#and everyone else in her classes feels the same
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23bilss · 1 day ago
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hi beautiful, could you write some college professor!billie × college student!reader smut/headcanons?
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college professor!billie x college student!reader
headcanons
| ★ ; idkkk how to do headcanons…
| ★ taglist ; @billiesmainwife @bilswifee @st0nerlesb0 @si1verl4ke @bitchesbrokenpromises @bxllxebxtch
meet me after class?
billie watched you like a hawk while teaching, she took a liking into you. her head filled to the brim with fantasies of what you both can do together, she restri— more like, surpressed the feeling of her obsession with you. the bell rung, loudly, snapping her out of the trance she was stuck in
“well have a nice day everyone, please do the homework assigned to you on the files. ill email you all tonight.” she yells for every adult and everyone groans before scurrying out the room
“y/n, stay back. i have a request for you.”
jealousy
billie always had a thing for you, ever since you walked into her class and sat down. she always hated when you sat down next to your boyfriend, your boyfriend was in the way of her being in your life. she always dreamt of you whispering in her ear, her listening to your soft voice on a cold winter morning. billie loved you, she couldn’t admit that. she was 29 for christ sake and she’d get fired if she ever dated you. fucking bitch.
i cant stop.
everyday, she thinks about fucking you, having her head in between your thighs. watching you be ever so desperate for her, she couldn’t stop. she needed to stop before she did something drastic, before she gets fucking fired and ends up alone in her house with no, she would want…you? with her, forever.
my love
everyday in class, billie calls on you. her exact words are, “yes, my love?” and you blush—hard. it never fails. she says it so casually, like it means nothing, like it’s just another phrase she tosses around without a second thought.
your friends ask you, “what’s that about?” “does she say it to everyone?” “are you two…?” the same fucking question, over and over.
you wish you could fuck her. only one can hope.
hush.
she always says your name a little softer than everyone else’s, like it’s a secret. like if she said it even louder the class would find out, her love for you is unconditional. why did she fall into the trap of young lovers?
“your secrets safe with me” they always said.
the eyes are the window to the soul.
billie has this habit of locking eyes with you when she’s explaining something to the class, like you’re the only one there. it makes your heart race every time. she knows shes staring at you, she doesn’t care. inside, shes craving you.
write me a letter
sometimes she’ll scribble little notes in the middle of your essays. not just feedback, but things like “you made me think,” or “this line stuck with me all day.” you tell yourself it’s nothing, she does this to everyone, you’re not the only one. right?
keep this a secret, please?
she begs you, pleads you. everyday she does, she trusts you but not fully enough to say “hell yeah thats my girlfriend” across the stage on graduation day. shes scared if you get mad at her you’ll tell, she cant lose this job. if she does her reputation is ruined forever.
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pohtaytoh · 2 days ago
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗬/𝗟/𝗡
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*ೃ༄ Megan Skiendiel x f!reader
Everyone ships Megan Skiendiel with your brother Gabriel, convinced they're endgame. He's always taking credit for the sweet gestures that make Megan swoon, and she totally believes he's the one. But you, Y/N Y/L/N, have been secretly head over heels for Megan for years. You're the one leaving those thoughtful gifts and sending those encouraging messages, watching your brother bask in the glory.
But as Megan starts spending more time with you, she can't shake this feeling. Now Megan's wondering if the person she's really meant to be with has been right in front of her all this time.
part: one. two. <three.> four. five. six.
Y/N Y/L/N truly believed it deep in her heart. She was the wrong Y/L/N. The words kept playing over and over in her head, a low, sad hum behind her ears.
Her brother, Gabriel, was the flashy one, the loud one, the one who could charm anyone without even trying, and that included Megan. He was like the sun around whom everyone else seemed to turn and Y/N? She was the quiet one, the one who watched from the edges.
She felt things very deeply, but she kept those feelings locked away, hidden tightly inside. She was the one who loved from the shadows, like an invisible hand giving comfort and doing thoughtful things that Gabriel then simply took credit for.
This had become a pattern, a painful rhythm to her life that had gone on for years, like a broken record playing the same sad song. She felt stuck, always watching, always aching inside. She had almost, almost, started to accept this as her fate.
She told herself, “Just keep loving her from a distance, just keep doing good things in secret, and maybe, just maybe, Megan will always be happy, even if I'm not the one making her happy.”
It was a small, sad comfort she tried to hold onto, a very fragile shield against her own growing heartbreak.
But sometimes, the world has its own plans. Sometimes, even when you think everything is completely set in stone, fixed forever, a tiny, almost invisible crack appears, and through that small crack, a sliver of unexpected light can pour in, bright and surprising.
The change started in a very subtle way. So subtle, in fact, that at first, Y/N barely even noticed it. It wasn't about big, grand gestures anymore. It wasn't about the stolen chai lattes or the study guides Gabriel had claimed as his own. This was something different, something much quieter, much more personal.
Megan was, little by little, starting to seek Y/N out. Not to ask for favors, not to complain about a class, but just to talk. To share thoughts. To just be together.
The very first clear sign came on a Tuesday, late in the afternoon. Y/N was sitting on a simple bench outside the university library, sketching in her old, worn notebook. The air was cool, carrying the familiar smells of damp earth after a light rain and the tempting scent of street food from a nearby vendor.
She was drawing one of the ancient, gnarled mango trees that stood like old guardians all over the campus, focusing on the twisted roots that broke through the concrete walkways. She was completely lost in her own quiet world, the gentle sound of her pencil moving against the paper filling her ears. Then, a soft shadow fell over her page.
"That's really beautiful, Y/N," a soft voice said, making Y/N jump a little. She looked up, startled, to see Megan standing there. Megan had a small, genuine smile on her face.
She wasn't rushing, wasn't looking around for anyone else. She was just… there, standing quietly, looking at Y/N's drawing with true interest.
"The way you captured the roots... They look like old hands reaching up from the ground. I never noticed that about these trees before."
Y/N’s face warmed, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She quickly closed her sketchbook, feeling a sudden wave of shyness. "Oh, thanks, Megan," she mumbled, trying to sound casual. "Just messing around, really. You know, doodling."
Megan shook her head gently. She then moved to sit on the bench beside Y/N, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. "No, seriously," Megan insisted.
"You really see things. You notice details others completely miss. Your brother always just rushes past these trees, always on his phone, probably texting or scrolling. He probably doesn't even know they're here, or how amazing they look."
Megan chuckled softly, a light, airy sound, but there was a hint of something else in her voice – a touch of thoughtful sadness, maybe?
"You really pay attention to the world around you."
That was the first crack in Y/N's carefully built wall. Y/N’s heart did a strange little flip-flop, a dizzying somersault inside her chest. She had to swallow hard to keep her voice steady, to stop herself from showing any sign of the sudden earthquake happening deep inside her.
“She noticed me. She saw me. And she... she compared me to Gabriel. And I came out on top.”
It was a quiet thought, but it vibrated through her whole body, making her feel both incredibly vulnerable and strangely powerful.
After that moment, the "coincidences" started piling up, one after another, until they weren't coincidences at all. Megan would stop by Y/N's dorm room more often. Sometimes it was just for a quick chat before class, a passing "Hey, how's your day going?" But then she'd start to linger.
She’d lean against Y/N's doorframe, then slowly, casually, she would just fall onto Y/N's worn bean bag chair, sprawling out in a relaxed way that showed she felt completely comfortable and at ease there. Then, before Y/N even realized it, hours would melt away as they talked about everything.
One evening, it was raining very hard. Megan knocked softly on Y/N's door, looking a little tired and stressed about a big upcoming philosophy exam.
"Mind if I just... exist in here for a bit?" Megan asked, her voice quiet, rubbing her temples as if trying to soothe a headache. "My roommate is on a super loud video call with her family, and I seriously can't focus on anything."
"Come in, Megs," Y/N said, a warm, soft feeling spreading through her chest at Megan's easy presence. Megan settled onto the beanbag, letting out a long, tired sigh.
"This philosophy stuff is seriously killing me, Y/N," Megan confessed, opening her thick textbook with a groan. "I just don't get it. Like, at all. Gabriel tried to explain it to me earlier, but he just kinda... summarized the slides really fast. I need to understand the why’s, you know? Not just the facts."
Y/N paused from her own reading, setting her book down gently. "Which concept are you stuck on?" she asked softly, truly wanting to help Megan figure it out.
Megan pointed to a confusing paragraph in her textbook. Y/N read it, taking her time, then looked back at Megan with a thoughtful expression.
"Okay, so think of it like this..." And for the next whole hour, Y/N didn't just explain the answers, she broke the confusing ideas down piece by piece, drawing little diagrams on a scrap piece of paper, using simple, everyday examples that made sense. She watched Megan’s eyes closely, seeing the exact moment understanding clicked, like a light suddenly turning on.
"Oh my gosh," Megan breathed, leaning back against the beanbag, a look of pure awe and relief on her face. "Y/N, that actually makes so much sense! Why didn't anyone explain it like that before? Seriously, you make it so clear, even to me."
She shook her head slightly, a small, thoughtful frown appearing on her brow. "Your brother just told me to Google it and then gave up. He said, 'It's just philosophy, Megs, don't sweat it too much.' "
She chuckled softly at the memory but there was a hint of something else in her voice, a touch of disappointment, maybe, or a dawning realization?
"But with you, it’s different. You actually make me think. My brain actually lights up, you know? It's exciting."
Y/N’s heart did that dizzying somersault again, only this time, it felt stronger, more real, like a solid, joyful thump.
She had to swallow hard, fighting back a sudden lump in her throat, a wave of emotion she didn't want to show.
"Yeah?" she managed, trying her best to sound casual, like this was a normal, everyday thing for Megan to say.
"I mean, I just like talking to you, Megs. You have a really interesting way of looking at things. You make me think too. It's cool."
Megan smiled then, a genuine, warm smile that wasn't just on her lips but shone deep in her eyes, making Y/N’s whole world pause and tilt. It was a smile of true connection, a deep, quiet recognition.
"You too, Y/N. You just… get it. Like, you see things that no one else does. You see me.”
The last part was spoken almost to herself, a quiet realization that seemed to ripple through the air between them, making the silence that followed feel deep and meaningful, not awkward at all.
It was as if Megan was discovering a new, important part of herself, a part that was perfectly reflected in Y/N’s quiet understanding and presence.
In that moment, surrounded by the drumming rain and the quiet hum of the university dorm, Y/N felt a connection with Megan that went far beyond any stolen credit or public praise.
It was a raw, real, authentic thread, woven between just the two of them, untouched by outside expectations, untouched by Gabriel's charming but often surface-level presence.
It was a connection that spoke directly to Y/N's pining heart, whispering a dangerous hope. Megan might have believed the world's story about her and Gabriel, but her own heart, it seemed, was starting to whisper a different name. The doubt, however tiny, was beginning to grow in her mind, not about Gabriel being a bad person, but about him truly being the right person for her.
That Gabriel was the wrong Y/L/N all along.
These deep conversations, mixed with moments of easy laughter, started to become a regular thing. Megan would often just appear at Y/N’s door, sometimes with a new book she was excited to talk about, sometimes just to vent about a frustrating class, but always, always, ending up talking about something deeper, something that truly mattered to her.
They’d talk for hours about the complex plots of their favorite true-crime podcasts, debating theories, arguing playfully over who the real suspect was. They’d dive into the hidden meanings of Emily Dickinson’s poems, comparing their favorite verses, discovering new layers together that neither had seen on their own.
Y/N would find herself quoting lines from stanzas, and Megan's eyes would widen in genuine surprise and delight.
"You get that too?" Megan would ask, a rare, unbridled excitement in her voice, leaning closer to Y/N. "I thought I was the only one who saw that! Gabriel just shrugs and says poetry is too deep for him and walks away." There was a little sigh in her voice when she mentioned Gabriel.
One evening, Megan brought over her laptop, looking completely defeated. She was stressed out about a particularly confusing coding problem for a group project, a huge part of her final grade. Gabriel was supposed to be helping her, but he’d "had something come up" – probably another party or a casual hangout with his friends.
Y/N, who had a quiet knack for logic and coding puzzles, even though it wasn't her main subject, just patiently sat with her. She didn’t just give Megan the answers, she gently guided her, step by step, explaining the why behind each line of code, watching as understanding slowly dawned in Megan’s eyes, like a light suddenly coming on in a dark room.
As Megan finally fixed the frustrating bug, a smile lighting up her face, she leaned back, looking at Y/N with a profound, almost reverent appreciation.
"Y/N," she said, her voice soft, filled with wonder. "You're amazing. Seriously. Your brother just tells me to Google things or tries to do it for me, but he never actually explains it. You actually make me understand it. It’s... really cool. You make me feel smart, like I can actually learn this stuff."
Y/N’s stomach fluttered, a rush of warmth spreading through her veins. This was new. This was truly different. Gabriel never made her understand. He just did (or claimed to have done) things, without teaching or truly helping her grow.
The contrast between her conversations with Y/N and her interactions with Gabriel became clearer and clearer to Megan every single day. With Gabriel, it was easy laughter, surface-level fun, and big, obvious gestures that sometimes felt hollow.
He was charming, yes, and always there for a party or a quick favor, but Megan was starting to feel like he was playing a role, like he was always putting on a show for her and for others. With Y/N, it was deep. It was a thoughtful conversation. It was an intellectual challenge and quiet, steady comfort.
It was the feeling of being truly heard, truly seen, not just admired for her soccer skills or her bright smile. It felt real, truly real. Megan was slowly, painfully, starting to grasp the difference, a slow dawning of realization that was hard to ignore.
Y/N, on her part, began to notice Megan watching her, too, not just in passing glances. Sometimes, Y/N would be sketching in her notebook, or quietly humming a song under her breath as she studied, and she’d look up to find Megan’s gaze already on her.
It was a soft, thoughtful look that made Y/N’s cheeks warm and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the casual glance Megan gave everyone else, it was something deeper, more intense, a look filled with curiosity and a growing warmth that felt almost like a touch. It was a look that made Y/N’s heart pound a desperate rhythm against her ribs, a rhythm that was both terrifying and utterly exhilarating.
Then came the moment that felt like a quiet explosion, a turning point that would change everything, a conversation that echoed the exact pain Y/N had felt for so long from Gabriel’s thoughtless actions. They were sitting outside, on a surprisingly warm afternoon in late November, beneath one of those old mango trees whose roots twisted like ancient veins above the ground.
The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange and purple. They were talking about their dreams for the future, something Y/N rarely shared with anyone, especially not Gabriel, who usually just joked about getting rich and famous without much effort.
Megan was quiet for a moment, tracing patterns on the ground with her finger, a thoughtful frown on her face. Then she looked up.
"Y/N," she began, her voice low and steady, almost a whisper that carried immense weight. "Do you ever feel like... like you're talking to someone, but they're not really hearing you? Like they're just waiting for their turn to talk, or they only hear what they want to hear, or what benefits them?" She looked straight into Y/N's eyes, searching for understanding.
Y/N froze, her blood turning to ice, then back to fire, burning with a new kind of intensity. This was it. This was the conversation she’d always both dreaded and secretly longed for. It was the moment the hidden pain of years might finally be revealed.
"Yeah," Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper, the word catching in her throat, a lump forming. "Yeah, Megs, I know exactly what you mean. It's... it's really frustrating. It feels very lonely."
Megan nodded slowly, her eyes wide, searching Y/N’s face for understanding, for shared experience, for a sign that Y/N truly knew this feeling.
"With you," she said, her voice filled with a profound softness that made Y/N’s breath hitch, "it's never like that. You actually listen. You remember things I say, even the small ones. You… you just get me. Like, even the weird, small parts of me that I don't show anyone else. The parts that like poetry and get stressed about philosophy and worry about the future and what comes next." She paused again, then a small, sad smile touched her lips, a deep regret shadowing her eyes.
"I actually feel more like myself when I'm with you than I do... with anyone else. It's like I can finally breathe."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning, with years of hidden longing finally being acknowledged, even if Megan didn't fully realize the full depth of what she was saying, or the full impact of her words on Y/N.
Y/N’s heart was absolutely pounding. It felt like it might burst right out of her chest, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. This was everything she had ever hoped for, and everything she had ever feared. Megan was seeing her. Truly seeing her, for the first time. Not just as Gabriel's sibling, not just as a classmate, but as Y/N, the person who understood her.
Megan then sighed, a small, thoughtful sound, a new kind of doubt clouding her usual bright eyes. "It's weird," she continued, almost to herself, her voice tinged with a confusion Y/N recognized.
"Gabriel's great, he's so much fun, but... sometimes it feels like he's acting or like he's just playing a part that he thinks everyone wants to see. Like he just knows how to make everyone think he's thoughtful, but... it doesn't always feel real, you know? It's like a shallow pond, pretty but not deep."
Her eyes met Y/N's again, a hint of deep realization, and a touch of hurt, slowly dawning in them. "But with you, it's always real. Always. You’re... just you. And that's... everything."
Y/N could only stare back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, the emotions too big, too overwhelming to contain. This was everything she had ever hoped for, and everything she had ever feared.
The confession hung in the air, a fragile, beautiful thing, a delicate bubble that might pop if she breathed too hard. It felt like a missing piece of a puzzle had finally snapped into place, not just for Y/N, but for Megan too, revealing a beautiful picture neither of them had fully seen before.
Megan wasn't talking about romance yet, not with direct words, but she was talking about a connection, a deep, undeniable pull towards Y/N’s true self, a bond that ran far deeper than any superficial charm.
Her heart ached, not with sadness this time, but with a mix of hope and vulnerability. Hope that this quiet shift meant something more, something real and lasting. Fear that it might all disappear, or that the full truth about Gabriel, and Y/N’s own hidden feelings, would cause more pain than she could possibly bear.
Yet in that moment, under the old mango tree, with Megan looking at her with such raw honesty, with her usual dazzling eyes now filled with a new kind of wonder, Y/N felt hope bloom in her chest.
Megan might have believed the world's story about her and Gabriel, but her own heart, it seemed, was starting to whisper a very different name – a name that was, finally, Y/N’s own.
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cupid-diary · 2 days ago
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THIS ISN'T JUST A CRUSH | chapter 6
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SUMMARY she was the girl who once tripped over a chair leg and apologised to it. the kind of person you'd barely glance at twice in the hallway – funny? sure, but easy to miss. and then she disappeared. two years. no contact. now she's back! not to relive the past but to live loudly. she wasn't supposed to fall back into their orbit. they weren't supposed to start looking at her like that. but this isn't highschool anymore. and this isn't just a crush.
chapter 6 – boarding now. (written part 0.7k) | next`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹
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y/n didn't cry when she booked the ticket.
she didn't cry when she told her parents over facetime, didn't cry while sending in her transfer paperwork, didn't even cry when her acceptance came through and karina screamed so loud her neighbours knocked on the door.
but now, with the airport hours away and her suitcase wide open on the floor, it was starting to hit her. this wasn't a joke anymore. she was leaving.
the night before, karina offered her apartment without saying a word. the group just showed up. the same way they always did when something mattered - loudly, badly timed and with snacks. it was chaos from the second she walked in.
ningning was wearing sunglasses indoors as she braided y/n's hair, humming softly in between bursts of laughter and random tiktok quotes. yeonjun came armed with snacks and made everyone play music while he 'curated the vibe', which meant aggressively queuing up dance tracks that clashed with soobin's sad ballads. whereas soobin sat crisscross with a glitter gel pen in hand, scribbling onto a goodbye card that didn't feel real yet. beomgyu tried to sneak a collage of y/n's most embarrassing photos in her luggage for 'memories' he said. lastly, karina was sitting on the floor surrounded by three open makeup bags, making sure that you'll have a comfortable flight.
there were dumplings on the table. spilled glitter on the floor. spotify was playing that one playlist they made freshman year when everything sucked and the only thing that helped was dancing in the kitchen until their cheeks hurt from laughing.
they stayed up too late, way too late. they talked about everything – uni nightmares, old highschool drama, that one cursed guy from karina's philosophy class. but they didn't talk about the move. not until 2:43 am, when soobin quietly asked, "are you nervous?"
and y/n – wrapped in a blanket, sitting between ningning's legs as she continued to finish up your hair, whispered: "yeah. i think i'm scared they won't recognise you."
there was a pause. then yeonjun said in a comforting tone, "good. because that means you changed."
the next morning came too fast. her suitcase was overstuffed, her hair was a little frizzy and the iced matcha karina brought her tasted like both goodbye and "you better facetime us every damn night."
they all crammed into soobin's car and made the drive to the airport like a group on the brink of something they weren't ready for. the airport was cold. too bright. too real. y/n tried to keep it together, she really did.
but when karina pulled her aside by the check-in counter and pressed a polaroid photo into her hand – a blurry pic of all of them at 1 am, laughing so hard ningning was on the floor – she felt her throat close.
"in case you forget who you are," karina said, voice soft. "or who made you that way." y/n blinked fast. tears slipped anyway.
"you're allowed to miss us," ningning whispered, her hug too tight and too short. "just don't shrink back to fit into someone else's memory of you."
yeonjun held her like she was glass and mumbled, "make them fall so hard they write songs about you." a giggle between your sobs emitted.
soobin didn't say anything. just pressed his hoodie into y/n's hands and smiled. and beomgyu... goodness. beomgyu wiped his eyes and then yelled, loud enough to startle the nearby starbucks barista: "REMEMBER US WHEN YOU GET THERE AND MAKE AT LEAST ONE MAN CRY, I BEG YOU!" security turned. someone laughed. y/n was wheezing through her tears.
she made it to the gate on shaky legs, phone buzzing with their goodbye messages, cheeks sore from crying, heart stretched in all places they used to fit. she took a seat near the window and stared out at the runway.
her hands were trembling, so she reached for her phone and snapped a quick, blurry selfie – eyes red, smile soft and hoodie zipped all the way up. she sent it to the groupchat and they reacted instantly. then one by one, the typing bubbles came back and your notifications were flooded.
ningning✨: bitch i'm crying in the chipotle parking lot rn
rina💗: remember, you're so brave and beautiful. have a safe flight bby <33
yeonjuicy🍑: UR AN ICON ALWAYS KEEP UR HEAD HELD HIGH
feral child 🥸: go ruin a man's life and make it cinematic 🤪
soob 🤗: love you always! and let us know once you landed. now go be unforgettable 🧸
the speaker crackled overhead: "flight 082 to incheon international now boarding. group b, please proceed to gate 26." y/n stood and tugged her suitcase upright. took a breath and walked toward the gate like someone who finally remembered her own name.
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TAGLIST open @zoe1love @haechology @xoseraphinaa @ddolleri @downtoeden @hawarun @genericxseas @kristynaaah
𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.
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selfcarecap · 8 months ago
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I’m soo over all my literature classes already I love literature but I literally want the professor to die and I have her for all three lit classes
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shredsandpatches · 11 months ago
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I feel like I would enjoy my manuscript camp seminar more if it weren't almost totally dominated by a small group of people (which was not the case last year)
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irrepressible-miracle · 4 months ago
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milo-is-rambling · 2 years ago
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Who was gonna tell me that reading is fun sometimes
#I will bring shame to my eight year old self NO MORE!!!! I LIKE READING AGAIN!! YIPPEE!!!#I think I seriously enjoy reading about the brain and body and trauma like it’s so strange to spend two hours laying in bed with a book but#it’s so nice#I really enjoyed science growing up even into high school I just didn’t have the patience or motivation to finish essays#and my freshman year science teacher got fired halfway thru the year after they found out she didn’t have a teaching license and then my#class got split up into an advanced science teachers class who was way ahead of everything we had learned and then I hated the class and#science in general then in sophomore year I had another shitty teacher who didn’t care about teaching and I literally would find recourses#and send them to the teacher to put on the projector and then I would talk thru the resource that’s fucking real I literally had class#periods where I TAUGHT my sophomore year science class. GAHHHH I still get so bad at that fucking teacher I don’t even remember her name but#she pissed me off so bad cause she paired me with the two guys who always made fun of me just bc I was smart and they were annoying. anyways#depression and adhd and boredom happened and I almost failed that class but still passed in the end and then in junior year during covid#I was taking a biology class and an anatomy class that was supposed to be seniors (seniors did the advanced class and they offered regular#class to select juniors) and I ended up being the ONLY junior who wasn’t doing the advanced course. like. everyone else got assignments and#I had to ask hey what’s the easy version of that assignment cause I’m technically in the easy class even tho we’re in the same class period#and then Covid and I stopped caring at all about anhthing and then dropped out of school and moved down the entire coast so yknow.#I never stood a chance at being good at science but I’m realizing I might actually be passionate about it cause I have been since I was#little I just kind of ignored it and forgot but like. for one birthday I got a telescope and for one Christmas I got a microscope. like it’s#well known to everyone but me that I like science apparently oh my god what’s wrong with my brain !!!! anyways.#I like science now it’s weird to feel passionate about learning I haven’t done that in a long time#oh my god when I took my GED test my highest score was in SCIENCE AND NOT ENGLISH#THIS IS ALL SO OBVIOUS I LOVE SCIENCE WHY AM I NOT DOING SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE RELATED TO SCIENCE
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justinefrischmanngf · 2 years ago
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i have so much information about this random man’s sex life now because people in their late 20s LOVE telling me too much about their lives and i love listening to people be insane
#he was bisexual and boy did i get to hear all about his dilemmas of whether he should settle down with a man or a woman#i havent approved his request to follow me on instagram yet bc like listen . i have so much information about him now .#it feels Odd ! it does !!! he doesn’t know that much about me but he does know i haven’t ever been in a relationship which ALSO feels like#too much information……….#anyway idt he was flirting with me fr bc he has a woman who he’s seeing atm who he’s very into he tells me#but he did keep saying how beautiful i was which was very sweet but he kept being like ‘IN THE LEAST FLIRTATIOUS WAY but also i would but#also no but also ANYWAY UR BEAUTIFUL’ and it was fucking weird#anyway weird experiences i love being sober when everyone else is drunk i do genuinely think it’s so much fun#ALSO A GUY FROM MY FUCKING HISTORY CLASS WAS THERE???? horrible#i went to a gig alone and then a friend of a friend spotted me and asked if i wanted to come talk to HER friends#and then introduced me to this guy who is in my fucking classsssssssss#and then idk there were suddenly about 10 other ppl n one of them was the man who i now know too much about xoxo#i do now it seems . have a person to buy acid from if i ever want to do that though#anyway the band was actually kinda good n i’d love to see them again but idrk if i want to see everyone else that i talked to last night#again which makes it difficult bc most of them knew at least one person in the band#I DID get to meet the band and kinda sorta go out with them tho bc of this which was fun#lead singer was absolutely shitfaced and bought an $8.50 pie and i have never seen someone so horrified and happy at the same time#if anyone even thinks they know what band this is about or that they know me irl please unfollow immediately#except ofc the ppl who i have met intentionally irl <3
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deanpinterester · 2 years ago
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sometimes i think about the time i failed a midterm (and i mean failed in a literal sense, not like "aw i got a B+") while i was in an enriched high school program where everyone else was getting A's. in hindsight it should have been clear i needed help and i was struggling. but all the teacher said was to try harder next time
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minglana · 9 days ago
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i love my gardening teachers so much🥺im gonna miss them SO FUCKING MUCH next yr GODDDDDD😭😭😭😭
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nadvs · 3 months ago
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the power play (part one)
pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader
rating mature 18+
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summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.
tags college au. fake dating. grumpy athlete/sunshine tutor. reader is bubbly, talkative, and passionate about literature. very slowburn. he falls first. alcohol use. suggestive moments, but no smut.
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power play (noun)
an offensive tactic in a team sport; a deliberate attempt to manipulate someone.
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You hoped it wouldn’t feel the way it used to, but as you sit in the stands behind the home bench next to Lyla, it’s all the same.
You’re watching Beck zip across the ice with a painfully familiar sense of longing hammering into your chest. Falling for him always felt inevitable; you just didn’t expect that he wouldn’t be there to catch you.
When you and Lyla became friends in the ninth grade, you quickly grew close to her family, spending more time at their house than your own, tagging along to watch her twin brother’s hockey games.
The more you got to know Beck, the more you fell under his spell, charmed by his warmth, by every part of him that made him the most captivating person you’d ever met.
He stole your heart. Considering the way he treated you, you were sure you’d stolen his, too.
You spent most of last semester helping him with a class, even though you were in the same overwhelming throws of being a college freshman. Every study session in his dorm room drifted by with an undercurrent of certainty that he felt something, too.
It crushed you to realize that it’d all been in your head. A few weeks ago, you’d met him after his final exam, which he said he knew he nailed thanks to you.
You thought he was finally going to make the move that felt like it’d been hanging over you for years. But all he did was pull you into a side-hug and say, “You’re more of a friend to me than my own sister.”
Thinking about it still makes you cringe. You hate how weak you feel ruminating over this, trying to get over someone you were never even with.
It’s a Wednesday night two weeks into the spring semester, and you’re at the first home game you’ve been to in a while. Although you’ve always loved the loud, buzzing atmosphere of a hockey game, you’ve been staying far away from the campus arena and the man who hurt you.
You haven’t spoken to Beck. And he hasn’t reached out. What he did was an indirect rejection, his way of saying, It’s obvious that you like me and I need you to know once and for all that I don’t like you back.
Since then, every time your best friend has asked you to come to games or parties, you’ve told her you’ve been too busy, using your new position in a tutoring program as your excuse.
You prefer a distraction from Beck, and helping other students with a subject you’re passionate about has done the job.
But you can’t blow Lyla off forever, so now, you’re sitting with her in the stands among a small crowd of spectators.
The championship season begins in a month. Every seat will be full then. But you wish more people were around now. You welcome any noise to drown out your thoughts.
Everyone else cheers when Beck smashes the puck against the back of the net, securing the team’s first goal. You find it hard to join the celebration. Even though you’ve always thought of him as kind, you wonder if he could tell how much you liked him. If he consciously led you on.
For years, you’d watched him date other girls, hoping he’d finally realize you were the right one for him all along. You daydreamed far too much about him, imagining that he’d become your first boyfriend and take you on your first date and give you your first kiss.
The alarm blares to signal the end of the second period, pulling you out the haze you’ve fallen into a thousand times since that day in front of his exam room.
“You want to get some snacks?” Lyla asks.
“Sure,” you reply, doing your best impression of a girl with nothing weighing on her.
Once you walk up to the end of one of the arena’s concession stand lines, Lyla recognizes the people standing in front of you, greeting both girls with smiles and hugs.
Through introductions, you learn that Emma and Gabby are friends Lyla made at a party last semester. After some small talk as the line shuffles forward, Lyla points back to the rink.
“The seats next to us are empty if you want to sit with us,” she offers.
Emma and Gabby happily join you as you settle back in your seats soon after. You gaze ahead at the empty rink as they chat, the 3-1 score glaring above the ice in red neon numbers.
“No way the coach isn’t chewing them out right now,” Lyla says with a shake of her head.
“Why do you know on the team again?” Emma asks.
“My brother, Beck,” Lyla says. “You?”
Emma’s mouth twists into a tense smile.
“My ex,” she says, her voice lowering. “I wish he didn’t play, because I actually really love coming to these games.”
“Bad breakup?” you surmise.
“Brutal,” Gabby chimes in. You can tell by her expression that she’d supported her friend through the fallout.
“I just don’t want him to see me here and think it means something,” Emma sighs. “If he thinks that I want to get back together, it’ll be a disaster. We broke up a month ago and he’s still bothering me.”
You hardly know this girl, and you know her ex even less, but your reflex is to feel bad for him. You’re well acquainted with the pain that comes with caring about somebody who doesn’t want you.
“Oh, yeah,” Lyla remembers. “Rafe, right?”
Emma nods.
“Yikes.”
“Yeah,” Emma laughs.
The three girls share a knowing look, something unsaid passing through them.
You don’t know much about Rafe. On the rink, he’s a strong, aggressive defenseman, a sophomore who spends more time in the penalty box than any other player. You’ve seen him at a couple of parties, too, but never exchanged any words.
You don't understand the girls’ tense reactions to the mention of his name.
“What am I missing?” you half-whisper.
“You’d be missing nothing if you actually came to the parties I invite you to,” Lyla teases.
You can count on one hand how many parties you’ve been to since you started college. But it works for you. A party every few weeks is enough.
“I come when I can,” you reply, nudging her playfully. “Fill me in.”
“He’s a trainwreck,” Emma explains to you. “He has a million red flags that I ignored because I thought he was hot. Literally all we ever did was fight.”
“Yeah,” Lyla huffs, raising her brows. She looks at you. “Maybe it’s actually a good thing you don’t come to every party.”
You consider their words. They must have had a penchant for making a scene, shamelessly arguing in front of a crowd.
“I couldn’t take how mean and moody he was anymore. I dumped him and he won’t let it go.” Emma breathes a laugh. “It’s pathetic. He even called me crying the other night.”
Again, a confusing pang of sympathy for him hits you. It has to be your own heartbreak influencing you. You can’t imagine you’d normally feel bad for a guy described as having a million red flags.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“I’m over it,” Emma says carelessly.
“He’s not,” Gabby murmurs.
The players storm out on the rink again moments later, blades slicing the ice. They’re all so fast and powerful, and knowing that Rafe, the most forceful one of the group, is going through a version of the pain you are is oddly comforting.
A couple of minutes in, he gets thrown into the penalty box for charging an opponent. He skates to the opposite side of the rink, Cameron stitched across the black polyester of his jersey.
He stares at the floor as he waits out his penalty, tense, still. You think that if someone who looks so big and strong can hurt just like you, maybe you’re not as weak as you think.
════════
Rafe swings open the library entrance door with a scowl, irritated as hell that he has to be here. It’s annoying that the athletic department gives this much of a shit about players’ grades. Rafe knows he’s one of the best on the hockey team. He wishes that were enough.
Freshman year was fine, but he barely made it through last semester. He just failed his first assignment in a half-term literature course that was supposed to be an easy A.
Coach wasn’t pleased, saying it could screw up his GPA and deem him ineligible to play. Rafe tried to convince him that he’d do better on the next one, but Coach set him up with a tutor, unwilling to hear him out.
He’s already hardwired into a constant state of anger. Life has always been a storm, and now more than ever, there's no refuge in sight.
He's dealing with a coach who has no hope in him, on top of a painful breakup, on top of a shitty loss last night, on top of the fact that now he’s being forced to talk to a stranger about some boring book.
He can’t catch a break.
He looks at the email on his phone again. Study Room 205. He eventually finds the open door and taps his knuckles on it to get your attention.
You lock eyes with the person you’ve been waiting on for the last ten minutes. You had no idea who was coming up to meet you – just that the athletic department set it up.
But you know him. Or of him, at least.
A second ago, you were thinking about how you’ll have to ask whoever you’re meeting to be on time for future sessions. Now, your mind is consumed by the harsh words you heard about him last night.
“Hi,” you say politely. “Are you here for Lit Arts?”
He nods tersely in confirmation, stepping in. He drops his bag onto one of the empty chairs surrounding the square desk in the middle of the small room. You introduce yourself and when he sits down diagonally opposite to you, he murmurs, “Rafe.”
Discomfort swirls in your stomach. You’d heard something so personal about him at the rink, gazed at him in the penalty box from a distance, feeling like he’s a kindred spirit, and now you have to pretend like none of it happened.
“You’re on the hockey team, right?” you ask.
He realizes he’s seen you before. He can’t figure out where.
“Yeah.”
“I was at the game last night. Tough loss.”
Rafe doesn’t say anything. The clock ticks rhythmically. You clear your throat, figuring it’s best to skip the small talk.
“I took this class last semester. I know exactly how the prof grades, so you’re lucky to have me in your corner.”
Rafe is many things right now. Lucky isn’t one of them.
“Do you have your laptop?” you ask.
He unzips his bag and pulls out his computer.
“You can go to the course portal,” you tell him. He lets out an exhale as he navigates to the webpage. You lean closer to make sure that the class is currently on the book you brought with you.
You pull out your copy of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, page edges littered with different colored sticky tabs.
“Did you get a chance to start the book?” you ask.
He shakes his head. He’s not hiding that he really doesn’t want to be here. Nonetheless, you’re determined to crack him.
“Do you have a copy of it?”
“No.”
You nod slowly, picking up that he planned to coast through the class, not even bothering to buy and read any of the books.
“Do you like reading?” you ask.
“Nah,” he says with a grimace, as if he’s offended you’d assume that.
“You might like some of the books on the syllabus. This class is a lot of fun.”
“Fun,” he echoes with a stare that makes him look like he wants to bolt out of the door he just came through.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you reply with a smile. “Your idea of fun is skating around and getting slammed into walls. I should be the one judging you.”
He gazes at you like you’re from another planet, blue eyes hard on you. It’s nothing short of amusing.
You pull his laptop closer, hovering the cursor over the ‘My Grades’ tab, and ask, “Do you mind if I check how you did on your last assignment?”
“I bombed it,” he says.
As you gaze at the screen, Rafe clues in on where he’s seen you before. With one of the team’s freshmen.
Varsity athletes who live on campus are lumped together in the same dormitory block, and he’s seen you hanging around with Beck, going in and out of his room.
He wouldn’t consider Beck a friend. He’s a teammate and at best, an acquaintance. The guy’s a kiss-ass to Coach, and does everything by the book, skipping most parties and never drinking.
It makes complete sense that a rule-follower like Beck would date a good girl like you. Who the fuck calls a class fun?
You click to see his failing grade percentage for the first assignment of the semester in bolded red.
“Did you get any feedback on where you went wrong?” you ask. You know he’s going to shake his head before he does it. He doesn’t seem to care at all. “You have a whole semester to get your grade up. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not,” he replies stiffly.
“Well… maybe you should worry a little bit,” you say lightheartedly. “I know your coach is serious about grades.”
Rafe figures you must have heard that from your boyfriend. Maybe Beck took this class, too. It’s popular among busy student athletes because it’s supposed to be an easy way to fulfill a humanities credit.
He could just convince Beck to give him copies of his assignments. He’d have to change stuff around, but at least he’d get out of tutoring.
“Did you help Beck with this class?” he asks.
You’re taken aback by the sudden reminder of him, brows knitting together, a shift in your breezy demeanor.
“You’re his girl, right?” he says, as if it’s obvious.
“No. We’re– we’re friends.” You chew on your bottom lip. Tutoring is supposed to be a distraction from Beck, not the topic of conversation. But your curiosity burns in you and there’s no chance of putting it out. “Did he talk about me or something?”
“No,” he says, a bit too harshly for your liking. “I just figured ‘cause you’re with him all the time.”
“Right,” you say. All the time. Like a lost puppy, no doubt. Embarrassment pricks at your skin. “I helped him with another class. We’re friends.”
Rafe cracks his first smirk since he walked into this stuffy little room. You said friends twice, both times with uncertainty.
“You sure?” he chides.
“What?” you say stiffly. “Yes. I am.”
You crack open the book.
“So, A Portrait is about a man named Stephen who navigates the idea of identity,” you say quickly, trying to shake off your nerves. “We should look at the discussion question.”
You shut the book abruptly, then turn your attention to the laptop.
“You need to write a 1,500-word reflection for each book,” you ramble. “You’ll do better if you find a personal connection to the text. Maybe we start there.”
Rafe watches the nervous way your eyes dart around the screen as you scroll. His joke threw you into a tense, awkward panic that he has no interest in being around.
“You can relax,” he says. “I don’t care if you like him.”
You don’t look at him. You thought you were relaxed.
“Well, I don’t.”
You scroll to the question, one word in particular striking you.
What role does Emma play in Stephen’s growth and how he defines himself?
Of course. As if you needed another reason for this to be even more awkward.
Seeing Rafe’s ex’s name makes what she’d told you about him echo through your head again. Despite his teasing, the sympathy you felt for him comes back tenfold.
You know things about him that you shouldn’t. You feel a responsibility to balance the scales, but the air is too tense, the unfamiliarity too uncomfortable.
“Did you take a look at the question?” you ask.
He shakes his head, still slouched back. At this point, his apathy is starting to get to you.
“Listen, I can tell you don’t want to be here, but could you please try to meet me in the middle?” you say.
Rafe’s lips pull into a firm line, but he relents and leans closer to look at the screen. His body goes cold when he sees her name. He’d rather not be reminded of the girl who broke his heart right now.
“Emma is Stephen’s love interest,” you begin, trying to act like you don’t know a thing about his past relationship. “He sees her as something she’s not.”
You leaf through the book, finding a note you’d written in the margin.
“She represents idealization,” you read. You look up at him again. “Stephen sees by the end that she’s just a normal person, not this perfect girl he thought she was for so many years.”
You open a blank document on his laptop.
“We can write up some notes to start us off,” you say. “This prof grades high when you relate to the text. He likes the sentimental stuff, so until you read the book, that’s what we’ll have to work on.”
You chew on your lip again, unsure if you should bring up what you heard in the stands. It feels unethical either way.
“It doesn’t have to be a person,” you say. “It could be a place or an experience. Have you ever thought something was great and then realized it wasn’t?”
Rafe’s stomach is in a knot. The thought of being tutored and having his hand held through a class was bad enough. Now he has to get into his feelings with you?
“I don’t know,” he says.
You look at the blinking cursor, your head cocked in thought.
“Maybe relating it to a person would be easier, then?” you ask.
Nothing can make this easier. Rafe rakes his hair back, gazing down at your hands stalled over his keyboard.
“I get that this is awkward,” you say. “But it doesn’t have to be anything super personal. You could even make something up if you want.”
He only purses his lips, eyes fixed on your hands, as if he hopes you’ll give in and just do his work for him.
You take a deep breath and interlace your fingers on the desk. You figure that if you’re a little vulnerable, he might be, too.
He’s unknowingly feeling the same pain you are and saying the truth out loud to someone who gets it might even be a relief. There’s a risk of it getting back to Beck, but something tells you Rafe’s not much of a gossiper anyway.
“To be honest, yes, I like Beck. I thought he felt the same, but he doesn’t. Between you and me, sometimes I think he took me for granted and led me on. I idealized a friendship and it ended up hurting me. If this were my assignment, I’d relate to the book with that.”
Rafe is thrown off by your sudden honesty. It’s actually refreshing, considering all the bullshit he’s been dealing with lately.
He looks at you wordlessly.
“It’s just an example,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I did well in this class because I found pieces of myself in every book. All you need to do is read the material, find something you can relate to, write a decent report, and you’ll get a good grade. Well, that and prepare for the midterm and the final.”
“This class was supposed to be easy,” he finally says under his breath.
“Can you let me know when you’re going to be done complaining?” you ask playfully, looking up at the clock. “It’s been five minutes and you’re still going.”
Rafe huffs an almost-laugh. He adjusts his posture again, pulling at the collar of his hoodie.
“You really don’t have to be specific,” you reassure him. You tap your fingers over the keyboard again, just light enough to not press any buttons. “If you can relate the character of Emma to someone, you don’t have to say their name.”
Your eyes stay glued to the screen, your shoulders stiff as you wait. You’re acting weird again. The way you said Emma’s name looked like it pained you.
And it dawns on him.
“Should’ve known she’d talk shit,” he realizes. “What’d she tell you?”
“What?” you say, meeting his gaze.
“What did Emma say about me?” Rafe drawls, his deep voice reverberating through you.
Your lips part, but words refuse to form. For a guy that doesn’t like to read, he’s very good at doing it to you.
Rafe leans forward and rests his elbows on the desk. You can now see what makes him so intimidating on the ice. Every edge of his face is sharp now, apathy replaced with intensity.
“Nothing,” you reply. “It’s not my business.”
How did he not clue in before? If you run in the hockey team’s social circle, of course you heard about their breakup.
Emma never cared to keep things private. And you’re so willing to share your own personal stuff because you know more about him than you’re letting on. Because you pity him.
“Come on,” he scoffs, frustrated.
“I met her at the rink last night. She just mentioned you used to date.”
He shrugs impatiently, a silent request that you keep talking. You sigh.
“She said she likes coming to games, but it’s hard to because her ex is on the team.” You grimace. There’s no way you’d actually tell him all of it, all of the insults she muttered. “It’s not worth repeating, but… basically, she told me she broke things off and you won’t move on.”
Rafe nods, lips twisting. The way she’s been ignoring his texts and his calls to try to fix things stung enough. Talking to strangers to embarrass him hurts on an entirely different level.
He didn’t know Emma could be this cruel. This is mortifying. He’s done trying to make things work with her. No matter how hard the loneliness is hitting him.
You slide the book across the desk towards him, desperate to move past the tension.
“You can start reading,” you say. “And you don’t have to buy any of the books. I’ll just lend you mine. I’ll get some notes down for you to work from and you can do the personal connection part on your own.”
You start to type and immediately wonder if he’ll drop the class. You’ve never had that happen with someone you tutored before, but you wouldn’t blame him.
It must feel crappy to hear from a girl you don’t even know that your ex is saying bad things about you. A girl that you have to see every Thursday afternoon for the next three months.
Rafe cracks open the book in the middle to fan through the pages, a weight sitting on his chest. The pages are worn, words underlined, notes scribbled in the margins.
“You put this through the washing machine or something?” he murmurs.
“I’ve read it a few times,” you say simply. You keep typing.
Emma said he’d called her crying. It’s hard to imagine the man sitting next to you crying. It’s weird knowing something about someone that they wouldn't want you to know.
Rafe’s already bored with the first sentence. It’s long and confusing and completely uninteresting. His eyes drift up, absorbing the way your face softly creases in concentration as you type.
Now that you’re not talking at a thousand words a second, he can actually take you in.
You’re the type of girl he’d approach at a party. There’s no doubt about that. But once you’d start yapping about reading like you just did, about finding pieces of yourself in a book, he’d find a way out of the conversation.
Playing hockey at the college level is demanding; he likes the other things in his life to be fun and easy. Keeping up with a girl like you and pretending he’s interested in whatever you’re rambling about would be neither.
As he studies you, he doesn’t get why Beck friendzoned you. You’re pretty. And you’re the same type of person as Beck: straight-edge and so cheerful it’s annoying.
Rafe is typically one to outright say what he’s thinking, but he has the restraint to keep the idea he just had to himself. He needs to sleep on it. He’s done some crazy shit since Emma broke his heart and he’d rather not add to the tally.
You notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.
“You’re not thinking of dropping the class, are you?” you ask.
“No,” he says. His eyes stay on you for another beat, then find the words on the page again.
════════
You thought Rafe came to your first session in a bad mood. Compared to how you feel right now, he was peachy.
Lyla called you on your way to the library and mentioned in passing that her brother asked about you last night. She said Beck seemed like he missed you, all sympathetic when he asked, is she doing okay?
She’s oblivious to the real reason he brought it up. And it’s irritating. Because he doesn’t even ask you himself. Because he’s right. He knows that his passive rejection left a wound.
“You’re on time,” you say in surprise when Rafe saunters into the study room.
“You talk a lot,” he mumbles. “I’m not interested in a lecture after you told me not to be late.”
Despite your bad mood, you crack an amused smile. You’d ended last week’s session telling him that tardiness was not only disrespectful to you, but to his own academic success. He rolled his eyes, but he clearly listened.
Rafe settles in the same chair as last time, holding your copy of the book he was supposed to read.
“Did you read it?”
“Mostly.”
“What’d you think?” you say with hope.
“Boring.”
“Fair,” you say. You gesture for his laptop. “Let’s see how far you got on the report.”
Your brows drop in disappointment when you see how much he added to the file. It’s a bunch of pasted summaries and disorganized thoughts, taking up only half the page.
You eventually reach the end of your hour-long session and have him read over the assignment one last time before submitting it. You check the syllabus to confirm what the next book is, then shut his computer.
“Try to have more for us to work with next time,” you tell him. “And you should have the next book totally read by then, too, okay?”
You hand him your copy of Pride and Prejudice and push your seat back, ignoring his frustrated sigh.
“You talk to Beck lately?” he asks after a beat.
“What?” you say, face screwing up. You’re reminded all over again of what Lyla said. “No. Why?”
“You’re still pissed at him,” he says. He’s confident, coming to the conclusion himself instead of waiting for you to admit it.
“Why are you talking about this? We had a perfectly nice hour together,” you try to joke.
Rafe finally gives a voice to what’s been swirling in his mind since last week. He’s used to being mad, to feeling spiteful, but the way his ex broke his heart has never made him want revenge more. He wants to hurt her as badly as she hurt him. He wants to make her regret leaving him.
“We should get back at them,” he says.
“I’m sorry?” you say, your chin dipping as you stare at him.
“Hear me out,” he tells you. “We’re going to keep seeing Beck and Emma around, right? We could make it look like we’re better off without them. Make them jealous.”
You squint, waiting for the details. Rafe draws in a sharp inhale.
“She said I’m not over her, right? And you said he took you for granted. If they think we moved on, I bet at least one of ‘em will realize they fucked up.”
You consider it. Admittedly, making Beck think you’re perfectly fine – no, thriving – after his rejection is enticing.
“Okay, how do we get back at them exactly?” you ask.
Rafe scratches the back of his neck. It’s the first time he seems kind of nervous to you.
“We pretend we’re together,” he says.
“You and…” You look over your shoulder, because he must be talking to somebody else who snuck into the room at some point. “You and me? Together together?”
“I know. It wouldn’t ever happen.”
You can’t even be offended. He’s right. He’s a skilled hockey player and undeniably good-looking, but that’s where the compliments end.
Two afternoons of working together and making small talk have shown you that you have nothing in common. And frankly, while you do laugh off his bad attitude, it gets on your nerves.
A relationship would never work, let alone even begin.
“But they don’t know that,” he continues. “All they’ll see is that someone they lost is happy without them.”
Your mind starts racing. The years of pining over Beck, the pain of his rejection, the frustration over him asking his sister how you’re holding up. They’ve all left cracks in your heart.
The more Rafe thinks about rubbing his happiness into Emma’s face, even if it’s bullshit, the more he hopes you’ll be on board. But you’re not saying a word.
“If you’re not in, fine,” he sighs, pushing his chair back to start to leave. He should have figured you’d be too uptight to do it. “I’m just saying I bet you wouldn’t hate making Beck sweat.”
He stands up, but you hear yourself say, “Wait.”
Then you hold out your hand.
Rafe breathes an amused chuckle, flashing the first sincere smile you’ve seen on his face, when he realizes what you’re doing.
Your hand slips into his, touching for the first time to seal the deal and shake on it.
“This is insane,” you say. “Count me in.”
next >
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shy9-29 · 2 months ago
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I actually need a two faced jake where at school hes a sore loser versus when he’s alone with yn—complete menace. Biggest cocky flirt out there. At first, yn didn’t know much about jake until he bent her over and fucked the living shit outta her. I’m just down bad for Jake ok.
Two Faced, One Heart: Who is Sim Jake?
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심재윤 x reader
୨ৎ Two versions of Jake Sim—one the shy, clumsy boy who spills his coffee at school, the other the filthy-mouthed menace who had you shaking in his lap just hours before class—and somehow, you’re hopelessly addicted to both. ✉️ wc. 13.1k ⋆˙⟡ ⚠️ warnings : oral (both received), begging, teasing, cream pie, minor slut shamming, bullying, pet names, making out, swearing, harsh language, haur pulling, unprotected sex
📝: thats so fucking hot omg? I need jake so bad rn it’s not even funny
mndi · req open
———
The words come out before you can stop them.
“Do you think I could get Jake to fall for me?”
Your friends stare at you like you just confessed to having a crush on the cafeteria salad bar.
“Jake Sim?” Min gapes. “The guy who thanked the printer for working?” Jisoo raises a brow. “His Instagram only has twelve followers. Twelve. One of them is his dog’s account.” You try not to laugh. “Okay, but he’s kind of… sweet?” Min scoffs. “He wears socks with sandals.” You shrug. “Maybe I like that.” You don’t tell them that two nights ago, Jake had you bent over your tiny dorm desk, fingers tangled in your hair, voice low and smug in your ear while you struggled to stay quiet. Because no one would believe you.
Not when the Jake they know fumbles over his words in group projects and blushes when people look at him too long.
But you’ve seen the other side. The one who locks his door with a click and flips like a switch. You see him again the next day in class, right on time as always. Same oversized hoodie, same messy hair. He sits two rows behind you and doesn’t say a word.
You don’t look at him. Not really. But you feel him watching you. The weight of his stare pressed between your shoulder blades. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. Then, when you stand to leave, he brushes past you. Just a little too close. His fingers graze the small of your back—light, subtle, hidden. But it sends heat shooting down your spine. You catch up to him by the vending machines, just outside the library. He’s pretending to debate between orange juice and sparkling water.
You stop beside him. “Healthy choices.” Jake doesn’t look at you. “You wore that lip gloss again.” Your lips curve. “Maybe I like the flavor.” He reaches forward, selects a drink without thinking, and pays. His voice drops, just loud enough for you to hear. “I like it better off my tongue.” Your breath hitches. A pair of students walk past, one of them waving vaguely in Jake’s direction. He nods back with that usual shy smile, all harmless and mild-mannered.
The second they’re gone, his hand brushes against yours, fingers curling briefly around yours before letting go. You’re not sure your heart knows how to keep a steady rhythm around him anymore.
You didn’t know when it started—maybe it was the way Jake always sat in the back of class, quiet and unassuming. Or the fact that, every time you glanced at him, he never seemed to notice. He’d scribble in his notebook, the only sound in the room his pencil moving across the paper. You thought he was weird at first. Too quiet. Too in the background. The kind of person everyone else ignored. But there was something about him you couldn’t shake. The way his glasses would slide down his nose when he concentrated, or how he always wore the same hoodie, despite the weather.
The first time you spoke to him was after class. Your notes were mixed up, and you needed help with something—so you took a deep breath, made your way to him, and asked.
He looked up, startled. His cheeks went pink, and he mumbled something about being “kind of bad at explaining things,” but he agreed to help. That’s how it started. He was awkward. Shy. And he was perfect. You thought about him more than you should have, even as your friends teased you about how he was “just a soft loser” or “too quiet to ever be interesting.” But something about the way he treated you—how he never rushed you, never pushed, always listened—had you intrigued.
Then, the texts started coming. Small things at first—like a picture of a puppy he saw that reminded him of you. Or a random meme about books you both liked. They came at odd times, too. Late at night. In the middle of the day. And you found yourself looking forward to them, even though you knew he wasn’t exactly the “popular” guy at school.
One night, after a study session that stretched long into the evening, you both found yourselves alone in the library. It was just the two of you, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above, the scent of paper and coffee between you. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but he never did. Instead, he helped you pack up your things, careful not to touch you too much, but his fingers brushed yours when he handed you your coat. You thought you imagined it, the little spark that shot through your hand, but the way his eyes flicked to yours said otherwise.
“Uh, good night,” he mumbled, voice hushed. You smiled, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Good night, Jake.” You didn’t know it then, but that would be the night it all started to shift.
The next few weeks were a blur of fleeting glances, stolen moments. You’d catch him looking at you in class, only for him to quickly look away. Sometimes, he’d find reasons to walk the same path as you, his steps light, as if testing the water between you. And each time, the air between you would grow heavier, electric, like something unsaid was hanging in the space between your words. It wasn’t until one rainy afternoon that things finally tipped over the edge. You were on your way to the library when you spotted him standing under the awning of a building, looking at his phone. His hoodie was pulled up over his head, and he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the rain was starting to soak through the sleeves.
“Jake!” you called out, jogging over to him. “You’re gonna get soaked.” He looked up in surprise. “Oh, uh… I was just trying to figure out when the rain’s supposed to stop.” He smiled sheepishly. “I should’ve checked the forecast before heading out.” You shook your head, already pulling your umbrella out. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’re not standing out here getting drenched. You’re walking me to the library.”
He hesitated, then smiled, a soft, shy grin. “Okay.”
You shared the umbrella, walking side by side. The world outside was blurred by the rain, everything muted except for the sound of your shoes on the pavement and the occasional brush of his elbow against yours. It felt casual, but something about it—something about him—made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
When you reached the library, you both stood under the awning for a second, the warmth of the building just inside. You were both still close, the air between you thick with unspoken things.
And that was when it happened.
Without saying a word, Jake leaned in just enough to let his breath ghost against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I walked you to class every day, would you still act like I’m invisible?” he whispered.
Your heart skipped, and you didn’t know how to respond. You didn’t know what to say, or what he was really offering. But you knew, in that moment, everything between you had shifted.
And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.
But you wanted to be.
You’d never seen Jake without his glasses.
The guy everyone knew—shy, reserved, a little awkward—was always framed by those round lenses. It was part of his quiet charm, the way they softened his features, how he hid behind them like a shield. No one really saw the guy underneath, the guy who barely made waves, who faded into the background of every class.
Until today.
You hadn’t expected this when you got the text. “Roommate’s out. You wanna come over?”
It wasn’t anything crazy. It could be a quiet hangout, maybe some late-night studying. But there was a strange feeling building in your stomach, something telling you that tonight might be different.
When you knocked on Jake’s door, you barely had time to brace yourself before it swung open.
And there he was.
Jake, standing there, no glasses. He was wearing contacts, and the difference hit you immediately. His eyes, normally hidden behind lenses, were now wide open, sharp, clear. They looked darker somehow, and for the first time, you saw something in them that wasn’t there before. Confidence. A kind of intensity that threw you off guard.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice smooth, low—nothing like the awkward, stuttering Jake you were used to.
“Hi,” you replied, unsure of what to say, suddenly aware of how close he was standing.
Jake stepped aside, letting you into the room. You took a quick look around—same dorm, but the vibe was different. The room was tidier than you expected, clean, almost meticulous. No clutter, no random piles of clothes or books. It felt… like a space where Jake had control, where things were on his terms.
“You can sit wherever,” Jake said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was an edge to it now, something about the way he stood that was different from the usual quiet guy you saw on campus.
You sat on the edge of his bed, but you didn’t know where to look. His eyes were still on you, and the way he watched you made the air between you feel thick, charged.
He took his time, like he wasn’t in any rush. “You didn’t expect this, did you?” Jake’s voice was quieter now, almost like he was daring you to admit it.
You shifted slightly, trying to act casual, but it was hard. “No. I didn’t think you’d be like this.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of shy, soft smile you were used to. It was different. “Like what?”
You hesitated, but then shrugged. “I don’t know. More… sure of yourself. Less… nervous.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, and there was a flash of something dark in his eyes. “You think I’m nervous?”
You nodded slowly, testing him. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve always been… kind of quiet.”
Jake took a step closer, his expression unreadable now, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not shy. Just don’t feel the need to put on a show for anyone. And I don’t think you’re stupid enough to believe I’m some clueless guy.”
You stayed silent, suddenly aware of how close he was now, how his presence filled up the space between you.
He was different tonight. No hesitation. No awkward stutter. Just… Jake. But the version of him that you never saw—sharp, self-assured, and unbothered by anything or anyone around him.
“Want to see how different I am?” he asked, his voice lowering, the question hanging in the air.
You barely had time to process before his fingers brushed your arm, the simple touch making your heart race. And just like that, you realized you weren’t ready for the change that was happening between you—but you were already in too deep to turn back.
You weren’t sure what you expected when you agreed to come over, but it wasn’t this.
Jake leaned against the wall in front of you, and for the first time, you felt a shift in the way he held himself, like there was something between you that wasn’t there before. His gaze didn’t flicker away from yours, and his posture was different. He was comfortable—too comfortable, and it made the room feel smaller, hotter.
You opened your mouth to say something, but Jake beat you to it, his voice low and steady. “You don’t look at me the same way you used to.”
Your chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
His smirk deepened. “You’re looking at me like you’re seeing me for the first time. Like I’m not just the quiet guy in the back of class.”
You tried to ignore the way his words made your pulse pick up speed. He was right, and it unsettled you more than you wanted to admit. The Jake you knew was always reserved, always hiding behind his quiet act. But the Jake in front of you now? He was different. More sure of himself. More… commanding.
Before you could find the right words, Jake pushed off the wall and closed the distance between you. He didn’t touch you at first, but you could feel the heat coming off him. You took a shallow breath, the air between you thick with tension.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
You shook your head, but you could feel the unease building in your stomach, creeping up your chest. It wasn’t nerves—it was something else. Something new. Something dangerous.
He seemed to sense it, that tiny shift in your energy, and it made him lean in closer. “You can admit it,” he whispered. “I won’t bite.”
Your lips parted slightly at the sound of his voice, thick and low. There was nothing innocent about him now. You could see it clearly. This wasn’t the guy who stumbled over his words or blushed at the slightest attention. This was a version of Jake you hadn’t been prepared for.
And now that you were seeing him—really seeing him—you weren’t sure you wanted to turn away.
Jake’s hand came up to touch your chin, his thumb brushing over your skin with purpose. He tilted your head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he was dying to solve. His touch was slow, deliberate, and it made every nerve in your body stand on edge.
“Do you like this?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing along your jawline. “Do you like seeing me like this?”
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you found yourself staring at him, watching how his eyes flickered with something darker, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
“I don’t know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake’s smirk only grew, and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t a soft kiss, the kind you were used to. It wasn’t gentle or cautious. No, this was different. This was hungry. It was messy. He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment, like he couldn’t wait any longer. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips parting against yours as if he was trying to steal every breath from your lungs.
You let him. You let him pull you in, let him show you what he was capable of when there was no one around to see it.
When he pulled away, just enough to let you catch your breath, his eyes never left yours. There was something predatory in his gaze now, something that made your pulse race.
“You’ve been looking at me for a while,” Jake murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You never thought I could be like this, did you?”
You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for something to say, but all that came out was a shaky breath.
Jake smiled, that same smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll show you just how different I can be.”
And that was when you realized—there was no going back now.
Jake’s lips hovered just inches from yours, his breath mixing with yours, the tension in the air making every nerve in your body feel alive. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you could see the way he was waiting for you—waiting for you to decide how far you wanted to go, how far you were willing to let things shift.
You had never seen him like this. The quiet guy you knew had been replaced by someone far more confident, far more intense. His hand was still resting at the back of your neck, and the way his thumb traced small circles against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
He didn’t kiss you again right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you, watching for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you weren’t ready. His thumb grazed your jaw again, this time a little firmer, almost as if he was marking his territory, making sure you knew he was in control now.
And then, without warning, he pressed his lips against yours again—but this time, the kiss was slower. It was deeper, more deliberate, as if he was savoring it. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours.
You tried to breathe, but it was hard. It felt like the world was closing in around you, leaving only the two of you in that small, charged space. You couldn’t focus on anything except the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands shifted, each touch sparking a new wave of heat in your body.
He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice low, gravelly. “I told you… I’m not the guy you thought I was.”
You nodded, your throat tight, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You could barely process what was happening. Everything about this felt different, so different from anything you’d imagined. The shy, awkward Jake had been replaced by someone who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted.
His lips trailed down to your neck, and the soft press of his mouth against your skin made your breath catch in your throat. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands never straying far from you. The warmth of his touch spread through you, and you felt your body responding in ways you hadn’t expected.
“Jake,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traced along your collarbone.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something primal. “Tell me what you want baby?” His voice was barely audible, but it cut through the fog in your mind.
You didn’t know how to answer, not with words. You had never been this close to him, not like this, not with the air crackling between you like it was about to catch fire. The way the pet name slipped so easily from his mouth made your pussy clench around nothing. But the look in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze, made something stir inside you.
Without thinking, you leaned in again, your lips pressing against his. This time, there was no hesitation. You kissed him back, a little harder this time, both groaning into the kiss as if you were trying to prove something—prove that you were ready for whatever came next.
Jake didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands slid lower, around your waist, pulling you even closer. You felt the heat of his body against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hands were firm, confident as they explored the curve of your back, the tension in your muscles, the way your body responded to him. 
Every inch of space between you seemed to vanish, and soon there was nothing but the heat, the closeness, and the feeling of his hands on your skin.
For the first time, you weren’t sure if you were in control anymore—or if you ever had been.
Jake pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked at you with that same intense gaze. There was something in his eyes—an unspoken challenge, a promise of something you couldn’t quite yet name. You could feel the tension building, heavy in the air between you, thickening with each second that passed.
He reached up slowly, his fingers brushing the collar of his shirt, and your heart skipped a beat as he pulled it over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. The movement was casual, effortless, like he’d done it a thousand times before. His muscles shifted under his skin, the soft light of the room catching the contours of his body, and it was like everything about him felt real now—far more than you ever thought.
You couldn’t help but stare, your gaze tracing over the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. There was no trace of the shy, reserved guy from before. Instead, he stood there—bare, exposed—looking at you with a calm confidence that made your pulse race.
Jake didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His eyes spoke volumes as they flickered to yours, waiting for you to respond, to make the next move.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight of him, suddenly feeling a shift, a hunger building within you that mirrored his own. It was a quiet power, a tension you could feel in your very bones.
Jake’s eyes never left yours as you stood there, frozen for a moment. The air felt thick, charged, as if time had slowed down, and the weight of his gaze made everything around you fade into the background.
He stepped toward you, his chest still bare, his body moving with a kind of fluid confidence that made your pulse spike. Each step he took seemed to make the space between you shrink, until you were once again within inches of him. He didn’t rush. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low, steady. The question hung in the air, but there was no hesitation in his tone—only the calm certainty of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.
Your throat tightened, and you nodded, though words seemed impossible to find. The only sound in the room was the quickening rhythm of your breath, mingling with his.
Jake’s hand reached for the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin as he lifted it, gently pulling it over your head. You let him, your heart pounding in your chest, your skin heating under his touch. He didn’t rush, his hands tracing the curves of your body with careful attention, like he was memorizing every inch of you.
When your shirt finally joined his on the floor, he stepped back slightly to take you in, his gaze sweeping over your exposed skin. His eyes darkened further, a look of quiet admiration in them, but there was something else there too—something predatory, possessive.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the words low but full of meaning.
You could barely process what was happening, but the way he said it—like he was claiming you, and yet somehow honoring you at the same time—made your chest tighten. His hands were at your waist now, pulling you closer again, and his lips found the curve of your neck. He kissed you there softly, his mouth warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
As he kissed you, his hands moved lower, slowly, deliberately, until he was holding you, guiding you gently toward his bed. There was no rush, no urgency—just the feel of his strong hands, the weight of his body against yours, and the soft pressure of his lips as they trailed down to your collarbone.
Jake was taking his time, savoring the moments. He wanted you—he was showing you that much, but he was also letting you see a side of him that no one else got to experience.
And as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving your skin, you felt a kind of surrender that you couldn’t explain. He was confident, sure of every move he made. But so were you.
This was new. You were new.
Jake’s lips found the delicate curve of your neck, and you inhaled sharply as a wave of warmth flooded your body. His kisses were slow, teasing, each one leaving a faint, tingling trail on your skin. You could feel his breath against you, warm and steady, as he placed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive spot beneath your ear.
His hands, still resting on your waist, tightened their grip slightly, pulling you closer to him. Every movement was deliberate, purposeful, as if he was in no rush to get anywhere, wanting to savor every moment.
“You’re such a good girl,” Jake murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough. The words sent a shiver down your spine, stirring something deep inside you. His praise, soft yet commanding, made your heart race even faster, the air between you growing thick with desire.
You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body reacting to the way his voice made you feel—like you were exactly where you needed to be, like you were his.
Jake smiled against your neck, the words lingering in the air. “So good for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the spot again. You could feel the confidence in his words, the way he was claiming the moment, claiming you. The heat that had been building between you both was undeniable now, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was no longer the shy, quiet guy from school.
This was Jake. The Jake who knew exactly what he wanted—and wasn’t afraid to take it.
The room felt smaller now, even with the space around you. The air was thick with a quiet tension, a sense of something inevitable hanging between you two. Jake was no longer standing across from you, maintaining that careful distance. He was close—too close—and it was clear that neither of you wanted to back away.
You could feel the pull of him, an invisible force that seemed to draw you in, making it impossible to ignore the heat that had been simmering between you both. You’d known this feeling, this desire, had been building for weeks. But now it was no longer just something you could push aside, something you could pretend wasn’t there.
“Do you trust me?” Jake’s voice was soft, but there was a weight to it, a seriousness that sent a ripple of excitement through you. He was close now, his chest nearly brushing yours, and the way he spoke made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity.
You nodded, unable to find your voice for a moment, the words lost in the heat of the moment. Jake smiled—genuine, a little wicked—and his hand reached out to guide you toward the desk.
The desk that had become a symbol of something you didn’t even fully understand yet. He placed his hands on your hips, his touch firm but not rough, leading you with careful, deliberate steps. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the edge of the desk against the back of your knees.
He stopped, his lips grazing the side of your neck as he whispered, “Stay still for me baby.”
There was an undeniable force in the way he held you, a promise in his words. Your pulse raced as your hands rested against the cool surface of the desk. The room was suddenly quieter, the sounds of your breaths louder than anything else.
Jake stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath ghosted over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. There was a certain thrill in knowing that he was completely in control, that he was in charge.
His hands moved with purpose, sliding from your hips up your sides, lingering over the curve of your waist, tracing slow circles over your ribs. You wanted to press back against him, to feel the weight of him against you, but something kept you still, some tiny shred of self-control.
Jake's hands moved higher, fingers trailing over your collarbone, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. His touch was firm, possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You wanted to arch into him, to feel the weight of his body against yours, but you kept your hips planted against the desk, fighting the urge.
Jake's lips traced a path down your neck, and you could feel the smile on his face as he spoke, his voice low and rough. "You're doing so well for me," he murmured.
The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice shaky and desperate, "I need to feel you-need your cock."
You could feel him smirk against your skin, his hands tracing slow, teasing circles over your hips. "You that desperate, you slut?" he scoffed, his words like a taunt, a challenge.
Jake's words sent heat coursing through your veins, the sound of your own whimpering catching you off guard. It was a sound of desperation, of need, and it betrayed a vulnerability you hadn't meant to show.
But he heard it. Of course he did. He was so close to you, his body pressed against yours, and there were no more secrets between you.
You could feel the anticipation building, the air around you thick with tension. Jake's hands moved with purpose, tugging at your skirt, and it came down in a swift motion, pooling around your ankles. He took a step back, giving you space, and for a moment, you were left standing in just your underwear.
Jake's eyes darkened as he watched you, the desire in his gaze unmistakable. He moved closer again, crowding you against the desk, and you could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, the way it made your skin prickle with anticipation.
You looked back to see Jake stroking his already leaking cock, letting out a low groan in the process. You could feel a smirk form on his lips as he shoves your panties aside. “Jesus yn, you’re dripping.” His words brought a throbbing sensation to your pussy, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth. “Jake…please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.” The heat in your body was almost unbearable now, your words little more than a ragged breath as you plead with him, "Fuck, Jake." It was like all the thoughts had slipped away from you, replaced by a pulsing need.
Jake didn't hesitate. He was still gripping your hip with one hand, his other wrapping around your waist as he pulled you back against him. There was no more waiting, no more teasing. He was hard and ready, and you could feel it pressed against you, and you were slick and wanting, and you couldn't take it any longer.
With a low, guttural groan, Jake slammed his cock inside your soaked cunt in one motion, causing you both to let out the filthiest sound. 
“fuck, look at you,” jake groaned quietly, fingers spreading your ass apart. “such a filthy little thing, huh? letting me use that pussy mouth like it’s all you’re good for.”
his hand is tangled in your hair now, not tugging—just resting there, warm and heavy, like a crown you’ve earned. you try to stay quiet, knowing that the building has thin walls, spit pooling and dripping down your chin as your rhythm falters under the weight of his words. “Jake, it feels go good—“
“quiet,” he snaps softly, and your lashes flutter as you obey.
good. obedient. ruined.
“that’s it, baby. show me how good you are at taking my cock,” he says, voice almost tender if not for the filth of it. “can’t even breathe right, but you don’t care, do you? you love it too much. love being my perfect little toy.”
you whimper around him, and it makes his hips stutter. his thighs tense.
his control cracks just a little.
“god, you’re so good for me. fuck, baby—so fucking perfect.”
he grits his teeth, hand tightening just slightly in your hair. “no one else gets to see you like this. no one else can. only me.”
your jaw aches. your throat burns. but still, you don’t stop. “this pussy is made for me,” he continued, throwing his head back. “Fucking made for me yn.”
Jake was losing control, his words coming out in sharp breaths. He'd never spoken to you like this before, never so openly, so shamelessly filthy. Your mind was reeling, the sensations overwhelming as he took what he wanted from you, his words only fueling your own desire.
“J-Jake- too much.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “And you love it.” he grabs onto your waist gently. 
You help fuck yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. y/n..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.
You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed taking on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.
He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out any further moan yet. 
His hips move faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every thrust. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— gonna… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle. 
You don’t get to say anything—your body gives out before your voice can even catch up. Your thighs tremble around him, and you’re a mess in his lap, clinging to him like he’s the only thing grounding you. The sound you let out is raw, louder than before, and Jake just leans back in his chair, watching you fall apart with that smug, wrecked grin of his.
His hands tighten around your waist, keeping you moving even as your body begs for mercy. He’s not letting go—not yet.
“You’re not done,” he mutters low against your throat, lips brushing your skin. “Not until I say so.”
You try to respond, but it’s all heat and haze now. Your chest presses against his as your head drops to his shoulder, and he doesn’t stop—he guides you through every slow grind, every twitch of your body that draws another gasp from your lips. His voice is rough, breathless, right in your ear.
Then his body jerks beneath you, and the way he holds you after—tight, possessive—tells you everything you need to know. His hand slides up your back as you both sit there, the room thick with the aftermath, your bodies still tangled.
You think it’s over. You think maybe now he’ll let you breathe.
But then his grip shifts, and he pulls you right back down onto him, your body jolting at the sudden contact.
A gasp leaves you, and his laugh—low and dangerous—rumbles against your collarbone. “Still so sensitive,” he teases, brushing your hair back as he presses a kiss just below your ear. “Thought you could handle me.”
Your arms drape around his neck again, head buried against his skin, and all you can do is hold on. You kiss the sweat-slicked curve of his jaw, trying to catch your breath while he stays buried deep, unmoving, content to just keep you there—full, overwhelmed, and completely his.
And with one hand still steady on your hip, Jake casually slides his chair back toward his desk, like it’s just another night—like you’re not still trembling on top of him.
Just before he grabs his headset, he whispers, “You should hear yourself.”
By the time you got back to class Monday morning, it was like nothing had ever happened. Or at least, that’s how Jake made it seem.
There he was, slouched in his usual seat at the back of the lecture hall, hoodie half-zipped, glasses perched slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose. He was typing away at his laptop like he hadn’t just had you moaning his name into the crook of his neck two nights ago, skin flushed, bodies tangled.
He glanced up as you walked in. His eyes found yours for a second too long—and then he looked away, pretending to be distracted by something on his screen. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile.
You took your seat a few rows ahead of him, and a minute later, you felt the faintest buzzin your pocket.
“I had fun.”
You turned around. He was staring at his laptop like he hadn’t just texted you that. Like he hadn’t just ruined you on that same voice he used to answer class questions with a stutter.
Jake was still quiet in public, still awkward. He still pushed up his glasses too often and knocked over his water bottle when reaching for his pen. But now, there was a glint in his eyes every time he looked at you. A silent smugness. A private joke only the two of you knew the punchline to.
And when your professor called on him to answer a question, and he stumbled over the words “data structure,” turning slightly pink, you thought—no one else in this room had a clue. No one knew that he’d whispered “stay still for me” against your skin like a command. That the same clumsy guy blushing in front of the class had told you with a dark smirk, “such a good girl, you took me so well.”
You looked over your shoulder again. Jake met your eyes, and this time, he didn’t look away. Just popped a piece of gum into his mouth, chewing slow, gaze steady. And then he winked.
You almost dropped your pen.
You tried to keep it to yourself—you really did. But your friends had spent the last ten minutes at your table giggling over Jake like he was some weird cryptid.
“I checked his Instagram again,” Yuna said, sipping her iced coffee. “He lost a follower. And he posted a blurry picture of a squirrel once.”
“Do you think he even knows how to use Instagram?” Soojin added, snorting. “He gives off ‘my mom made this account for me’ energy.”
You bit your lip, trying not to smile too hard.
“What?” Yuna asked, eyes narrowing at you. “Why are you smiling like that? Don’t tell me you actually think he’s hot.”
“I don’t think he’s hot,” you said slowly, stirring your drink.
They leaned in.
You sighed, leaning back in your seat, glancing over your shoulder out of habit.
“Okay,” you whispered. “This doesn’t leave this table.”
Yuna and Soojin practically vibrated with anticipation.
“I went to his dorm,” you started, voice low. “A few nights ago. His roommate was gone. And he wasn’t wearing glasses. He had contacts in. And he—” you hesitated, heartbeat picking up. “He was acting completely differnt. And we kinda.. you know.”
Yuna let out a dramatic gasp. “No way.”
Soojin cackled. “Shut up. Jake? Jake Sim and y/n fucked?”
You nodded slowly, lips twitching.
“And?” Yuna prompted. “And? What, did he trip over his desk accidentally slip his dick into you?”
You hesitated. “We, uh… no…”
Both of their jaws dropped—and then they burst into laughter.
“No, no, you’re joking,” Soojin said, leaning into Yuna for support. “Jake? Jake had you—what, bent over his gaming chair while his twelve Instagram followers cheered him on?”
“I’m serious,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s not—he’s not how you think he is. Not when we’re alone.”
“Okay, now you’re just making it sound like he’s Batman,” Yuna snorted. “By day, he’s a bio major with a screen protector on his calculator. By night—”
“Hey.” A voice cut in behind you.
You froze.
Yuna’s eyes widened.
Soojin slapped a hand over her mouth.
You turned your head slowly—Jake was standing there, tray in hand, his expression unreadable. His glasses were on, hoodie loose, hair a little messy like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Hi,” he said, voice calm, like he hadn’t just caught you mid-confession.
You blinked up at him. “Jake.”
He looked at your friends, then back at you. “You forgot your charger last night.”
He placed it next to your drink, eyes flicking down to your hand for half a second.
“Thanks,” you said, voice quiet.
Jake gave you a lazy smile—barely there, but you knew it. You knew that look now. He turned, walked away like nothing happened, headphones already around his neck.
You turned back to your friends.
Their mouths were hanging open.
“…You’re not joking,” Yuna said flatly.
“I told you,” you whispered, trying—and failing—to hide the grin pulling at your lips.
Your friends were still frozen, processing, as Jake walked off toward the other end of the café like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb and left you to deal with the aftermath. He didn’t look back, but the slow, smug drag of his steps made it very clear—he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I…” Yuna blinked. “Was that your charger?”
You nodded, sipping your drink to hide your smirk.
Soojin finally found her voice. “Did he say last night?”
You nodded again, this time a little slower.
Both of them let out the most synchronized gasps you’d ever heard in your life.
“Girl,” Yuna whispered, leaning across the table like she was afraid someone would overhear, “what the hell is going on? That’s not even—Jake? Like, Jake Sim? He’s—he’s a meme. We literally made a Bingo card of the number of times he trips in the hallway!”
“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the warmth in your cheeks. “And apparently, he’s also capable of blowing my back out while explaining the difference between RAM and ROM.”
Soojin shrieked. “Stop!”
You were laughing now, the kind that bubbles up and won’t stop. It was ridiculous. All of it. And yet, every time you thought about the way he kissed you—like he knew what he was doing, like he’d been waiting for the right moment to show you—you felt your knees threaten to give out.
“Okay,” Yuna said, gripping your arm. “So, wait. Is he, like… your boyfriend now? Or is this just an elite phase?”
You opened your mouth—then closed it again.
You hadn’t even thought that far.
Jake hadn’t said anything official. No labels. No talks. Just quiet texts. A stolen charger. A wink in lecture. And the memory of him whispering in your ear, voice low and breathless, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “But I don’t think this is just a one-time thing.”
At that exact moment, your phone buzzed again.
“also, I meant every word I said to you”
Your head snapped up. Across the room, Jake was seated with his laptop open, headset slung around his neck, biting into a sandwich like the most innocent man alive.
Your stomach flipped.
This menace. This liar. This actor.
Your thumbs hovered over the screen, a mix of embarrassment and fondness curling in your chest.
“you’re actually evil”
“i hate you”
“i hate that i don’t hate you”
A beat passed.
“you’re cute when you fluster. wanna come over after chem?”
Your friends didn’t even need to ask who you were texting. They saw your face and groaned in unison.
And for once, you didn’t even deny it.
Jake was a master of the double life. You didn’t know how he did it, but it was like he could flip a switch whenever he stepped foot in the hallways of the university.
In class? A complete disaster.
The shy, bumbling guy you’d always seen—his glasses slipping down his nose, tripping over his own feet as he made his way to his desk. He’d stammer when he spoke to the professor, barely making eye contact with anyone, and was always the first to look down at his phone when group discussions came up. The Jake everyone saw was awkward, quiet, and somehow endearing in his nerdy way. The one who sat by himself in the cafeteria, fiddling with his notebook, hoping no one would notice him.
And yet, you knew. You knew there was something more beneath that awkward exterior. Something darker, something confident. You’d seen it for yourself, just two nights ago. The quiet guy who barely spoke a word in class had turned into a completely different person behind closed doors.
But here, in the hallway, between classes, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that same Jake was the one who had you shivering under his touch, whispering praises into your ear like he owned you.
You were walking past his usual spot in the library when you caught him fumbling with a stack of books, his face scrunched up in concentration. He didn’t notice you at first, too focused on his task. But when he looked up, the usual blush crept up his neck, and his mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Hi,” you said casually, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You need help with those?”
He gave a nervous laugh, adjusting his glasses and dropping the books onto the table like his hands suddenly didn’t know how to hold them anymore. “Uh, yeah, no, I—um, I got it. Thanks, though.”
You could barely contain your laughter. Here he was, this guy who had literally whispered praises in your ear only days ago, looking like a total mess in front of you. He couldn’t even manage eye contact without turning an embarrassing shade of pink.
“So,” you said, leaning against the bookshelf beside him, your arms casually crossed. “You been doing any more squirrel photography lately?”
Jake froze, his face flushing deeper. “Uh, n-no,” he stammered, grabbing his books a little too quickly. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was like watching a completely different person. Gone was the guy who had held you close, kissed you with authority. Gone was the guy who made you forget everything when his lips were on your neck. Now, he was just a bumbling mess, avoiding your eyes, looking everywhere but at you.
“You’re so weird,” you teased lightly. “You know, I’ve been wondering… is it really the glasses, or is it the awkwardness? Which one is the real you?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He just looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and—was that a hint of guilt? Like he had a secret he didn’t want anyone to know.
“Never mind,” you said with a smirk, walking away from him. “Keep up the good work, loser.”
You could feel him watching you, probably frozen in place, but you didn’t care. It was almost unbelievable how different he could act when it was just the two of you alone in a room. The guy who couldn’t make it through a simple conversation in public had turned into the man who made you forget your own name when he had his hands on you.
But for now, all you could do was shake your head and laugh, marveling at how Jake was pulling off his double life—completely clueless and completely in control, all at once.
The cafeteria went silent the moment you walked past your usual table and headed straight for his.
Jake was sitting alone, as usual—tray of barely-touched food in front of him, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands like he was trying to disappear into himself. He was hunched over his phone, earbuds in, completely unaware of the social earthquake that was about to hit.
You plopped down across from him without warning.
His head snapped up. He blinked, startled. “Wh—uh… hey?”
Conversations around you dipped, and you could feel the whispers starting. Not subtle ones either. Real, full-body turns. Eyes darting. Forks pausing mid-air. People whispering you’re joking, is that Y/N? and she’s sitting with him?
You just smiled, opening your drink like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Relax,” you said, lowering your voice and leaning forward just a little. “You’re acting like I just declared war on the entire social order.”
He pushed his glasses up and blinked a few times. “You… you don’t usually—uh, sit here.”
“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “But today I felt like sitting with my favorite academic weapon slash secret menace.”
Jake choked on his water.
You grinned. “Also, I think I’ve figured you out.”
He swallowed hard. “F-Figured me out?”
“Yup.” You tilted your head at him, keeping your voice low and teasing. “I think your glasses are what activate your awkward personality. Like a switch. You wear them? Jake the human embodiment of a shy turtle. You take them off? Boom. Total menace.”
His ears turned pink. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual but failing completely. “They’re prescription…”
“And yet they’re also your disguise,” you smirked.
Around you, the buzz of conversation slowly picked back up. Everyone was still sneaking glances, but they were getting bored now that you weren’t making out on the table or confessing your love with a boombox overhead. One by one, people returned to their own lunches.
And that’s when he looked up at you—and really looked.
The second your audience was gone, the timid act melted off his face like it had never existed. His back straightened. His expression shifted, eyes sharpening just a little, mouth tugging into that familiar slow smirk that made your stomach flip.
“You like the glasses?” he asked, voice lower now, smooth and lazy.
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden switch.
He leaned forward on his elbows, gaze steady and annoyingly smug. “You think that’s what keeps me from bending you over this table right now?”
You nearly choked on your drink.
“There’s the menace,” you muttered, eyes narrowing as your pulse spiked.
Jake smiled like he’d just won something. “You came to my table, remember?”
“And now I’m questioning everything.”
He laughed under his breath, picking up a fry from his tray and tossing it into his mouth like he had all the time in the world.
“Too late,” he said, chewing. “You already made your choice. Better hope no one figures out what I look like without the glasses.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you threatening me?”
He grinned. “I’m warning you.”
And just like that, he went back to sipping his water, glasses slipping again, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. Back to harmless, quiet Jake.
But you knew better now.
So did he.
You were two seconds away from dragging Jake by the collar.
He sat stiffly next to you on the couch, surrounded by your friends, looking like someone who’d just been dropped into a completely foreign dimension. His hoodie was zipped all the way up to his neck, hands tucked into his sleeves, legs pressed together like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible.
Your friends were trying. God bless them, they were.
“So, Jake,” Yuna said, passing him a slice of pizza. “What are you majoring in again?”
Jake blinked. “Um. Bio.”
Silence.
Soojin tried to jump in. “Cool! Are you doing like, pre-med or something?”
Jake stared at the pizza in his lap like it personally offended him. “No.”
You gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. He flinched. “I, uh… I just like cells.”
More silence.
You shot him a look.
Jake gave a weak smile. “Cells are nice.”
You excused yourself to the kitchen before your soul could physically leave your body from secondhand embarrassment. Jake followed, like a lost puppy—but once the two of you were out of earshot, you whirled on him.
“Are you serious right now?”
Jake blinked innocently. “What?”
“You’re acting like a scared freshman at their first club meeting. Can you just…” You groaned, tugging him by the sleeve. “Be normal. Be you. The you that had me on my knees last weekend.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You want me to flirt with your friends?”
You narrowed your eyes. “I want you to act like you’re not a socially-anxious squirrel.”
He leaned against the counter with a little too much confidence now. “Babe, I already got what I wanted. I don’t need to charm your friends.”
You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “If you keep acting like a brick wall, I swear to god I’m not giving you head again.”
Jake blinked.
Then he straightened.
“You wouldn’t.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
There was a moment of silence. He stared at you like you’d just ripped the moon from the sky and thrown it in his face.
And then—he sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
You watched him walk back into the living room, a defeated slump in his shoulders. But right before he sat down again, he glanced back at you and mouthed, rude.
You just smiled sweetly.
You watched him march right back into the living room like a man on a mission. No hoodie shielding his face, no sleeves hiding his hands—Jake dropped onto the couch next to Yuna like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just been threatening to pretend he didn’t know the English language five minutes ago.
“So,” he said casually, draping one arm along the back of the couch. “Y/N tells me you guys stalked my Instagram.”
Your head snapped up.
Yuna blinked, caught. “W-What?”
Jake smirked. “Twelve followers and still managed to bag your friend. Pretty impressive, right?”
Your jaw dropped.
Soojin choked on her drink.
Yuna looked like she’d just short-circuited.
“I mean, I don’t post thirst traps or anything,” Jake continued, tone light but clearly enjoying himself. “Y/n says I should.”
You were frozen. You hadn’t even known he could talk in complete sentences around your friends, let alone roast them.
He glanced at you mid-sentence, lips twitching. “What? You said be normal.”
“This is not what I meant by normal,” you hissed under your breath.
Jake only smiled wider.
“I mean,” he said louder now, eyes gleaming, “Y/N didn’t really stand a chance. She was obsessed with me from the moment she saw me trip over a recycling bin.”
You stared at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. The duality of this man was actually insane.
“You’re the worst,” you muttered, but your voice was shaking with barely contained laughter.
He leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other like he’d been doing this all his life. “I prefer ‘underrated.’”
Soojin blinked at you, stunned. “Is this the same Jake?”
“Sadly,” you deadpanned.
Jake stretched his arms overhead, smirking like he’d just won something. “Told you. Glasses on—loser. Glasses off?” He looked at you over the rim of his drink. “Problem.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.
Because he was right.
The conversation shifted, but Jake didn’t shrink back like he normally would. In fact, he leaned in. Tossed out a few sarcastic remarks, made a joke about the weird guy in your chem lecture, and even stole a fry off Yuna’s plate like he’d known her for years.
You sat there stunned, barely able to process the whiplash of it all.
At one point, Soojin gave you a look—eyebrows raised, lips parted like girl…—and you just blinked back, equally bewildered.
Jake caught the exchange, of course. He always did. He leaned over toward you, his voice dropping low, just for you to hear.
“Still mad at me?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You didn’t look at him. “You’re skating on very thin ice.”
He chuckled softly. “You threatening me again?”
You smirked, finally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t threaten, Jake. I warn.”
That seemed to only encourage him. “You know I love when you talk like that.”
You elbowed him under the table, but he didn’t even flinch—just grinned like the menace he was.
Eventually, your friends began packing up their things, saying goodbye, and heading out one by one. Jake stayed close beside you, still riding the high of finally breaking his “awkward loner” act in public.
As the room cleared, he bumped your shoulder lightly. “So… did I do good?”
You stared at him. “You did too good.”
He raised a brow, amused. “Jealous?”
“No,” you scoffed, gathering your stuff. “More like terrified of the monster I just unleashed.”
Jake slung his bag over his shoulder, his grin never fading. “Told you. You’re the one who wanted me to be social. You made this happen.”
You paused at the doorway, giving him a long look. “You’re still not getting head tonight.”
He laughed, following close behind you. “Liar.”
God help you—he was right again.
Jake walked you back to your dorm with a bounce in his step, like he hadn’t just caused a minor social earthquake in your friend group. You kept glancing over at him, trying to find even a trace of the shy, fumbling version of him your friends had always known—but nope. Gone. Completely replaced by this smug, way-too-proud-of-himself creature strutting beside you like he’d just won an Oscar.
“You seriously said ‘bagged your friend,’” you muttered, shaking your head.
Jake shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I was being honest.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirked, leaning closer so his shoulder bumped yours. “But you love me anyway.”
Your heart did a weird little skip, but you masked it with a scoff. “Mm, debatable.”
He laughed, but you could tell he noticed the way your ears flushed. Jake always noticed. Which made it all the more dangerous when he decided to push.
“You sure?” he said lowly, glancing at you sideways. “Because if I remember correctly, few nights ago you were practically begging—”
You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish. “Don’t you dare say that sentence out loud.”
Jake’s laughter vibrated against your palm, and he licked it just to be annoying.
“Jake!”
“What?” he said, completely unbothered, mouth curling into that damn smile again. “I’m just saying, you seemed pretty in love with me when you were—”
“I swear to god, I won’t let you cum tonight.”
He grinned. “Still wouldn’t change what happened on my desk.”
You groaned, unlocking your door and stepping inside, not even bothering to push him out. He followed like he lived there, already dropping his bag on your floor and toeing off his shoes.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you muttered, tossing your jacket on the chair, “but I kinda miss socially awkward Jake.”
Jake leaned against your desk—the very one he had completely ruined you on—crossing his arms with a smug tilt of his head.
“I’ll bring him back next time we’re around your friends,” he said sweetly. “Wouldn’t want to scare anyone.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re the worst.”
He took a slow step toward you. “And yet…”
You backed up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. Jake caged you in without touching you, just that cocky little smirk inches from your mouth.
“…you keep letting me in.”
Your breath hitched.
You hated how right he was.
He didn’t even have to touch you—just standing there, close enough to fog up your brain, was enough to make your breath catch. That same smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips like he knew. (And he did. He always did.)
You crossed your arms, trying to look unaffected. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”
Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Didn’t say we were.”
“You were thinking it.”
He grinned. “Can’t a guy hang out with his girlfriend without being accused of crimes?”
You blinked. “Your what?”
Jake froze for half a second—just enough to catch it—then played it off with a shrug, looking entirely too casual. “You. My girlfriend.”
“Jake,” you said slowly, “we haven’t even been on a date yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and?”
You stared at him.
He held your gaze, deadpan. “We’ve had sex on your desk.”
Your mouth opened, then shut again. He just kept going.
“I’ve had my tongue in you. Multiple times. You think a coffee date is gonna make it moreofficial?”
You smacked his shoulder, cheeks burning. “You’re insane.”
Jake smiled, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “You’re stuck with me now. Might as well give me the title.”
You rolled your eyes, but your hands found the hem of his hoodie anyway, fingers curling there.
“This better not mean I have to start posting you on my story.”
“Oh no,” he teased. “Anything but that.”
You sighed. “Fine. One date. But you’re planning it.”
Jake smirked, already way too pleased with himself. “Good. I was gonna make you fall in love with me anyway.”
It became… a problem.
First it was your friends catching you two making out in the library stacks. Then it was the quad. Then the empty art building stairwell. At one point, Yuna dramatically threatened to carry a spray bottle in her bag just to spritz you both like misbehaving cats.
You tried to tone it down. Really. But Jake had this stupid, unfair ability to get under your skin with just one look. One whisper. One brush of his hand against your lower back when no one was watching.
And then there was the incident. The one no one dared to speak about—but everyone knew.
You’d followed Jake into the men’s washroom between lectures, heart pounding, brain nowhere near your upcoming lab. One minute you were teasing him red, leaking tip with minor kitty licks, the next—A very unfortunate and traumatized TA walked in at the exact wrong time.
To this day, you’re not sure who was more horrified: you, Jake, or the TA who immediately did a full 180 and walked straight back out without a word.
Jake couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t show your face in that building for a week.
Now every time you pass that hallway, he leans in with a whisper and a smug, “Wanna relive the glory days?”
You elbow him. Hard. But your ears still burn.
Because the worst part? You absolutely do.
You hadn’t even had a chance to settle into the cozy atmosphere of a movie night with Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo before everything went to hell.
It was supposed to be a simple night. You, Jake, and his friends, chilling on the couch, watching some random movie Sunghoon picked out after a few too many awkward silences. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for this, maybe even looking forward to getting to know his friends better. You’d heard so much about them, and Sunoo had been sending you memes for weeks now, always so sweet and teasing.
But instead of a normal movie night, you ended up on Jake’s lap with your lips pressed to his, unable to hold back as he slipped his hands beneath your hoodie. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and you completely forgot about the stupid film Sunghoon had started. All that mattered was the heat building between you and Jake, the sound of his breath against your mouth, the way he was slowly getting bolder, moving his lips to your neck—
And then, the unmistakable sound of a throat clearing from across the room.
You froze, eyes widening, and pulled back from Jake just as Sunghoon and Sunoo exchanged awkward glances.
“Well,” Sunghoon said, adjusting his glasses with a little too much casualness, “This is… an interesting way to start a movie night.”
You sat up quickly, heart racing. “We—uh, we weren’t—”
Sunoo cut you off with a laugh that had a slightly knowing edge to it. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. But wow, didn’t think I’d be walking in on this so soon.”
You could feel your face heating up, but Jake, the menace, only smirked, his arm still casually draped around you. “I was just showing her how comfortable the couch is. Isn’t it nice, babe?”
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at that, glancing between you two. “Comfortable, huh? Good to know.”
Sunoo chuckled. “I guess I’m glad we finally got a front-row seat to Jake’s ‘split personality.’” His voice dropped to an exaggerated whisper, adding, “Who knew the shy, awkward guy could get so… intense.”
You looked at Jake, whose eyes were practically glowing with mischief. You knew exactly what that meant.
“I told you guys,” Jake said, sliding his fingers through your hair, his voice low and smooth. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger. Not just with the whole ‘studious boyfriend’ act.”
Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head. “I’m just here for the popcorn, but whatever you guys are doing, you’re definitely ruining the vibe of the movie.”
You swore you could feel the heat radiating from your face, but Jake was entirely too smug, his hand never leaving your waist. “Movie’s overrated anyway,” he said with a wink. “Better company right here.”
The tension in the room was palpable, but somehow, you knew this was just the beginning. Jake wasn’t about to stop teasing you in front of his friends, and now they definitely knew what he was like when he wasn’t playing the quiet, shy guy.
It had been exactly one month since you and Jake made things official, and somewhere along the way, he had somehow charmed all your friends.
Yuna, especially.
What started off as teasing glances and snarky comments turned into him greeting her with “What’s up, my other girl?” in front of literally everyone—like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You’d laughed the first time. Sort of.
The second time, your smile was tight.
By the third, you didn’t even look at him. Just turned around, grabbed your bag, and left without a word. The silence that followed was deafening.
He texted. Called. Showed up at your dorm with snacks, guilty puppy-dog eyes, and one of your hoodies you’d accidentally left at his place.
You didn’t budge.
Not when he spammed you with voice memos or when he got Sunoo to send you dramatic apologies on his behalf. Not even when Yuna told you that Jake had asked herhow to fix it, which was ironic in the most painful way possible.
A week passed. You were starting to miss him—his touch, his stupid jokes, the way he looked at you like you hung stars in his sky—but you were petty, and prideful, and notabout to forgive him over something as dumb as a nickname that made your stomach twist.
But Jake knew you. And Jake never lost.
The night you finally gave in, he showed up to your dorm without a word, eyes dark, hands careful. He didn’t ask if he could stay. Just got down on his knees, pulled you to the edge of the bed, and showed you how sorry he was.
You didn’t even realize your fingers were tangled in his hair, hips shaking as he flicked your clit around with his tongue, breath caught somewhere between a moan and a sob.
By the time he looked up, lips swollen, pupils blown wide, your legs were trembling and you couldn’t remember what planet you were on.
“Still mad at me?” he asked, voice hoarse, a little smug, but mostly sincere.
You tried to speak, failed. All you could do was blink down at him.
He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Good. Because you’re my only girl.”
And yeah—he won. Again.
The next morning, Jake acted like nothing happened.
He was sprawled across your tiny dorm bed, hair a mess, hoodie half-off his shoulder, munching on the cereal you kept strictly for late-night study stress. Like he hadn’t just given you an out-of-body experience twelve hours ago.
You stood at the mirror brushing your hair, shooting him a look through the reflection. “You’re really just gonna sit there like you didn’t have me literally sobbing last night?”
Jake grinned around a spoonful of cereal. “I figured you forgave me when you couldn’t feel your legs after.”
You tossed a hair tie at him. He dodged, laughing.
“You’re lucky I didn’t call you a cab,” you said, turning back around.
“I am lucky,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “but not just for that.”
You paused. Met his eyes.
Jake set the bowl aside and stood up, crossing the room to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder, voice soft. “I’m sorry for the Yuna thing. I thought I was being funny. I didn’t realize it hurt you.”
You didn’t respond right away. He held you tighter.
“You know I only want you, right?”
You nodded, finally. “You’re still an idiot.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m your idiot.”
You rolled your eyes, but leaned into him anyway, the tension finally melting.
Later that day, Yuna raised an eyebrow as you walked into the café together, hand-in-hand with Jake.
“Back from the dead?” she teased.
Jake smirked. “Had to perform a little resurrection.”
You buried your face in your drink. Yuna just laughed.
“Oh god,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me it was head.”
Jake shot her a look. “Mind-blowing head.”
You choked.
“Please stop speaking,” you begged.
Jake just kissed your cheek and pulled you closer.
You really were doomed.
You’d completely forgotten your parents were in town until you got the text while Jake was still whispering absolute filth into your ear in the café line.
[Mom]: Just landed. So excited to see you, sweetie! Brunch tomorrow? Bring your boyfriend!
You choked on your iced americano so violently Jake had to pat your back.
“Everything okay?” he asked, smirking like he already knew it wasn’t.
You turned your phone around to show him the message.
He blinked. “Wait. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Like—your parents tomorrow?”
“Yes, Jake. My parents. Brunch. You. Me. And them.”
He stared at you for a full three seconds, then grinned. “I’ve already got the button-up shirt in mind.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re way too calm about this.”
“I’m amazing with parents.”
“You’re amazing at pretending to be someone’s quiet, innocent boyfriend. That’s not the same.”
Jake leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby. They’ll love me.”
“You’re gonna wear your glasses, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Act like you’ve never touched me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll act like I don’t even know what a woman is.”
You snorted, already stressed. “This is going to be a disaster.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Nah. I’m gonna charm them. Just like I charmed you.”
You turned to give him a look. “You charmed me by blowing my back out in a library storage room, Jake.”
“Exactly,” he said, way too proud.
You groaned.
Tomorrow could not come fast—or end—soon enough.
The next morning, Jake showed up ten minutes early to your dorm, looking like he’d walked straight out of a K-drama.
Crisp white button-up, hair brushed neatly off his forehead, his glasses perfectly in place—he even brought your mom’s favorite pastries, like he’d been studying your family’s group chat for weeks.
“You look…” You blinked, slowly dragging your gaze down his outfit. “So well-behaved.”
Jake smirked, tucking the pastry box under one arm and reaching for your hand. “Don’t worry. I left the demon version of me in your sheets.”
You nearly tripped on the way out the door.
Your parents were already waiting at the little brunch spot downtown, and as soon as your mom saw you, she lit up—then caught sight of Jake behind you and blinked like she was seeing a puppy dressed in a tuxedo.
“This is Jake?” she asked, already halfway through hugging him. “You’re even cuter than she said!”
Jake laughed, soft and shy, adjusting his glasses. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s really nice to meet you.”
You sat stiffly across from them, fully prepared for the absolute chaos that was surely coming, but Jake? He played the role like he’d been training for it all his life.
He complimented your mom’s earrings. Asked your dad smart, boring questions about work. Even waited until you were done speaking before cutting into his food.
It was unsettling.
“Jake’s in my organic chem lecture,” you said at one point, trying to keep the conversation neutral.
“Oh, is he any good?” your dad asked.
Jake smiled bashfully. “She usually tutors me, actually. I’m a bit hopeless when it comes to chemistry.”
You almost choked on your orange juice.
Your mom beamed. “I love that. I always told her she’d be such a good teacher.”
Jake nodded sincerely, resting his hand on your knee under the table, subtle and grounding. “She’s been teaching me a lot.”
Your stomach flipped for a very different reason.
By the end of brunch, your mom was begging him to come over for dinner “next time we visit,” and your dad gave him a shoulder pat like he’d just been accepted into the family.
As soon as you were out of earshot, walking back toward campus, you smacked his arm. “You manipulative little bitch!”
Jake grinned, holding up the box of leftover pastries like a trophy. “They love me.”
“You were lying through your teeth!”
Jake shrugged. “It’s not lying if I really do think you’re amazing at teaching me things. Like patience. Self-control.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a menace.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping in close, voice low in your ear, “your mom just called me boyfriend material.”
You shoved him. “You are never seeing my parents again.”
“Sure, baby. You tell yourself that.”
And yeah, fine—he was boyfriend material. Just not the kind your parents had any idea about.
That night, you laid in bed scrolling through your messages while Jake sat cross-legged at the foot, shamelessly eating the last of the leftover pastries your mom had insisted he take.
Your phone buzzed again.
[Mom]: He’s adorable. Polite, smart, and that accent?? Keeper.
You rolled your eyes so hard your soul almost left your body.
Jake leaned over your shoulder. “What’d she say now?”
You turned the screen toward him. He read it, then bit into a croissant like he’d just won a championship.
“I am polite. And smart. And my voice is sexy, apparently.”
You deadpanned. “You’re a literal demon. With glasses.”
Jake leaned down and nuzzled against your neck with the fakest innocence he could muster. “You weren’t saying that when I was—”
You slapped a hand over his mouth. “No. My mom said ‘keeper.’ Don’t make me reevaluate.”
He laughed into your palm, biting it lightly before you yanked it back. He flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out with a satisfied sigh like he’d just wrapped up a performance of a lifetime.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded. “Winning over your friends, seducing your parents…”
“Manipulating the entire population,” you muttered.
Jake turned his head, smirking. “But only for you.”
You tried not to melt. You really did. But then he pulled you down beside him, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the warm curve of his body.
“You know,” he whispered, voice dropping back into that cocky, devastating register, “your parents think I’m this sweet, respectful, glasses-wearing boyfriend who can’t even pass chem without your help.”
You blinked up at him, breath catching.
He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “And they’ll never know what their daughter sounds like when she’s underneath me, begging.”
You slapped his chest with a muffled laugh, face buried in his shirt. “You’re the worst.”
Jake just grinned against your temple.
“I’m yours.”
The next morning, Jake was already pulling on his hoodie, his bags—stuffed with random clothes, books, and a few things that had slowly found their way into your dorm—strewn across your floor.
You sat up in bed, the lingering warmth of his body beside you still making your heart flutter. It had become a regular thing now—Jake staying over, bringing more of his things each time, settling into a routine that felt strangely comfortable. It was a mixture of affection and chaos, and you loved every minute of it.
“You should’ve just left your stuff here last night,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Could’ve saved us the trouble.”
Jake smirked, looking up from rummaging through his backpack. “Don’t want to seem too comfortable too soon, babe. You know, I’ve still got that mysterious ‘bad boy’ act to keep up.”
You rolled your eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what you’re going for.”
He shot you a wink, tossing a hoodie at you. “Anyway, can’t let the world see the ‘good boy’ too much, can I?”
He was back to his cocky self, the guy who showed up to school acting like the confident, teasing Jake you had come to know, and honestly, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he flipped between his personas.
You both left the dorm and started the walk to campus, his hand in yours, the usual mix of comfortable silence and random teasing that filled your daily routines.
Just as you were about to walk up the steps to your building, Jake, always the graceful disaster, tripped on the stairs and sent his coffee flying across the sidewalk.
“Are you serious?” you asked, blinking in disbelief.
Jake stood there for a second, coffee splattered all over his hoodie and the ground beneath him, looking utterly stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You couldn’t stop laughing. “Every time. I swear to god, you’re like a walking disaster.”
Jake turned to you, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to play it off. “I meant to do that. Just making sure everyone’s paying attention.”
“Yeah, you definitely got their attention, Jake,” you teased. “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone saw your epic performance.”
He shot you a grin, wiping at his clothes like it would make a difference. “I’m not a loser. I’m just… trying to get a reaction.”
“And you definitely got one,” you snorted, taking his hand and leading him inside.
Even though he tried to play it off as cool, the truth was, you were starting to see a side of Jake that was a little more… normal than you first expected.
And as ridiculous as the whole thing was, there was something about it—the balance of confident teasing and hilarious clumsiness—that felt right.
At least, for you and him, it did.
You nudged him with your elbow. “You gonna be okay, or do I need to get you another one before you wither away in front of me?”
Jake groaned dramatically. “I needed that caffeine. My whole personality relies on it.”
You laughed as you pushed open the lecture hall doors. “Your personality is currently soaked into your hoodie.”
Unfortunately for Jake, your shared class had already started to fill up. A few people looked up as you both walked in—him with wet coffee splatter down his front, you trying not to laugh loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Is that Jake Sim?” someone whispered behind you.
You heard a snort. “Why does he look like someone’s intern who just got fired?”
Jake sat down beside you with a huff, dropping his bag and whispering, “This is the most humbling morning of my life.”
You rached over, wiped a little splatter off his sleeve, and leaned close. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He blinked at you, caught off guard. “Wait. You think I’m cute even like this?”
You grinned. “I think you’re cute especially like this.”
Jake slumped in his chair, defeated but amused. “I’m literally a walking split personality. Demon boyfriend at night, clumsy nerd by morning. This isn’t sustainable.”
“You say that like I’m not completely obsessed with both versions.”
He paused, looking at you with that soft, wide-eyed gaze he got when you caught him off guard.
“Yeah?” he said, quieter this time.
You nodded, bumping your knee against his. “Yeah.”
Jake smiled down at his ruined coffee cup.
“Still not over the fact I tripped in front of like thirty people though,” he muttered, and you snorted so loud the row in front of you turned around.
At least now, everyone knew—Jake Sim might’ve been a quiet loser to the rest of the campus, but to you?
He was everything.
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perm taglist: @kristynaaah @firstclassjaylee @chvconn3 @wonzzziezzzz @sheseung @blvengene @gvtdoll @a3r4-for3ver @sunghoon-cam @luvksnn @aaaaarmiiiiin @blckorchidd @gyulune @marimariiisblog @pinknjm @bloomiize
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yuujispinkhair · 3 months ago
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NERD!SUKUNA HEADCANONS - Part 1
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). College AU. 2k words 18+, fluff + smut (Sukuna has some dirty fantasies about Reader. The actual smut will be in Part 2). "Enemies" to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is shy and struggles with her grades. Sukuna is a genius but bad at feelings ;) Minors don't interact. Divider @/.lacedolliee. Credit for the super sexy fanart of Nerdkuna goes to my sweet friend @winterrbluess. The pic was used with Winn's permission 🖤 You asked if someone could write a little something about your fave sexy nerd, and I couldn't resist ;) I hope you'll enjoy it!
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Nerd!Sukuna, who looks like a bad boy but is actually at the top of all his classes and a huge nerd when it comes to his studies and his various interests. Very intelligent, passionate, and hardworking. Sukuna always wants to be the best in everything he does.
Nerd!Sukuna, who could be one of the most popular guys on the whole campus if he wanted to, with his good looks and impressive height and fit body. But he keeps everyone at arm's length, not giving a fuck about popularity and not wanting to get distracted from his academic success.
Nerd!Sukuna, who once beat up a football player who tried to make fun of Sukuna's passion for all things history-related, and ever since that day, no one dared to bother Sukuna again.
Nerd!Sukuna, who is arrogant and condescending and thinks (rightfully so) that no one is fit to hold a candle to him. He is constantly looking down on everyone around him and would rather spend his free time perfecting his skills and studies than doing something useless.
Nerd!Sukuna, who hates group projects and prefers to work alone because everyone else is just holding him up, and Sukuna has to control all of their steps to fix their mistakes.
Nerd!Sukuna, who rolls his eyes in annoyance when he gets paired up with you for an assignment. A shy little thing whose name he never heard before, which means you are definitely not playing in the same academic league as him.
Nerd!Sukuna, who towers over you with his backpack slung casually over his broad shoulders and his tattooed face cold and hard when he informs you that he expects you to work hard and not fuck up his grades, or he will make your life hell.
Nerd!Sukuna, who is fully convinced this will be a disaster when he sees you wring your hands nervously and promise him you will work your ass off for this assignment because you really need a good grade so you can pass.
Nerd!Sukuna, who is a control freak who plans everything ahead and, therefore, doesn't let you have a word on how often you meet or when or where. He doesn't like having people over at his place, but he invites you over anyway because his kitchen table is his favorite place to study.
Nerd!Sukuna, who fixes you with a stern look through his nerdy glasses as he shoves a huge stack of books across the table, informing you he expects you to read all the needed information, which he already marked for you with various color-coded sticky notes. "Because you probably don't even know what we need for this assignment."
Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how thoroughly you work and by the questions you ask him, which let him know you aren't as dumb as he thought.
Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how you hang on his lips when he explains stuff to you, clearly impressed by his detailed knowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he intentionally lowers his voice a bit more, just to see you get all nervous when he is talking in such a husky way, almost as if he isn't explaining political intrigues in the Heian era to you but rather telling you what he wants to do to you in his bed.
Nerd!Sukuna, who finds devilish joy in seeing how flustered you get around him and how clearly intimidated you are by his tall and broad body and his tattoos and arrogant attitude.
Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit (only to himself) that getting paired up with you isn't too bad because at least you give your best, and you are actually kind of cute. The kind of sweet, shy girl who usually doesn't cross paths with him.
Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself watching you during study time in his kitchen or in the library. He tells himself he is just checking if you really do your work, but his gaze mostly lingers on your glossy lips, which wrap around your pen while you focus on something or on your nose, which looks super cute when you scrunch it up in confusion.
Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't one to brag because he thinks that is something for losers, but he can't help but mention casually some of the academic awards he already won just because he is getting addicted to the buzzing in his veins when he sees the way you gulp hard and get all shy and cute on him, muttering something about how you struggle to even stay in college.
Nerd!Sukuna, who usually loves to be a little sadist and make fun of people who have bad grades, but somehow, he can't bring himself to do that when it comes to you.
Nerd!Sukuna, who instead surprises himself by reaching out and ruffling your hair, telling you that he will help you with your studies.
Nerd!Sukuna, who forms a strange little companionship with you, almost looking forward to your meetings and even preparing an extra plate of snacks for you.
Nerd!Sukuna, who usually isn't someone people would refer to as nice, but who drops his arrogant and mocking attitude at least a little when he is in his kitchen with you and instead jokes around with you and feels his heart throb weirdly when you get his humor, and laugh about his even most sarcastic remarks.
Nerd!Sukuna, who likes it when you come out of your shell more and more, joining in on his playful teasing or telling him about your favorite books and shows.
Nerd!Sukuna, who accidentally overhears you telling your classmate that you don't have time to go to the coffeeshop with her because you are already meeting your friend Sukuna after class, which leaves Sukuna standing in the middle of the hallway for a whole thirty seconds, with his mouth hanging open, completely stunned and looking like a brainless idiot as his mind tries to wrap around the fact that you see him as your friend when Sukuna never had a friend before.
Nerd!Sukuna, who makes sure to bake your favorite muffins and prepare your favorite type of tea before you come over that afternoon, wordlessly showing you that he values your companionship, or friendship, as you called it, too.
Nerd!Sukuna, who feels a small smile tug at his usually smirking lips when he sees your big happy smile and hears your sweet "For me? Oh, thank you!" when you see the plate with muffins on your place at his kitchen table. And yes, he refers to it as your place, and the thought makes him feel strangely warm.
Nerd!Sukuna, who playfully teases you for your Hello Kitty pens and glittery pink notebooks, asking if you are in some "Little Princess Kindergarten Club" or something. Only for you to march up to him the next morning before class to press a Hello Kitty text marker set against his chest so he can join the club, too, causing Sukuna to sit in class with a stupid grin on his face for a whole hour.
Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how easy things feel with you. How he can put all his hard work into your assignment and also see you working hard on it, but also have this light-hearted, playful banter with you, making him realize how boring and dry his afternoons used to be before you became his assignment partner.
Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit that you definitely aren't as bad of an assignment partner as he thought you would be. He even allows you to fill out a whole page all by yourself, which is the biggest compliment he can give you.
Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself playfully flirting with you, smirking smugly when he catches you staring at him when he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "See something you like, princess? Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I know those glasses look sexy on me."
Nerd!Sukuna, who loves to tease you like that and who ducks just in time when you scream in embarrassment and throw a pen at him while looking so fucking cute that Sukuna just teases you even more.
Nerd!Sukuna, who is quite happy with how your assignment is going. Usually, he would do the whole presentation by himself because he trusts no one else to deliver it the way he wants to, but Sukuna knows how shy you are about talking in front of the class, and Sukuna wants to teach you how to lose that fear.
Nerd!Sukuna, who just smirks at you when you complain loudly, "I can't do that! I am so bad at presenting things. I get all nervous and flustered, and then I mess up. Please do it yourself, Sukuna! You are so much better at this!"
Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you, "If you always run away from everything that scares you, you will never make it in life. So, nope. You will do your part. But aren't you such a lucky girl that you have me as your teacher?"
Nerd!Sukuna, who makes you stand in front of his fridge and practice your presentation over and over again while Sukuna sits on the kitchen chair, long muscular legs spread, tattooed arms crossed in front of his broad chest, occasionally pushing his glasses up as he watches you with an amused expression on his tattooed face, providing a brutal but honest opinion and actually helpful advice.
Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't just an overly critical and perfectionist asshole, but also someone who gives praise when he thinks it is deserved. And you, his cute little assignment partner, really deserve it. Sukuna walks over to you, stopping in front of you with a broad grin, "You did really well, princess. I'm proud of you."
Nerd!Sukuna, who wonders why your pupils look so blown out all of a sudden when you tilt your head to look up at him, stuttering in a slightly breathless voice, "Th... thank you. You were a really good teacher."
Nerd!Sukuna, who laughs and pets your hair as he smirks at you, saying something about how he could teach you lots of other things, too. Not sure anymore whether he is still just teasing you or if he really means it in a sexual way.
Nerd!Sukuna, who realizes he has a little big problem when he starts noticing the way your tits get pushed up and almost spill out of your shirt when you press a stack of books against them. Or when he loses his thread because you decided to wear a sexy little skirt, and now Sukuna can't stop thinking about how cute it would look if you were bouncing on his cock while still wearing that little skirt. Or when you suck on your stupid Hello Kitty pen, and Sukuna can't help but imagine how those sweet glossy lips of yours would feel wrapped around his cock instead.
Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to suppress those thoughts though, not wanting to mess this assignment up.
Nerd!Sukuna, who feels like encountering a world boss in a computer game, when you have a breakdown at his kitchen table, the evening before your presentation, crying and sobbing because you are nervous and convinced you will fuck up. And suddenly, Sukuna finds himself comforting you, gently caressing your arms with his large hands while murmuring reassurance to you. "Hey, stop being a brat. I know you can do it. You learned from the best, after all, didn't you, princess? And you got me. Just look at me the whole time, ok? Nothing bad can happen when you just look at me."
Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how protective he feels over you at that moment. You are sitting in front of him looking like a wet cat, with your eyes all red and swollen from crying and snot running out of your nose, but somehow you still look so fucking cute to him, and somehow you make him so much softer and less rational than he usually is.
Nerd!Sukuna, who sighs and growls, "Oh, just come here." sounding annoyed but contradicting it by pulling you into his strong arms and holding you until you feel ok again. Sukuna still complains that you got his shirt wet with your tears, but his words lack the bite.
Nerd!Sukuna, who is genuinely proud of how much you improved when he watches your part of the presentation the next day. He even catches himself smiling a real smile at you when he congratulates you after class.
Nerd!Sukuna, who experiences a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach when you smile back at him and put your small hand on his tattooed biceps, "Thank you, Sukuna. It was really nice working with you."
Nerd!Sukuna, who manages a "same," but then just stands before you, opening his mouth and closing it again, not knowing what else to say because there are too many thoughts racing through his mind, and all of them seem to be too honest. And you do the same, shuffling around shyly, looking at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, but no words come out. And so both of you just lift a hand in an awkward farewell gesture and leave on opposite sides of the hallway.
Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to tell himself he is glad that your assignment is over and he can work in solitude again but then ends up staring longingly at the empty chair at his kitchen table, where you used to sit those last few weeks.
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Aww Sukuna, do you miss us? ;)
I AM VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM AAAHHHH please, Kuna, tell me more about history and physics and every other subject that there is!!! You are so sexy!! 😘😘
Winn's fanart of Nerdkuna made me swoon so much and fall in love with him, and I always picture him as being at the top of classes anyway, so I think it was really time to finally write about him living his best nerdy life.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the headcanons! I will post Part 2 in a few days 💗 Will Kuna find a way to get us back onto his kitchen chair?
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!
Here is Part 2
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sparklingblu · 4 months ago
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Infinite Impossibilities: A Pervert's Dream Journal
Day 1: Karina
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You sit in the lecture hall, struggling to focus on professor Karina’s lecture. It’s not that the material is boring - you’re quite interested in the works of John Keats. But fuck, it’s nearly impossible to pay attention with a goddess like her standing at the podium.
Karina is weaning a tight-fitted blazer that hugs her curves in all the right places. The fabric stretches taut over her ample breasts, the buttons straining to contain them. Your eyes keep drifting to her deep cleavage, wondering if she’s wearing a bra and what kind. Lacy and sheer, maybe? Or something more functional and practical? Maybe she’s not wearing anything at all.
She turns to write on the whiteboard, and your gaze zeroes in on her ass. The skirt she’s wearing is just long enough to be appropriate, but it rides up enough to give you a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, toned thighs. You imagine hiking it up even further, exposing her plump ass cheeks and giving them a firm spank.
But you shake those thoughts away quickly, feeling your cock twitch in your pants. Christ, get it together. Karina continues speaking passionately about Keat’s metaphors and symbolism, her full, glossy lips moving hypnotically as she forms each word. You picture them wrapped around your thick shaft, sucking you off with the same enthusiasm and dedication to her craft. Your erection grows, straining against the confines of your jeans.
She runs a hand through her long, silky black hair as she considers a student’s question, and you fantasize about gripping that hair, holding her head in place as you fuck her mouth. Those dark, soulful eyes of hers would look up at you pleadingly as you use her throat for your pleasure, forcing her to gag and choke on your huge cock.
Jesus, you’re in trouble. How are you going to make it through this class without jumping her right here in front of everyone? The things you’d do to her if given the chance….you bet she’d be a quick learner. Eager to please. Such a good girl, desperate for a nice, hard cock.
You imagine bending her over the podium and hiking up that prim little skirt. Ripping her panties off and rubbing your hard cock between her ass cheeks. Spanking her when she begs too loudly for it. Teasing her pussy with the tip until she’s dripping wet and aching to be filled.
Maybe you’d let her suck you off first, giving a taste of what's to come. Making her swallow every last drop before shoving your cock in her soaking cunt and pounding her until she screams. Until she forgets all about fucking Keats and only remembers the way your cock feel splitting her open.
You take a deep breath, trying to will your erection away. The thoughts of Karina naked and writhing beneath you are not helping. Fuck, you need to get a grip. Think about something else. Anything else. Like Keats’ fucking Odes. Right. Odes.
You barely register the end of the lecture, just barely picking up your stuff in time before she dismisses the class. You follow the herd of students filing out, forcing yourself not to look back at Karina. She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Why would she? You’re just another horny student. Not worth her notice.
As you reach the door, you hear your name called out in a melodic voice. Your heart stops for a moment as you turn around. She’s looking right at you, her dark eyes intense and focused.
“Mr. Raphael, could you stay after class? I’d like to have a word with you”
Fuck. You swallow hard, nodding mutely as you watch her bend over the podium, rummaging through her notes. Oh god, you’re in deep now. She’s going to realize what a pervert you are. What you’ve been thinking about doing to her hot little body.
You approach Karina’s desk, hands trembling slightly as you try to think of an excuse. You didn’t do anything wrong….right? Maybe she just wants to discuss your grade or assignment feedback.
After a while, Karina takes her seat and looks up at you with a warm smile, her dark eyes twinkling. “ Mr. Raphael, thanks for staying. I wanted to speak with you about your latest assignment on Keats’ odes.”
You nod, feeling a bit awkward. “Oh, uh, yeah. What do you think?”
She leans back in her chair, the fabric of her tight blazer stretching obscenely across her huge tits.. “I think it’s excellent work. You clearly have a deep understanding of the material and a real knack for close reading”
You feel a surge of pride at her words, but it’s tempered by the way her gaze seems to linger on you just a moment too long. Is it your imagination, or is there a hint of something more in her eyes?
“That’s great to hear,” you manage to say, shifting from foot to foot. “I really enjoy the subject matter”
“I can tell,” she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her glossy lips. “I’m glad you appreciate it. I aim to be very….hands-on with my students. “
Your mind immediately conjures images of those elegant hands all over your body, gripping your ass, stroking your cock. You shift uncomfortably, feeling yourself grow hard.
“And I couldn’t help but notice how much you seem to…admire my tits,” she continues, toying with the buttons on her shirt. “The way you stare at them during class. Like you’re aching to free them and bury your face between them.”
“Professor Karina, I….” you start to protest weakly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.
“Oh please, spare me the innocent act,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like a starving man eyeing a feast.”
She stands up and walks around the desk, hips swaying hypnotically. She comes to stand right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off her body. Her tits brush against your chest and you bite back a moan.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot on your ear. “You want to bend me over this desk and pound my pussy until I scream.”
You whimper, your cock now rock hard and straining against your zipper. “Yes,” you admit hoarsely. “Fuck yes.”
She grins wickedly, backing up slightly to give a good look of her body. “Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got? Fuck me like the horny little cumslut I am”
Before you can react, she’s unbuttoning her shirt and shrugging it off, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contains her massive tits. You gape at them, mesmerized by their perfect roundness and softness.
She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her tits spring free, huge and heavy and perfect. The rosy nipples are hard little peaks begging to be sucked.
“Touch them,” she demands, pushing her chest out invitingly. “Grab my fucking tits and worship them like they deserve.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You reach out and cup her massive breasts in your hands, marveling at their weight and softness. They overflow your palm, the warm flesh spilling between your fingers. You squeeze them gently, feeling the heavy globes respond to your touch.
“Mhmm, just like that,” she moans, arching into your touch. “Play with those big fucking titties.”
You pinch one of her sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger, tugging on it and rolling it back and forth until she’s writhing against you with desire. Her other nipple is just as needy, begging for attention. You give it the same treatment, watching her face contort with pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Feeling my big tits in your hands. Groping them like you’ve always dreamed of”
You lean down and capture one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the rigid peak.
“Oh fuck, yes,” she cries out. “Suck my tits like a hungry baby. Suck them until I leak milk.”
You switch to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention as you palm and squeeze her breasts. The flesh is soft and pilant in your hands, yet firm with muscle beneath the surface. You could spend hours exploring those incredible tits, learning every inch of their curves and hollows.
But Karina has other ideas. She pulls your head back by your hair, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Enough playing with my tits,” she growls. “I need you to eat my cunt. Now.”
She shoves you down onto your knees and hikes up her skirt, revealing a skimpy thong already soaked through with her arousal. The scent of her pussy fills your nostrils, musky and sweet.
“Taste me,” she hisses, grinding her crotch against your face. “Shove your tongue in my fucking hole and lap up all my juices.”
You bury your face between her legs, licking and sucking at her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. The taste of her is divine, heady and intoxicating.
“Pull my thong aside,” she pants, fisting your hair. “I want to feel your tongue on my clit.”
You comply, tugging the soaked fabric to the side and diving in with renewed fervor. You swipe your tongue along her slit, moaning at the first taste of her nectar on your tongue.
“Oh fuck yes,” she cries out, riding your face shamelessly. “Lick my cunt like a good boy. Make me cum all over that pretty mouth.”
You alternate between lapping at her folds and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until she’s thrashing against you.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum!” she screams, her thighs clamping around your head. “Don’t you dare stop!”
You double your efforts, plunging two fingers as she squirts all over your face and mouth, gushing hot cum down your throat. You swallow it greedily, relishing every drop of her essence.
When she finally comes down from her high, she pushes you away and backs up, panting heavily. “Now get up and strip,” she orders, eyes dark with lust. “It’s time for me to return the favor.”
You scramble to obey, yanking your clothes off in record time. Your cock springs free, hard and ready and straining towards her.
“Mhmm, such a nice big dick,” she purrs approvingly, stroking it with one hand while unzipping her skirt with the other. She lets it pool at her feet before stepping out of it, leaving her in just her thigh high stockings.
She turns around and bends over the desk, reaching back to spread her ass cheeks apart. Her pussy glistens with juices, pink and perfect and so fucking ready for you.
“Fuck my cunt,” she demands, looking back at you over her shoulder with a challenging glare. “Pound me into this desk until I can’t walk straight.”
You grab her hips and line up your cock with her entrance, rubbing the head teasingly through her slick folds. She moans impatiently, wiggling her ass against you.
“Stop teasing and fuck me already!” she snarls. “Impale me on that huge fucking cock!”
You can’t deny her a second longer. With one hard thrust, you bury yourself balls-deep in her tight heat. She cries out in ecstasy, her walls clamping down around you like a vice.
“Oh god yes!” she wails as you start to move, sawing in and out of her with powerful strokes. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”
The desk creaks and shakes beneath you as you rut into her like an animal, driven by pure primal lust. She meets every thrust with the roll of her hips, slamming against you with wanton abandon.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with her high-pitched moans and your low grunts of pleasure. Your hands reach around to grab her tits, squeezing the soft mounds roughly. You pinch her nipples between your fingers, twisting and pulling on the sensitive buds.
“Ahhh! Fuck yes play with my tits!” Karina moans, arching her back to push her beasts further into your grip. You comply eagerly, kneading the pillowy flesh and rolling her nipples between your fingers until they are stiff peaks.
Your hips piston faster, driving your cock deeper into her sopping wet cunt. The head bumps against her cervix with each thrust, making her yelp and shudder. You can feel her getting tighter and tighter around you, her body tensing as she nears her peak.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!” she cries out, her voice high and breathy. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop!”
You double your efforts, pounding into her harder and faster than ever. Your balls slap against her clit with each stroke, the lewd sound making your cock throb with need. The pleasure is intense, building and building until it feels like you might explode.
“Cum inside me,” she pants, pushing back onto you with bruising force. “Fill me up with your hot seed. I want to feel you pulsing in my cunt”
Her words send you hurtling over the edge. With a roar, you bury yourself to the hilt and let go, spurting jets of cum deep into her waiting womb.
She cries out in rapture as she feels your release flooding her insides, triggering her own orgasm. Her pussy spasms around you as she comes hard, milking every last drop from your cock.
You collapse on top of her, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of pleasure course through your bodies. She turns her head and captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with her tongue.
When you finally break apart, she smiles at you wickedly. “Mhmm, now that’s what I call a productive study session,” she purrs, giving your softening cock a squeeze. “But don’t think we are done yet. I’m going to drain those big balls of yours until you are completely empty.”
She strokes your semi-hard length, coaxing it back to full mast. You groan at the sensation, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. But your body responds eagerly to her touch, your cock hardening in her grip.
“I want you to fuck my tits,” Karina demands, pushing you down on the desk chair. She kneels before you, squeezing her breasts together. “Cum all over those perfect tits. Coat me in your juice.”
You can only nod dumbly, too turned on to form words. She takes your rigid cock and nestles it between her soft mounds, enveloping you in warm, pillowy flesh. Then she starts moving, sliding up and down your shaft with a steady rhythm.
“Oh fuck,” you groan, mesmerized by the sight of your dick disappearing between her tits over and over.
You can’t believe this is actually happening. The hottest professor on campus, the one you have fantasized about for weeks, is on her knees before you, her luscious tits wrapped around your aching cock. It’s like something out of a daydream.
As Karina works your shaft with her perfect breasts, you reach out to grab her hair, guiding her head down further. She takes the hint, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard on the tip of your cock each time it pops out from her cleavage.
“Oh fuck, yes,” you groan, hips bucking up to meet her movements. “Suck that cock you dirty slut. Show me how much you love having my dick in your mouth.”
She moans around you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her hands cup your balls, massaging them gently as she blows you. You are so close now, your thrusts becoming erratic and desperate.
“I’m getting close again,” you warn her, hips thrusting like a madman into her pillowy tits. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon!”
“Yes, do it!” she urges, squeezing her tits tighter around you. “Paint my tits with your hot cum. I want to be covered in it!”
Her dirty words push you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of semen spurt out and splatter across her chest. She aims your cock so that each shot lands on her breasts, glazing them with your essence.
When your orgasm finally subsides, you collapse back in the chair, chest heaving. Karina releases your spent cock, admiring the mess you’ve made of her tits. She scoops some of your cum onto her fingers and licks it off with a moan.
“Mhmm, you taste even better on my tits,” she purrs, sucking the last drop from her digits. “Such a good boy, giving me exactly what I wanted.” She stands, leaning down to give you a deep passionate kiss, sharing your combined taste.
Before you can plead for more, she breaks the kiss. “Now it’s time for the main event,” she says, rolling onto her hands and knees. She looks over her shoulder at you, ass high in the air. “Come and claim your prize, tiger. Stick that big cock in my ass.”
Despite having cummed twice, your cock has already begun throbbing at the sight of her magnificent ass. You kneel behind her and rub the head on her slick folds, coating yourself in her juices. Then you notch it against her puckered hole and start to push.
“Oh fuck,” Karina gasps as you breach her tight ring of muscle, “You’re so big. Stretching me so good.”
You groan as her ass clench around you, hot and velvety soft. You grip her hips and start to move, slowly at first, letting her adjust to your size. But soon you are pounding into her, hard and fast, just the way she needs it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Karina wails, taking your pounding like a champ. Her tits bounce and jiggle with the force of your strokes, the lewd sight spurring you on.
Unable to resist, you reach around and grab her melons, kneading the soft mounds and pinching her nipples. You use her tits to your heart’s content, tugging and twisting her sensitive peaks as you rut into her from behind. The dual stimulation has her writhing in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing as her ass milks your cock.
“I’m close,” she warns, voice tight with impending release. “Fuck me harder! Make me cum on that big cock!”
Your hips snap forward like a piston, hammering into her ass with brutal force. Karina’s ass clenches even tighter around your cock as her lips spill a string of curses.
“Oh god, I’m cumming!” she screams, back arching as her orgasm overtakes her. Her ass spasms around you, her inner walls rippling along your shaft as she comes hard.
The feeling of her clenching and fluttering pushes you over the edge. With a roar, you slam into her one last time, emptying your balls into her ass.
“Fuck,” you growl as you erupt, painting her walls with your thick essence. Jet after jet of cum spurts from your slit, flooding her ass and leaking around your shaft.
You keep your cock buried in her for a moment as you catch your breath before pulling out, letting a waterfall of cum pour out from her now gaping hole.
It feels like every bone in your body has been turned to lead, your breathing ragged and shallow. You collapse, finally broken after three continuous fuck session.
As you lay there on the cold floor contemplating what the hell has just happened, Karina’s face hovered into view, looking too energetic for someone who has just gotten their asshole stretched loose.
She leans in, hinting at a kiss before pulling back with a wicked smile. “You know we are not done yet, right?”
-
In this series, I intend to focus purely on smut. There won't be much plot, just 99 percent smut. Some dialogues and sceneries might not even make sense. But that's the point. Because it's pure fantasy.
2K notes · View notes
aurumalatus · 6 months ago
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everyone knows that kinich is in love with you—well, everyone except you.
and really, as annoying as it is, most people can’t really blame you for not knowing. kinich is hard to read in any situation, but especially in these situations. it’s hard to catch the warmth that blooms in his eyes when he looks at you, or the way he follows you around almost unconsciously, protective.
but onlookers can tell, because there’s no faking the way kinich orbits you day by day.
that includes your best friend, heizou, who insists on proving it to you. he won’t stop going on and on about how kinich is so deeply in love with you, and you just won’t believe him.
so that’s how he finds himself face to face with kinich in the quad before class, weight shifting between his feet. he’s not nervous—heizou rarely is—but he can barely hold in a laugh when he sees you hiding behind a tree nearby.
“heizou?” kinich starts testingly. the two of them aren’t really friends, more like acquaintances by association. so it had probably been a bit strange to receive a text asking him to meet.
heizou sighs. “i’m gonna cut to the chase. what’s the deal with you and her?”
he doesn’t even need to say your name—kinich stiffens all the same, unnerved by the mention of you falling from someone else’s lips.
“…we’re friends,” kinich replies after a moment of horribly obvious hesitation. heizou has to fight back a gleeful smile.
“oh, great!” he sings, already moving to skip away. “that means you’d have no problem with me asking her out. i’m so glad we had this chat—“
“hey, hold on.”
kinich’s hand latches onto heizou’s shoulder, and suddenly the situation feels much less funny. when he turns, kinich’s eyes are narrowed, expression severe.
“for now. we’re friends for now,” he finishes. your eyes widen from behind the tree nearby.
heizou grins.
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dvrk-moon · 4 months ago
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LOVE ME NOT - YANG JUNGWON
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— synopsis: fake dating your enemy, yang jungwon, for the sake of getting your mutual friends to stop playing matchmaker is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. however, it’s a bit more enticing when $100 is thrown in the mix.
— word count: 21k
— warnings: cursing, suggestive jokes, stupid teenager activities, classism
— featuring: ive wonyoung, bnd taesan, zb1 gyuvin, nwjns minji, + more 04 liner idols
— genre: enemies-to-lovers, fake dating, SLOW burn, jungwon x fem!reader, private high school au
— playlist: kiss with a fist - florence + the machine, r u mine - arctic monkeys, the way i loved you - taylor swift, you get me so high - arctic monkeys, norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey, make up your mind - florence + the machine (feat. fire burning - sean kingston, come on eileen - dexy’s midnight runners for part 17)
— a/n: lowkey so relieved this is over and finally written after FOREVER. in the same breath i am so sad because this fic has been in the works for years (at least 3) and to see it finally written is so bittersweet :( thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this !!! i love you all so much !!!
— taglist: @jwonistic @ilovejungwonandhaechan @wensurr @yyawnjun @slvtella @dimplewonie @ch4c0nnenh4
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i. GOD-DAMN, MAN CHILD
The wind always blows when you don’t want it to.
At least, that’s what it feels like.
You were sat on a bench outside of the country club owned by your friend’s family. They were crazily wealthy, owning not only a country club but also many vacation homes and businesses. That was pretty much a given though, especially since you had met your friend at a private and prestigious academy. Everyone that attended the school was extremely well off in a sense. Most of the students had parents who were business owners, political figures, or even celebrities. To say that you were an outlier would be an understatement.
You didn’t come from wealth. In fact, you were one of the only students at your school to not come from wealth. You were offered a scholarship for your academics; last year, you had an opportunity from your old school to take a test that offered a scholarship to your current academy if you scored well. Only the top five scorers would be granted admission. You and four other students were awarded with the scholarship.
Unfortunately, that meant that you had left a completely different life behind. Your two best friends from childhood, Minji and Gyuvin, were both in support of your academic opportunity, but neither of them had passed the test, so you were left alone. A new, clean slate at a school where you knew next to no one.
Your new classmates made no effort to help you fit in. In fact, most of them ridiculed you for coming from a lower class. It was expected when mingling with snotty prep school kids, but it still hurt. The only person that hadn’t singled you out was Wonyoung.
She was easily the most popular girl there, but she still brought you under her wing. This caused the others to be slightly kinder to you, but only in her presence.
So here you were, sat on a bench, outside of her family’s country club, swinging your legs and glancing at the tennis court in front of you. It was late March, and though the weather reports had said that it would be nice enough outside to wear a skirt, your legs were cursing you because of the wind.
Wonyoung had gone inside temporarily to go fetch the two boys that you were going to play tennis with. She’d left about two minutes ago, telling you that she just had to run down to the entrance gate and she’d be back as soon as possible.
You fidgeted with the hem of the skirt you were wearing. It wasn’t even yours; it was Wonyoung’s, and she had let you borrow it for today. You laughed at yourself, because here you were, at a country club, yet the clothes you were wearing weren’t even yours. From an outsiders perspective, you seemed rich. Everyone else could tell the truth, though.
Another breeze passed by and you stood up, walking towards the door. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have to wait, so you figured that you may as well wait inside.
As if on cue, Wonyoung exited the door with the two boys. You knew both of them from school. Honestly, you liked Wonyoung’s boyfriend. His name was Taesan. He was always nice to you, and never made you feel bad for being of a lower class.
The other boy, however, seemed to have a personal vendetta against you, and you had no idea why. He didn’t seem to like you from the first day you met, even though you’d been nice to him from the get-go. If you had to guess why he didn’t like you, it was probably for the same reason that none of your other peers seemed to like you: your wealth status.
Jungwon was his name, and aside from being a major jerk to you, he was extremely intelligent. Ever since you arrived at the school, you’d been one of the top ranked students. It made sense, too, as you were permitted into the school based on your academics. Jungwon was ranked second to you in most classes. You figured that could be another reason.
As soon as you met eyes with Jungwon, he rolled his own and shook his head. He was donned in the most prestigious tennis outfit you’d ever seen, which was saying a lot, given as this country club was flooded with rich and pretentious tennis players.
“Okay,” Wonyoung started, walking over to you, “now that we are all here, do you guys want to warm up?”
“Yeah,” Jungwon said, looking away from you, “let’s warm up.”
You didn’t miss how Jungwon slightly shoulder-checked you as he walked towards the tennis courts.
You entered the fenced-in courts, and another breeze blew in your direction. As a reaction, you shivered, making Wonyoung giggle as she made her way towards you.
“Sorry about the hold up,” she started, bouncing a tennis ball on the court, practicing her serving. She looked over at the other side of the court, where Jungwon and Taesan were situated. She laughed, “but those two were taking forever. They’re weird.” She offered you an apologetic smile.
“It’s fine,” you said, “I was just afraid you wouldn’t come back. I stick out like a sore thumb here.”
Wonyoung frowned, “No you don’t, Y/N. I don’t think a single person here batted an eye while I was gone.”
“You were gone,” you teased, “how would you know?”
“I know lots of things,” she commented, “I know lots and lots of things.”
You bounced the tennis ball on the court as you laughed at her words, “Whatever you say.”
After about five minutes of warming up and a dirty look exchanged with Jungwon later, Wonyoung announced, “Okay, let’s get to playing! Do we wanna do singles or doubles?”
“Let’s do doubles,” Taesan said, walking towards the net. He patted Jungwon on the back, “and Jungwon, you can be partners with Y/N. Is that okay with you guys?”
Wonyoung turned to you, “It’s fine with me as long as you’re okay with it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Taesan started walking over to Wonyoung, so you took that as your cue to go ahead and walk to the side Jungwon was on. Even though you knew Jungwon wasn’t your biggest fan, you still attempted formalities with him.
“Good luck,” you commented, looking at him. You sent him a little smile, “I’ll play to the best of my ability, but I don’t play often. So, sorry in advance.”
“I’m not surprised.” Jungwon replied under his breath, thinking that you wouldn’t hear. You decided to just ignore him and play to the best of your ability, like you said you would.
The first game started with Wonyoung serving and you receiving, but the first game was cut relatively short with an easy 40-15 that ended in your team’s loss.
The rest of the games of the first set ended very similarly, to no surprise. Wonyoung’s family owned the country club. Of course she would be good at the game.
So far, you and Jungwon had only won two sets out of the seven played. Wonyoung and Taesan only needed to win one more set to win the match.
Jungwon, quite obviously, was extremely frustrated at this loss. Very early on, you’d learned that he was a sore loser, and that you being bad at tennis definitely wasn’t helping soothe his anger.
After the final set that ended up in, surprise, a win for Wonyoung and Taesan, the two winners went to take a quick victory break while they left you and Jungwon to “discuss game strategies” as they phrased it.
In the three minutes that they’d been gone, no words were exchanged between you and Jungwon. He was just repeatedly slamming the tennis ball into the court and catching it when it bounced back. The air was tense, but you still tried to make conversation.
“Sorry about that.”
“Your horrible playing?” Jungwon snidely remarked, “Yeah. Thanks for the apology, but that doesn’t change that you’re making us lose.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You’re acting like this is life or death. It’s just tennis.”
“Yeah, it may be just tennis to you. But some people, of… higher class… take it more seriously than people like you would. So I don’t expect you to understand.”
“People like me?!” You laughed incredulously, surprised at his audacity. You tried your best to keep your voice down to not draw any attention towards you two, but with his attitude, it was difficult.
“Yeah, people like you. Did I stutter?” He asked snarky.
Your words got caught in your mouth- most of the time when people were mean to you, you’d just either ask them what they said (even when you’d heard it) or you’d repeat what they said to you, and that usually made them back off. Clearly this wasn’t the case for Jungwon, though, as he was completely okay with repeating himself and not even thinking twice about what he said to you. You groaned, turning away from him, “You’re not nice.”
“And you’re bad at tennis.”
“At least I’m good at math…” you trailed off, semi-hoping that he wouldn’t hear. You were better than Jungwon when it came to math, and that was a sensitive topic for him. But, if he wanted to ridicule your tennis-playing skills, then you would ridicule his mathematical abilities.
The tennis ball that was being aggressively bounced into the court stopped. You didn’t need to look at Jungwon to know his eyes were boring holes into the back of your head.
“What did you say?” Jungwon seethed out, taking a step closer to you.
“Nothing…” you trailed off, facing him, “it’s just that… I don’t need to be good at tennis. I’m smart.”
“Psh.” Jungwon rolled his eyes at you, “At least my parents can pay for good schooling. Sucks that yours have to mooch off of a scholarship.”
You rolled your eyes back, very slightly raising your voice at him, “Yeah. Imagine your parents having to pay for the same schooling that I get. And I get it for free.”
Before any more words could be exchanged, Wonyoung and Taesan returned with canned drinks, one in each hand for the both of them and for you and Jungwon. Wonyoung smiled, “We brought you guys back something to drink!”
You felt most of your anger dissipate at Wonyoung’s return, smiling at her. She and Taesan entered the courts once again and you met her in the middle, “Thank you.”
“Of course. Taesan also brought something for Jungwon.”
You nodded as she handed you the beverage, cracking it open and taking a drink. The cold liquid felt like a good refresher to the heated argument that was just beginning to unfold minutes ago.
“I’m glad that you and Jungwon seem to be getting along.” Wonyoung commented, nearly making you choke on the drink. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, “You guys wouldn’t make a bad couple.”
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ii. SO SIT BACK AND WATCH THE BED BURN
You rolled yourself across your twin-sized mattress as you turned to face your two best friends, Minji and Gyuvin. You’d called them over to your family’s apartment to catch up, which was a much needed occasion, as you three hadn’t had much time to talk recently.
Minji and Gyuvin had just entered your bedroom door and stepped into your room, which was littered in posters, pictures, and art. Your room had always been cluttered (or “used to its maximum capacity” as your mother liked to phrase it) like this so your best friends weren’t surprised at anything when they walked in.
“Thanks for knocking.” You sarcastically remarked, pushing yourself onto your forearms to look at them. You watched as your two friends made their ways to the area in front of the foot of your bed, and saw as Minji took a seat on the rug on your floor. Gyuvin opted to take your desk chair and roll it to sit next to Minji, yet be eye-level with you.
“You look stressed,” Gyuvin commented, teasing you, “but what else is new.”
You flopped your face into your bed and let out a muffled and sarcastic, “Ha, ha.”
You heard a smacking sound and then an “Ow!” from Gyuvin. Minji stood up and made you scoot over so she could lay next to you in your bed, “Ignore him. His panties are in a twist right now for some reason.”
You turned your head to the left to look at her for a moment before dramatically flopping back into the mattress.
Minji patted your head, “What’s wrong, Y/N? You’re not usually this dramatic when we come over.”
Gyuvin stifled a laugh before quieting as soon as Minji sent him a pointed look.
You dramatically rolled over to face the ceiling of your room, “Why are boys so horrible?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush,” Minji groaned, “I’m no good with those.”
“No, no!” You rushed to correct her, not missing how Gyuvin was taunting in the mean time. He sung, “Ooh~ Y/N has a crush!”
“He is not a crush! He’s the worst person I’ve ever met!”
“Come on, Y/N,” Minji poked you, “he can’t be the worst person you’ve ever met. Think about Gyuvin!”
You rolled your eyes at Gyuvin, who was still taunting you with his song, “Gyuvin, shut the hell up!”
You watched as Minji lifted a hand that threatened to fall onto Gyuvin’s exposed thigh, and to which Gyuvin immediately shut up.
“What guy are you talking about?” Minji asked, looking back down at you.
“He’s this guy from the new school. He’s such an asshole to me for no reason. I mean, there might be a reason, but I can’t think of a valid one.”
“What does he do?” Gyuvin pitched in, finally getting his attention piqued from the conversation at hand.
“Like, everything?” You let out, “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Saying ‘everything’ gives us no idea what this guy does, Y/N.”
You groaned dramatically before filling your friends in on the entire situation with Jungwon:
“I haven’t really told you guys about this guy before,” you started, using your hands to explain your story. Minji nodded as you told your story, while Gyuvin was spinning in his chair endlessly. You continued, “but there’s a guy at the new school, his name is Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.”
“Yang Y/N~” Gyuvin teased. Minji reached over to harshly smack his leg.
You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, he’s basically the worst person I’ve ever met. His dad runs a corporation of local gas stations, so he’s basically filthy rich. I say this because not only is he like every other private school kid that makes fun of my wealth status, but he’s also threatened to sue my parents multiple times. Most of the time he has no reason.
“The reason I’m so particularly upset about him is because I went to my school friends’ country club. You guys remember Wonyoung?” They both nodded, because as Wonyoung was your closest private school friend, of course your actual closest friends knew about her existence.
“Okay,” you said, “so we were at her country club, but her boyfriend and his friend are also there, and you’ll never guess who the friend is! Jungwon!
“He’s an ass to me basically the whole time while I’ve been trying to be nice to him,” you sighed, “I don’t know what his problem is. I didn’t even do anything to him. Anyways, we were partnered up because we were playing doubles tennis at the country club, because Wonyoung wanted to be on the same team as her boyfriend. That’s understandable, and I haven’t held it against her or anything. But he is not only a sore loser, but just a jerk to me.”
Minji nodded in sympathy at you while Gyuvin made his presence known, “Kill him. Easy as that.”
“You’re sick in the head, you know that?” MInji questioned him.
“He’s a private school kid, Y/N.” Gyuvin said, standing up from the chair to stand over you. “I really don’t know what you’re expecting from someone like him. He’s probably never been told ‘No’ in his life.”
“I’m also a private school kid…” you murmured.
“Yeah, but you weren’t brought up that way. He undoubtedly was.” Gyuvin said.
You nodded, “You’re right.”
“Always am.”
“The problem is that it’s my senior year,” you lamented, “and I don’t want it to be bad just because some pest can’t leave me alone. I just don’t know how to get rid of him.”
“You could always drop out.” Gyuvin offered, going to sit back down in the chair.
“That’s a horrible idea,” Minji said, “don’t listen to him. I’m sure that as long as you don’t pay much mind to this Jungwon guy then you’ll be fine. Plus, you have Wonyoung. They’re basically the same height, and she could probably beat him in a fight.”
You laughed, “I don’t know, I like Wonyoung a lot, but she’s basically Ivy Hills royalty. She has a reputation to manage. I’m sure fighting with Jungwon wouldn’t do her much good.”
“I would pay money to see that fight.” Gyuvin announced.
“You’re weird.”
“My mind is an enigma. I wouldn’t expect commonfolk like you to understand.”
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iii. JUST SO FRUSTRATING
The halls of Ivy Hills Private Academy never failed to make your head hurt.
The utter abundance of students flooding the halls and blocking every locker at 7:30am was absolutely astounding to you. Not one person there paid any mind to you, and if by chance they did, it was a slight shove or a snarky comment. The bright, fluorescent lights surely didn’t help. You tried your hardest to blend into the background, but even though you were donned in the same uniform as all your peers, somehow you still stuck out like a sore thumb to them. It was almost like they could feel your class difference radiating off of you.
Wonyoung was one of the only people who made you feel normal. The only way that others would treat you kindly was if she was also present, since she was basically the school’s princess. You had just received a text from her that read:
good morning !! do you wanna get some food this weekend? it’s on me :)
You had no idea what your plans were for the weekend; it was only Tuesday after all. But you were sure that as long as you weren’t scheduled to work, you’d be doing nothing else. Besides, Wonyoung was always great to be around. You had yet to respond to her text, needing to not only check your schedule but also run the plans by your parents before you acted on anything. They really liked Wonyoung, so you doubted there would be a problem, but it was always best to check.
You sighed, tucking your phone into your bag while walking to your locker. You were mandated to keep your phone stowed away somewhere, and as a student at the school with a scholarship, you wanted to abide by any rules. You couldn’t risk the possibility of getting the scholarship pulled from you; you didn’t have the privilege to keep the school quiet with monetary bribes like others did. You snapped out of your train of thought and started to unlock your locker to put the majority of your textbooks away. The first class on your schedule was AP Calculus BC, one of the tougher classes at Ivy Hills, but you found it relatively easy.
Of course, it was one of the classes you shared with Jungwon.
It would be okay. You’d just do your best to not get into any quarrels with him.
You left your locker and walked quickly to your Calculus class, wasting no time to converse with others or engage in any sort of interaction with them. The Calculus class was only a hallway down from your locker, but it would still be difficult to get in there quickly with the amount of students crowding the halls. You cradled your school bag in your arms and tried your best to not run into anyone.
The AP Calculus BC teacher was possibly the stingiest educator you’d ever witnessed. She refused to let people turn anything in late, she refused to give extensions, and she refused to accept wrong answers. You’d learned this very early on in her class; one of your female peers forgot to turn her homework packet until the end of the bell, and your teacher almost didn’t even let her turn it in. You were sure she only let the girl turn it in due to the amount of points the packet was worth, and a lack of turning it in would surely result in a failing grade in the class.
You quickly found your assigned seat near the window on the far wall. The sun was still rising above the horizon, and your window seat gave a beautiful view of the sight. The sunlight spilled into the room like a calm water fountain, leaving you smiling without realizing.
Sitting down at your desk, you placed your bag to the right of your seat and opened it to pull out your binder, textbook, calculator, and a pencil. You usually opted to use mechanical pencils, but they’d all somehow gone missing, so you were forced to use a wooden one. You grabbed your pencil sharpener from your bag just to be safe.
As you lifted your head back up, you saw a face that nearly made you jump. It was Yang Jungwon, who happened to have an assigned seat right next to you in this class. Just your luck. It made sense, having the two smartest people in the class next to each other. Your teacher didn’t have to worry about any cheating on tests, at the very least.
Jungwon had one strap of his backpack looped around his right shoulder and the left side was just hanging. He was talking with some friends. You didn’t know their names, yet you were positive that they’d at least called you ‘poor’ once before. Not surprising coming from friends of Jungwon.
You started pulling out a work packet from your binder and flipped to the page in the textbook that the teacher had written on the board: 295. Sure, class hadn’t started yet, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get ready for it to start. You were eager to finish this last unit; the last month or so of class would be spent reviewing for the AP test. You were nearly positive you’d receive a score of five.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jungwon make his way to his desk, the one to your right. He sneered at your presence, “Already got your stuff out, huh? God, what a nerd.”
Rolling your eyes, you responded, “Thanks. We’re in the same class so that also makes you a nerd.”
“There’s still time until class starts,” he said, “no need to get your stuff out ten minutes early.”
“No need to be a prick ten minutes early. Come bother me during school hours, Jungwon. Give me my ten minutes of peace while I still have them.”
Surprisingly to you, he turned away and stopped himself from snapping back.
Your ten minutes of peace quickly felt like thirty seconds when Jungwon returned to his seat at the beginning of class.
Your teacher had immediately tasked you and your classmates with pairing up with the four people closest to you; your group was you, Jungwon, a girl named Sull Yoona, and another boy named Leehan. The aforementioned two weren’t the kindest to you, but when compared with how Jungwon treated you, you were a dutchess. The groups were assigned to work on the work packet and solve fifteen problems by the end of the class period, which was roughly an hour away. You dreaded what was to come, but sucked it up. Yoona and Leehan were smart enough. Plus, conversations would be minimal anyways.
The answers you all shared majorly coincided with one another, yet there was one — problem 13 — where Jungwon and Leehan got a different answer, and refused to change their answers to fit yours. You didn’t care too much, you were sure that your and Yoona’s answer was the correct one.
“Jungwon,” you tried to reason, “the question isn’t asking for the distance traveled. It’s asking for the displacement.”
“I’m not listening to you, Y/N.” He huffed, “You tried to tell us that the last question’s answer was that the limit does not exist.”
“Okay,” you admitted, “I made a calculation error. But I’m sure that I’m right about this one.”
“I don’t care. We’ll see who’s right at the end of class.”
Another fifteen minutes passed and there was ten minutes left of class, and as most of your classmates had finished, your teacher called on a different group for each problem to answer and explain how they got what they did.
When the teacher got to question 13, it was your group’s turn to answer. Jungwon immediately stepped up to the question. His answer, which he announced confidently, was “8 meters”.
Your teacher frowned at Jungwon, “That is not the correct answer. Can someone else from the group answer differently? And maybe correctly this time? How about Y/N?”
You smiled at your teacher, “I got -5 1/3 meters.”
“That is correct. Thank you, Y/N.”
You didn’t miss how Jungwon gave you a nasty side eye when you answered correctly. The teacher quickly moved onto the next group with question 14.
Wanting to push his buttons slightly more, you leaned to your right and whispered, “I hope you realize I got into this school for a reason.”
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iv. YOU CALL THE SHOTS
It was now Saturday: the day that Wonyoung had asked you to get food with her. Over the week you’d agreed to go get lunch with her on Saturday, and decided on a locally owned Italian restaurant to eat at.
It was a complete shock to you to find out that Taesan and Jungwon were also going to be at this lunch.
Wonyoung didn’t tell you, and you were sure there was no malicious intent, but the irony of this happening to you twice was slowly chipping away at your sanity.
When you arrived at the restaurant to find Jungwon and Taesan already waiting for you two, you fought every urge in your body to roll your eyes at Jungwon’s presence.
“You’re here!” Taesan called once he laid his eyes on Wonyoung. He embraced her quickly before turning to you, “Hello, Y/N. Great seeing you too.” There were no hints of sarcasm in his words, but you weren’t sure how great you felt seeing him. Not like you hated Taesan, but the growth that followed him around (Jungwon) definitely didn’t make you happy.
As if on cue, the host came back with menus and led the four of you to your table. When Wonyoung had mentioned food, you made the wrong assumption of going somewhere casual; the fact that Wonyoung was filthy rich somehow slipped your mind. There was no way you could afford most of the items they sold here, but since Wonyoung was paying, you let yourself relax a bit.
Wonyoung and Taesan were the two that are following closest behind the host, leaving you and Jungwon to be the last two in the group. You tried your best to slightly trail behind him, not wanting any altercations (especially in front of Wonyoung), but to your dismay, Jungwon had other plans in mind.
He slowed his pace just slightly to make a little snarky remark, “I hope you know that if Wonyoung wasn’t your wallet, you’d never step foot in any place like this.”
His words hurt, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t already used to. You ignored him and picked up your pace slightly.
When you reached the table, Wonyoung and Taesan (unsurprisingly) chose to sit next to each other, leaving you and Jungwon to occupy the remaining seats. You braced yourself for what you thought would be a peaceful lunch turning into a living Hell.
Lunch, shockingly, went a lot smoother than you had anticipated it would be. Jungwon mostly kept his comments under wraps, and nothing he said was hurtful enough to actually provoke you into retorting with something potentially worse.
Near the end of the meal, Wonyoung excused herself to go to the bathroom. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to finally be able to talk to her without the boys around, you leapt up and joined her.
Once in the bathroom, Wonyoung immediately went into a stall while you stood in front of the luxurious sink. You adjusted your clothes and some of your makeup while she occupied herself.
Once the toilet flushed and you were sure there wasn’t anyone else in the bathroom, you spoke up and finally popped a question to Wonyoung:
“Can I ask you something?”
Wonyoung emerged from the stall and walked to the sink next to the one you occupied. She turned on the water, “Sure, what’s up?”
“How come you haven’t been telling me when Jungwon and Taesan will be joining us at stuff? I don’t mind it all too much, but I feel like I’m being led into it blindfolded instead.”
“Oh, I-” she stopped herself, an indecipherable look on her face. She finished washing her hands and turned to you, “I’m sorry about not telling you, first of all. I’ll make sure to be more transparent about it in the future.”
“Thank you,” you said, “but my question is why are they there all the time? I understand Taesan; that’s your boyfriend. But Jungwon and I have no relation outside of being the assumed valedictorian and salutatorian of our graduating class.”
“Well,” Wonyoung smiled, “Taesan and I just think you guys are so cute together. Like, not only are you both geniuses, but you’re also both Taesan’s and my respective closest friends!”
You tilted your head, wanting her to continue.
“Listen, Y/N.” She grabbed your hand, her cold and dainty hands wrapping themselves around your right one. She smiled genuinely, “You’ve just been able to help me so much, so I want to return the favor! You deserve someone like Jungwon. He’s smart, he’s a gentleman, his dad has a lot of power, he’s athletic.”
You pursed your lips at her.
“Plus,” she continued, “with you two being the most intelligent students in the school, can you imagine the cute study dates? I’m just getting giddy thinking about it!!”
“Wonyoung…” you started carefully, “I think I’m okay. I should probably worry more about school than any potential relationship right now anyways.”
“If you say so,” Wonyoung removed her hands from yours, “but I’m still rooting for this. The second you tell me to back off, I will, but for now, Taesan and I are going to try to help you two from the sidelines.”
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v. HOPE YOU DON’T REGRET IT
The following day, you, Minji, and Gyuvin were all situated at Minji’s house, in her living room. Minji was sitting in an armchair, Gyuvin was on the sofa, and you were sprawled out on the floor, in yet another dramatic mood.
You recapped your two best friends on the incidental Saturday lunch, not missing any details. Starting from the presence of Jungwon, and especially up to the comment Wonyoung made about you two getting together. The whole entire story was crazy to you and reliving it through your storytelling made you almost shiver in fear.
“And she went, ‘we will help you from the sidelines’,” you lamented, “like who says that?! I get that she has no idea about the rivalry, but he and I aren’t even cute together. He’s short.”
Gyuvin let out a hearty laugh at your comment, “Y/N, if he’s short, then you are also short.”
“Besides the point!”
“Your life does not even sound real,” Minji said, “and it’s so hard to not laugh, I’m sorry.”
You groaned from your spot on the floor, sending Minji a side eye, “Is my life some joke to you two?!”
“A little bit.” Gyuvin laughed out.
You rolled your eyes and flipped over onto your stomach, “This is so not funny.”
“Have you thought about just telling Wonyoung to back off?” Minji asked.
“Yeah, I have, thanks.” You replied to her sarcastically. You craned your neck to look at your best friend, “I haven’t done it because I know for a fact she would ask why. And I don’t wanna get into all of that, especially because her boyfriend is best friends with the devil in question.”
Minji snorted, “You two should just fake date. That’d get Wonyoung to back off.”
You immediately sat up, “Are you crazy?! Absolutely not!”
Gyuvin agreed from his spot, “Minji has a point. Maybe you two could even become friends along the way.”
Shaking your head profusely, you shot a look at Gyuvin, then at Minji, “You guys are crazy.”
“What if,” Minji proposed, “you did it for money? You just told us about how your workplace is shutting down. Plus, you need the money. You’re broke as fuck.”
“Ouch.”
“She’s right, I hate to admit it.” Gyuvin said, shrugging.
“Oh, absolutely not. I may be broke but not broke enough to date Yang Jungwon, even if it’s fake.”
“How about this?” Gyuvin challenged, “If you can successfully fake date this guy until your pretentious-ass Ivy Hills Ball dance in a couple weeks, I’ll give you $50. But only if you also go to the dance with him.”
“It’s like you want me to kill myself.”
“I’ll also give you $50.” Minji said, raising her eyebrows.
The Ivy Hills Ball dance was essentially a more talked-up prom, but from what you’d heard, it was held in an old music hall and the funding was insane. To have that experience be ruined by having Jungwon as a date did not sound enticing in the slightest, but $100 dollars did.
Plus, Gyuvin was right. It would only be a couple weeks.
“You guys drive a hard fucking bargain, I hate you two.”
“Damn,” Gyuvin laughed, “your ass really is broke. $100 to date your alleged enemy, and you’re sold.”
“I haven’t agreed!” You reasoned, trying to defend yourself.
“We both know you will, Y/N.” Minji cocked an eyebrow.
“I really, really hate you two.”
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vi. YOU GAVE A KICK, I GAVE A SLAP
Any consideration you had towards fake dating Jungwon was almost thrown out the window on the next Wednesday.
It was your AP Physics bell, which, surprise, was shared with Jungwon.
After almost trying to embarrass you in front of the class (yet luckily failing), you had to fight every urge inside to not curse him out right in that moment.
You breathed heavily out at him, “Jungwon, if you keep bothering Hanni and I, we’ll never finish this lab. And neither will you.”
“You say that like you’re smart enough to finish this lab even if I wasn’t bothering you.”
You didn’t miss how Hanni immediately widened her eyes and focused her attention back onto her lab notebook. Other classmates’ attention was caught from Jungwon’s loud comment, making your face flush a bright red.
Breathing out heavily, you sent Jungwon the most nasty look you could muster. Blinking once at him, “Shut up, Yang. Shut up for once in your goddamn life.”
Jungwon cocked an eyebrow at you, slightly smirking. He placed down his pencil, “Why don’t you make me?”
You started at him, not breaking eye contact. Of course you couldn’t ‘make him’ shut up, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying to kill him with your gaze.
“That’s what I thought,” he remarked, “all bark but no bite. Typical Y/N.”
“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
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vii. AND I CAN’T LOOK YOU IN THE EYES
The following weekend, you found yourself at Wonyoung’s mansion with Taesan and Jungwon. This time, Wonyoung had warned you that Jungwon and Taesan would be present, yet you still decided to go. Because who was Yang Jungwon to dictate when you could and couldn’t hang out with Wonyoung?
Wonyoung had recently opened her pool back up and invited the three of you over to be the first to swim in it. You happily accepted, having no other plans for the day and promising yourself that you wouldn’t let Jungwon’s presence bother you.
While in the pool, you kept letting your mind drift to the bet that Minji and Gyuvin had proposed to you earlier that week. The $100 sounded really appealing, and potentially getting Wonyoung off your back about getting you and Jungwon together would also be nice.
Noticing your distancing, Wonyoung swam up to you, “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, just thinking.”
She nodded at you while you pondered whether taking a break inside would be good to clear your mind for the time being. You decided that at the moment, that seemed best. You spoke again, “Actually, I think I’m gonna go inside to get a drink. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, “of course. Make sure to dry off well before you go in though.”
You nodded at her, watching her swim away back to Taesan while you swam to the pool steps and got out. You quickly found your towel and sandals, then went to the door that led back into the house.
You wrapped the towel around your shoulders and dried your feet on the bath mat that the Jangs had outside their home. Opening the door, you took one last look at the three in the pool, accidentally locking eyes with Jungwon. You furrowed your eyebrows and entered the house.
You entered the house of your friend and approached the kitchen where there was lemon water waiting in a pitcher. Of course, the rich family drank lemon water. You put ice into your newly found cup and sighed. While pouring yourself a glass, you heard the back door open and close again, signifying someone was also coming inside the house. You hoped it was Wonyoung, or even Taesan, but you were disappointed when you saw Jungwon’s figure walk towards the kitchen.
At his presence, your mind came back to the bet. You really needed the money right now, and getting Wonyoung off your back about him would also be a major plus.
Jungwon strode his way into the kitchen, passing you to grab a can of what appeared to be some seltzer water. His hair was still wet and his body was damp, him having done an obviously half-assed job at drying himself off. His towel was wrapped around his waist, but what drew you in was his body. Had he always had this attractive of a figure?
“I think you have a staring problem.” He said, smirking at you and making you snap out of your daze. You cleared your throat and felt heat rise to your cheeks.
“I don’t,” you clarified, “I was just… spacing out.”
“Sure.”
A layer of silence fell over the two of you, you avoiding looking at Jungwon in order to not inflate his ego any further. Your mind went back to the bet. Would this be an appropriate time?
You quickly decided, fuck it, and cleared your throat once more to get his attention, “Jungwon.”
He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath through his nose, but answered, “What?”
“I, um,” you tried to find the words, “I have a really.. interesting.. hypothetical for you. Could be good, could be bad, just- a hypothetical.”
He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Go on…”
“So,” you got a hold of yourself finally. This was just Jungwon you were talking to; if he declined your suggestion to the bet, you’d live. You looked at him, “I can’t be the only one that’s being bothered by Wonyoung and Taesan about the two of us getting together, right?”
Jungwon paused but then answered, “You aren’t.”
“Okay,” you continued, “so I recently saw some of my closest friends and they know about the whole thing. They came up with the proposal for you and I to fake date. Before you say anything, I’m not exactly thrilled either, but I think it would work. I’m sure you’re not too happy to be forced to be around me all the time either.”
“I feel like there’s an ulterior motive here,” Jungwon replied, “so tell me what it is you’re gaining out of this.”
“Getting Wonyoung off my back, of course. I also may be getting paid $100 by my friends to fake date you.”
“Why would you be getting paid?” He asked, crossing his arms.
“They know we don’t like each other, so they think it’s funny. They said if we successfully date until the dance, I’ll get the money.”
“This sounds really stupid.” Jungwon said, disgusted.
“I’ll give you half the money,” you offered, “I promise.”
Jungwon scoffed, “You think I need the money? Funny joke.”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, rich boy,” you started walking back towards the door that went to the pool, “whatever. As long as you’re fine with Wonyoung and Taesan never leaving us alone, then suit yourself.”
You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder to finish your ment:
“I didn’t expect you of all people to say yes, anyway.”
You watched as Jungwon cocked an eyebrow, his tongue prodding his cheek. He swallowed, taking quick steps toward you before you could open the door.
“Y/N,” he said, suddenly sounding challenged, “wait. Let’s discuss this.”
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viii. IT’S JUST WHAT YOU DO
The following Monday, you were sat next to Jungwon in your Calculus class, supposedly listening to a lecture. Having not discussed the concrete rules with Jungwon yet, you decided that passing him a note to ask about if talking them through after class would be alright with him.
You ripped a corner off of your notebook paper and quickly scribbled down:
Hey. Do u wanna discuss the rules after class?
As discreetly as possible, you tapped Jungwon on the sleeve of his uniform and when he turned his head, you handed him the note. He gave you a wide-eyed look but grabbed the paper anyway.
You turned your head back to your teacher, but moments later your attention was taken by Jungwon, who had tapped on your arm instead this time. You read his handwriting:
What rules
Was he dumb? How he could be so good at math but so socially unaware was astonishing to you.
You flipped the small piece of paper once and wrote your response:
For fake dating? We need to establish rules. Unless you’ve already chickened out …
You passed the slip back to Jungwon.
Within seconds, he handed the paper back to you. His response read:
I didn’t chicken out. We don’t have much time between classes but as long as you’re fine walking the same way as me we can do it then. Make it quick though. I don’t want to be seen with you if I don’t have to be.
You stifled a laugh, and quickly wrote back:
You agreed to this, man. You’re gonna have to get used to being seen with me anyways
Jungwon read your written message and rolled his eyes. He crumpled the paper up and shoved it somewhere in his bag, never to be seen again.
Minutes later, the bell rang. You packed up your items and waited for Jungwon to finish packing his up so you could leave the class. Once finished, he started, “So?”
“Let’s walk and talk,” you said, leading the way. Jungwon was quickly on your heels. You shrugged, “the hallways will be too loud for people to overhear anyway.”
Jungwon nodded and speedily made his way next to your side in the hallway. You were right, not only was it loud, but no one would be paying any mind to you two anyway. At least hopefully.
“First off, if anyone asks, from this moment on, you and I are dating, okay?”
Jungwon breathed out a little sigh and pursed his lips, “Yep. Let’s get onto the rules now. We’ve only got so much time.”
“Okay,” you started, “first rule: this only goes until the dance. We’ll go to the dance as each other’s dates, and after that, we can ‘break up’.”
For once in his life, Jungwon agreed with you, “Sounds fine to me.”
“Great. Have any ideas for rule two?”
“Uh…” he paused, trailing off in thought. “Hm. Who is allowed to know that we’re fake dating?”
“I mean, ideally no one. But because my two other friends know, I feel like as long as it’s someone you trust that’s not close with Wonyoung or Taesan then it should be fine for you to tell them. I can’t control what you do, though, so do whatever you want, I guess.”
“Okay,” he said, “so rule two: keep it on the down-low.”
You nodded your head at him, “I have a suggestion for rule three.”
“Go ahead.”
“We can do some PDA, but kissing is unnecessary.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay,” you continued, “rule four: if we need to ‘break up’ for any serious reason before the dance, that’s okay. We just need to let the other person know before we stage a break up.”
Jungwon nodded again, then turned his head to the left, “My class is over this way. We can message later about this.”
“Okay, see you.”
Jungwon walked into the classroom on the left and within moments, Wonyoung made her way to your side.
“Where did you come from?” You asked, surprised at her presence.
“I was walking behind you this whole time. Since when did you start going this way?”
You shrugged, “Since now.”
She painted a cheeky smile on her face, “And?”
“And what?”
“Don’t think I didn’t see you walking with Jungwon, Y/N! What was that about?!”
You feigned innocence, “Oh, nothing. Y’know.”
“I don’t,” she said, smiling widely, “I really don’t. Spill.”
“Well,” you replied, “I dunno, what do you think?”
“I think you two should date.”
You offered no response and just let your face form into a smile. Wonyoung’s eyes widened at you, “Y/N L/N. Don’t tell me.”
“Tell you what?” You responded with a smirk.
“There’s no way!” She freaked out, “You guys are dating?!”
“Possibly.”
“Y/N! I’m so happy!” Wonyoung smiled at you and grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. This was the most excited you’d ever seen her.
“I am too.” You said, “Could you maybe keep it on the down-low for now though? It’s really new.”
“Yeah, of course! Can I tell Taesan?”
“Go ahead, yeah,” you smiled at her, “I think he’d be pretty stoked too.”
Wonyoung pulled out her phone to text her boyfriend and a small silence settled between you two. Wonyoung was the first to break the silence once she sent the message:
“So, I was right about you two being cute together.”
You laughed, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wonyoung.”
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ix. MAKE UP YOUR MIND
It was already a week and a half into the fake relationship and you felt like your sanity was slowly slipping away from you.
Jungwon played soccer all year long, you’d learned, and you’d started going to his games and practices. Aside from the practices as a whole being excruciatingly boring, the games weren’t bad at all. You had to admit, Jungwon was good at what he did. He had four practices during the week and two on the weekend. In the time since you’d started going to see Jungwon outside of school hours, you’d learned that he could be tolerable sometimes. Emphasis on ‘sometimes’.
You’d also learned that he was a very good actor. His teammates immediately accepted you as Jungwon’s girlfriend, and as a result, you’d earned an honorific position on the team.
It definitely helped that you could make small talk and pre-event plans when Jungwon drove you places in his expensive car. His car was probably more expensive than your family’s whole apartment.
But here you were, sitting on the bleachers at around 7pm on Tuesday night, watching Jungwon and his teammates practice. There were only about fifteen minutes left of practice, and then you were free to go home and potentially regret every decision you’d ever made.
The bright lights of the field were giving you a headache and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle this. You took a look at where Jungwon was located on the field, taking note of his focused face as he listened to his coach. Jungwon was one of the better players on the team, and it was evident to you because of the way he talked so passionately about the game. You hated to admit, but it was nice to see him talk so fondly about something for once rather than make unprovoked mean comments towards you.
Around five minutes later, Jungwon and the team suddenly dispersed from their coach and walked towards their bags. You rested your chin on your hand and watched his figure start making its way towards you. He slung his bag over his shoulder and jogged slowly to your spot on the bleachers.
Once he reached the barrier between you and the field, he sighed, “Hey.”
“Hi,” you said, “how was practice?”
Ever since you’d started ‘dating’ Jungwon, you’d made a point to try (at the very least) to be kind to him, even if it wasn’t in front of other people. You hoped that maybe through being kind to him, it might make him be kind back. Hopefully that would make the whole fake dating process a whole lot easier.
“It was fine,” he was short with his answer, yet not necessarily cold for once, “I’m tired.”
“You look like it.” You stood up from your spot on the bleachers and walked towards the barrier to meet Jungwon in the middle.
He checked his watch, “It’s good that we got out early. I have a shit ton of Calc work to do.”
Walking out from behind the barrier, you met Jungwon. He started walking to his car and you quickly followed.
“The packet?” You questioned, picking up the pace to match with his.
You and all your classmates had your work packet that was due the following day, which was Friday. You had already finished the packet a couple days ago and had turned it into your teacher, wanting to get it off of your mind if it was out of your sight.
“Yeah,” he said, “do you have the answers?”
“I don’t have them, no,” you admitted, “I already turned my packet.”
“Shit,” he quietly exclaimed, “I don’t know how to do most of them.”
“Oh,” you replied, “I do. I’m sorry that I don’t have answers.”
“It’s fine,” he rolled his eyes.
Suddenly, it looked like Jungwon got an idea.
He turned to you, “Wait. Are you doing anything after this?”
You racked your brain to think of anything, but nothing came to mind. You turned to look at him, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Do you wanna come over and help me?”
“To your house?” You questioned.
“Yeah,” he said, confused, “where else?”
“Oh,” you said, surprised, “are you sure you’d want me there?”
“It’s fine,” he replied, “it’s just this once.”
“I mean I guess so…” you pondered, “I don’t know. It’s a school night.”
Jungwon checked his watch again, “It’s only 7:09, I don’t think it should be too bad. Unless you have a curfew?”
“I don’t…” you admitted, “I guess I could help you. But I don’t want to make you drive me there and then have to drive me all the way back home. You already picked me up, plus it’s out of the way for you.”
“Consider me driving you as a payment for you helping me… I really need the help, and would appreciate it. You’re smart.”
For the first time ever, Jungwon complimented you. It left you in a state of shock, to put it simply; you had never expected to hear Jungwon compliment you, even while fake dating.
“Thanks,” you said, “I’ll help you.”
He said nothing more as the two of you finally reached his car. He loaded his soccer bag into the back of the car and opened the drivers side door, beckoning for you to do the same.
“I don’t live far from here,” he started the car, “so it’ll be a quick drive.”
You nodded in your spot while Jungwon reversed out of his parking spot. He shifted the car into drive and quickly pulled out of the school parking lot.
Like Jungwon said, the drive was extremely quick. It was only around three minutes, so Jungwon didn’t even bother putting on the radio. He opted instead to roll down the window and not speak.
You really shouldn’t have been surprised by Jungwon’s family estate. Given just by how much money his car seemed to cost, the grandeur of his home should not have come as a shock to you. But it still did.
The gate at the beginning of the driveway seemed inviting; it looked purposefully worn down. The somewhat dingy look of something that was probably not even a year old welcomed you in, in a sense.
The driveway looked freshly paved, the black color not ever changing from erosion. There wasn’t a single crack in the pavement, and it was lined with white pillars that had lamp light illuminating from the top.
Further up the driveway, you could see four other cars. Thinking about the total cost of all the vehicles combined sent a shiver down your spine.
The house itself, which was to the left, could barely even get by being called a “house”. It was easily more than ten times the size of your family’s apartment, and if not for the trees that surrounded it, you’d assume it was a lot taller than it actually was.
The brick was white and the front of the house had pillars driving up and down to support a black roof. The lights in the house were off, giving a stark contrast to the otherwise homely feel of the entrance.
Jungwon pulled the car into the parking spot closest to the house. Once parked, he loaded himself out and went to the back seat to grab his soccer gear.
“No one’s home but us,” he said, “but my parents have cameras everywhere, so we’ll go through the garage. Leave your shoes on the doormat.”
Jungwon led you through the garage, then into the large kitchen, followed by a large living space. He then flipped on a light switch and walked you to the foyer, which was a high-ceilinged room with white walls and stairs that cascaded towards the second floor. The balcony of the second floor overlooked the foyer, and there was a large chandelier hung at the top of the ceiling.
Jungwon beckoned you towards the hardwood steps, “My room’s upstairs.”
Your attention was brought away from the chandelier and you followed as Jungwon ascended the steps towards his room. At the top of the steps, there was a hallway that extended both left and right, and there was also the other side of the balcony.
This side of the balcony overlooked a different living space, but you didn’t get a good look at it before Jungwon tried to disappear out of your sight towards the right hand side of the hallway.
He passed by a few rooms with closed doors before opening the door to the final one on the right. Jungwon walked in first and left the door open for you to enter.
His room was just as large as you anticipated it to be, with large windows on two sides of the room and a king-sized mattress in the corner of the space. You bit back any comments about the size of his bed; he was a short man, why did he need that much space?
Jungwon turned on the lamp next to his bed and dropped his soccer bags at the foot of the bedframe. His backpack was lying right in front of the bedside table, already opened. You could assume that he’d already tried to start the Calculus work yet failed. Hence why you’d needed to come over to help.
Jungwon sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his backpack onto it. You stood very awkwardly in front of him, not sure what to do; you were almost waiting for instruction from him.
Jungwon scooted back on the bed with his backpack to make room for you. He beckoned towards the now empty seat for you to sit on. You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, not even turning your knees to face his body.
“You look really weird right now.” Here came back the Jungwon you were used to, the one who threw out any sort of comment he could at you.
“I’m sorry,” you said, turning back to him, “I’m trying to be cautious. I’m afraid you might insult me if I so much as lay a finger on your comforter.”
Jungwon, without you noticing, rolled his eyes. He sighed, “You can sit further back on my bed. I don’t bite.”
“I just don’t believe you, to be honest.” You remarked back at him.
Sighing again, albeit more frustratedly this time, Jungwon caught you by surprise by grabbing your wrist closest to him and slightly tugging you further back on his bed.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” he said, “I need your help. I won’t bite so long as you’re helping me.”
You finally turned to face him, taking note of how much closer you two were sat now that he had pulled your wrist. You looked down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist. He quickly removed his hand.
Adjusting yourself, you turned to face Jungwon on his bed, watching him pull out a binder, a pencil, and a calculator. He opened the binder, searching for a familiar white packet: the same one that’d you’d turned in earlier that week.
You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned over slightly to look at the problem that he was caught on. Jungwon noticed how you were sat across from him, and thereby couldn’t properly read the problem. He scooted his body more to the left of you and moved his binder so you could read.
The problem that Jungwon had attempted last had lots and lots of erased pencil marks all over it; he had clearly been struggling with it. You remembered also struggling with the same problem, but not nearly as much as he did.
“So this is one of the ones you’re struggling with?” You questioned, looking at him.
“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “I feel like she made this a lot harder than it should’ve been.”
“I had a hard time with this one, too, if it makes you feel any better.” You reassured him. Motioning to his calculator, you continued, “Why don’t you walk me through the steps of what you’re doing? Then I can show you what I did.”
Roughly fifteen minutes later and there were still eraser marks decorating the paper, yet not nearly as much as there were before. Jungwon was still confused, but had successfully worked through half of the problem he was caught on.
Jungwon groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time when you caught another mistake of his, “This is so stupid.”
“Hey,” you laughed, “I’m just trying to help you.”
“You know I didn’t mean you.”
There it was again, another positive comment from Jungwon, and this one sent a special beat through your heart. You chalked it up to just being not used to this side of Jungwon, not anything more.
“It’s okay,” you reassured, “I told you that I also struggled with this one. It’s not you, it’s the problem.”
You weren’t sure what came over you, but with the sudden kindness from Jungwon, you felt the need to return the gesture.
“I know,” he groaned, “I know. I just want to finish this problem. I have like four more to do that are the exact same thing.”
Jungwon flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. You slightly laughed at the boy; all that big, tough act just for him to crumble at a math problem.
“Why are you laughing?” Jungwon whined, not amused. He removed his hands from his face to look at you.
“I’m not,” you tried concealing your laughter, “I’m not. I swear.”
“You’re laughing at me,” he said, “I’m about to drop out of school and you’re laughing at me.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” you replied, “it’s just one math problem. Wanna take a break with me?”
“…Maybe.”
You got off of Jungwon’s bed and started, “Come on, get up.”
“Actually, changed my mind, I’d rather die here than take a break with you.”
Though his words seemed harsh, you could tell there were hints of joking in his tone. You smiled naturally at him, “Fine, be like that. I’ll just leave.”
“You don’t have a ride home, need I remind you.”
“But I have a phone,” you teased, pulling your phone out of your pocket, “and I have people I can call. Like Gyuvin or Minji.”
Jungwon sat up finally, tilting his head at you, “Who are they?”
You didn’t even realize that you’d mentioned your childhood friends with Jungwon; you had been so oddly comfortable in the moment that you’d just let their names leave your mouth.
“Oh, uh-” you started, looking down, “just, uh, friends from my old school.”
You braced yourself for him to make fun of your ‘poor’ friends as usual, but nothing came from his direction of the room. You looked back up at him to find him with the same expression he’d had while asking you about them.
“What did you want to take a break for?” He inquired.
“Oh, I didn’t need it,” you said, “I thought you might’ve needed it.”
“Oh.”
A blanket of silence temporarily fell over the room until Jungwon broke the quiet atmosphere, “Didn’t know you had it in you to be so caring.”
“Maybe you’d know if you didn’t try to get under my skin all the time,” you remarked, with hints of teasing, “I’m actually quite the caring person, you’d be surprised.”
“I’m not.”
You had no time to process what he’d said before he spoke again:
“Let’s get back to work. I need to focus so you don’t stay here any longer than you have to.”
And just like that, Jungwon was back to his normal self.
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x. I ALMOST SAID “I LOVE YOU”
The next following weeks that were leading up to the dance passed quicker in a blur than you’d like to admit they had; it seemed like just yesterday you had started fake-dating Jungwon, but in actuality it was coming up on around a month and a half.
In the time that you two had been “dating”, you’d become familiar with the soccer team, had gone to his house on multiple occasions, and even met his mother once.
Another uncertain familiarity had also made itself known: you were beginning to get used to being with Jungwon.
There had been many different occasions in which you’d felt yourself especially having let your walls down to the boy, and as more weeks passed of being “together”, the moments became much more frequent.
In particular, the last week had been particularly eventful for you.
The first strange event had occurred on Tuesday evening, when Jungwon, Wonyoung, Taesan, and you had all gone to the mall after school. Wonyoung was in need of some sort of new fur jacket for a family company event, or so she said. You had tagged along to help her find something suitable to wear, and she had told you that it was of the utmost importance that you were with her.
Taesan had joined because he wanted to pay for Wonyoung’s coat, being the caring boyfriend that he was. Taesan had also extended to invite to Jungwon to create the illusion of a double date.
While Wonyoung was in the fitting room of an expensive French store with a name you couldn’t even try to pronounce, Taesan had told you that he would hold onto the current items you had in hand and told you to try find some more different ones on the other side of the store. You happily obliged, loving the feeling of window shopping in a place you could never afford.
To your surprise, Jungwon had joined you without you asking or Taesan offering the idea to him.
The two of you quickly found yourselves in the coat designated area of the store, and you told Jungwon that you two should divide and conquer.
He listened to you, and set off in the opposite direction of where you were.
The first coat that caught your eye was cream colored, with what felt like a velvet inside and a chiffon outside. The sleeves and collar were decorated with what you could only guess was arctic fox fur. You loved Wonyoung, but you had a hard time getting behind her family’s necessity of wearing animal fur. It sent a shiver down your spine.
Looking at the price tag, it read $1,205. Your jaw slightly dropped, forgetting how truly expensive it was in there. You grabbed the jacket nonetheless, and started to make your way to try and find Jungwon.
Out of the corner of your eye, a glint of diamond found you.
You knew that you should have been getting back to Wonyoung.
But one look wouldn’t hurt, right?
You stalked your way up to the glass display slowly and spotted the most gorgeous pairs of earrings you’d ever seen in your entire lifetime. Next to the diamond pair that’d initially caught your eye, there was a beautiful silver chained necklace with what appeared to be a green gemstone encased in the center. It had to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
The employee noticed your wonder and walked over to speak to you.
“Hello,” the middle aged woman started, “see anything that you like, sweetheart?”
“Oh, uh-” you were startled, “Sorry. I was just looking.”
“I understand. We have a wonderful selection of jewelry. Are you looking at anything in particular?”
You shook your head, “No, um, I can’t. I’m here with a friend. This is way out of my price range.”
“I see, dear,” she said, pulling her glasses down from her head and placing them on her nose, “but that’s not what I was asking. Which one caught your eye?”
“Oh,” you laughed awkwardly, “I liked the diamond earrings a lot. The necklace with the small green gemstone is what kept me staring, though.”
“That’s a very popular one, the green gemstone. It’s a Colombian emerald.”
“It’s absolutely beautiful. If I had a job like this, I’d just spend all day looking at all the jewelry.”
The lady nodded, “As do I now.”
Suddenly, Jungwon appeared behind you, slightly startling you. You whipped around to see what seemed to be a concerned look.
“Hi,” you said, “I found something for Wonyoung.”
“I can see that,” he responded, looking down at the coat, then back at you, “but I was hoping more for you to find me. Taesan messaged me, asking where we were, because Wonyoung is still ‘hopeless’.”
“Oh,” you stuttered, “I got distracted. Thank you,” you turned to the woman as you started walking away, “and sorry about that,” you looked at Jungwon, “I got really distracted.”
“Yeah,” he slightly laughed, “I could have told you that. You should’ve answered your phone, I was worried.”
He was worried?
“You texted me?” You asked him.
Jungwon was worried?
“And called.”
Jungwon said he was worried.. about you. Weird.
You tried to ignore the slight skip in your heartbeat as you walked with him back to the fitting rooms.
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xi. TO SIP IT SLOWLY
The next strange occurrence was the following Thursday night.
As a celebratory event, Jungwon’s soccer team decided to have a party in honor of their hard work (and just to party).
It was no surprise that a group of boys like Jungwon’s soccer team would host an obnoxious party. It reminded you of the ones that came out of movies; there was plenty of underaged drinking, it was too loud, and shitty music was blasting from a speaker that was a room over.
The party was in full swing by the time that you had arrived, which was about an hour after it was said to have started. The reason for your tardiness could have been chalked up to one person only: Gyuvin. As an apology for him causing you to be late, he offered to drive you to the location where the party was being held.
You had tried texting Jungwon multiple times on your way to the party, but, to no avail, he didn’t answer. This alone nearly caused you to forget about even showing up.
You sent him one last text — “just arrived. Wya?” — before leaving Gyuvin’s car and walking up the lawn of the house. While you went to the door (alone), you repeatedly checked your phone to see if Jungwon had messaged you back:
No.
The front door was unlocked when you reached it, and the foyer was empty. From a couple rooms away, you could hear music being blasted from a speaker. Hoping for the best, you decided to follow your gut and head that way.
The music was coming from the basement, which was down a hall then through a door that led to a flight of stairs. As you approached closer and closer to the basement door, you braced yourself for the potential of going deaf.
With still no text back from Jungwon, you opened the door and began walking down the stairs towards the main event of the party.
The first girl to acknowledge your presence was a girl named Noh Yunah, who was best friends with the girl who hosted the party: Park Minju. Minju was in a long term relationship with Anton Lee, the head captain of the team.
“Hey,” Yunah started, “you’re Y/N, right?”
“Yeah,” you made your way to stand next to her. Yelling over the music, you continued, “I am. You’re Noh Yunah?”
“I am!” Yunah smiled at you. “Where’s Jungwon?”
You slightly flushed at the sound of his name. You forgot that everyone here was in relation to the soccer team somehow, so of course they’d only know you as Jungwon’s girlfriend.
“Beats me,” you laughed, “I texted him earlier but he didn’t respond.”
“Weird,” Yunah responded, “I’m pretty sure that he was talking about you earlier. I just assumed that you two would have shown up together.”
“Yeah,” you said. Looking past Yunah, you couldn’t see anyone that resembled Jungwon. Sighing, you continued, “I had plans beforehand though. They unfortunately made me late.”
“Girl, I understand,” she laughed, “I hate these stupid parties most of the time. If I had other plans, I’d rather be there. Unfortunately, everyone that I’m friends with is here. I’m just glad there’s another girl.”
Suddenly, Park Minju made herself known from beside Yunah. She smiled, “I’m so relieved that you came, Y/N. Jungwon never stops talking about you at lunch. I needed to meet you finally so he would shut up.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure if she was being nice or if it was a backhanded compliment. Either way, both girls were right; it was a complete relief to have other girls there.
But their behavior kind of puzzled you, too. Had the three of you been in a school setting, they probably wouldn’t have looked twice at you. If they did, it probably would’ve been to make a snarky comment.
Okay, maybe you were being too harsh on these girls. You’d never met them before.
But, in the same breath, you could never truly be too sure about Ivy Hills students.
Minju looked at your awkward stance, then laughed, “Do you want a drink?”
“Oh,” you started, “no. I don’t drink. Thank you though.”
“Suit yourself.” Minju raised a teasing eyebrow and smiled, then walking away to the big circle of people in the middle of the room — that same Jungwon-less circle you’d seen earlier.
Yunah looked at you, “Are you okay?”
You snapped out of your thoughts, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, um… wondering where Jungwon is.”
“Hey,” she grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you closer so you could hear her better, “Sorry about Minju. I swear she likes you. She just doesn’t do well with new people.”
You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “That’s good to know. I think I might actually take her up on her drinking offer, though. Is there anything non-alcoholic?”
Yunah bit her lip, “I’m not sure. Everything’s in the kitchen. Want me to come check with you?”
“No,” you reassured, “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”
You left Yunah and ventured back up the stairs towards where the kitchen was, which was off the hall. There were a few people in there already, looking into coolers and what you could assume was Minju’s parents’ liquor cabinet.
You crouched by a cooler with no one nearby and fished through it, looking for something tame, like a soda. Your best bet was either a safe ginger ale or something new: a Jack Daniels wine cooler.
You didn’t know anyone at the party.. and you had school the following morning, that you couldn’t risk skipping. But maybe one wine cooler wouldn’t be that bad…
You stood up from your crouching position and walked to the kitchen counter where you placed your drink. Cracking it open, you took your first sip.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket with a text from someone you had been waiting on:
Jungwon.
It was a simple text — “Hey” — but you felt your heart skip a beat. Perhaps the alcohol had entered your system quickly.
You quickly responded — “Where are you??” — to his text and placed your phone face down, leaning your back against the counter to face the open doorway.
As if on cue, a familiar lean figure walked through the doorway, almost making you choke on nothing. Unknowingly, your face broke into a little smile of relief.
Jungwon nodded to whoever the other people were in the room (who were still scavenging for drinks) before walking over to you.
“Where have you been?” You questioned teasingly once he made his way over to you.
“Oh, around, y’know.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“I was out on the back porch with some of my teammates, why?” He looked at you, “You missed me?”
“You wish,” you laughed, “but no. I don’t know anyone here. I kind of need you here in order for it to make any remote sense of me being here.”
“Fair enough,” he shrugged. Jungwon glanced at your drink, then furrowed his eyebrows, “You been drinking?”
“It’s my first and probably last. We have school tomorrow, so even though I wanna fit in, I wanna keep my scholarship more than that.”
Jungwon chuckled at your words, “Smart girl, I guess. Wanna go downstairs?”
“We can, yeah,” you said.
Jungwon pushed himself off of the counter and led you back downstairs to the basement, but this time to the large crowd. They were all still sat in a circle, but the music was softer this time.
A couple of (assumed) teammates called out Jungwon’s name as he walked to find a spot in the circle, leading you with him. The two of you found a spot on one of the couches at the end. The spot had enough space for one person, but you and Jungwon squished to both be able to sit. He offered for you to sit on his lap, but you declined. The alcohol was making your face red enough.
You sat between Jungwon and one of his friends, Junhyuk, who everyone called “Win” for some reason. Assuming he played for a school team and was the star player, that would make sense. But you still thought it was weird nonetheless.
The conversation was still flying at a million miles per hour once you’d sat down, and you didn’t expect to really understand anything. Your main goal was to just sit there nicely and then go home once Jungwon left.
The last thing you’d expected to happen was Jungwon to slowly slither his right arm around your waist and place his hand on your hip nonchalantly. Your eyes widened at the occurrence, but Jungwon seemed unfazed.
Junhyuk was very obviously drinking and had been for some time, so when he leaned over jokingly and asked how “serious” you and Jungwon were, you weren’t exactly shocked that he’d made a comment about you two, especially given that your “relationship” was the most recently established.
A couple other people had overheard Junhyuk’s comment and laughed, causing Jungwon to raise an eyebrow at them.
“We’re very serious, Junhyuk, thank you for asking.” Jungwon commented with hints of snark in his voice, “And, also, thank you for hitting on my girlfriend! Just reminded me that I have the most beautiful woman this school has ever seen!”
“If she’s so pretty,” Junhyuk laughed, “why don’t you share? Especially if you know how much other people want her.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, there was no way he just said that. Another drunkard called from across the circle, “Jungwon, I’ll give you $40 if you trade places with me for the night.”
Jungwon’s pride turned into disgust within milliseconds, “My girlfriend is not an object. I will never let her around gross low-lives like you both if you ever say any bullshit like that again.”
Jungwon tightened his grasp around your waist. He then pulled you to be sitting on his lap, so that you wouldn’t have to be sitting next to Junhyuk anymore.
He whispered in your ear, “Sorry for making you come here.”
However, the boys’ drunk comments were deafened in comparison to the way Jungwon had your heart beating.
You were so fucked.
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xii. BUT I DONT GET BORED
The final occurrence actually happened the following day during your math class.
Many of the people that you were mingling with the previous night decided not to go to school the following day — which would be today — and unluckily for you, you didn’t have that option, so you sat quietly in your Calculus class like normal.
Jungwon, to your surprise, had decided not to skip school like most of his friends and teammates, so he was sat quietly in your Calculus class, too.
Around two weeks prior, your teacher had decided to change up the seating chart of the classroom, sending Jungwon nearly all the way across the room from you.
You were almost 100% sure that it was because your teacher had seen the two of you passing notes during lectures, but because she never mentioned anything to the either of you, you couldn’t be sure.
You took a peek at where Jungwon was situated on the other side of the room just for you to notice him already looking at you.
You gave him a little smile, but then quickly turned to look at your teacher instead.
The AP tests for the majority of your classes had already happened, but your final AP exam was on the following Monday, which meant your teacher was doubling down on the review work and studying for you and your classmates.
Your teacher had randomly assigned everyone into either A team or B team, and today’s review session was to be a team vs. team test. You were hoping that by some miracle, Jungwon would get sorted into the same team as you; the two smartest people in the class — and in your whole grade, for that measure — being on the same team meant a guaranteed win for that team.
But, unluckily for you, he got assigned to B team, and you were stuck in A team. Once the sorting was complete, Jungwon caught your eye from across the room and mouthed a quick “sorry” while frowning.
You gave him a small smile that said “it’s okay” before turning to your teammates.
The desks had been pushed all together but separated in the middle (to distinguish between the two teams’ spaces) to create more space for everyone to “work together”.
You knew damn well in your mind that “working together” for your team most likely meant that they would make you (and maybe one other smart person if you were lucky) do all the equations and then just take credit for your work.
Your hunch was proven correct when you were onto your fourth problem in the process with the teams at 1-2. Your team was winning, but you were beginning to stress. If B team finished the equation first, the teams would be tied up.
Even though the exercise was supposed to be “fun”, it seemed to be fun for everyone except for you. The feeling of roughly 6 or 7 classmates breathing down your neck in wait of you finishing a problem only made you want a cry.
Moments later, a member from B team stood up and ran to the teacher to show her the answer and the work done. While all your classmates were watching in anticipation to see if she got the answer or not, you continued to work on the problem. You couldn’t join them in watching, because on the off chance that she made a mistake in her work, you needed to be prepared to swoop in with correctly done work at any moment.
Alas, to your dismay, your teacher chimed the bell that signified a correct answer.
One of your teammates gave you a dirty look.
Trying your best to ignore them, you focused onto the whiteboard and waited for your teacher to write down the final problem of the competition.
It didn’t take long for you to be reimmersed into the world of Calculus and try your hardest to finish the problem first. It wasn’t easy to focus when your teammates were breathing down your neck, though.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, you had nearly completed the problem when your opponent, Leehan, quickly ran up to your teacher to hand her the answer sheet with his work.
While she was grading the work, your teammate, Haruto, was urging you to finish while cursing under his breath at you, but not quietly enough for you to not be able to hear.
The bell chimed, signifying your team lost.
A cheer erupted from the other side of the classroom while Haruto snatched the paper from you and crumbled it up. He rolled his eyes, “Nice work, trailer trash. You’re more stupid than I thought.”
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungwon’s neck snap in Haruto’s direction.
While his team was cheering, Jungwon decided that instead of joining in, he would make sure he didn’t just hear what he thought he did from Haruto.
“What did you just call her, Watanabe?”
At this point, not only did you and Haruto notice Jungwon, but the majority of your teammates did, too. While some opted to pretend they didn’t see anything, some of the other ones turned their full attention to the interaction.
“Why do you give a fuck, Yang? You’re not on this team, so you shouldn’t even care that she made us lose. You won.”
“Maybe I did, but if you wanted to win, you should’ve helped her, instead of standing there like the bum that you are,” Jungwon scoffed, “because it’s no secret, Haruto, that you’re a lazy loser who rides off other people’s success to create your own.”
Haruto’s face morphed into an unrecognizable expression.
Jungwon continued, “In case you didn’t notice, your ‘personal math problem-solver’ here was doing the work with you breathing your hot breath down her neck.”
Catching more people’s attention now, he raised his voice a bit, “None of you did anything and you’re complaining that you lost. Y/N is lucky that exams are solo activities because she definitely won’t need any of you to rely on for answers. I’m glad that at least one person in this class is smart-”
Your teacher cut him off, “Yang Jungwon, that’s enough. Please go take a seat.”
Once Jungwon sat down, you couldn’t help yourself from sneaking a look at Haruto’s face, which hasn’t even changed a bit since Jungwon insulted him.
You laughed to yourself, thinking about Jungwon. Maybe losing wasn’t so bad after all if that was the result.
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xiii. NEVER KNEW I COULD FEEL THIS MUCH
The sudden comfort that you had found in the man you once despised terrified you.
It terrified you so much to the point of you declining Wonyoung to a hang-out twice this weekend, for fear of Jungwon being there.
You were sure that by the third time, Wonyoung could tell what was up. So, it didn’t entirely surprise you when she showed up at your family’s apartment door that same night she texted you.
“You have a bit of explaining to do,” she started once you opened the door to her.
“Hello to you too.”
Wonyoung stepped past you to walk toward your room, you trailing behind her by a few paces. You watched as she sat herself right on your bed and sent you a look that said ‘sit here’.
Once you sat, she immediately started, “Why have you been avoiding hanging out with me?”
“I haven’t,” you lied through your teeth, “I’ve just been… busy.”
She furrowed her brows at you, “Busy with what? Your boyfriend?”
You tensed subconsciously at the word, but responded, “No… just school, I guess. Even though AP tests are over, I still have some schoolwork.”
Wonyoung squinted, “Like what?”
“Just… papers and stuff.”
“You’re a bad liar,” she complained, “but whatever. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I won’t prod.”
You nodded thankfully at her, looking away, “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t seen any other friends.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes and standing up, “No, Y/N, that doesn’t make me feel any better. That makes me feel depressed on your behalf.”
You sent her an annoyed look.
“Anyway, since I’m already here, we should go do something. I miss my best friend.”
You smiled a little at her and also stood up.
As if on cue, you received a text from Jungwon:
Wanna go do something fun tonight?
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xiv. LOST TRACK OF TIME AND SPACE
That Saturday after, you were once again with Minji and Gyuvin in your family’s apartment. This time, you weren’t being dramatic or even complaining about Jungwon. Instead, Minji decided to bring up the man herself.
“Y/N, I saw on your story last night that you went to a party.”
“Yeah,” you started, “I did, so what?”
“Since when are you a party person?” Gyuvin butted in, antagonizing you.
“I’m not, obviously,” you sighed, “I hid in the bathroom for most of it anyways. It was loud and obnoxious, and I only went because Jungwon asked me to go as his date.”
“Hm,” Minji hummed, “seems like he’s pretty serious about you, given that he asked you to go as his date to a party.”
“What’s even funnier is you went!” Gyuvin laughed from his spot on your bed.
“What’s so funny about that?” You interrogated, snapping your neck to look at him.
“Nothing, nothing.”
You shook your head at him, rolling your eyes slightly. Minji spoke next, “It is a bit funny. Y/N L/N, the well-known party-goer.”
“Look, I only went because he asked, okay? You guys both know damn well that I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” You scoffed, surprised at their audacity.
Minji laughed, “And since when are you one to listen to what Yang Jungwon asks of you? The Y/N that I know wouldn’t have said yes in a million years.”
“It was important to him, okay,” You replied, “and he was insisting that I go. For public image reasons.”
“And now you care about what’s important to him,” Gyuvin piped up, “the plot thickens!”
You sighed, “It’s really not as big of a deal as you guys are making it out to be.”
“Listen, Y/N,” Gyuvin continued, “never did I ever think that you would ever go to a party, let alone with someone you claim to ‘hate’. I think you’re starting to like him.”
Minji laughed and you widened your eyes as you felt your face slightly flush at the thought. Was it that obvious?
“Oh my god, Gyuvin is totally right! Y/N, you liiiiike Yang Jungwon!” Minji sang to you.
“I do not,” you felt yourself retort like an elementary-aged school girl, “I do not! I swear it’s nothing. We’re just fake dating and that’s it.”
Minji kept laughing, “Sureeeee, Y/N. We both believe you!” She continued taunting you, high-fiving Gyuvin.
“You guys are so sick for this…” you grumbled, trying to push away your feelings for Jungwon further down.
“You’re just mad we’re never wrong,” Gyuvin said, “oh, and, by the way, you only have a week until you get your money.”
You felt your eyes slightly widen and your heart skip a beat or two.
Had time really flown by that quickly?
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xv. HARDER TO HIDE THAN I THOUGHT
Two days had passed and you were scheduled to attend a double date with your “boyfriend”, Wonyoung, and Taesan. It was, pretty obviously, Wonyoung’s idea. But, because you didn’t want Jungwon to assume you suddenly hated him, you agreed to go.
Around an hour before the date, Jungwon suddenly texted you — “Hey, I’m omw to get you a bit early. I wanna talk before we see them” — and you felt your soul temporarily leave your body.
You and Jungwon hadn’t talked very often in the past week, because you had been avoiding him like the plague, trying to deny and drown out your feelings towards him.
Jungwon didn’t live too far from you, but it was far enough that you had at least fifteen minutes to freak out about his text message.
What could he possibly want? Was he going to confront you about avoiding him? What would you say, if that was the case?
You ran to the bathroom to touch up your outfit, makeup, and hair quickly, not wanting to present yourself badly in front of him. As in denial as you were, a small part of you knew that you did like the boy, and wanted to look pretty for him.
You were wearing a fairly plain outfit:
A white lace cami under a red short sleeve shirt, some secondhand baggy jeans, and some old clogs from your mother. You sported the look with an old (most likely faux) brown leather jacket from your father.
As for your hair, it was loosely braided into two braids and tied with a ribbon. You pulled some hair out to give it a more “effortless” look, but you were slightly afraid it came off as you trying too hard.
Your makeup was minimal, but this left you worried you did too little. You added slight highlights to the inner corners of your eyes to make them pop.
Arriving 10 minutes earlier than you anticipated, you heard a knock at the door, knowing immediately who it was. You looked over yourself one last time before leaving the bathroom.
As soon as you opened the door, Jungwon’s once grim face lit up at the sight of you, “You look nice.”
“Thanks, I like to think so too, sometimes.”
He scanned your whole body and face before slightly smiling. He cleared his throat before asking, “Ready to go?”
You nodded, shutting the apartment door behind you, not bothering to lock it, as both of your parents were home at the hour. You laughed slightly, “Where are you taking me?”
Jungwon, leading the way down the steps towards the bottom landing of the apartment building, turned back for a split second to say, “It’s a surprise.”
Roughly another fifteen minutes later, Jungwon parked his car. He unbuckled his seatbelt and said, “We’re here.”
You followed suit and once out of the car you looked around, “Where are we?”
“East Eden Park.”
Jungwon smiled at you as he started walking up a hill, beckoning for you to follow.
“Okay, why are we here?” You asked, your tone slightly laced with panic as you walked behind.
Jungwon looked over his shoulder at you, “I’ll explain when we get up to the top.”
Suddenly, you had the genius idea to beat him to the top. Smirking, you said, “Race you.”
Before Jungwon even had a second to register what you said, you took off up the hill and managed to get many paces ahead of him before he started running too.
To your surprise, you ended up beating him up the hill, to which you cheered in victory, “I win! I win! You suck!”
Jungwon laughed as he finally reached the top of the hill, “Okay, bragger.”
You settled down your laughing and cheering to take in the view around you, widening your eyes at the sight. It took your breath away momentarily, “Wow, this place is amazing. You can see the whole downtown area from here.”
“Isn’t it?” Jungwon asked, as he reached to be next to you.
The sun had just started to set over the horizon of the city, making the perfect spot to watch the sunset.
“This is oddly romantic,” you laughed, awkwardly, “thanks for taking me here.”
“You’re welcome. Will you take a seat on the grass so we can talk?”
You immediately sat down in your spot, “You don’t have to ask me that twice.”
Jungwon also sat next to you, so close that your hands almost touched. If not for the rules that you two had made, you would’ve reached and grabbed his hand. But deep down, you knew you’d strangle yourself if you ever broke the unspoken fifth rule:
Don’t catch feelings.
Sighing to yourself, you trained your sights on a familiar building. You nudged Jungwon, “Hey, did you know that’s where my dad works?”
“Wait, which one? Your pointing skills suck.”
“Right there, second to the right on the bottom. Big brown building.”
Jungwon squinted his eyes, still not seeing what you were talking about.
“Dude, the one at the very bottom. Not the gray one.”
Jungwon sighed, “I give up. I can’t see it.”
“Really?” You said, exasperated, “You can’t see the brown building that says ‘Armstrong & Dennis’ above it?”
“Ohhh, I know that one. My dad’s a shareholder in that company.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, “Great. Thanks for reminding me of our societal class difference.”
Jungwon chuckled, nudging you, “You know that’s not what I meant when I said that.”
“Yeah, whatever, rich boy,” you nudged him back, “So, why’d you bring me here?”
“Oh,” he said, reminded of the reason, “I wanted to talk, um, about next week.”
The words Minji and Gyuvin were teasing you with appeared back in your head:
Only one week.
You tensed slightly and laughed, “Oh, I forgot about that.”
He stayed silent.
“So… what did you want to exactly discuss?” You questioned, looking at him. His eyes were still trained on the sunset-stained skyline, not moving. You wondered what he was thinking about.
He broken his silence after a minute, “Just… logistics, I guess.”
“What logistics?” You asked, “I thought it was just that we would go to the dance together, and then ‘break-up’.”
“Well, yeah, but…” he trailed off, not even continuing his sentence.
“But?”
“Y’know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, finally looking at you, “because you’re right, we’ve already talked about it. Guess I’m just psyching myself out because I don’t know how Taesan and Wonyoung are going to react.”
“Understandable,” you said, “I mean, I do like hanging out with you though. Or, at least, when you’re nice to me. I’m sure we can stay friends after this whole fiasco is over.”
Jungwon took a long pause.
“Yeah… friends.”
You didn’t respond, instead opting to look at the way the sunset looked that evening, even taking out your phone to snap a photo of it.
You then got an idea, turning to Jungwon, “Wanna take a picture?”
He seemed genuinely surprised at your question, stuttering out a quick “sure” before posing next to you in your picture.
You flipped the camera to selfie mode and posed with a quick peace sign and slightly puckered lips. Jungwon copied your pose, but with a close-mouthed smile instead.
“Okay, wait, one more.” You insisted to him.
This time, you stuck your tongue out and widened your eyes, and he made a screaming face. You both laughed at the funny pictures before Jungwon got a call and picked it up swiftly.
“Yeah, we’re on our way.”
It was all he said before hanging up and standing up, “Hey, let’s go, or we’ll be late for dinner.”
“Okay, okay,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground and following Jungwon to his car.
The next ten minute drive was eerily silent. Not even comfortable silence, but instead a silence that felt like it was sitting on both of your chests— as if there was something that needed to be addressed, but you were both too afraid to acknowledge it.
You let out an unknowing breath of relief when you arrived at the restaurant where Wonyoung and Taesan were already waiting outside for the both of you.
As if on instinct, Jungwon grabbed your hand as you walked towards your friends at the door of the restaurant. You tried to pick up on their conversation, but it seemed like your mind was too foggy to even function that night, with nothing being able to even be clear.
However, there was one thing that night that couldn’t leave your mind:
Jungwon’s grip on your hand felt a little tighter than usual.
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xvi. ARE YOU MINE?
One day before the dance, you were with Wonyoung in her family’s mansion and just hanging out as usual. Your conversations had been extremely honed in on the elephant in the room: the dance. Wonyoung tried on her expensive gown for you, and even asked you to help her style it. You two had practiced hairstyles, and even discussed when you would be coming over the following morning to get ready with her.
The dress you had bought was much less glamorous than hers, but even though she offered to let you borrow one of her “family event” dresses, you politely declined, insisting that you go with the dress you bought, because Jungwon liked the color.
Just as you were finishing up a hairstyle YouTube tutorial, you got a sudden call from Jungwon. You turned to Wonyoung, saying, “Hey, I’m gonna take this real quick.”
You walked out into her hallway and then into the guest bathroom to answer the phone.
As soon as you answered, he immediately started rambling, “Hey, Y/N, I know you’re with Wonyoung right now, but is there any way we can meet up late tonight? I have stuff I need to go over with you.”
Trying to understand him through his rambling, you just agreed, telling him to pick you up from Wonyoung’s at 10:30, which was in 15 minutes. You knew for a fact that Wonyoung wouldn’t care, because for one, she would be seeing you tomorrow morning anyways, and for two, you had planned on leaving at 10:30 anyways, but this time it would be Jungwon driving you, and not Wonyoung back home.
As soon as he heard your confirmation, Jungwon immediately hung up. You shook your head a bit, confused.
You walked back into Wonyoung’s room, letting her know that Jungwon would be coming to get you and drive you home. She nodded, still working on fixing her attempted hairstyle.
You went back to one of her mirrors and undid your hairstyle, not wanting to spoil your potential look for the following day, and also not wanting to look dressy from the face up, because you were wearing a baggy tee shirt, athletic shorts, and ankle socks, which would soon be joined by your sandals that were on the bottom floor.
Jungwon sent you a text — “I’m here” — which made you say goodbye to Wonyoung and tell her that you’ll see her tomorrow at 11am. She only waved “bye” as you left, still preoccupied with her hair.
As soon as you slipped out of the front door of the Jang’s, you were immediately met with Jungwon’s car. He rolled down the passenger window and said, “Get in.”
You yawned a bit as you opened the door, not even questioning where he was taking you.
Roughly five minutes went by and you both arrived at your location, which, to your surprise, was the same park that he took you to only a couple days ago.
“‘Welcome to Eden’…” you read the sign as you unloaded yourself from the car.
Jungwon said nothing as he trekked up the hill, leaving you to catch up once again. This time, however, you didn’t race him.
Once at the top of the hill, Jungwon immediately sat down, inviting you to join him. You complied in milliseconds.
A silence again filled the area between you two before you broke it:
“It’s so picture-esque here.”
Jungwon nodded next to you, the lights from the downtown illuminating his expression, which was unreadable.
“So…” you started, “why’d you bring me back here?”
Jungwon took a deep breath, “I just like it here.”
“Wow,” you teased, poking him, “trying to bring me to his favorite places before he breaks my heart. Such a tragic love story.”
You laughed at your own joke, but didn’t fail to notice how Jungwon remained expressionless.
He sighed, “Yeah…”
Another minute of silence befell the two of you, this time you being too afraid to break it.
Out of nowhere, Jungwon started, “Do you think we should keep doing this?”
Caught off guard, you asked “What?”
“Like, fake dating,” he said, “for Wonyoung and Taesan, of course. I feel like it’ll be suspicious if we break up the day after the dance.”
You furrowed your brow, not against the idea, but confused nonetheless, “Uh… sure. But how much longer?”
Jungwon pondered for a moment before coming to a conclusion, “Until it feels right.”
Not daring to turn your head to him, you stared into the abyss with the most confused look of your life, not even sure what to respond with. Instead you fell onto your back, opting to look at the stars above instead of the city ahead.
Shortly after, Jungwon followed suit.
He broke the silence first again, “Which constellation is your favorite?”
“Oh, I have no clue,” you said, genuinely thinking about it, “I don’t think I’ve put much time into thinking about it, honestly. Maybe the Southern Cross? It’s pretty easy to spot.”
Jungwon hummed next to you. Then he grabbed your hand and made you make a pointer finger, guiding it to where he wanted you to point, “Mine is Bootes. Can you see it? It’s right…” he moved your hand slightly, “…there.”
“Yeah… yeah, I think so.” You replied, squinting.
“Do you see the big star at the bottom? Its name is Arcturus.” He let go of your hand.
“I didn’t know you knew so much about astronomy,” you laughed, “it’s endearing.”
Jungwon chuckled, “My maternal grandpa worked for NASA. As crazy as it sounds, I was born from generational wealth.”
You smacked him teasingly, “You don’t say!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, “crazy that the spoiled rich kid was born this way. And both his parents, too.”
You nodded, “Crazy. Would’ve never guessed. But, question, why do you like Bootes?”
“Oh, mainly because of Arcturus,” he replied, “because I can almost guarantee that there’s some sort of other life out there.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, “do you think they’re smarter than us?”
“Maybe.”
“Cooler?”
“Definitely not.”
“Do you think there’s a parallel version of you and I that are doing the exact same thing right now?”
Jungwon paused, “I hope.”
You smiled, “Who do you think wins in a fight, you or alien you?”
“Oh,” he laughed, “I’d definitely win. No question about it.”
“How can you be so sure? What if their species is naturally taller and stronger?”
“I’m smarter.”
“Sure…” you said, “so does that mean alien me would beat human you? Or would you finally one-up me for once?”
Jungwon laughed loudly at your comment, “Wow… you think you’re so funny.”
You peeked at him and smiled to yourself before looking back at the stars and sighing, “I think I’m starting to like Bootes, too.”
Once back in Jungwon’s car, the silence was more comfortable than previous times. This time, it’s as if you’ve let your heart completely out of its cage of fear without actually telling Jungwon how you feel. This time, you’re sure that somewhere along the lines, you started to fall for him. This time, you knew that he meant something to you.
Halfway through the drive, Jungwon started to talk about his intergalactic arch-nemesis again and how he was sure that alien Jungwon was not as cool as human Jungwon.
“You two are essentially the exact same, though, just from different planets.” You said as a counter argument.
“Let me ask you this,” Jungwon replied, “Do you think you’re better than your alien self?”
You thought for a second before answering, “No. I am her and she is me. I’m sure she’s great.”
Jungwon laughed at your reply, “Okay, that was a pretty nice response.”
“Thank you,” you said, “I like to think highly of my alien self, because if she’s anything like me, she probably doesn’t think the highest of herself.”
Jungwon’s face got a bit more serious as he pulled onto your street, “What do you mean?” He turned down the radio.
“Oh, I, uh,” you stumbled over your words, “I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party or anything, just…”
He parked the car and only looked at you.
“I’m sorry,” you laughed awkwardly, “that got depressing quick.”
“No worries,” he reassured, grabbing your hand and surprising you, “why don’t you think the highest of yourself?”
“Jungwon,” you said, uncomfortable, “you’re not my therapist. No need to worry about me-”
“No,” he cut you off, “I want to know. I mean, if anything, you’re miles smarter than me.”
You laughed a bit, “Um, thanks. But intelligence isn’t everything.”
He nodded, “Go on.”
“It’s just,” you started, “nothing really. It just sucks being the absolute poorest person at your school. No matter how high I score, or how hard I work, no one sees that. They just see my class background.”
Jungwon studied your face, “I’m sorry.”
“Wha-” you sputtered, “Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you were the one who did it! Well…” you paused, “actually you did. But that was a while ago. I basically already forgot.”
Jungwon doesn’t break his stare, “I wish I could help.”
You felt your heart race faster in your chest as you locked eyes with him, “Really… it’s okay. I swear.”
Something about the way that he was looking at you had you frozen. Sure, Jungwon had made questionable comments in the past, but nothing as simple as this specific look. You weren’t sure what it was.
Your eyes flickered down to his hand, still holding yours. You felt your heart rate pick up as you realized the proximity you were in.
As if nothing happened, Jungwon slowly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you like you were the only person on earth.
You felt your mind start to go fuzzy as you thought about him.
In that moment, it felt like you two were the only people alive to feel anything. It felt like all the world’s people’s emotions had swirled around the two of you, catching you in a deadly storm, of which neither of you wanted to escape.
In that moment, you felt everything and nothing all at once.
In that moment, it was just Jungwon.
And in that moment, you took the risk to lean into him softly place your lips on his.
The months of secret yearning spilled into the car and into the kiss. Before you could even realize what happened, you pulled away.
You were terrified. You swallowed deeply and looked at Jungwon, who seemed equally as shocked. You then mumbled a quiet “goodbye” as you left his car and ran into your family’s apartment complex.
You didn’t look back to watch him drive away silently.
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xvii. NEITHER OF US PLANNED IT
You knew you were screwed. You knew you were plainly, simply, just screwed.
There was no one you could talk about last night with. Wonyoung already thought you had been dating Jungwon for some time now, and Minji and Gyuvin knew you two weren’t actually together. If you told them what happened, you were almost 100% sure you would never hear the end of it.
You obviously wouldn’t talk to Jungwon about it, either. Why the fuck would you talk about the elephant in the room to the elephant in the room?
You’d been freaking out all morning and nothing was easing your mind. One way or another, you’d have to face Jungwon today. You were nearly sick to your stomach thinking about it.
You were already at Wonyoung’s, but you were silently freaking out in her guest bathroom while she was getting ready. You almost threw up while you thought about the night to unfold. Your hands were sweaty, stomach sick, and head hurting. You weren’t sure how you’d survive the evening.
You took a deep breath and walked back into Wonyoung’s room, her already finishing her makeup and hair, still dressed in her pajamas, as putting the dress on was the last step.
She turned her head to you with a concerned expression as you trudged through the door, not even trying to hide your emotions at this point.
“What’s wrong, drama queen?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at you.
You sighed dramatically into her mattress after flopping yourself loudly onto it.
“Okay…” she laughed, “Well if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“I just hate emotions.” You grumbled.
She laughed again, “Okay, me too. Wanna tell me why?”
You groaned, “No.”
Roughly an hour and half later, you two were both ready to be picked up by your dates. Before the dance, there were pictures to be taken, and a dinner to be eaten, and then you could finally go to the dance, which started at 7:30.
Taesan and Wonyoung chattered in the front seat while you and Jungwon remained dead silent, not even looking at each other.
The car ride stayed exactly like that during the twenty minute drive.
Once you all arrived at the park to take pictures, you lifted yourself out of the car and walked to wherever Taesan and Wonyoung were leading.
At the pavilion, you took the time to fix some strands of your hair and flatten any creases in your dress, which was blue, Jungwon’s favorite color.
Even though you were originally standing alone, Jungwon soon made his way towards you. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “You, uh… you dress well for the occasion.” You could tell that he was flustered, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you were too. You were just glad he didn’t bring up the incident from the night prior.
You laughed shyly, “I mean, of course. I was planning on getting my heart broken tonight after all.”
“I mean, we did agreed to keep this act going,” he replied, “We can’t have me breaking your heart while you look so pretty.”
Your heart started racing like you’d just ran a marathon. Trying to stay calm, all you could muster back was “thanks”.
Some pictures and a dinner later, you and your group arrived at the location where the dance would be held, which was none other than the downtown’s Music Hall.
As you walked in with Wonyoung, you tried to take in everything that you could, from architectural designs to the art on the ceilings to the over-the-top decorations that Ivy Hills had created for the event.
It didn’t take long for her to grab your hand and pull you along to talk with some of her friends, one of them including Park Minju, who you’d first met around a month ago.
You surprisingly relaxed a lot during the dance, having expected the DJ to only play classy songs, but you were entirely shocked when Fire Burning by Sean Kingston blasted through the speakers.
Around half an hour later, you found yourself on a balcony from the top floor of the venue, needing some fresh air after sweating as much as you did. You didn’t expect to dance as much as you did, but nonetheless you still needed a break.
It was a lot colder outside than you’d anticipated it to be, somehow forgetting that the sun had already set. You didn’t really mind, though, as you were too lost in thought to even pay any attention to the weather.
Almost exactly a minute later, you heard an all-too-familiar voice from behind you. He slowly approached to stand next to you and asked, “Are you okay?”
You nodded, too lost in thought to really acknowledge him, “Yeah.”
“What’s up?”
“Just…” you finally looked at him, “just a lot going on right now.”
He chuckled a bit, “I get it.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he tried to mimic your body language.
From inside the venue, your ears perked up at the sound of the DJ announcing the first slow song of the night, to which you groaned.
“What?” Jungwon questioned.
“Slow songs are just soooo corny. Especially at dances. It’s always either ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran or ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perri or ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis.”
Jungwon shook his head in disbelief, “So you don’t like slow dancing?”
“It’s not that I don’t like slow dancing,” you replied, “the songs are just overplayed and corny.”
“I mean…” he started, “I completely disagree. I think it’s romantic. But, okay.”
“Of course you wouldn’t get it,” you retaliated, “you’ve never been to a public school dance. PDA is off the charts. It’s gross.”
“I’m sure of it,” he replied, “but PDA is off the charts here, too. You just don’t see it because these weirdos go hide in the unisex bathrooms and-”
“Ew,” you cut him off, “ew, okay. Stop there please.”
Jungwon laughed loudly, “Listen, this is how I can tell you only know the surface of private schools.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’d like to keep it that way. We’re graduating this month anyway, and I’ll never have to see anyone here again if I don’t want to.”
“Sounds like a dream,” he said, “where are you going for school?”
“I haven’t committed anywhere yet, is that bad?” You winced.
“No,” he assured, “definitely not. My parents wanted me to go to Yale but I ended up on Brown. Took me months to choose between Brown and UCLA.”
“Oh my god,” you laughed, “I got rejected from UCLA. I’m stuck between MIT and Brown. Yale accepted me, but they didn’t offer me enough. There’s no way in Hell that I’m paying twenty thousand a semester.”
“Yale didn’t even waitlist me,” Jungwon sighed, “my parents were so mad. Their next choice was Princeton or Brown, so I chose Brown to make them happy.”
“My parents just wanted me to go to the state school,” you said, “…good ‘ol Virginia Tech.”
“Not a bad school,” he answered, “but I understand your parents’ concerns. Moving out of state is hard. You’re their only child, too.”
“Yeah,” you shrugged, “I understood why. But I don’t think they understand how important education is to me… I don’t know.”
Jungwon smiled, “Well, if you go to Brown, just know you’ll have a friend there.”
You smiled back at him.
Noticing the song was over, you muttered, “Thank god.”
Just then, through the speakers, you heard the opening violin notes to one of your favorite childhood songs that your dad used to play for you on his CD player: ‘Come On Eileen’ by Dexy’s Midnight Runners.
You gasp in excitement, “I’d much rather dance to something like this.”
Jungwon laughed at your reaction, “Well, then can I have this dance?”
You tried to fight your smile, “Why yes, you can.”
Jungwon stuck out his hand to you, but instead of you grabbing it to slow dance, you linked his arm with yours and started making him do a strange folk dance with you, making him spin and dip you, and trying to convince him to let you dip him, but with no success.
Just as the song started, it ended. The DJ announced over the speakers that the king and queen of the ball would soon be announced.
Without saying a word, you followed Jungwon into the building and down the steps, towards where the crowd was forming.
To no one’s surprise, the queen was announced to be Wonyoung, and her king to be Taesan.
As they did their dance, you leaned towards Jungwon and whisper-shouted sarcastically, “Who would’ve seen this coming?”
He laughed at your comment and replied, “Right?”
A moment passes before he leans over again and asks, “Do you wanna go get something to drink with me? I need some water.”
You nodded and followed him back up the steps to the second floor where there were still people, but much less crowded than the bottom floor.
As he was walking, he looked over his shoulder at you and said, “I can finally hear myself think now.”
Once he got his water, you both retreated back to the initial balcony that he found you on earlier in the night. The silence was comforting, and you caught yourself trapped in your thoughts again.
Out of nowhere, Jungwon suddenly broke the silence:
“Did that kiss mean anything to you yesterday?”
Completely caught off guard, you replied, “Huh?”
Without missing a beat, he explained, “Like, when I dropped you off yesterday. Did that mean anything to you? I’m just confused ‘cause- I mean, I know it wasn’t for show. It was only the two of us in the car. I- I just want to know.”
You took a second to even process what he said to you. Sure, it was inevitable that he was eventually going to bring it up. But you didn’t think now was the moment, especially so soon.
Trying to find the right words, you responded, “Oh, um… I don’t know if this is a conversation we should have here and now… I mean… there’s people around and…”
Jungwon nodded stiffly.
“I…” you trailed off, “I think I’m going to go back downstairs.”
And just like that, you left Jungwon alone again.
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xviii. ROLLER-COASTER KINDA RUSH
For the next few hours of the dance, you didn’t see Jungwon at all. In fact, he didn’t even ride with you, Taesan, and Wonyoung to Wonyoung’s afterparty. You were starting to worry that by you deflecting the conversation earlier, he took it as a rejection.
The next time you saw Jungwon was an hour into Wonyoung’s afterparty. You caught the slightest glimpse of him in the kitchen, but just as you’d seen him, he’d disappeared from your sight. You were beginning to believe you had started hallucinating him from how much he was driving you crazy.
However, once outside, you’d seen Jungwon’s car parked on the street across from Wonyoung’s mansion, and sighed in relief when you realized you weren’t actually losing your mind.
Near the end of the afterparty, Jungwon snuck up on you.
“Hey.”
You jumped, startled from the sudden appearance, “Hey. I haven’t seen you all night.”
His only response was a simple and short “yeah”. Before you both fell into an uncomfortable silence.
A couple of seconds later, Jungwon asked you, “Do you want a ride home?” He held up his keys.
You smiled at the gesture, knowing that otherwise, you’d have to find someone else to drive you home, and although Taesan drove you there, and he’d likely be staying the night, leaving you to fend for yourself.
“Sure.”
With the party already dying down, you made sure to say goodbye to Wonyoung and thank her for hosting. You gave her a small hug and watched as Jungwon dapped up Taesan.
The both of you walked to Jungwon’s car in silence down the driveway.
However, this time, you decided to bite the bullet:
“I think we should talk about what happened yesterday.”
You noticed Jungwon almost freeze in his spot for a second but he continued walking to his car.
All he could mutter out was another “yeah”.
Once you reached his car, he quickly put it in gear and started driving you home.
Jungwon didn’t say anything until he almost reached your apartment. He parked his car on the street, and got out to walk you to your door.
He sighed, yet started, “Listen, I know you’re getting paid from this. But we never needed to kiss to seal the deal…” he trailed off, “so I really don’t understand why that was a necessary part to the whole act and-”
“That wasn’t about the money.” You cut him off.
Jungwon slowly turned to look at you, confused, “What?”
“It-” you stumbled over your words, “it stopped being about the money a while ago.”
A small and barely audible “oh” escaped his lips, with an unreadable face.
“I-” you started, “I- I know that we’re supposed to sell this,” you motioned between the two of you, “thing for a long longer. I know that because we both agreed on it. But…” you trailed off, not sure what to say next.
You took a deep breath, “But what I say next might change the trajectory of this… friendship…” you shook your head, “…or whatever this is.”
Jungwon said nothing.
“But the truth is, I-” you sighed, defeated, “I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. Not because of the stupid money, and not because of the validation I’d get from Wonyoung and Taesan.”
He stood still, motionless, still with an indecipherable expression.
Nearly to tears with frustration and stress, you continued, “I kissed you because… because I felt like it was right in the moment. And- and it’s okay if you don’t feel that way. And if that is the case, then I’m sorry for kissing you and making things weird between us.”
Sighing one last time, “And I know the unspoken rule of this whole thing was to not have any actual feelings for each other, but-”
“Y/N.” Jungwon cut you off.
Afraid that you went overboard, you muttered sheepishly, “…what?”
“Please,” he said, taking a step closer, “please, stop talking.”
You frowned, “Did I say too much?”
“No,” he laughed, “but if you never stop rambling, I won’t be able to tell you how I feel.”
“Um,” you said quietly, “sorry, what?”
You weren’t sure exactly what Jungwon meant by ‘telling you how he felt’ but you were nearly bracing yourself for the worst. You decided to keep quiet as to not disturb him.
“I want you to know something right off the bat,” he started, “okay?”
You nodded but still didn’t say anything.
“It was never about Wonyoung and Taesan for me,” he laughed, “Hell, I’m the reason that we were all forced to hang out, the four of us.”
He sighed, “Y/N, I’ve always admired you, but I never knew how to deal with it. Why? Because in all of my life, I have never had a girl distract me from school as badly as you did.”
Your eyes widened at the confession.
“The only reason that I’m ranked 2nd in math for our class is because you are 1st,” he continued, “And I used to really hate you for it, because who did this pretty girl think she was, coming into my school and usurping me of my top rank in the class?!”
You felt yourself flush at the compliment, but tried to stay as calm as possible.
Jungwon calmed down, “But… at a point, I realized that you never did it to spite me, and you were genuinely just that smart. Then, I got over myself.”
You nodded with furrowed eyebrows.
“But,” he sighed, “I knew I had already pushed your buttons so hard to the point that I really thought there would be no point of return…”
“…So, when you brought up the idea of fake dating me, I immediately said no, because I knew it wouldn’t end well for me,” Jungwon laughed bittersweetly, “But then you challenged me. And I love a challenge.”
You felt your heart flutter at his words, now noticing how closely he was standing to you. You opened your mouth to try and form a response, but the only thing that you said came out in a whisper:
“Wow… I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled brightly at you, grabbing your hand.
“I don’t think words can be used in this moment.”
As if he’d been doing it forever, Jungwon wrapped one arm around your waist and let the other cup your head. Slithering your arms around his back, you stood on your tippy toes.
This time, you knew you wouldn’t run away from his kiss.
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a/n : aaaand it’s over meow meow meow sorry for the long wait but it seemed like life hasn’t been on my side for the past year. hope u guys enjoyed tho <3 this was a bit too happy ending for me and not nearly enough angst but whateva
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