against his own, and for a moment, everything was right in the world. "You don't have to," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "We don't have to do this. I don't want to do this."

'Want'. His conversation with Brandon echoed through his mind. He could practically hear him say, 'What do you want, Justin?' The answer had always been relatively simple. But now, it couldn't be more simple. He wanted her. The woman who had been his everything for a decade. The woman whose hand he had held through countless highs and lows, whose smile had been the brightest spot in his darkest moments.

"But we—" she started, only to be cut off by Justin who shook his head.

"No," Justin said firmly, pulling away to look at her. "We don't have to do anything we're not ready for. I know we said we'd go through with this, but I can't lose you." His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of hope. "I don't want us to go on a break or break up. Not because it would be inconvenient or… or because I'm comfortable. I don't want to lose you because you're the only woman I've ever loved."

She looked up at him, the robe feeling like it was made of lead on her shoulders.

"Every time I've told you I love you, I meant it," Justin continued, his voice shaking. "I can't imagine how much it must hurt you to think that I don't mean that wholeheartedly. I know I've dropped the ball; I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been. But, baby, I want to be. I need to be."

She felt her resolve slipping. "Justin, you're going to be okay," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're a catch. You're going to find someone who'll love you for you."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "But I don't want anyone else. I want you. Only you." His hand reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of feeling through her body that she hadn't felt in so long. "You said that you thought we didn't experience enough of the world to know that this is it for us," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Well, I'm telling you now, I don't need to. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I will do whatever it takes to make this work. To make you happy."

She exhaled but didn't speak, allowing him a chance to finally fight for her. "I can't let you walk away from me without telling you that I've spent the last ten years of my life in awe of the woman you've become," Justin whispered, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I want to wake up to your smile, watch you conquer the world, and be the shoulder you lean on. I've made mistakes, I know, but I want to learn from them, and I'll keep learning. For you, I'll do whatever it takes."

"But, you could make another woman so happy," she replied, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.

"I don't want to make another woman happy. All I've ever wanted is to make you happy," Justin said. It was his turn for his voice to crack with emotion. "If you want us to start over, relearn each other, explore who we are now, I'll do it." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will relearn everything about you, no matter how long it takes, because my favorite part of living this life is living it with you. I don't know how I'm supposed to let you walk when you're everything I need. You're all I've dreamed about and everything I've planned for."

He reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "I love you. And I'm not willing to let go." His voice was a gentle plea, the desperation in his eyes mirroring the tumult in her heart. "Give me a chance to make it up to you," he whispered, his thumb brushing away another tear. "Give us a chance. Please."

Her breath caught in her throat, the words she had so desperately needed to hear echoing in her ears. The love she had pushed aside in her quest for self-discovery rushed back to the forefront, threatening to drown her in its intensity. She searched his eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity, but all she found was raw, unencumbered love.

All she could do was nod, the dam of her emotions giving way. Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful and desperate. "We can work on us," he murmured. "We can grow together, support each other's dreams, and build the life we've talked about for so long." He paused, his heart racing. "Just please say yes."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "Yes." It was the softest, most hopeful sound she had made in weeks. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. The relief that flooded through him was palpable, radiating off of his skin, his embrace tightening around her. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent as if it was the sweetest perfume in the world.

[chunghasweetie]

𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk

— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | rush — william singe

His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.

His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.

Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.

Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.

Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.

The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.

He was already done for.

“Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”

He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.

“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.

His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.

He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.

He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.

Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.

“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.

He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”

The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.

She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.

“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”

He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”

She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.

Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.

Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.

He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.

He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.

“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.

‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.

He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up

He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.

“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”

He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”

He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.

“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.

His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.

He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”

She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.

His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.

It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.

“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.

He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.

He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.

About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.

“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“

“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Y/n interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”

He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.

He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”

“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”

He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“

“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”

He nodded.

Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.

He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.

He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.

Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.

“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.

“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“It just— never happened.” He told her.

“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”

“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”

She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.

He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”

“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.

“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”

Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”

She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.

Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.

She had no interest in anyone like that.

She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.

Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.

Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.

He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.

Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.

Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.

It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.

Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.

Hated it because it wasn’t her.

She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”

He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.

“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.

“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.

She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.

“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”

Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.

She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.

Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”

There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.

His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.

He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”

“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.

He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.

He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.

“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.

He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.

“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.

“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.

“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”

He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.

“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”

“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.

Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.

She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.

He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”

“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”

He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.

He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.

He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.

“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”

Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.

“It’s good huh baby?” Y/n cooed. “You’re so big baby”

“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.

He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"

She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."

She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”

Jungkook's heart races as Y/n grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”

“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”

Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”

“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.

Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Y/n begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.

He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”

His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.

“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.

Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."

He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.

If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”

She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.

She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.

“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.

“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.

“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.

She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”

She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.

He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.

He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.

She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.

He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”

He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.

He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.

“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.

The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.

He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.

His dreams finally came true.

༊—

The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.

“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.

Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.

Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”

His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.

Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.

“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.

[luvnaomixo]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 I ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU

꒰ “you have beautiful eyes”… “yeah so do you” ꒱

• ⋆. you are assigned someone as a model for your college fashion show. While you are with this tall man taking his measurements he can’t help but take the chance to talk to such an angel like you . ۫︎

˚｡⋆ 𝒫𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. model!riki x fem!reader — 990wc.

stangers to lovers, kissing, cute lil crush on reader. ༝༚༝༚ … fluff 𝜗𝜚.

• 𝗻𝗮𝗼𝗺𝗶: hope you lovely’s enjoy (><)

︎ ︎︎ You and riki only see eachother at parties, this was someone you’d never even think to speak to only because of the pure opposites you two were. Riki Nishimura had so much intimidation to him you’d never even come to think he was in a modeling minor… only when you had looked at a list online of the names who were assigned to model for your piece in an upcoming fashion show.

The faint scent of fabric softener filled the Fashion studio it’s was only you in the building waiting for Riki. As you had arranged all your materials to start measuring. you look down at the folder with the name “niki shot” on it, you pick it up to open and examine the photo. it was niki.. damn he was so fine. A snapshot of niki that was honestly something you’d wanna keep after this project. You take a hot moment to look before you hear a voice from behind you… “he looks handsome,” you turn to see niki towering over you. The height difference was everything. “you cannot do that shit” you muttered turning back to the table with materials—placing your hands on the table.

“my fault” he makes a small smirk before walking around the table to look at your sketch of what you were planning on making. “this is what your making?” “yes I have to change a few things still but that’s what I had in mind” you say pretending to rearrange stuff so it looks like your doing something instead of looking at him… “So… what’s your name again?” Riki asked breaking the silence. “y/n” you replied without looking up and focused on what you needed.“Pretty name for someone who’s so serious”

“please stay still” you said as you took the measuring tape to start measuring his chest. Riki gave out a soft laugh, low and warm. making you feel that you had accomplished something just by making the boy laugh. As you move down to his waist to his thighs he looks down at you to ask “Have you done this before?”

“Plenty of times” you’d state going back to the notebook to jot down the measurement. “you’re not the first” you come back up to go measure his shoulders. “um could you..” indicating to take off his jacket. “speak up princess” he says looking at you. “your jacket riki…”you mutter. Riki shrugged, the movement effortlessly smooth as he slipped off his jacket and handed it to you. He wore a wifes beater exposing his shoulders. Just seeing his shoulders made it seem like he was hand sculpted by a literal god. You come out of your daze to wrap the measurement tape around his shoulders. Pausing for a moment. you notice how your murre inches away from him. You look up at him… “you have beautiful eyes” you realize what you just said and turned your head to hide your shame.. ain’t no way I just said that.

Riki smiles as he looks down at you. “yeah.. so do you.” it goes silent for a moment. “you know i’ve always been meaning to talk to you”. Riki states as you turn your head in shock to what he had just said. “shit I even signed up for this just to have a reason to.” Riki says while looking to the side making your heart skip a beat. “i just never thought my luck would land on you being my designer” he said looking back at you. Words couldn’t explain how shocked you were, but also relieved. You couldn’t explain it but something about him confessing this to you was really cute... “well i’m glad i got you too..” you quietly admit to Riki letting him know how you felt as well. You two take a good second to notice how close you were before you both had made contact with each other. Feeling his lips on yours was something out of a dream, you quite literally melted in his touch as his hands moved towards your waist and your hands to his chest with the measurement tape unraveled and still in hand. You both parted for a second to catch your breath. That didn’t last long once you both went back to each other deepening the kiss. One of Riki’s hands moving to cup the back of your lower head as you lift your arms to wrap them around his neck. This simply didn’t feel real… oh but it was… As you both parted your lips away from each other all you could hear is both of your heavy breathing. You looked at each other and smiled before Riki’s phone started spamming with notifications. “this fucking dude” Riki whispered to himself pulling out his phone as you chuckled a little. You snapped out of your trance before you realized it was sunset. Riki called his roommate jake, while over in the corner telling jake that he was cockblocking and such. Riki walked over back to where you were to grab his jacket and backpack. And you took your tote bag and put your notebook in it gathering your belongings while Riki hung up his phone putting it in his back pocket. Both of you were looking at each other when Riki took your phone opening it and point the screen at you to unlock it. “I’m adding my number” he said while smiling. Putting both hands on your phone you unlocked it, Riki turned the phone to put in his number. As doing so he put a cute little heart next to his name, handing the phone back to you. You took it back and smiled saving the contact.

As you turned off the lights you both walked out of the studio heading out the door. You both had stood outside while Riki asked you out on a date… I think we all know the answer<3 Riki had said that you two were gonna call later then said your goodbyes.

you had been walking back to your car when you got a text from niki saying…

Riki💗: i’ve only had eyes for you.

2024 © luvnaomixo

[honeytonedhottie]

get ready to get back to school⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🗒️

i can hardly believe that school is coming up. in like, two/one week. ISNT THAT ABSURD? i feel like summer just flew past but im very excited to start my junior year of highschool…💬🎀

BUYING DREAM SCHOOL SUPPLIES ;

when ur school supplies are cute, you'll feel MOTIVATED to put them to good use. idek what it is. 99% of my school supplies are pink and because of that im motivated to take good notes, study my notes etc because seeing the sparks of pink just make me so HAPPY.

so ofc this year my school supply list has remained consistent in its color scheme of pink, pink and more pink 🎀. some things on my school shopping list are ->

notebooks

a binder

dividers for the binders with adorable labels

pink and purple gel pens (along with black gel pens)

pastel highlighters

looseleaf paper

a fluffy pink pen

FIX UR SLEEP SCHEDULE ;

ik a lot of us (including myself some times) stay up for way to long and feel like our sleep schedule is BEYOND repair but it is not. u need to be getting back into a consistent sleeping routine that keeps u healthy and well rested not only for back to school but for ur own well being. you'll have plenty of time tomorrow for what u choose to stay up all night doing, i promise.

FOR MY ONLINE GIRLIES ;

so this year i'll be taking a semester online so i've been dabbling in figuring out the perfect routine for an online school regimen. one in which i could balance personal and academic life in a healthy way (get sunlight everyday, sleep on time etc) some things that im going to prioritize while doing a semester online are ->

♡ getting fresh air everyday

♡ going for a walk everyday and making sure to stay active

♡ NOT doing school work in bed

so a tip i've learned is that the things that u do in bed, your mind will like, associate ur bed with it. so for example if ur constantly playing video games in bed, when its time to relax and go to bed, when ur in bed your mind will be like "time to play video games". so i will not be doing school work in bed, also for a healthy change of scenery…💬🎀

♡ going out with my friends and calling them everyday so that im not isolated

♡ keeping a steady and productive routine

SETTING GOALS ;

lets be goal oriented, A+ academic barbies this year ✍🏽. to make sure that ur doing ur very best its important to set goals for urself. having something to strive for is a great way to stay motivated and disciplined during the year. my goal for my junior year is to keep my straight A streak and finish with my law distinction (im 3/4 of the way done). and ofc its important to break down ur goals, and i'll give an example of how i did this.

so in freshman year ik i wanted a distinction in law, and to get a distinction in law i would have to take 4 separate law courses. there are 4 years in highschool so if i took one law course per school year i'd have my distinction. but i wanted to expedite the process so i took one course freshman year, and two courses sophomore year. this year i will take one more.

this frees up SO much time for me to get another distinction and since i've already taken a course of business in freshman year, i'll strive for my business distinction too…💬🎀

if u dont know where to start with goal setting for school here are some ideas ->

♡ maintain ur current GPA or try and raise it

♡ never get below a B on any assignment or test

♡ do every single homework assignment (never take a zero)

STAYING ORGANIZED ;

staying organized is CRUCIAL for being successful in school. i use notion to keep myself organized during the school year. by putting down dates for tests in my calendar, ik when i need to start preparing. and by making a todo list everyday i can stay on top of my assignment.

if u struggle with school organization, set aside an hour a day to just make sure that everything is in its place. and it doesnt even have to be an hour, just set aside time every single day to make sure that everything it where its supposed to be. it'll save you SO much time in the future and you'll rly thank urself for it in the future.

and to end this post, i'll share some school/academic related affirmations 💗

🗒️ im literally the definition of beauty and brains

📔 im the top of my class

🗒️ i must have perfect memory cuz i remember everything im taught in class

📔 im literally a GENIUS

🗒️ i effortlessly stay at the top of my class

📔 wow, im smart, pretty, AND talented?? god rly does have favorites

[stardustbae]

LADS-High School AU//Headcanons

Pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus and Caleb x Non-MC!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Slice of Life

Note: This is my first time ever writing, so please be nice!🖤✨️

Xavier

-The guy who slept in the back of class all the time yet still got excellent grades, so the teachers didn't care.

-Wore a jersey mostly since they were warm and cozy. Whenever he wore a blazer, he always had his white hoodie under it.

-Forever had a bedhead, but he looked cute with it. (Everyone also thought that was how his hair naturally looked since it was somehow still neat)

-Was definitely on the chess team and did athletics for a sport. He also has a certain interest in fencing.

-Barely spoke to anyone and minded his own business.

-Weird he somehow ended up becoming acquainted with you since he practically lived by "EAT. SLEEP. GAME. REPEAT" and was perfectly fine with that and no one else. (Except for maybe Jeremiah, who was his childhood friend?...acquaintance? He's not sure either)

-It all started when you sat next to him in class. You gave up one of the front seats for your friend with bad eyesight and took something at the back since it was full, which ended up being right next to him. It wasn't bad, to say the least. The silence that followed after you nodded each other a greeting was peaceful. You never cared much for attention or talking to people unless necessary... or you were close enough to info dump, so this was nice.

-He acknowledged your existence and thought you were cool.... then he ended up unintentionally keeping track of your mannerisms, from the way you brushed back your hair to the sounds of doodling on your notebook (which may have lulled him to sleep a few times). He was intrigued and kept watching, masking it with his folded hands on the desk, or quickly shutting his eyelids whenever you felt his gaze and turned towards him.

-Only managed to properly talk to each other once you two got assigned for a paired project, then learned that you two have a common interest in video games. Which led to game exchanges and eventual online matches as a team.

Zayne

-Quiet nerd who sat up front and never had time for BS or anything really.

-People were secretly scared of his icy nature.

-Every girl was after him because he was cool and... face card never declined. He absolutely hated the attention.

-Always in a blazer, no matter the temperature and his hair was perfectly neat all the time.

-Did Biology, Physics, Chemistry, Pure Math and Accounting - everyone's worst nightmare.

-You ended up sitting next to him up front because the teacher thought you were talking to your friend, so she just moved you next to him as if you were a delinquent who could be changed. You didn't argue since there'd be no point to, so you just accepted it and moved your stuff to the desk next to him. After a nodded greeting, you just sat down, checking your notes whilst waiting for lunchbreak.

-He didn't think much of you other than that you were attractive and noisy according to teacher, so he didn't bother.... was really surprised when he saw you open up your notes to find it incredibly neat and detailed.

-You two don't end up interacting much, even though you really would like to. It's just that you couldn't find an opening.

-One day, you did end up finding it - he was chomping on a literal bar of chocolate before class could start. To say you weren't taken aback would be an absolute lie. He whips his head back at your shaky form when he hears suppressed giggles to which you quickly recovered and apologized, saying that it was cute. His ears got red.... visibly red. He never ate chocolate around you again until you offered him some of your favorite, and you ended up bonding on sweets.

-Warms up to you and become friends(?), walks you to classes discussing schoolwork with you and branching off into study sessions.

-As he got comfortable with you and got to know you better, he realized that your slight upbeat energy is really nice, so he kept you around.

Rafayel

-Artist at the back of class who'd rather be anywhere but at school but goes since well... you have to.

-Always sketching when not actually putting effort into notes - which needs color and hand lettered headings.

-Had the best hair and customized uniform to his taste with pins and so on.

-Hated when anyone stared for too long at his sketchbook.

-Definitely took Technical Drawing and got bored but still kept doing it because he could draw. His favorite was English due to the creative and literary aspects.

-Excellent swimmer but never did it as a sport, preferred wandering instead.

-Has everyone's attention on him. Girls, guys, others... you name it, but he hated interacting with people too much - he is a social recluse after all.

-Likewise you didn't like attention at the front of the class so you sat in the back, in front of him and next to the window. You were getting stuff from your bag behind you, and then you noticed him sketching. As if in a trance, you rested your head on the back of your chair and continued watching the pencil strokes grazing against the paper. Snapping back to reality with a flick to the forehead from the artist, he looked rather displeased, so you apologized and complimented his technique before turning back around.

-Taken aback, he didn't expect you to know anything about art and thought you were going to bat your eyelashes at him and attempt to win his attention over by half-heartedly asking to see more of his sketchbook. Hesitantly, he taps on your shoulder, asking if you drew as well, to which you gave a soft nod. He considers getting your number and just asks to see your work at break instead.

-Never left your side ever since, not that you minded or anything. He was a good friend who was always there for you. You would never ask for anything else.

-On the other hand.... He. Was. Fucked. After the little while, you two had become friends, he couldn't help but find you as his muse (he had a crush on you but would never admit that)

Sylus

-"Bad boy" loner

-Everyone thought he was a delinquent because of his ear piercings and death glare. Not to mention the way his attire was: unbuttoned shirt, loose tie, random jacket, and messy hair.

-Did MMA out of school. In school, he didn't get along with many and preferred being on his own.

-Did the business course and added physics as an extra subject.

-Was put next to you because the teacher thought he'd absorb your goodness and become a good kid.

-You weren't intimidated by him. In fact, you could match his glare. Band for band? No. Glare for glare.

-There was a time in which he took your ruler to smack someone with.... you shot him a nasty glare, and he put it back quietly and apologized.... maybe the teacher was right about the good vibes?

-there were mostly short interactions between you two. He grew closer once he noticed the way other boys in class treated you. It wasn't the absolute worst thing, but he could tell you were ticked off, so he stood by as a safety net. Your guard dog. He never understood them for their actions since you were decent according to his standards.

-There was a shift after a while. People avoided you, which made little sense until sylus plopped down next to you, ah there's was your answer. You didn't mind, he was nice and pretty and tall- great, now you have a little crush.

-He could sense something was off about you. You were shy and never made eye contact with him. Oh? He sees it now.... and uses it to his full advantage. He can't tell when you're blushing despite hiding it well, but not well enough. He's officially your worst nightmare now with all the teasing. Good luck with that hun!

Caleb

-Popular kid who knows everyone to the point it's annoying.

-Played either soccer or basketball and did the thing where he lifted the front of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and flashed his abs, which made girls faint literally.

-Did similar subjects as Zayne except he swapped out accounting for Engineering, Graphics and Design.

-Was every teacher's favorite student. So neat and respectful, and he was perfect, if only they had another student like that. Y/n? Oh... yeah no

-Always with Gideon, occasionally meeting up with Zayne. Otherwise, he pesters you whilst your friend has heart eyes, and you aren't impressed in the slightest. He's too bright to the point that your eyelids might be burning off. You don't have the energy for this. You just want a nap.

-You never got the hype. His popularity pissed you off, not in a jealous way. It all just gave you a massive headache when you heard girls squealing. Very overstimulating when they cornered his table and knocked your stuff over whilst invading your space. Yes, you sat next to him in the middle of the class, sadly, and are now cornered.

-poking him on the side, you nonchalantly tell him to tell his fangirls to leave and then plop your head down due to your massive migraine. His expression turns from a sweatdrop to slight concern when he clears the area and asks if you're okay. You can't even hate your academic rival. He's too nice.... and cute... maybe you do get the hype... slightly.

-Irrespective of rivalry, you two hold a certain respect for each other. Maybe it's a little more than respect. You push each other to do your best and end up tying most of the time. Maybe you two are more in sync than you thought.

[lostlikesaebyeok]

HIIII!!!!!!!!! 😠😠😠😠 heeheh chronically online reader x 'the one who doesn't even use youtube' se-mi...

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝒔𝒆-𝒎𝒊 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

♡･ﾟ₊ title: your chronically offline girlfriend (she actually lives under a rock)

♡･ﾟ₊ pairing: chronically online!fem!reader x chronically offline!se-mi

♡･ﾟ₊ au: college au, media studies majors, opposites attract, slow burn to soft dating

♡･ﾟ₊ genre: sapphic slice of life, jokes, soft romance, emotionally repressed girls in love

♡･ﾟ₊ warnings: light cursing, academic trauma, mentions of tiktok discourse, brainrot

♡･ﾟ₊ summary: you're chronically online, she does all of her assignments on pen and paper without picking up her phone once. you watch edits of park gyu-young into the early hours of the mornings, she thinks youtube is just for music videos. and somehow, both end up falling in love anyways!!

you really don’t expect her to like you.

in fact, the first time you meet, she looks at you like you just told her you collect dead bodies or that you're a discord moderator. you’re sitting in the back of your media studies class, laptop stickers flashing like a gay bat signal: chappell roan, taylor swift, marceline and princess bubblegum.

she doesn’t have a laptop, doesn’t even have a phone in sight. she writes everything down. with a pen. in a notebook. like some medieval scribe.

you don’t notice her at first. she’s quiet when she wants to be. but then the professor makes some offhand joke about how people in your generation have the worst attention spans and can’t even sit through a tiktok video that's longer than 30 seconds and you start laughing everyone turns to look. including her, se-mi.

you don’t know her name yet, but you notice her because she doesn't laugh. she doesn't smile. she just looks at you for a second too long, head tilted, like you’re an anomaly. you find out her name the next week, during group assignments. your professor pairs you up. you glance sideways at her, trying to gauge if she’s pissed.

“hi,” you say. “i’m–”

“i know,” she says. “you answer too many questions in class.”

you pause.

“not in a bad way,” she adds, like that’ll fix it. “just. noted.”

you’re already kind of obsessed with her. she doesn’t use social media, not even youtube. you ask her once. maybe a little too eager, like you’re trying to speedrun friendship.

“do you have insta?”

“no.”

“tumblr?”

“no.”

“tiktok?”

“that one’s the worst.”

“youtube?”

“i’ve seen music videos, in cafes.”

you stare at her. “se-mi,” you say, voice serious. “how do you learn anything?”

she shrugs. “books.”

you nearly pass out because wtf 💔

weeks go by. you become a permanent fixture in each other’s lives, slowly, like moss growing between stones. she’s blunt and bold. not mean, but she doesn’t pad things in soft language. she doesn’t flirt like you do, she doesn’t understand that “💀” means you're laughing and not actually and not in danger (she almost called the cops when you sent it the first time), she doesn't give strong eye contact. she says things like “you’re not funny, but you’re smart” and “you always smell like gum. is that intentional?”

she touches your arm when you’re stressed. she lets you monologue about some new discourse for ten minutes straight and only interrupts to say, “is this a real issue or just something people are mad about for attention?”

she never posts a single photo of you, but she notices when you change your bio. when you cut your hair, when you leave her a message saying “moonbeam ice cream 😛😛” in her notebook.

you see the corner poking out weeks later. you take her to your favourite cafe. it’s queer-owned and full of pride flags and playlists that jump from mitski to charli xcx in one breath.

you tell her about your online friends and you swear it's almost as if you're talking to a brick wall somtimes. you talk to her about tumblr and how people that still use youtube shorts need to be publicly hung, about people who fake mental illness for attention and girls who write the most angsty, best sapphic fanfiction you will ever read in your life under usernames like namgyuscumstain.

she listens, patiently. she asks questions like “okay, so what’s a ship war?” and “why is everyone's username named after their favourite character and some strange bodily fluid?”

you say, “you’re seriously the only person i know who isn't chronically online.”

she says, “you’re seriously the only person i know who never shuts up.”

you grin. “you like that about me.”

“no comment.”

the first time she kisses you, you’ve just finished watching bottoms.

she pretends not to like it, and she calls it “fucking stupid and unrealistic as fuck.”

but then she says, “fine, i like the way isabel looks at josie.”

you’re curled up on her bed, shoulder to shoulder, still laughing about the movie. you say, “that’s the point, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. we’re all stupid, gay people have the strangest ways of flirting.”

she doesn’t respond, not with words. she kisses you slow. rough at first, like she’s never done it softly before, like she’s had to fight to want things. you make a stupid noise into her mouth, breath catching and she pulls back an inch.

“what?”

you whisper, “i feel like we're in a fanfic right now.”

she sighs. “you’re fucking exhausting.”

but she kisses you again.

you start dating without talking about it, you don't soft launch it, or post it on every single social media account you have. you just post a photo of you and se-mi holding hands on tumblr for your online friends to see. your friends knew it was gonna happen anyways but they still go crazy, and se-mi never sees it.

but she keeps bringing you your favourite snacks and she keeps letting you ramble about ao3, she also defends you when you start crying frustratedly over how people were flaming you on tiktok for shipping byler but yet they were posting ai generated photos of mike and el getting married 💔💔

once, you show her a photo of her that you edited, and she actually laughs. like, a real one:

“oh my god?” you say, stunned. “did you just laugh?”

“yesss,” she says, reaching over to tug your hoodie strings. “you’re so weird. i like it.”

you beam. “se-mi. that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

she kisses your cheek. “then your standards are low.”

soon enough she starts saying 'sybau 💔' whenever you send her stupid photos of herself and she teaches you how to be able to read a book without constantly checking your phone.

you send her this:

and she responds in full sentences, extremely confused of course, but at least she's responding properly whereas before she thought just replying to you with "🤣🤔" was acceptable. you break down queer theories in every movie and show you watch and she listens with the same attentiveness she gives to fire drills and earthquake warnings.

she’s strong around strong people. never flinches, but with you when you cry, when you spiral, when you get too soft to stand up straight, she’s gentle. she rubs your back in slow circles. holds your hand without asking. says “hey, idiot. it's only me”.

you fall in love FAST. and one night, you’re in her apartment, curled up together on the floor because the fan broke and the floor’s cooler than the bed. you’re scrolling through your phone, showing her stuff she doesn’t understand. you look up and she’s just watching you.

you look at her, lost. “what?”

she shrugs. “you always look so... alive when you talk about things you love.”

you laugh. “that’s called being annoying.”

“no,” she says. “it’s called being you.”

you look at her for a long second.

“can i post that?” you whisper.

she groans and shoves a pillow at your face.

you never expected her to like you, but she does. quietly and strong, in her own way without needing anyone else to see. you, on the other hand, post every time she says something or does something for you on tumblr. you love showing her off. you read your posts aloud to her sometimes, she rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

and you think: god. i hope the internet never touches her. but i hope she never lets me go.

thank u for reading, angel ♡

never in my life did i think i would reference benson boone in my fanfic help 🪰

♡ tags: @saeshairtie @eunchacha @ilovesawbyeokandjjmaybank @gg0mezz @saphicsaturn @gyuyoungg @lyzem @janegrapefruitttt @reynadeluniverso @bitchesallonmydih @laurenkenss @bleedingwhiteroses222 @maevelovessae @067supremacy

♡ divider creds: @dawniebun

[greenxgloss]

Friends For Now? (Charlie Walker)

NSFW

summary: you and charlie have been friends for some time and he would help you do your homework sometimes, this time he caught you at the perfect time, struggling to finish your psych homework that happened to be about his favorite movies. while he was helping you he went in for a kiss and you allowed it to escalate.

warnings: unprotected sex, implications of stalking, mentions of female masturbation, fem!reader, use of Y/N, soft!dom!charlie, p in v, fingering, implied overstimulation

It's Tuesday night and your assignment is due tomorrow but you just can't get yourself to sit and focus on the Stab movies for this psych homework. "Watch Stab 2 and write a summary of the movie and a synopsis of the killers." you read aloud, hoping that it would help your answer click in your head. you scoffed and shoved your books over. for some reason you just couldn't focus on the movies and even after trying to cheat online you got nothing.

You heard a tap on the window and it was Charlie your best friend. "hey! need help?" he asked, opening the window. you quickly stood up and put on a shirt before he got in. "relax dude nothing I haven't seen before." he said, taking a deep breath as he gathered himself at the window. you giggled and sat back on your bed. "here just copy mine and change the wording around. the usual." he said throwing his notebook in front of you and zipping his bag back up. "thanks. I've been stumped for days." you told him as he joined you on the bed. "why didn't you just call me?" he asked. "ahh I don't know I just wanted to do this on my own. i always ask you for help." you told him as you copied down the answers. "no shame in asking for help." he said sheepishly, almost blushing.

sometimes you'd wonder if he'd ever watched you from your window. you knew that would be a crazy thing to accuse your friend of and also illegal but you didn't mind the idea. charlie is awfully pretty. he has big blue eyes but they weren't piercing, they were soft and laid gently on you every time. even before you both became friends and he would peer at you from across classrooms you didn't feel uncomfortable, you felt... admired, like he was watching in adoration. of course, it felt lustful but it also felt wholesome and full of love. still, you never pursued him that way. you felt as though you didn't have room for that kind of commitment in your life. you wanted to get your shit together first, to get the grades, the job and the money. then and only then would you have time to give someone your undivided. anyway you didn't mind his pretty eyes on you at night with your hand slipped under your lace, watching from the window as you pirspired and whined quietly to keep anyone in the house from hearing.

charlie snapped you out of it. "y/n?"

"uh.. i don't know it would just be nice to get it for myself." you told him as you continued writing. "I appreciate it don't get me wrong but its not like you're gonna be able to help with tests and exams." you giggled. he smiled. "no I know I just, want you to know Im here you know? you can always call." he said, moving over to sit next to you and shove your shoulder. you nodded and let the comfortable silent engulf you and you looked at each other in the same admiration you felt when you'd spot him watching you in class.

he looked down at his hand and back up at you as he slowly put it on your thigh waiting for your approval at which point you lightly put your hand on his and inched it up to your heat. "charlie." you started, "do you ever watch me from the window?" you asked him as your face heated up and you let him press his fingers to your clothed clit. he let out an exhale. "mhm." letting his eyebrows furrow as he thought about all the times he wanted to crawl through the window into your bed and make you cum and scream his name. "you watch me touch myself?" you whispered, a quiet whine following as he pressed firmly. "you knew I was. don't pretend you don't know I watched you arch and say my name and beg for me." he said, finally getting on top of you and kissing your neck. you'd been kissed but you'd never been touched this way and it made you ache for him. you had to bite your lip a little harder while his hands roamed you freely you felt your body cling to his. "fuck charlie." you moaned. "just like that." he smirked, grinding his hips between yours, feeling the tent pitch in his own jeans.

he inched your shorts off. "you're so beautiful baby." he said, scanning you over then kissing you, placing his hands on your tits and lightly groping you causing you to moan into his mouth. "you gotta stay quiet if you wanna keep going." he pulled away and whispered, keeping eye contact as he slipped in two fingers causing your mouth to gape. "you're so good to me charlie fuck it feels so good." you continued to whine and melt into his gentle touch. "yeah? tell me how good it feels baby." he hummed watching you squirm and buck your hips at his fingers, desperately wanting him to reach deeper. "I need you so bad. I want you to fuck me." you told him and felt him curl his fingers up making you grip his arms and moan into his mouth. you wanted to touch him so you reached for his jeans and he let you unbutton them. his cock popped out hitting him on the stomach and you quietly gasped. "holy shit Charlie it's so big." you watched the length just keep going. you took his shirt off as he pulled his fingers out of your throbbing cunt causing you to gasp softly.

you sat back and watched him. you deeply thought he was beautiful. "you're so sexy charlie." you told him as you reached out and caressed his chest then pushed him down and got on top of him. you tossed your shirt off as you straddled him. "speak for yourself." he dragged his hands from your waist to your ass as you adjusted yourself and slowly slipped his length into your tight wet pussy, one hand on his chest and the other wrapped around his cock. "oh fuck fuck fuck" you moaned and you began bouncing but of course, charlie couldn't hold his patience and began rocking his hips up into you both of you now quietly whimpering and whining in sync.

the room was sweaty and the light was dim as your moans filled the walls along with the sound of your skin smacking each others. the sound only made you more and more wet. soon you felt your core untangle and you slowly reached your climax. "fuck I'm cumming I'm cumming." you almost yelled and he quickly covered your mouth as his thrusts became sloppy. charlie fell apart at the same pace as you did, both of you finishing in sync. a rare occurrence for him who has had sex before.

you fought to catch your breath as you fell beside him, your shoulders touching. "that was..." Charlie trailed out. "my first time." you interrupted causing him to jump up. "YOUR FIRST TIME?" he whisper yelled, looking right into your eyes with pure lust. you could swear his pupils were hearts. "yeah? isn't it obvious?" you said, furrowing your eyebrows. "absolutely. I've never finished at the same time as the other person.. that might have been the best sex I've ever had.." he said, laying back down and holding you to his chest. you giggled quietly as you snuggled into him. "I mean not that I have anyone to compare it to other than my own hands but you did amazing." you whispered as you turned over to let him spoon you. "oh no we aren't done." he said, whipping up and throwing your legs apart, startling you.

needless to say, the two of you went on and on for hours and you had no complaints when you were falling asleep in psych class next to him while he laughed at you.

[frozenmxngo]

✧*̥˚ In Between the Lines | Choi Beomgyu *̥˚✧

✧ beomgyu x selective mutism fem!reader ✧ summary: y/n, a university student with selective mutism, finding solace in solitude. when beomgyu, a curious music student, starts noticing her, their paths cross, and he learns to navigate her silence. ✧ warnings: panic attacks, social anxiety, mute!reader, swearing, angst, verbal abuse, eventual smut, virgin!reader, slow burn?, trauma, fluff, a bit of self-hatred (let me know if i missed anything! i’ll add more tags for each part as needed) ✧ part one, word count 14k

✧ an: helloo, honestly i wanted to use this fic to spread awareness for selective mutism as a lot of people are unaware of it, i hope this can help people be more understanding and patient with others. ty, i hope you enjoy the read!

MASTERLIST next »

The library was quiet, the hum of the air conditioning blending with the faint rustle of pages and the soft clack of keyboards. Y/N sat at a small table in a tucked-away corner, surrounded by open books and notes. It was her safe haven, away from the chaos of campus life. Shelves upon shelves of books surrounded her like a fortress, muffling the outside world. 

Large bay windows let sunlight pour in, casting a warm glow over the silent corner of the library. Her notebook lay open on the table, half-filled with neat, tiny sketches of animals—an owl perched on a branch, a cat curled up asleep, a bunny mid-hop.

She didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the notes sprawled across her desk. With a big test looming next week, her attention was locked on the video playing softly through her headphones. Her pen hovered above the page, but instead of jotting down key points, she found herself sketching a tiny mouse in the notebook’s margin.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, was anything but quiet as he weaved through the aisles, earbuds in, barely paying attention to where he was going. He wasn’t reckless, just distracted, his focus split between the music blaring in his ears and his search for a textbook he desperately needed for his next assignment. He wasn’t much of a library person—too quiet, too stuffy—but today, he was desperate. 

Beomgyu had been wandering the library for what felt like hours, his eyes scanning the shelves with no success. The textbook he needed was nowhere to be found. He checked the library’s online system twice already, double-checking the section he was once in before, but it still wasn’t showing up. In reality, though, it had only been half an hour.

A sense of helplessness started to creep in. He wasn’t used to asking for help. He liked figuring things out on his own, but right now, he was at a dead end.

Frustrated, he let out a sigh and dragged his hand through his hair, turning to look at the rows of books around him. That’s when he saw her—sitting at a table in a quiet corner, her head bent low as she scribbled something in her notebook.

Beomgyu blinked for a moment, momentarily distracted by the scene. He hadn’t noticed her before, but there was something about her that drew his attention. Her focus seemed unshakable, and the way her pen moved across the page made him pause.

But then he realized something: the music blaring in his ears was so loud, that he could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone anything happening around him. He fumbled with the earbuds, awkwardly tugging them out of his ears with one hand, hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself. His music, still playing loudly, thumped through the air, and he quickly scrambled to turn it off.

He winced, realizing just how distracted he had been by the music. He probably looked ridiculous.

After a brief moment of awkwardness, he gathered himself. “Excuse me,” Beomgyu said, taking a few strides over to the girl. 

Y/N didn’t look up at first. Her headphones were on, but the volume wasn’t high enough to block out the world entirely. She’d grown used to the assumption that no one would ask her for help. It was rare.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, more self-conscious now. “Excuse me,” he tried again, his voice quieter this time, trying to avoid sounding out of place. He took a few more steps toward her, his voice still hesitant, though more intentional this time. “I’m looking for a Music Theory book. Do you know where it is? Or, um, any books on music?”

Y/N’s pen paused mid-stroke. She didn’t look up immediately, as though she were processing his words. Her fingers hovered over the notebook for a moment, before gently putting the pen down.

Beomgyu shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a strange tension knotting in his stomach. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, especially not when asking for help. Normally, he was the type to speak his mind, loud and clear, without a second thought. But something about the silent library and her focused, unbothered presence made him second-guess himself.

Why was he suddenly so awkward? He'd approached strangers for help plenty of times before. Was it the stillness of the library? Or maybe it was the way she was taking her time, processing everything so calmly like she was in no rush to answer him. It felt different than usual, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

When she finally did glance up at him, a faint flush spread across her cheeks. Recognition flickered in her mind—he was in her lecture, always a bit too loud, usually with his friends, his voice always cutting through the room. The sudden focus on her made her feel small, as though she were being pulled out of her quiet world. She hesitated, her eyes flickering between him and her notebook, trying to figure out how to navigate this. Her mind raced, knowing she couldn’t react the way others might, and for a brief moment, the silence between them felt deafening.

“Uh, I took a photo of the section where it’s supposed to be, but... I swear the section must’ve been moved,” Beomgyu said, his voice tinged with discomfort as the silence stretched on. He pulled his phone from his pocket and awkwardly shoved it in front of her face.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to his phone screen, her eyes scanning the library catalog photo. She quickly noticed the error—it was mislabeled, and she immediately knew where the books had been relocated. The music books had once been in the section he showed her, but now they’d been moved to the history section; the two categories had swapped. She knew this simply from the countless hours she’d spent in the library.

Her eyes darted briefly back to his face before she stood up, her movements slow but deliberate. She gave him a small, wordless nod, avoiding his gaze as she stepped past him. Without a word, she made her way toward the section where the history books used to be. 

Beomgyu fell into step beside her, his hands buried in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say. The silence was starting to feel a little too heavy, so he took a deep breath, deciding to break it.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” he asked, hoping to make the situation a little less awkward. “I mean, it’s pretty quiet. A good place to focus, right?”

Y/N’s eyes flickered briefly toward him before she quickly looked away, focusing ahead as she walked. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, and now, with Beomgyu walking beside her, she felt the weight of every step. Her fingers twitched, lightly fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as she tried to calm the nervous energy building up.

Beomgyu noticed her fidgeting and quickly tried to back off, his voice quieter this time. “Sorry, I guess I’m just rambling,” he said, chuckling lightly. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed for not picking up on the cues that maybe she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

Y/N’s eyes darted toward him, just for a moment, before she looked away quickly. She was still unsure of how to respond but decided it was easier to just let the silence sit. It was what she was most comfortable with.

Beomgyu glanced at her, studying her subtle movements. She wasn’t giving much away, but something about her quiet presence made him want to keep trying. He had a knack for talking to people—usually. So why did it feel so different now?

“I’m Beomgyu, by the way,” he added after a beat, his voice soft enough to match the library’s quiet atmosphere. “Not that, you know, you were dying to know or anything. Just thought I’d introduce myself.”

Y/N’s grip on her sleeve tightened slightly, her pace steady but her mind racing. She didn’t dare meet his eyes again, unsure if acknowledging him would invite more conversation or make things more awkward. She gave him a slight nod, not even sure if he had caught it or not. 

They turned a corner, the rows of books stretching ahead of them like endless possibilities. Beomgyu’s gaze flicked between her and the shelves as he tried to gauge whether she was annoyed, shy, or just indifferent. He wasn’t used to feeling this uncertain.

As they approached the section where the music books had been relocated, Y/N slowed her steps. She hesitated, briefly scanning the spines of the books before pointing to a specific shelf. Her small gesture was precise, her hand lingering just long enough to guide him.

Beomgyu followed her gaze, then backtracked to where her finger had pointed. “Oh, here it is! You’re a lifesaver,” he said with genuine relief, pulling the textbook off the shelf.

Y/N gave a faint nod, her eyes fixed on the floor as she took a small step back, giving him space.

“Do you, uh, study here often?” Beomgyu asked, trying to keep the conversation alive. “I mean, you seem to know this place like the back of your hand.”

Y/N’s face flushed deeper as she glanced up at him, their eyes meeting for the briefest moment. She gave a small nod before quickly looking away, her gaze flitting to the books on the shelf—anywhere but his face.

Beomgyu tilted his head slightly, curiosity sparking in his expression. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. She hadn’t spoken a single word to him. In all his life, he’d never had an interaction quite like this. Sure, he’d met shy people before, but even then, he’d always managed to get at least a word or two out of them.

“Oh,” he said, his voice softening as understanding dawned. “That’s pretty cool. No wonder you knew exactly where to go.”

He let out a light chuckle, his usual confidence tempered by the realization that this wasn’t the time for his typical charm. “Really, though, thanks. I’d probably be pacing these aisles for the next hour if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Y/N met his gaze for just a second before offering a small, shy smile, her fingers lightly brushing the hem of her sleeve.

Beomgyu shifted the book in his hands, unsure if he should say more or let the silence linger. For someone who thrived on conversations and easy banter, this felt foreign—yet oddly intriguing. There was something about her that pulled him in, even without words.

He glanced at her again, watching as she took a half step back, her eyes flickering to the shelves as if searching for an exit. Not wanting to push too far, he cleared his throat, offering a tentative smile.

“So… Do you work here or something? Or are you just, like, the unofficial library expert?” he asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Y/N hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to respond but didn’t. Instead, she just shook her head, her small smile returning for a brief moment before she looked down at her shoes.

Beomgyu nodded, not sure what else to say but also reluctant to let her slip away just yet. “Well, you definitely saved me. I owe you one. Maybe… I can return the favor someday?”

Her head tilted slightly at his words, and though she didn’t respond, her expression softened, as if the offer had caught her off guard in a good way.

Before he could overthink it, Beomgyu laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or, you know, I’ll just try not to get lost next time.” He gestured to the book. “Anyway, thanks again. Seriously.”

Y/N gave a small nod and took a step back toward her corner of the library, her movements quiet but deliberate. Beomgyu watched her retreat, his mind already racing with curiosity about the girl who had barely said anything but somehow left an impression.

As he turned to leave, his footsteps slowing, he found himself glancing over his shoulder, wondering if she’d look back at him.

And she did. The moment his back was turned, Y/N raised her eyes, her gaze following him as he walked away. There was a flicker of something in her expression—curiosity, maybe, or a faint trace of amusement—but when Beomgyu didn’t turn again, she let out a hushed breath and returned to her seat.

The library was Y/N’s sanctuary—a place where she could exist quietly, without the weight of expectations pressing down on her. But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the warm glow of the street lights flickered on, she found herself heading back home, her silent retreat fading behind her.

Home was a different kind of quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful stillness of the library but a silence filled with tension, unspoken words, and carefully maintained boundaries.

Y/N slipped through the front door, her movements silent and deliberate as she kicked off her shoes. Her dad was in the living room, the soft murmur of the TV playing a news channel filling the space.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted, glancing up briefly. He was one of the few people she could speak to comfortably, but even then, her words were rare. She offered a small smile in response, her eyes darting toward the stairs.

Her stepmother’s voice echoed sharply from the kitchen, tinged with irritation. “You’re late again. Dinner’s been on the table for an hour.” She emerged into the living room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Y/N froze, unsure how to respond. She gave a small, dismissive nod toward her bag, a quiet way of saying she’d been at school, but her gaze never lifted. The floor seemed safer to focus on.

“Figures,” Her stepmother muttered, the frustration in her tone clear. “You always lose track of time, don’t you?”

Y/N didn’t respond. She simply slid past her stepmother, the familiar weight of tension hanging in the air. She ascended the stairs to her room, the soft click of the door closing behind her bringing a wave of relief. The noise and expectations of the house faded away.

Her room, a quiet refuge, was exactly as she’d left it—shelves lined with books and small trinkets, her desk cluttered with notebooks and unfinished sketches. She sank into her chair, feeling the familiar warmth of the space wrap around her like a soft blanket. With a contented sigh, she grabbed the remote and flicked on her favorite drama, the low hum of the small TV filling the silence. As she began to sketch, the pencil moved instinctively across the paper, her fingers dancing to the rhythm of the drawing. She found herself humming softly, her lips curving into a smile as she let the characters on the screen distract her for a while. In this room, it was easy to forget the outside world. Here, she could giggle, whisper to herself, and just be—no pressure, no expectations.

A few days later, Beomgyu sat in the lecture hall, his focus flickering between the professor and the scribbled notes in front of him. His mind kept wandering back to Y/N, the girl who had quietly helped him in the library. The memory of her sketching in her notebook, so immersed in her own world, stuck with him. It felt odd that he hadn’t really noticed her before, considering how often they must have been in the same place. He couldn’t figure out why, but now, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He had seen her once or twice in the halls before, but it was always fleeting—a brief glimpse as she walked past, her presence never lingering in his mind. It was only now, as he glanced around the lecture hall, that he realized she was sitting in the same class. Her name had never crossed his mind, and he certainly hadn’t noticed her before, but there she was, standing up and packing her bag as the lecture ended.

A strange realization hit him, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She was so calm, moving with that quiet grace he’d seen before. His heart raced a little. This was his chance—he had to talk to her. He had to know her name.

Without thinking, he stood up quickly, trying to weave his way through the sea of students heading for the door. His eyes stayed fixed on her, determined not to lose sight of her this time. When he finally opened his mouth, he called out to her, his voice cutting through the chatter in the room. “Hey!”

Just as he was about to push through the crowd to catch up, he felt a hand grab his arm. It was Taehyun, his friend’s grip firm as he pulled Beomgyu’s attention away.

“Beomgyu, wait up!” Taehyun’s voice was a mix of impatience and excitement. “I need to ask you something before you head out.”

Beomgyu’s gaze flickered from Y/N, who was making her way toward the door, to Taehyun. His heart sank as he realized he’d lost his chance to talk to her.

"Ah, come on, I’ll only be a minute," Taehyun continued, unaware of Beomgyu’s internal struggle.

Beomgyu hesitated, torn, but Taehyun was already steering him away. He shot one last glance at the door where Y/N had just disappeared, frustration bubbling up inside him. He hadn’t even gotten close enough to say anything.

Across the room, Y/N had heard Beomgyu call out to her, his voice cutting through the chatter like a sudden unexpected burst of noise. Her eyes flickered back toward him for a brief moment, catching the earnestness in his expression, before quickly looking away. The tension in her chest flared—was he expecting her to speak? To respond? She wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Her anxiety gnawed at her, whispering doubts in her ear. She couldn’t disappoint him. The skin on her palms felt clammy, and her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. The tightness in her chest made it harder to breathe, her heart thudding faster than the noise of the students around her. With a quiet breath, she pushed herself forward, her steps quickening as she made her way to the exit, each one carrying her farther from the conversation she couldn’t bring herself to have.

Y/N stepped out of the lecture hall, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her chest. The bustling noise of students moving between classes surrounded her, but it all felt distant—muted like she was underwater. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles pale, as she made her way across campus, her head lowered to avoid the curious glances of strangers.

Her mind replayed the moment Beomgyu’s voice cut through the crowd, his tone almost hopeful. She’d seen the way he looked at her like he was trying to bridge some unspoken gap. And she’d ignored him.

Her heart clenched, the guilt nagging at her. Why didn’t I just stop? The question circled in her mind, but her anxiety offered no answers—just a familiar wave of self-doubt. She had felt so sure in that moment that she couldn’t face him, but now the decision left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Without a clear destination, Y/N wandered toward the quieter part of campus. A shaded bench under a tree caught her attention, and she sank onto it, letting out a shaky sigh. Her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag. The crisp air felt sharp against her flushed cheeks, but it did little to calm the storm inside her. Her guilt, no longer just a whisper, grew louder with each passing second, her thoughts pulling her in circles. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the worn fabric of the strap of her bag.

Why couldn’t she stop? Why couldn’t she just turn around, meet his eyes, and… do something? Anything? She’d seen the look on Beomgyu’s face—earnest, almost hopeful—and yet she’d walked away. Her chest tightened, a familiar ache spreading through her ribs as her mind replayed the moment over and over, each time adding more weight to the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Her eyes fell to her lap, where her fingers now tugged at the hem of her sleeve. She wanted to cry, but no tears came—just the dull, suffocating heaviness of disappointment in herself. She pressed her lips into a thin line, her gaze drifting to the ground as students passed by, their chatter blending into a dull hum around her.

It wasn’t like Beomgyu had done anything wrong. He wasn’t pushy or rude—just curious. Kind, even. She groaned softly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. A part of her wanted to go back, to find him and explain—though she wasn’t sure how to do that without using words. But another part of her—the louder part—convinced her it was better this way. She couldn’t let him down if she kept her distance.

The minutes ticked by, and Y/N stayed rooted to the bench, the world around her moving while she remained still.

A soft vibration in her pocket broke through Y/N’s spiraling thoughts. She pulled out her phone, blinking at the bright screen.

Jiwon: Hey, where are you? Are we still on for our study session??

Y/N’s heart sank, the weight of guilt pressing down on her chest. She’d completely forgotten. Her mind had been too preoccupied, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions she couldn’t seem to steady. The memory of Beomgyu’s voice calling out to her, the fleeting glance they’d shared, and the way she’d rushed out lingered, replaying in her mind like a broken record.

She stared at Jiwon’s message for a long moment, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Y/N: I’m so sorry! I forgot. I’ll be there soon!

Her thumb hovered over the send button, hesitation gripping her. A small part of her wanted to come up with an excuse, to avoid facing anyone right now. But Jiwon wasn’t just anyone. She was patient, understanding, and someone Y/N didn’t have to constantly explain herself to. If there was anyone she could lean on without judgment, it was Jiwon.

She sighed softly, pressing send. The message was delivered with a quiet whoosh, and Y/N slipped her phone back into her pocket. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she leaned back against the bench. The faint hum of campus life carried on around her. Students chatted as they walked by, their voices blending into a low murmur. It felt like the world was moving forward while she was stuck in place, weighed down by her thoughts.

“I need to get out of my head,” she whispered to herself, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the breeze.

Forcing herself to move, she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, her steps slow at first as she made her way across campus. The walk to the library gave her time to collect herself, though the heavy guilt still clung to her like a shadow. She replayed the moment in the lecture hall, questioning her reaction, wondering if Beomgyu had been disappointed or confused by her silence.

As she approached the library, the familiar sight of the towering building brought a small wave of comfort. Pushing the door open, Y/N stepped inside, her eyes scanning the rows of tables until she spotted Jiwon. Her friend was already settled near a window, her laptop open and a cup of coffee beside her. Jiwon glanced up, her face lighting up in a small smile when she saw Y/N.

“There you are,” Jiwon said warmly as Y/N approached. “I was starting to think you ditched me.”

Y/N shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she slipped into the chair across from Jiwon. She pulled out her notebook, the familiar action grounding her.

Sorry, she wrote quickly on the corner of the page before sliding it toward Jiwon.

Jiwon’s smile softened as she read the note. “Don’t worry about it. You okay?”

Y/N hesitated, her pen hovering over the paper. She wanted to say yes, to brush it off and pretend everything was fine. But Jiwon’s expectant gaze made her pause.

I had a rough day, she finally wrote, keeping the explanation short.

Jiwon nodded in understanding. “Well, if you need to talk—or write—I’m here.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread in her chest, the kind of comfort that came from being around someone who understood her without needing a thousand words.

She wrote back with a small smile.

Thanks

Jiwon reached for her coffee, taking a sip before changing the subject. “Okay, so, where should we start? I’ve got a million things to catch up on, and I could definitely use your help.”

As Jiwon launched into a conversation about their upcoming assignments, Y/N found herself relaxing, the tension from earlier slowly easing. For now, she let herself focus on the steady rhythm of studying and the quiet companionship of her friend.

After an hour of focused studying, Jiwon glanced up from her laptop, noticing that Y/N had grown quiet again, her usual energy a little more subdued. The silence between them had stretched longer than usual, and despite her attempts to distract herself with assignments, Jiwon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“You know,” Jiwon said, breaking the stillness, “I think it’s time for a snack. What do you say? The vending machine’s calling our names.”

Y/N looked up, eyes wide, as if caught off guard by the suggestion. She hadn’t said much since they’d settled in, and though Jiwon respected her space, she couldn’t help but worry.

Y/N hesitated, her pen still tapping gently against the notebook. Jiwon noticed the small details—the way her friend’s gaze flickered downward, avoiding her eyes.

“Come on,” Jiwon coaxed with a soft smile. “A little break will do us both good.”

Y/N gave a small nod, and together, they made their way to the vending machines, the sound of their footsteps the only noise in the quiet space. 

As they reached the vending machines, Jiwon casually scanned the selection, but her eyes kept darting back to Y/N, sensing the weight of her silence. 

“So,” Jiwon began, her voice light but tinged with concern, “what’s going on? You’ve been awfully quiet today, and I can tell something’s on your mind.”

Y/N glanced around the hall, her gaze flickering nervously before meeting Jiwon’s. “I…” she whispered softly, her words barely audible. “I’ll tell you when we get back to the table.” Her cheeks flushed as she grabbed a packet of cookies from the vending machine.

Y/N quickly returned to the table, her heart thudding in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about what she was about to say, even though Jiwon would never judge her. Her fingers tightened around the packet of cookies as she set it down, her gaze briefly meeting Jiwon’s expectant eyes.

Jiwon settled back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest, waiting patiently. She’d always given Y/N space when needed, but today, something felt different. She could tell her friend was carrying something heavy.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes glancing down at her notebook as she pulled it closer. The familiar act of writing helped her focus, and she quickly scribbled the words that had been bothering her.

I feel guilty for avoiding someone. I don’t know how to fix it.

She pushed the notebook toward Jiwon, her anxiety rising, hoping her friend would understand even though the words felt simple.

Jiwon didn’t immediately speak. She carefully read the note, her expression softening with understanding. After a long moment, she placed the notebook down and leaned forward, her voice quiet but filled with care.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jiwon said gently, meeting Y/N’s gaze. “Avoiding someone… it’s tough. But it’s also okay not to know what to do right away. You’re allowed to take your time to figure it out.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her heart easing a little at Jiwon’s comforting words.

Jiwon took a sip of her drink before speaking again, her tone playful but still full of understanding. “You know, I don’t think cookies are going to fix this, but it’s a good start. Want to talk more about it?”

Y/N chewed on her lip, feeling a bit of pressure to open up more. Maybe, just maybe, telling Jiwon a little more wouldn’t hurt.

Her mind was racing. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share, but something about Jiwon’s presence made her feel like it was safe to open up. After a long pause, she finally wrote again, her hand steadier now, but her heart still heavy.

It’s a boy from my lecture... He tried talking to me, but I got too nervous. I don’t know what to do.

She pushed the notebook toward Jiwon, her pulse quickening as the words hit the paper. It was the first time she was saying it out loud, even if it was just on paper.

Jiwon’s eyes widened as she read the note, and she looked up at Y/N with a soft, almost excited expression. “Wait, a boy from your lecture?” she repeated, her voice filled with surprise and a little bit of wonder.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks turning pink as she fidgeted with her hands.

Jiwon leaned forward, her eyes lighting up as if a whole new world had just opened up. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” She grinned widely. “You’ve gotta talk to him! He likes you, I’m sure of it.” Jiwon’s voice softened as she continued, “I mean, it’s totally normal to feel nervous, but he wouldn’t have tried talking to you if he wasn’t interested, right?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at Jiwon’s words, but the anxiety still lingered. Talking to him felt like a mountain she wasn’t sure she could climb.

“I don’t know if I can,” Y/N whispered, the feeling of self-doubt creeping back. She jotted down in the notebook once more.

What if I mess it up again?

Jiwon’s expression softened, her voice gentle but encouraging. “Hey, you don’t have to be perfect. Just talk to him when you’re ready. I want you to have fun with all this stuff, you know? Talk to boys, go on dates—just do all the girly things I’ve been dying for you to experience!” She paused, giving Y/N a playful look. “Besides, he’ll probably think you’re super cute the way you are.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little warmth spread through her chest at Jiwon’s support. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to take the first step. After all, Jiwon had a way of making things feel easier, even when they seemed impossible.

Y/N hesitated, her pen hovering over the notebook. She glanced at Jiwon, who waited patiently, her head tilted slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Y/N took a steadying breath before starting to write.

His name is Beomgyu. I met him in the library a few days ago. He needed help finding a book, and I helped him.

She slid the notebook toward Jiwon and sat back, chewing on her lip again as her friend read.

Jiwon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, so this isn’t just some random guy! You’ve already talked to him before?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded slightly, scribbling another note. Kind of. He talked. I pointed him to the book he needed. That’s it.

Jiwon’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “And what’s he like? What’s your impression of him so far?”

Y/N tapped her pen against the notebook for a moment before jotting down. He’s loud. That’s all I know.

Jiwon laughed softly, shaking her head. “Loud, huh? That’s kind of cute. So, why do you feel guilty about avoiding him? He doesn’t sound like the shy type—you think he noticed?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she wrote. I don’t know. Maybe? He tried talking to me, and I just froze.

Jiwon’s smile softened. “I get why you feel bad, but it’s okay, Y/N. You didn’t mean to ignore him. It’s not like you were trying to be rude.”

Y/N nodded, but her pen started moving again, her words spilling out onto the page. I just feel bad because… he seems like the type of person who’s good at talking to everyone, and I couldn’t even say anything back.

Jiwon’s expression turned thoughtful, her voice gentle. “Well, if he’s the kind of person who talks to everyone, I’m sure he’s not going to be upset about it. He probably understands that not everyone’s as outgoing as him.”

Y/N glanced down, a small part of her feeling reassured.

Jiwon tilted her head, her tone shifting to something more playful. “So, what are you going to do if you see him again? Maybe help him find another book?”

Y/N shook her head quickly, her cheeks heating up as she wrote. I’ll probably just hide.

“Y/N!” Jiwon gasped dramatically, though her grin showed she wasn’t actually upset. “Don’t hide! Come on, you already helped him once. If he talks to you again, just smile or wave. Baby steps, okay?”

Y/N hesitated but eventually nodded, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Jiwon’s encouragement felt comforting, even if the idea of facing Beomgyu again still made her stomach twist with nerves.

Jiwon leaned back in her chair, stirring her drink idly. “So… Beomgyu. What kind of loud are we talking about? Like, constantly talking over everyone loud, or just someone who naturally fills a room?”

Y/N hesitated, tapping her pen against the edge of her notebook before writing. He’s confident. Like he knows what to say, and doesn’t overthink it.

Jiwon tilted her head, her lips curving into a curious smile. “Confident, huh? That’s an interesting word to use. So, he’s not just loud—he actually knows how to carry himself?”

Y/N nodded slightly, her cheeks warming as she wrote again He’s the type of person people probably notice right away. I mean… not in a bad way.

Jiwon grinned, leaning forward. “And you noticed him. That says something.”

Y/N’s hand froze mid-air, her face heating up. She quickly scribbled. Only because he came up to me in the library! He needed help finding a book.

Jiwon laughed softly, her tone teasing but gentle. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop connecting dots. So, what happened after that? Did he say something that stuck with you?”

Y/N thought back to their brief encounter, her stomach fluttering as she remembered his bright smile. She shook her head and wrote. No, not really. He was just… nice. But when he talked, I felt like I didn’t know how to respond.

Jiwon softened at that, her teasing replaced by concern. “Y/N, that’s okay. You were caught off guard—that doesn’t mean you messed up or did anything wrong.”

Y/N pressed her lips together before writing. But what if I see him again?

Jiwon leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “If you see him again… like I said before, take baby steps. Just give him a smile, show him you’re not avoiding him. You don’t have to say anything—just a simple nod and that beautiful smile of yours.”

Y/N hesitated, her pen tapping lightly against the notebook. Jiwon was always so good at talking to boys, and Y/N trusted her advice… Not that she was trying to impress Beomgyu or anything.

Y/N nodded slowly, the tightness in her chest loosening ever so slightly.

“And honestly?” Jiwon added with a grin. “If he’s confident like you said, I bet he’ll find a way to talk to you again. Guys like that aren’t easily discouraged.”

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that crept onto her face, a soft laugh escaping as she looked down at her notebook.

Jiwon beamed at the sound, pleased to see her friend relaxing. “Alright, now that we’ve dissected your charming classmate, can we focus on our assignments? Unless you want to write me a whole essay about Beomgyu…”

Y/N shook her head quickly, her cheeks burning as she turned the page in her notebook. Jiwon laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it—for now.”

The two fell into an easy rhythm as they returned to their study session. But even as Y/N jotted down notes and worked through her assignments, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see Beomgyu again—and if she’d have the courage to do anything differently.

The next few days passed in a blur, each one blending into the next. Y/N kept herself busy with classes, studying, and working at the university café. It was a routine that helped her stay grounded, and she liked the quiet, easy tasks—stocking supplies, making drinks, and cleaning. Currently, she was on drink duty again, and she found comfort in the rhythm of it, even as her mind wandered.

Her back was to the café entrance when she heard a familiar voice, just a bit louder than necessary.

“Taehyun, I’m telling you, I need something to wake me up. Maybe an iced latte?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Beomgyu. She had heard that voice enough to recognize it, even without seeing him.

Trying to stay calm, Y/N kept her focus on the drinks she was preparing. She wasn’t ready to face him. She wasn’t even sure what she’d say, let alone if she could keep her anxiety from spilling out. Beomgyu and Taehyun were ordering, and she hoped—no, prayed—that they wouldn’t notice her.

Beomgyu’s voice rose, this time giving his order, “I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please.”

“One matcha frappé, and a caramel macchiato, coming right up!” Y/N’s coworker called out the order.

Beomgyu and Taehyun moved aside to wait for their drinks, talking casually, their laughter carrying through the small café. Y/N kept her back to them, eyes darting nervously between the drinks she was making and her coworker who, to her dismay, was too busy cashing out a group of customers to help.

Her heart was pounding now. She knew she’d have to hand the drinks to Beomgyu and Taehyun. There was no way around it. She couldn’t just hide forever. But she didn’t want them to look at her, not now.

Her hands trembled slightly as she prepared their drinks, praying they wouldn’t catch her eye. Her movements felt clumsy, each step taking longer than it should. As she finished the drinks, Y/N glanced at the counter, barely managing a quick, panicked glance at the pair. She kept her face turned away, her back still facing them.

Beomgyu and Taehyun were deep in conversation, and Y/N took the opportunity to push the drinks toward them as quickly as she could. But she wasn’t quick enough. As she glanced up, she found Beomgyu’s gaze meeting hers.

Beomgyu’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, and then his gaze dropped to her name tag. He smiled, a little surprised, before meeting her eyes again.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his tone casual but warm. “Y/N, right?” He glanced at her name tag again, as if confirming what he’d just read. "I didn’t realize you worked here."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. His smile was friendly, but the direct attention still sent a wave of heat to her cheeks. She nodded, her throat tightening, not sure what to say next.

Taehyun, noticing the moment, raised a brow as he looked between them, but said nothing, content to let Beomgyu lead the conversation.

Beomgyu waited for her to respond, his smile still in place, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Y/N’s heart raced, her mind spinning as she tried to recall what Jiwon had told her to do. Smile! That’s what she said, right? she thought, panicking slightly.

Forcing her lips into the smallest smile she could manage, Y/N quickly nodded in Beomgyu’s direction. It felt stiff and unnatural like her face wasn’t cooperating with the nerves flooding her body. She immediately looked down at the counter, hoping her awkwardness wouldn’t be too obvious.

Beomgyu, however, seemed to notice her discomfort. His smile softened, and he looked at her with a trace of curiosity, not at all bothered by her nervousness. He turned to Taehyun but lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze still on her.

“Our drinks look great,” Beomgyu commented, taking both cups and passing one to Taehyun. He looked back at Y/N, offering a quiet, “Thank you,” before turning to head toward a table with his friend.

As Y/N went back to the counter, she tried to focus on preparing the next drink, but her thoughts kept circling back to Beomgyu. Was that it? Was that all? Maybe he didn’t really want to talk to her, or perhaps he had only been polite because he noticed how awkward she was. She hadn't said a word, so it made sense that Beomgyu might’ve thought she wasn’t interested in talking.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she made the next drink, her mind racing. She hadn’t realized that Beomgyu had actually been trying to be kind to her, his smile soft, his words gentle, trying to make her feel at ease without pushing her. But to Y/N, it had felt like she’d somehow missed something important. The small part of her that had hoped for something more—maybe even just a longer conversation—started to feel foolish.

With a quiet sigh, she focused back on the task at hand. She had to remind herself that it was just a casual exchange, just like any other day at work. Nothing more to it. But the nervous fluttering in her chest didn’t go away, and as she handed off the next drinks to her coworker, she couldn’t help but steal a glance toward the table where Beomgyu and Taehyun had sat down. And then, just as quickly, she froze.

Beomgyu was staring at her.

No, wait—maybe it wasn’t me he was staring at, there’s a ton of people here, she thought. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced away, feeling a flush creep up her neck and cheeks. She couldn’t be sure, but it definitely felt like eyes were on her. She tried to shake off the feeling and focus back on her work, but the nervous flutter in her chest wouldn’t go away.

Her shift passed in a blur after that, the lingering buzz of unease settling in her stomach. By the time she stepped out of the café, the evening air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth still clinging to her face. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, letting the familiar rhythm of her walk to her car settle her thoughts.

By the time Y/N got home, the weight of the day pressed down on her—not from exhaustion, but from a restless energy that refused to settle. She slipped off her shoes at the door and made her way upstairs, the familiar quiet of her room wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

After setting her bag down, she collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling as her mind replayed the moment in the café.

He was staring at me… right?

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to customers looking her way—it came with the job—but this was different. This was Beomgyu. And the way her heart had reacted to him, the way her breath had caught in her throat, made it impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and grabbed a notebook from her nightstand. Instead of writing, she flipped to a fresh page, letting her pen glide across the paper in small, aimless doodles—a pair of mismatched socks, a tiny bear with round ears and stubby paws sitting beside a cup of coffee, and a star with a sleepy face.

Drawing always helped settle her nerves, but tonight, her thoughts kept drifting. To the way Beomgyu had said hi. The way he had left so casually, as if the whole moment had meant nothing.

Maybe it was nothing.

She tapped the pen against her lip, staring at the page. Then, without thinking, she sketched the messy outline of a person—shaggy hair, a hoodie, a slight tilt of the head.

Y/N blinked.

She closed the notebook a moment later, pressing her palms against the cover as though trying to erase the drawing.

Nope. Not thinking about this.

Grabbing her blanket, she curled up into a cocoon, burying her face into the fabric. Tomorrow, she’d forget about it. Beomgyu was just another customer.

She just wished her heart would believe it.

The quiet of her room settled in, the gentle hum of the outside world barely making it through the thin walls. For a few moments, it felt like the perfect escape. The world outside her room could wait.

But then, she heard the creak of the floorboard outside her door—heavy footsteps that didn’t belong to her dad.

Y/N’s chest tightened.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence. "Y/N," came the voice from the other side.

Her stepmom didn’t wait for an answer before pushing the door open.

"Don’t you think it’s time you stop with all this silent treatment?" She asked, her voice tight with the familiar frustration that seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow. "This whole ‘I’m too quiet to speak to anyone’ routine is getting old."

Y/N didn’t respond, her face still buried in the blanket. She knew what was coming, but she couldn’t bring herself to face it right now.

Her stepmom took a step further into the room, arms crossed over her chest. "You could’ve said something at breakfast this morning, but instead, you just sat there, barely even looking at me. I’m trying, but I’m getting tired of it."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, but she didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Not right now.

In her mind, Y/N silently disagreed. Her stepmom wasn’t trying at all. She never had. Not when Y/N was a child, when her silence was met with anger and frustration rather than understanding. Her stepmom had always used her quietness as a way to control her, to make her feel less, to force her to change in ways she wasn’t ready to. It had never been about helping; it had always been about power.

But Y/N couldn’t say any of this. Not now.

Her stepmom’s voice cut through the silence again, sharp as ever. "Maybe if you actually spoke up, you wouldn’t feel so isolated all the time. You wouldn’t have to hide away in your room."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to argue, to say it wasn’t that simple, but the words were stuck, trapped behind the knot in her throat.

Her stepmom waited for a response, but when none came, she sighed heavily. "You know, it’s not normal to shut people out like this. I’m trying to help you." The words were layered with frustration, but Y/N knew better. Her stepmom's so-called "help" had never been anything more than a way to force her into compliance.

Y/N didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her. She could feel the weight of the situation press down on her, the suffocating silence stretching on between them. Her stepmom was still standing there, waiting. But Y/N wasn’t going to give in. She never did.

"Don’t you think it’s time you grew up and spoke for yourself?" Her stepmom’s voice softened, but it was the kind of soft that felt manipulative, like it was meant to break her down, make her feel guilty. "I’m just trying to help you, Y/N. But you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be."

Y/N’s chest tightened. It was always like this. The same cycle, the same words, the same push to make her speak, to make her perform for her. She was so tired of it.

The silence that followed seemed to last forever.

With a sigh, Y/N finally sat up, the blanket slipping down to her waist. She didn’t meet her stepmom’s eyes, but she could feel her gaze on her, sharp and expectant.

The silence between them felt suffocating, pressing against Y/N’s chest, until the knot in her throat finally became too tight. She had to do something. But what?

Her stepmom’s voice broke through the silence again. "I’m not going to stand here all night, Y/N." The words dripped with frustration.

Y/N’s hands trembled beneath the blanket. She could feel the weight of her stepmom’s expectations, her anger, all of it crashing down on her. And yet, the words refused to come. The silence—her silence—was both her defense and her prison.

For a moment, Y/N almost considered speaking. Maybe, just maybe, saying something would make it stop. But she knew that wouldn’t work. It never did. Her stepmom never wanted to listen. She just wanted to force her to speak, to force her to be someone else.

The thoughts swirled in her mind, the tension in her chest growing heavier, until it felt like she might suffocate. She wanted to yell at her stepmom, to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, that she couldn’t just speak up because her body refused to cooperate. She wanted to say that she wasn’t choosing this silence, but the words never came.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, biting down on her lip to keep the flood of emotions inside. She tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like something was lodged in her throat, a thick, suffocating pressure that kept her from making a sound.

Her stepmom’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "Why can’t you just say something? Is it really that hard?"

Y/N flinched, her entire body tensing as if the question might break her. She wanted to scream, to shout that it was hard—that she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. But her throat remained tight, her voice locked away.

"I just want you to be normal!" Her stepmom’s voice cracked with anger, her words sharp and biting, as though the pressure of everything had finally erupted.

Her stepmom waited, the air thick with expectation, but Y/N could only curl further into herself, gripping the blanket tighter, wishing she could disappear.

"Fine," her stepmom muttered, the bitterness in her voice clear now. "Keep hiding. You always do." She turned sharply and left, the door closing behind her with a finality that stung.

Y/N sat motionless, her legs pulled up to her chest, the blanket now pulled tightly around her body. The quiet in her room, which usually felt like a soft cocoon, was now suffocating. The hum of the outside world couldn’t mask the tension that still lingered in the air, thick with the weight of her stepmom’s words. It felt heavy now, the silence pressing in on her, amplifying everything she couldn’t say, everything she wished she could change.

The anger from their confrontation burned in her chest, but it was a slow, bubbling kind of anger. The kind that twisted inside her, gnawing at her with each passing second. She wanted to scream, to yell everything she’d never been able to say, but the words were stuck. Her body felt frozen, caught in this never-ending loop of failure.

Her stepmom’s voice echoed in her mind, each phrase repeating over and over like a broken record. "Why can’t you just say something?" "I want you to be normal." The words cut into her, digging deeper into the wound her stepmom had been picking at for years. And yet, despite the anger that flared up inside her, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her stepmom was right.

She hated herself for it. Why can’t I just be normal?

The question lingered in the air, gnawing at her. She curled in on herself tighter, her nails digging into her arms. She could feel the anger rising in her chest, but it wasn’t the kind of anger that would help her break free—it was the kind that ate away at her from the inside, tearing at the pieces of her that were already fragile. The kind of anger that made her doubt herself, make her feel smaller, weaker.

She felt so broken. And for a moment, she wished she could tear herself apart and rebuild herself into someone who wasn’t so defective. Maybe if she were someone else—someone who could speak, who could just act normal—things wouldn’t be this way. Maybe her stepmom wouldn’t see her as a burden, as something to fix.

But the truth was, she didn’t know how to change. She didn’t know how to be what everyone expected her to be. And every time her stepmom spoke to her like that, it felt like the pieces of her own self-worth chipped away, leaving behind something less than what she’d been before.

Normal—that word had never felt more unattainable.

Y/N closed her eyes, but it didn’t make the feeling go away. It only made the weight of her own silence feel more suffocating. The pressure of trying to conform, to fit into a mold she didn’t belong in, was like a vise tightening around her chest. Her stepmom’s disappointment echoed in her head, filling up every empty space. Why can’t you just speak?

She didn’t know how to speak when everything inside her felt like it was locked behind a door she couldn’t open. Every attempt to break free from the silence had always led her back here, to this suffocating place where she couldn’t even breathe right.

The self-hatred was familiar now. It had been a constant companion for as long as she could remember. She hated herself for not being able to meet expectations, for not being enough in the way everyone seemed to want her to be. She hated that her stepmom was right—that she was different, that she didn’t belong, that she wasn’t normal.

Her breath hitched as the frustration built up, an unbearable knot in her throat. She wanted to shout, to make it stop, but all she could do was lie there, trapped in her own mind, fighting with herself. It always felt like this. Every time, the words would slip away, and she'd be left in this awful silence, all alone with her thoughts.

But more than anything, Y/N hated how small she felt. How her stepmom's words had a way of making her feel so insignificant, so unworthy. It was as though, by not speaking, she was failing in every way possible. The thought of her years in speech therapy stung. She'd tried. She had. But somewhere along the way, things had fallen apart. In middle school, she’d made progress. But high school? That was when it all came crashing down. She'd had no therapy, no guidance, and the silence crept back in like an old friend—unwanted, but familiar. And now, here she was, stuck with the same old weight in her chest, the same crushing inability to speak.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but it wasn’t just sadness she felt—it was anger, raw and bitter, mingling with the self-hatred that had always lingered under the surface. She wanted to scream, to yell everything she’d never been able to say. She wanted to shout at her stepmom that she wasn’t broken, that it wasn’t her fault. But the words, once again, were stuck, trapped behind the same invisible barrier.

Instead, she let herself cry, angry tears streaking down her face. She didn’t even know why she was crying anymore. Was it because of her stepmom? Or because of everything she could never say? The frustration built in her chest, but all she could do was let the tears fall, each one carrying the weight of her silence, of her inability to just be like everyone else.

Her fingers, trembling, found their way to the edges of her sleeve. She began rubbing the fabric between her fingers, a mindless gesture, but one that had always calmed her in moments like these. The soft, repetitive motion felt grounding, like it was the only thing in her control when everything else felt so far out of reach. She didn’t even notice she was doing it—this small act of comfort that was as much a reflex as it was a way to cope with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing over her.

As the minutes dragged on, she felt herself sinking deeper into the shame and frustration, the thoughts spiraling out of control. How many times had people thought she was rude? How many times had she been told she was unfriendly, cold, because she couldn’t speak up? She’d seen the looks, the whispers behind her back. She knew what they thought of her. A shy girl? No. They thought she was stuck-up, standoffish, even rude. They didn’t understand that it wasn’t about not wanting to talk—it was about not being able to.

Her head fell into her knees, her body shaking with the force of the tears she couldn’t hold back. If only she could just be... normal. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. And it hurt more than anything.

A few days later, the evening had fallen, and the café was quieter than usual. The last of the customers were finishing their drinks, and Y/N’s coworker had settled behind the counter, casually handling the few remaining customers. Since the café wasn’t busy, Y/N had been given the task of cleaning up—sweeping the floors and wiping down the tables. It felt like a peaceful end to her shift, one where she could quietly focus on the tasks at hand.

As Y/N moved around the café, her mind was distant, absorbed in the repetitive motion of cleaning. She didn’t notice when the door jingled open and someone walked in.

Beomgyu entered the café with a relaxed air, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/N. She was still focused on her task, oblivious to his presence. His gaze softened, watching her for a moment before he stepped up to the counter to place his order.

“I’ll just have an iced green tea, please,” Beomgyu said, his voice light, but loud enough for Y/N’s coworker to hear.

Y/N’s coworker nodded and got to work making the drink, his attention now split between the counter and the lingering emptiness of the café. Once the drink was handed to him, Beomgyu moved to the side, taking his usual spot by the window and casually sitting down at a table, his eyes naturally drifting back to Y/N as she moved about.

He noticed how focused she seemed, her hands gently wiping down a table. She was lost in her own world, unaware of the quiet gaze that followed her movements. For a moment, Beomgyu simply watched, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Y/N continued cleaning, unaware of his eyes on her. She moved to the next table, pausing to scrub at a stubborn spot. It wasn’t until she reached for the cleaning supplies near the counter that she noticed Beomgyu sitting at the window, looking in her direction.

Her heart skipped, and for a moment, she froze. Was he... looking at her? She quickly turned her gaze away, hoping she hadn’t been caught staring. Y/N busied herself with finishing up the last of the cleaning, trying to shake off the nerves that had suddenly crept in.

Beomgyu, however, wasn’t making things easier. Every now and then, his eyes would flick back to her, but he never made a move to interrupt her work. Instead, he took a sip of his drink, his attention still lingering on her, as though waiting for the right moment to approach.

Y/N stole another quick glance at him, her stomach fluttering when she realized that yes, he was indeed looking her way. She quickly looked down at her hands, wishing for the floor to swallow her up. He wasn’t making any attempt to talk to her, but just knowing he was there, watching her, made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t sure how to handle.

She returned to the counter, hoping to stay busy so she wouldn’t have to overthink the situation. Y/N tried to keep her movements casual, even as she caught herself glancing in Beomgyu’s direction again.

Beomgyu smiled to himself as he watched her, taking another sip of his drink. He wasn’t in a rush to leave. He liked how she didn’t seem to know he was watching, giving him the chance to enjoy the quiet moment with her without pressure.

The café had grown quieter as the clock ticked closer to closing time. Y/N’s shift was nearing its end, and she was finishing up the last few tasks—restocking and collecting stray cups. Her coworker, who was managing the counter, had been keeping himself busy with a couple of remaining customers. Y/N stole a glance at the clock, noting that her shift would end soon. Her heart, however, was still racing from the nerves that had built up ever since Beomgyu had entered the café earlier.

She glanced over at his table, finding him still seated alone, but this time, his gaze seemed to be fixed on his phone. She quickly looked away, trying to ignore the feeling in her chest. It was hard not to notice the way his eyes lingered on her all night, but she kept herself busy, hoping the discomfort would fade.

After about half an hour, Y/N finally made her way toward the counter, preparing to clock out. Her coworker was chatting with a customer, so Y/N walked over to the register to grab her things, trying to keep her movements casual, trying to pretend she wasn’t aware of Beomgyu sitting just a few feet away. Eager to be away from work, she quickly untied her apron, folded it neatly, and slipped it into her bag

She pulled her bag over her shoulder and then successfully clocked out. Just as she was about to turn to leave, she felt a light tap on the counter. She looked up, startled, to find Beomgyu standing there with a soft smile.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice calm. “Are you about to head out?”

Y/N felt the tension in her body rise again, but she nodded.

Beomgyu’s smile softened as he looked at her. “Ah, I see. Well, I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute before you go. If that’s okay?”

Y/N froze for a moment; she hadn’t expected Beomgyu to approach her again, and part of her was still unsure of how to react. With a slow nod, she looked up at his face.

And that’s when it hit her—up close, Beomgyu was even more striking than she had realized. His eyes, warm and expressive, were just a shade lighter than she remembered, and his smile was disarming. There was something about the way the dim café lighting caught the curve of his jaw and the easy confidence he wore like a second skin.

Y/N found herself momentarily breathless, her thoughts scattering as she studied him. His features were so effortlessly handsome, she hadn’t truly noticed before, distracted by the nervousness whenever they crossed paths. Now, with him standing so close, she realized he had a presence that made it hard to look away, even for a brief moment.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Y/N quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed her brief lapse in composure, but the moment of silence stretched out between them.

Y/N took a deep breath, still feeling the nervous flutter in her chest, but she could tell Beomgyu wasn’t trying to pressure her. His smile was genuine, and there was a kindness in his eyes that made her feel a little at ease.

She glanced at the clock, seeing that the café was about to close, and then back at Beomgyu. With a soft exhale, she nodded. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk, even if it was just a little.

Beomgyu’s eyes lit up, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’re willing to chat. I know it’s late, but if you’re up for it, we could head to the library. It’s quiet, and I know that’s where we first met… Thought it might be a good place to continue the conversation.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t sure about leaving the café, but the idea of being somewhere familiar, like the library, felt less intimidating. She nodded again, her fingers brushing the edge of her apron nervously, but she made the decision. It was just a short walk. She could do this.

Beomgyu smiled brightly at her response. His expression a mix of relief and warmth. “Great! Let’s head over then.”

The walk to the library was quiet, the cool night air brushing against their skin as the campus felt peaceful. Most students had already headed home, and the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated the path ahead. Y/N could feel her nerves easing a little as she walked beside Beomgyu, his presence somehow calming despite her earlier anxiety.

They didn’t speak much during the walk, and Y/N was thankful for the silence. It gave her time to think and process everything that had happened. She kept her gaze forward, but she could feel Beomgyu’s presence beside her, his footsteps light and steady. Every now and then, she could hear him humming softly, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was nervous too.

When they reached the library, the door automatically slid open, and they stepped inside. The soft hush of the building immediately enveloped them, the sound of footsteps echoing in the empty hall. Beomgyu led the way, gesturing toward a table by one of the large windows.

“Here’s good,” he said with a smile. “I like this spot. It’s peaceful, and you get a nice view of the campus at night.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the quiet atmosphere. She felt the weight of the day lifting off her shoulders as she took a seat, she placed her bag in the chair next to her and then pulled out her notebook.

Beomgyu settled into the chair across from her, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “So… I guess I should start by saying thanks for meeting me. I know this might feel a little random, but I just wanted to talk with you more.”

Beomgyu shifted in his seat, the quietness between them feeling heavier than he’d expected. He wasn’t used to moments like this—he thrived in conversation, in laughter, in noise. Sitting across from someone so silent was unfamiliar, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d made things awkward.

Y/N glanced up at Beomgyu briefly before opening her notebook. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing over the cover as if steadying herself. Flipping through the pages in search of a clean spot, she tried not to feel the weight of Beomgyu’s gaze.

As she turned the pages, Beomgyu’s attention was drawn to the scattered doodles filling the margins and corners—tiny cats curled up in intricate poses, a few birds in mid-flight, and even a tiny turtle peeking out of its shell. The sketches were charming and full of personality, giving him a glimpse into a side of her he hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t help but smile, but his smile quickly faded as realization set in.

But as she kept flipping, it dawned on him. She’s never spoken to me… Is this how she talks to people? he thought, his expression softening as understanding settled in.

It wasn’t a bad thing—it was just different. Beomgyu wasn’t used to this kind of communication, but there was something fascinating about it. Watching her write instead of hearing her speak felt quieter, more intentional, and somehow more personal.

Finally landing on a clean page, Y/N pulled out her pen. Her hands trembled slightly as she began writing, her nerves threatening to overwhelm her. She’d never done this with someone like him before. What if he didn’t understand? What if he thought it was weird? Most people found her notebook strange, and she braced herself for the same reaction.

Beomgyu’s natural urge to fill the silence started to creep in, but he resisted it, allowing the quiet to settle around them. It dawned on him that this was how she communicated—on her terms.

When she finished writing, she slid the notebook toward him, her stomach twisting in knots.

Why did you want to talk to me?

Beomgyu blinked, surprised at the bluntness of her question. He glanced up at her and smiled. For someone so reserved, she didn’t shy away from being direct when she wrote.

“Well… I guess I just wanted to get to know you better,” he said, his tone soft but honest. “You’re quiet, but there’s something about you that makes me curious. Like, I feel like there’s more to you than what people might see, and I wanted to figure out what that is.”

Y/N listened carefully, her hands hovering above the notebook as she processed his words. The knot in her stomach loosened slightly, though the nervous energy still buzzed beneath the surface, Beomgyu’s answer caught her off guard.

When she glanced up and saw the way Beomgyu’s gaze softened—more curious than anything—her heart fluttered, though this time, for an entirely different reason. She wasn’t used to someone looking at her like that—without judgment or pity, but with genuine interest.

Her pen hovered for a moment before she wrote again.

I’m not good at talking to people.

Beomgyu leaned closer to read her note, his smile growing softer. “I kind of figured,” he said with a small chuckle. “But honestly? That’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you’re not comfortable. This is different, but I don’t mind it. Actually…” He paused, his eyes catching on her doodles again. “I think it’s kind of cool.” Y/N blinked at his response, her heart skipping because of the unexpected compliment. Her fingers fiddled with the pen as she wrote again.

You’re really nice.

Beomgyu read her note, his grin widening. “I try,” he teased gently. “But seriously, I like this. I like talking to you—however you want to do it.”

For the first time, Y/N felt the tension in her shoulders easing. Beomgyu wasn’t just tolerating her way of communicating—he genuinely appreciated it.

They continued their conversation, the flow of words becoming more natural between them. Y/N shared her passion for animals, her dream of becoming a vet tech, and how much peace she found in working with animals rather than people. Beomgyu, in turn, talked about his love for music, his journey in learning audio engineering, and his deep admiration for the creative process.

Beomgyu wasn’t just being patient with her—he genuinely seemed to enjoy this, treating their exchange like any other conversation.

She tapped her pen against the page before writing. What’s something really dumb that makes you happy?

Beomgyu’s face lit up as he read her question. “Oh, that’s easy,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “When I do laundry and actually find socks that match. It feels like a miracle every time.”

Y/N looked at him, amused, and wrote. That’s… really specific.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you saying that doesn’t make you happy? Matching socks are an underrated joy!”

She pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh and scribbled. I don’t hate it, but I wouldn’t call it a miracle.

He shook his head with mock disappointment. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m sitting here with a sock-matching hater.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, tapping her pen before writing. I like it when my blanket and pillow are cold when I get into bed.

Beomgyu froze, his face suddenly serious. “Okay, that’s a good one. There’s nothing like that first cold spot under the blanket. But counterpoint—nothing is worse than getting out of bed when you’re nice and warm.”

Y/N sighed dramatically and wrote. Pain. True suffering.

He grinned at her response. “Right? Honestly, I’d stay in bed forever if it was socially acceptable.”

She shook her head, but her smile lingered as she underlined the word pain. The conversation wasn’t deep, but it didn’t have to be. For the first time in a long while, talking—well, writing—with someone felt easy.

After some time, Beomgyu glanced at his phone and sighed. “I should probably get going,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Didn’t realize how late it was.”

Y/N nodded, a bit reluctantly. She was glad they had spent time together, but part of her wished she didn’t have to say goodbye so soon. Still, the warmth from their conversation stayed with her, and she felt a small, content smile tugging at her lips.

Beomgyu stood up and grabbed his bag, looking at her one more time with a soft expression. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

Y/N reached for her notebook to write something, but before she could, Beomgyu waved it off. “You don’t have to write anything. I just… wanted you to know I’m happy we talked.”

Y/N smiled at him, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook before she tucked it away in her bag. 

Beomgyu looked at Y/N with a thoughtful expression, his voice softening. “Hey, do you need help getting home? It’s late, and I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by his concern. Her heart fluttered at the sincerity in his tone. She shook her head gently, signaling she was okay, though her hesitation lingered. It wasn’t often that someone cared enough to ask.

Beomgyu caught the brief pause in her reaction and nodded understandingly, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just wanted to make sure.”

As he adjusted the strap of his bag, a thought seemed to strike him. He hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Actually, do you mind if I get your number? You know… in case you ever need help… or want to hang out, or even just talk.”

Y/N froze for a split second, caught off guard by the request but oddly comforted. After a moment, she reached out and gently took his phone, her fingers brushing his for just an instant. The warmth of the moment made her chest tighten, but she quickly typed in her number and handed it back.

“Thanks,” Beomgyu said, his grin widening as he glanced at the screen. “I’ll text you so you have mine, too. And seriously, let me know if you ever need anything. Oh, and… make sure you get home safe, okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart lighter than it had been all day. She glanced up at him as he turned to leave, feeling an unexpected warmth in her chest. Just as he started to walk away, she found herself offering him a small, genuine smile—a gesture that felt monumental to her. Beomgyu paused when he caught it, his own smile softening, before he gave her a playful little wave and disappeared through the library doors.

As Y/N left the library, she hugged her bag close to her side, the notebook tucked safely inside. The cool night air nipped at her cheeks, making her quicken her steps toward the parking lot where her car waited. The campus was quiet at this hour, with only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of streetlights breaking the stillness.

Reaching her car, she unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat. The familiar quiet of the vehicle wrapped around her, a welcome reprieve after the unexpected emotional weight of the evening. She gripped the steering wheel loosely, taking a moment to sit there and reflect.

Her conversation with Beomgyu replayed in her mind. The way he smiled at her, the patience in his tone, and his genuine curiosity about her notebook—it was all so… different. Not many people had ever taken the time to truly try and understand her. But Beomgyu had, and he hadn’t made her feel strange for the way she communicated. If anything, he made her feel seen.

A small smile crept onto her lips. For once, she didn’t feel consumed by guilt or regret for how she handled things. Tonight had been a good step—one she could feel proud of. She had opened up, even just a little, and it hadn’t been as terrifying as she expected.

The thought of Beomgyu’s parting words warmed her chest. “I like talking to you—however you want to do it.” He meant it, didn’t he? It was hard to believe someone like him, so outgoing and confident, could be so patient with someone like her. And yet, he had been.

Her thoughts shifted to home, where her dad was likely waiting up for her, as he often did when she worked late or stayed out studying. She hated making him worry, but she also felt the need to take a moment for herself. Her fingers brushed against the strap of her bag, and she smiled again, this time a little wider.

Starting the car, Y/N let out a soft sigh as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tonight felt like the start of something new, something different—and for the first time, the thought didn’t completely terrify her.

The walk back to his dorm was a blur for Beomgyu, his mind still lingering on the evening. Their conversation had been so easy, yet so different from what he was used to. He had been surprised by how comfortable it felt to talk to her, even with the silence and the notebook. It made him think about her in ways he hadn’t before.

As he got back to his room, he pulled out his phone and immediately searched for: “How to help my shy friend,” “What do I do when my friend doesn’t talk,” “Social anxiety help,” “Friend doesn’t talk but I want to help.” His search was filled with questions that might seem silly to anyone else, but Beomgyu was determined to understand. He didn’t know exactly what Y/N’s situation was yet, but he could tell there was more to it than just being shy. He wanted to be the kind of friend who didn’t make things worse, the kind of person who could make her feel comfortable enough to open up without pressure.

He clicked on a few links and began reading, more focused than he had been in a while. He wasn’t sure where the research would lead him, but for the first time, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to make sure he did things the right way.

As time went on, Beomgyu ended up sprawled out on his bed, his laptop perched precariously on his knees. The bright screen was filled with open tabs, each one boasting headlines like "Understanding Social Anxiety" and "How to Support a Shy Friend Without Overstepping." He had even clicked on a thread titled "What to Do If Someone Doesn't Talk to You," though he quickly closed it after realizing it was mostly people venting about awkward first dates.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why is this so complicated?” he muttered to himself, scrolling through yet another article that felt more clinical than helpful.

Frustrated, he grabbed his phone and opened his messages. His thumb hovered over Taehyun’s contact for a second before he typed out a text:

Beomgyu: Hypothetically, if you had a really shy friend who doesn’t talk much, how would you make them feel comfortable? Trying to do some research.

It didn’t take long for Taehyun to reply.

Taehyun: Hypothetically? Or are we talking about an actual person here? Are you asking for yourself or writing an essay?

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and quickly typed back.

Beomgyu: Just answer the question, dude Taehyun: Depends. How shy are they? Beomgyu: Like… doesn’t talk. At all. Writes instead

Taehyun: Oh. That’s… different. Is this about someone you know?

Beomgyu hesitated before replying.

Beomgyu: Yeah. I just don’t want to do or say something wrong. I feel like they’re nervous around people, and I don’t want to make it worse

Taehyun’s response took a bit longer this time.

Taehyun: Alright, here’s the deal: don’t overthink it. Just treat them the way you already are. If they’re comfortable enough to communicate with you, that means you’re doing something right Beomgyu: What if I accidentally say something that upsets them? Taehyun: Then apologize. Seriously, Beomgyu, it’s not rocket science. You don’t need to handle them like glass. Just listen and don’t push them. Let them come to you at their own pace

Beomgyu frowned at the screen, rereading the messages. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Taehyun’s advice—it was good advice—but he still felt like there was more he should be doing.

Beomgyu: I guess that makes sense… I just don’t want them to feel like I don’t care Taehyun: You’re literally researching how to be a better friend to them. If they don’t see you care, they’re blind Beomgyu: Fair. Taehyun: Wait. Hold up. This wouldn’t happen to be a girl, would it?

Beomgyu’s stomach flipped as he read the text.

Beomgyu: What does that have to do with anything? Taehyun: Everything, bro. You don’t even put this much effort into group projects. If this isn’t a crush, I’ll eat my textbooks

Beomgyu groaned, his face heating up.

Beomgyu: It’s not like that! Taehyun: Sure. Keep telling yourself that

Despite the teasing, Beomgyu felt a little better. Taehyun had a way of grounding him while still making him feel like a complete idiot, and somehow, it always worked.

Beomgyu: Thanks, I guess Taehyun: Anytime. Now go to bed before you fry your brain. Your girl deserves better than a sleep-deprived Beomgyu Beomgyu: She’s NOT—ugh. Goodnight.

Beomgyu dropped his phone onto his chest with a sigh, Taehyun’s words replaying in his mind. It wasn’t like that… was it?

[kitsuneheart]

On the Sonic fandom and purity culture

I guess the harassment of the artist Shaddycatz has sparked up again, and it got me wanting to talk about the Sonic fandom and this really laughable rise in purity culture within the fandom. Shaddycatz works in drawn art, but I specifically have Thoughts™ on fanfic and people not understanding what the fuck the AO3 rating and tagging system is for.

When I drop into a new fandom, especially if it has me writing fic after a long hiatus, I enjoy taking part in the online community, and have really enjoyed Discord for that. For the most part, my experiences on Discord have been absolutely lovely.

Until this exchange below. Names redacted, each person assigned a color instead.

Wow. What a hot fucking take. Splitting off smut into a separate work in a series is "directly marketing explicit stories to teenagers."

The thing is, I've shared these screenshots with a lot of people, and you know what two of the most common reactions are?

Oh, thank goodness! I love romance, but I'm sex repulsed! It's nice to read romance without having to scroll past the smut!

Oh, thank goodness! I just wanna read smut without struggling through 80k of romance.

That and: That is some fucked up purity culture bullshit.

Anyways, I leave that Discord (I later was on the lookout for new Discords and accidentally joined again and was kicked, so they still mad, lol) and go on to finish my fic, posting a new work in the series just for the smut.

Then I get this comment, which I have since deleted, cause I ain't letting nobody talk shit on my own damn fic.

What a fucking stretch in that first paragraph: posting Sonic fanfic with an Explicit rating is "incredibly age inappropriate content directed at a TEEN rated audience." As if they have never seen this:

That image there? That is a huge part of the entire POINT of AO3: reader choice and author freedom. As an author, you're allowed to post whatever you want. As a reader, you are expected to manage your own experience. The onus is on the reader to take care of themselves, which is entirely logical! Horror fans especially know this. I know horror fans that will gobble up absolute gore, UNLESS there's a scene involving eyes. But they don't go out and tell authors that they shouldn't write eye gore!

The commentor ending their rant with "I will always protect fiction as fiction" is so perplexing, because no. No, you fucking won't. That was the entire point of your comment.

Anyways, in a funnier turn of events, a few weeks ago, I got this Tumblr anon that still makes me snicker:

"If anyone found out im on here i would be burning in a stake in the woods." [sic]

Well, guess that old Discord isn't in accord, is it?

And, as a final thing: my age was sure damn important to that group. I make no attempt to hide it. I'm 38, turning 39 soon. I watched the premier of Sonic SatAM. I have composition notebooks in my garage filled with Sonic porn that is old enough to vote. And I can tell you...most of your favorite creators in this fandom...aren't in their teens. Deal with it.

TL;DR: Tag your stuff, ignore the haters.

Anyways, off to edit 30k of a fuck-or-die fic. See you soon!

[petertingle-yipyip]

RAIN CHECK - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 2,408

Summary: STEM fields tend to be exhausting to study. At least your boyfriend is pretty and supportive when you unintentionally blow him off. (wrote this specifically bc @see-the-divine gave me the idea)

Anatomy. That was what the assignment was for.

No, anatomy was due in two days. It was the physiology report you had to complete.

No, you turned that in already. It was the respiratory lab write-up that was due.

No, actually, you did that already too. It was the ethics debate.

Or was it the legal analysis? Clinical recap? Vocab refresh?

It was the cardiology worksheet! That’s what the heart on your planner meant.

You flipped through your folder but found no worksheet. Frowning, you went to your class’ online portal. Again, no worksheet. Not even a link to an online assignment or a place to turn anything in.

You were starting to wonder if there was anything due that night.

You pushed your laptop away gently and let your head fall dramatically to the table. A small groan at the impact matched the heavy thud.

Your eyes were so tired. Your head was hurting. Your hands were cramping. You had notebooks, highlighters, colored pens, and index cards strewn around you. Even as you laid on the table, you could see some of them overlapping each other on the floor.

‘quad muscles (hint: 4)’

‘glenohumeral joint’

‘# of metatarsals per foot’

‘bones of the head (NOT the face)’

You whined to yourself as you kicked them away. Those were the easy ones, anyways.

The knock on your apartment door did nothing to get you up. You simply closed your eyes. 

“Y/N?” His voice was muffled on the other side. “C’mon, I know you’re here.”

You sighed slightly and lifted your head. You adjusted your laptop back into place and woke the device back up. Even if there was nothing that night, you had other deadlines right on your tail so you got right back to work.

Staring back at you was a hypothetical for a pre-teen boy coming to you with almost complete arm pain. He was a young dual athlete, a baseball pitcher and a basketball player. You needed to come up with a plan to discuss at your internship in the morning.

You vaguely heard the click of your front door as your eyes scanned the scenario over and over again.

“A lot of overhead movement.” You muttered, typing your thoughts in a separate window to organize later. “Shoulder impingement, maybe. But there’s still the forearm tightness.” You chewed mindlessly on the butt end of a pen.

“Hello to you, too.” He said in offense.

“Hey.” You nodded, not looking away. “I wonder if part of it is his epicondyle.”

You sat a little straighter as you switched to a new tab to find a study to back your idea.

“I brought dinner, because I assume you haven’t eaten all day. But since you didn’t answer my texts, you didn’t get a say in what it is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You know we had plans tonight, right?”

“What?” You looked over the top of your laptop to find him.

There was Billy, his usual suit jacket was discarded on your couch already, tossed over your pile of textbooks on the corner seat. He had pulled his tie loose and had his sleeves halfway up his arms. In his hands were two takeout containers of pasta dishes. He raised his brows in expectation.

“So that’s what that meant…” You whispered in realization. “I’m sorry, Bill. My phone is over there.” You gestured across the room, where you had purposefully shoved it under the textbooks to keep you from wasting time on it. “Rain check?”

“You’ve got a lot of I.O.U.s I can cash in. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off. “As long as you don’t try to cash ‘em all in at once, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m hurt, babe.” He said dramatically.

“Oh, you’ll live.” You rolled your eyes. “You can stay but you’ve gotta let me focus.”

“What?” He chuckled. “You’re gonna stick me in front of the TV with a meal like a toddler?”

“If that’s what it takes for me to finish this. You good with that?”

“Hey, as long as I get your attention before the night ends.” He nodded. “What are you working on tonight?”

“I’ve got this thing for my internship tomorrow. Oh, and my anatomy assignment is coming up. Do you know how many nerves are in the human body?”

He clicked his tongue. “No.”

“Over 7 trillion. And do you know how many have actual names?”

“Not a chance.”

“43 named pairs. I have to know what those are and where they are. And then, back to this.” You spun your computer. “There’s so much info I don’t have. I mean, sure, he pitches and his arm hurts-“ You spun your computer back. “But is it UCL related? Is it bone related? Is there varus instability? Honestly, this should be for the Sport Injury class next semester.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of your head, an arm coming around your shoulders. You leaned slightly into the embrace while your fingers kept typing and scrolling.

You spent a quiet couple of hours making notes and searching for studies. There were a handful that supported how pitching mechanics can impact overall arm injuries but there wasn’t many for your hypothetical’s age group.

Billy talked off and on. You didn’t look up from your screen. You could feel that your sporadic thoughts and notes were leading you to something. You just needed the right study.

“Y/N…” Billy said. He sounded tired. It might have been the fourth time he tried to get your attention.

You said nothing as he came to the table. You heard the shuffle of papers and you held out a hand to take them. After the notebook was in your hand, you simply dropped it to the floor beside you.

“This kid needs a lot of imaging and tests. The instability test for the elbow is easy enough but for his shoulder…” You spoke to yourself.

“You remember Dinah?” Billy said suddenly.

“He’s a pre-teen but have his growth plates closed already? How old does that happen again?”

You reached across Billy for a notebook. Unexpectedly, he handed you the exact one.

You flashed a quick smile before you began flipping through pages.

“Turns out she’s pregnant.” Billy continued.

“Who is?” You asked mindlessly. You were more focused on scanning your colored headings.

“Dinah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and I guess it’s mine.”

“Really?”

How could you politely tell Billy to shut the hell up?

“Mhmm. She’s gonna keep it so I guess you’ll be a step-mom.”

“That’s fine.” You shook your head. You did not care. “Am I supposed to ask for the imaging? Is that… Jeez, does that count against ethics or anything? Wait, no, that has nothing to do with ethics. Oh my god.” You pushed your hands through your hair. “Can I just get hit by a car?”

“Jesus.” He sighed loudly.

“Can you just-“ You snapped. “I’m really busy, Billy. I’m sorry but can you please just…”

“Just what?” He shrugged. “Cause all I want, Y/N, is for you to spend five goddamned minutes out of your books and your studying. I just want five minutes with my girlfriend. I made up a story of getting another woman pregnant and you don’t care.”

“You did what?”

“Exactly!” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Exactly.”

“Can you not do this right now? I have literally a million things to do.”

“No, I need your attention for two minutes, Y/N/N.”

“I told you I was going to busy. You didn’t have to stay.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy cause I want to spend time with you?”

“No but you know what this means to me and you want me to just push it aside for you! That’s not this works! Whether you care about what I’m doing or not, I need to focus.” You knocked a light fist against the table to punctuate your last few words.

 “I am proud of you. You know that I am. Everything you’re working so hard towards, it’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “In the nicest way possible, Billy, just shut the hell up. Please. I love you but can you just not tonight?”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You weren’t upset or anything over the situation. Billy had a fair response. He had planned a date night for you two, probably weeks ago, and you were fighting for your life in front of your computer screen. You could feel the burn of your sinuses from the stress tears.

“When I said I wanted to finish this degree, you promised to support me.” Your voice was more level than you expected given your elevated state of mind.

And that wasn’t to say Billy hadn’t been supportive. When your financial aid hadn’t cleared yet and you owed a portion of your tuition, Billy paid the amount without hesitation. When the $1100 was reimbursed in your aid, he refused to take it. ‘Buy yourself something nice with it’ he had told you. You used it for a new laptop and some textbooks. He often bought dinner or came over to cook when you were busy studying. He helped you with test prep.

“No matter what, you said you’d help however you could.” You continued.

“I have.”

“I know. I’m not saying you haven’t… I’m just-” You sat back and gestured vaguely to the study materials around you. “This is important to me, Bill. I want this so bad.”

“I know.” He nodded, reaching over to take your hand in his. He gave a soft squeeze. “And you’ll have it, Y/N/N. You’ll have anything you want.”

“I don’t want it to be a handout.” You sniffled as the tears streaked your cheek slowly.

“What makes you think that’s what this is?” He chuckled.

You raised a brow. “Cause you like to give me things.” You laughed in return.

“I do.” He grinned. “And I wanna do it right now.”

“If you try to give me a gift right now, I will punch you in the throat.” You threatened with a straight face.

“It’s not a gift.” He shook his head.

“Alright.” You caved. You pulled your hand free and wiped your face with the inside of your shirt. When you looked back at Billy, you saw he was standing and pulling his tie off.

“Billy Russo, if you’re trying to get me in bed right now, I will-” You tried, standing to jab a finger to his chest.

Billy just laughed.

“Anatomy review, genius.” He rolled his eyes with a small smile. He took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. “What muscles?”

“I don’t know. They’re not that defined.” You teased.

“Oh really?” Billy laughed again. “That’s how you wanna do this?”

You grinned innocently. “Delts.”

“And here?” He slid your hands down to his sides.

“Obliques.”

“Here?” Up to his arms.

“Biceps… Smaller than you’d think.”

“You think you’re funny?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I do, actually, yes.” You answered. “Are you done?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. He laid your hands over his shoulders and your fingers danced along his back. “You feel better?”

You glanced over at your laptop. Billy noticed and dramatized a sigh. He reached over and closed the computer before focusing on you again.

“Well, that was rude.” You frowned.

“You pay more attention to that thing than you do me.” He tilted his head. “How’s that fair?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I work for that. I have to pay attention to it.”

“Oh?”

You practically saw the lightbulb in his head click on.

“Wait.” You tried when you realized what you said. You tried to step back, push him back by his chest, but his grip on your hips kept you in place. “Let me explain.”

“Too late.”

“It is not! Give me a second to explain. I meant that-”

“No.” He shook his head. “I think it’s only fair that it’s my turn for your attention. I’ve worked for it, right? I deserve that, don’t I?” He began walking backwards, gently pulling you with him until he was able to spin you so your back hit the wall.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“For now, I’m asking.”

“Oh, for now.” You nodded. “You’re right, by the way. I can admit that I should give you a little more attention.”

“Aw.” He feigned a frown. “All I get is a little?”

“You aren’t a Master’s Degree that I can frame and put on my wall. You aren’t going to add a neat little ‘M.S.’ to the end of my name. You aren’t going to make my application competitive in  the medical field.” You explained. “I do love you, but you’re not changing my career, my love.”

“One, I’ll give you that. Two, I’ll give you an ‘Mrs.’ for the front of your name. I’ll give you my last name too, if you want it. Three, I can get you whatever job you want. You know that.”

“I’d like to know I earned what I get, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ve got something else you can earn then in the meantime.” He winked.

You had to laugh at that. You gently took hold of his shirtfront and pulled him a step closer.

“Lemme take care of you, hmm? You need a break.” He said gently. “Ain’t that what I’m here for?”

“Usually it’s cause you’re nice to look at.” You teased.

“Ooh.” He feigned offense. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“I love you.” You smiled innocently. “And I’m not changing my name, by the way.”

“We can talk about it later. Besides, I like the way Mrs. Y/N Russo sounds.”

You feigned a gag. “Y/N Y/L/N, M.S. sounds better.”

“Y/N Y/L/N-Russo, M.S.?”

“Why are we negotiating my name?” You laughed. “We’re not getting married anytime soon.”

He lazily shrugged. “We could go to City Hall in the morning. I can get Frankie as a witness and have us on our honeymoon by lunch.”

“Internship.” You shook your head. “Can’t skip it.”

“You could.”

“Fine. I won’t, no matter how tempting your offers are.”

[messyoungie]

my favorite study tips i’ve received 📓🩰🖇️✦

it’s not about setting a time to begin your studies, it’s more effective to set a time you wish to have all your work done by.

invest in a whiteboard. trust me, it makes everything so much more fun.

need help getting motivated? do one to three small and quick tasks you consider productive before sitting down to study. that’ll motivate you to do your work since you’re already on a roll.

you don’t have to see the workday as 12 hours. a lot of us feel like when we mess up early on in the day, the day is ruined and the only time we’ll get to try again is tomorrow. that’s not true, so stop seeing a day as one long period of time and start thinking of it in terms of halves or quarters. you procrastinated all morning? that’s okay, there are still so many quarters of the day left. quarter one was a fail, sure, but that doesn’t mean quarter two, three, and so forth have to be.

this one shifted my mindset: I was told to see studying and the knowledge I’d gain from it like a muscle. if you use it— practicing equations, working on problems, doing assignments —it’ll grow stronger. if you don’t, it’ll weaken. in other words, don’t think of studying as something you have to do. think of it as practicing your knowledge to make it stronger.

if you have a dictionary in your home, find it, keep it within reach, and actively use it. drop the habit of googling words, it may be quicker but getting used to using a dictionary will not only help you learn the words you had in mind but will also expose you to words you had no idea existed. a simple but great way to start expanding your vocabulary.

after you’ve already completed the mandatory studying and homework, try studying without using technology. it can be fun and is a great way to challenge what you know if most of your studies depend on devices. challenge yourself once in a while to have a completely offline study session as a way of having a refreshing session.

don’t study until you get it right study until you can’t get it wrong. use free online practice work sheets and questions to help you be sure in your knowledge.

have a mini routine before you dive into your study session. like how people have a morning routine, make it a habit to maybe put your hair up, apply chapstick, and fill a mug with your favorite drink before you study. anything that’ll tell you that it’s now officially study time.

if planners seem too confining and strict but keeping all your assignments in your head is overwhelming, opt for an assignment tracker. keep a notebook to write down every single assignment you receive and it’s due date to easily overview and keep track of them all.