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#i'm posting this here to leave it with you all
romugh · 3 days
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THE WIDOW'S LACE - NR
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pairing- stripper!natasha romanoff x fem!reader
cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!natasha, strappie (n rcv), strappie suckie (r rcv), fingering (n rcv), oral (r rcv), rough'-ish' sex? - i think that's all!
wc- 7.7k (of pure smut) I'M SORRY I'M TRYING TO WRITE SHORTER FICS I PROMISE
a/n- part 1, because YES i have THREE parts ready for this. have fun reading! (big shoutout to @traveler-at-heart; your post made me go feral, i adore you)
synopsis- you find yourself in a stripclub, then suddenly you find yourself in a stripper.
taglist- @lost-mortemanghel - dm or comment to be added to my taglist! x
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Natasha wasn’t just any stripper. She was the stripper. The one everyone fell in love with the moment she stepped on stage. Her body moved like sin wrapped in silk, her confidence radiating like a flame that drew every pair of eyes in the club to her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and more importantly, she knew exactly what effect she had on people.
Men and women alike couldn’t help but stare, their lust and admiration hanging thick in the air as they watched her every move. She thrived off it, fed off the power she held over them. They came in hoping for a glance, a smile, a touch. And she delivered—just enough to keep them coming back, but never enough to give them what they really wanted. That was how she liked it. She held the control. Always.
But tonight, something was different.
Amidst the usual sea of desire-filled gazes, she noticed you. You weren’t like the others. Your eyes weren’t filled with the same desperation, the same helpless longing. You weren’t staring at her like she was a goddess to be worshipped. No, you looked at her like she was a challenge. Like you could see right through the seductive veil she’d carefully crafted. It made her stomach twist in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
As she danced, her eyes would flick to you now and again, curious and intrigued. She was used to adoration, not this steady, controlled gaze that almost felt like it was pulling her in. And when the set ended, when her body stilled but her heart raced, she found herself making a decision she hadn’t made in a long time.
She led you to the back room, a place few had ever been. Not because it wasn’t allowed, but because Natasha rarely felt the need to take anyone there. She didn’t need the intimacy the room allowed for, she didn’t crave connection. But there was something about the way you looked at her, like you were waiting for her to slip, waiting for the moment her confidence faltered, and it made her want to see how far you’d push her.
The door clicked shut behind her, the faint thrum of bass from the bar fading into the background as the two of you were swallowed by the dimly lit room. Natasha leaned back against the door, her chest still heaving slightly from the exertion of the performance, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.
“You think you’re something special, huh?” she asked, her voice smooth but with an edge of amusement, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. She tilted her head, watching you carefully, as if expecting you to crumble under her stare like everyone else did.
But you didn’t. Instead, you stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, the weight of your presence filling the small space. The air grew thicker with tension, and for the first time in a long while, Natasha wasn’t sure if she was the one in control anymore.
“Do you?” you countered, voice low and calm, your eyes never leaving hers.
Her smirk didn’t falter, but the challenge in your words sent a thrill through her, one she hadn’t expected. She straightened, pushing off the door slightly, closing the gap between you even more, her body mere inches from yours. She could feel your heat, and it made her pulse quicken despite herself.
“You’re not like the others,” she said, her voice dropping an octave as her gaze raked over you, taking in the steady confidence in your stance. “But you’re still here.”
“So are you.”
The silence that followed was heavy, charged with something that neither of you wanted to name just yet. Natasha could feel the tension, thick and suffocating, like static in the air before a storm. Her body was taut, her skin prickling with anticipation, but she refused to show it. She wouldn’t let you see the effect you were having on her. Not yet.
Then, in one smooth movement, you closed the remaining space between you, your body pressing into hers, pinning her gently but firmly against the door. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat at the sudden proximity, but she didn’t pull away. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
Instead, she lifted her chin, eyes defiant even as her pulse raced beneath her skin. “What’s your plan?” she asked, her voice still steady, but with a hint of breathlessness now, a tremor that betrayed the control she was so desperately clinging to.
Your lips were so close to hers now that she could feel the warmth of your breath against her skin. But instead of kissing her, you hovered, the tension between your mouths almost unbearable. She was used to people taking what they wanted from her, always rushing to close the gap, always desperate for her touch. But you held back, and that restraint was driving her mad.
“You’ll see,” you murmured, your voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest, her body betraying her, a flush rising in her cheeks as the weight of your presence pressed down on her. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next, and the thrill of that uncertainty coursed through her veins like fire.
Then, without warning, your hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back, forcing her to look up at you. Natasha gasped, her lips parting in surprise, but her eyes remained defiant, daring you to do more, to push her further.
“You want this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice steady, commanding.
Her lips curled into a smirk, though her breath hitched slightly under your firm grip. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice dripping with defiance, even as her body arched toward you, craving more.
“Then show me,” you demanded, and with that, you released her hair, watching as she slid down to her knees with a fluid grace that still spoke of her control, her pride. Even now, on her knees, she wasn’t submitting. She was choosing to allow you to do this, and that made all the difference.
She looked up at you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar challenge, and then her gaze flicked to the strap you had tucked out of your pants. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of it, soft and teasing at first, like she was still testing the waters, still holding on to that last shred of control.
But the moment she tasted it, something shifted. Her tongue darted out, swirling around the tip before she took it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. She wasn’t rushing, no, the Black Widow never rushed for anyone. But there was an urgency now, a tension in the way her hands gripped your thighs as she worked the strap deeper into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with effort.
You watched as she swallowed her pride along with the length of the strap, her eyes watering slightly as she struggled to take it deeper. But she didn’t stop, didn’t pull back. She pushed herself further, her throat constricting around it, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she gagged softly around the toy.
“Is this what you wanted?” you asked, your voice laced with dark amusement as you thrust your hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into her mouth. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her body trembling as she struggled to take more.
Her nails dug into your thighs, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you fucked her mouth, the wet sounds filling the room. Her control was slipping, piece by piece, and you could see the frustration in her eyes when she looked up at you, her gaze filled with a mix of defiance and need.
You pulled back suddenly, the strap slipping from her lips with a wet pop. Natasha gasped, her chest heaving as she panted, her lips swollen and red from the effort, saliva glistening on her chin. She looked wrecked, but not broken. Not yet.
“Something wrong?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
She narrowed her eyes. "You could help," she murmured, trying to regain some of the control she was losing, had already lost. 
“You want help?” you asked, your tone low, teasing. You pushed her head back toward the strap, watching her struggle against her own desire for dominance. She needed this—needed you—but she wasn’t ready to admit it, not fully.
Natasha’s lips parted, taking the strap back into her mouth, but you didn’t let her have it easy. Your hips thrust forward, forcing her to take it deeper than before. Her throat constricted around it, her eyes watering slightly as you pushed deeper. She gagged, her nails digging into your thighs, but she didn’t pull back.
"Is this what you wanted?" you asked, your voice harder now, more demanding. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, her body tense as you fucked her mouth, using her. The wet sounds filled the room, mixing with the faint bass from the bar outside.
Natasha choked slightly as you pushed in deeper, but she didn’t stop, her body trembling as she tried to take more of it. But you could see it—her frustration. The realisation that she wasn’t fully in control was pushing her over the edge.
Her breath was ragged when you finally pulled back, saliva glistening on the strap as she panted, lips trembling with effort. Her eyes met yours, and for the first time, she looked... needy. Desperate, even.
“You need more, don’t you?” you asked, gripping her hair tightly. “You think you can handle it?”
She didn’t answer right away, her throat working hard to swallow her pride along with the saliva pooling in her mouth. And then, quietly, she nodded. Just once.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please.”
That was all you needed to hear. You yanked her up by the hair, spinning her around and pressing her up against the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, but she didn’t protest. She wasn’t giving up, but she was giving in.
You crashed your mouth against hers, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for doubt. This wasn’t about control anymore—it was about possession. You bit down on her lower lip, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, her body arching toward you as if she couldn’t help herself.
Natasha's gasp filled the small room, her lips bruised and swollen from your punishing kiss. She should have hated it—the loss of control, the way you commanded her body with nothing more than your presence—but instead, it made her burn. Her skin was flushed, her breath coming in short, shallow pants as you pressed her firmly against the door, your hand still tangled in her hair, holding her exactly where you wanted her.
Her body betrayed her, arching into you, her hips moving instinctively, desperate for any friction to relieve the building pressure inside her. She was wet—soaking, even—and you hadn’t even touched her properly yet. The realisation made her cheeks flush hotter, though whether it was from embarrassment or arousal, she couldn’t tell.
You pulled back just enough to look at her, your eyes dark, predatory, as they swept over her flushed face, her heaving chest, and the slight tremble in her legs. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low rasp, sending shivers down her spine. “All that control you like to have… where is it now?”
Natasha swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, but she couldn’t find the words. She had no clever retort, no sharp quip to throw back at you. She was too lost in the way you were looking at her, too consumed by the need coursing through her veins.
Your grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head back slightly, forcing her to look up at you. “Answer me,” you demanded, your lips brushing against her ear, your breath hot against her skin. “Where’s all that control, Natasha?”
She shuddered, her eyelids fluttering as her body arched toward you once more. “Gone,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling with the weight of her admission. It was a small crack in her armour, but it was enough. The moment you uttered her off-stage name, the one no one else knew, Natasha’s brain short-circuited.
You smirked, satisfied with her answer. “Good girl.” The praise made her stomach flip, a rush of heat spreading through her as the words sank in. She didn’t realise how badly she had wanted it—needed it—until you gave it to her.
Without another word, you spun her around, pressing her chest against the cold, hard surface of the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hands splaying against the wood as she tried to ground herself. You stepped closer, your body pressing against hers from behind, your fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down her spine.
She was tense, muscles coiled tight, every nerve ending on fire as your hand slid lower, lower, until your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. The moment you touched her, a low moan slipped from her lips, her hips bucking back against you, desperate for more.
“Patience,” you murmured against her ear, your lips grazing her skin. “I’m not done playing with you yet.” Your fingers teased her, slipping through her slick folds, but never giving her enough pressure to satisfy the ache between her thighs. Natasha groaned, her head dropping forward, her forehead pressing against the door as she struggled to keep herself together.
But you didn’t let up. You kept her right on the edge, drawing out every gasp, every shiver, every desperate sound she made until she was trembling beneath your touch, her body begging for release.
“Please,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough for you. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear as you pressed two fingers deep inside her without warning.
Natasha gasped, her whole body jolting from the sudden intrusion, but she didn’t protest. She couldn’t. All she could do was moan, her fingers curling against the door as her body surrendered to the pleasure you were giving her.
You moved slowly at first, your fingers thrusting in and out of her with a measured precision, building her up, making her crave more. Her hips moved in time with your hand, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she chased the release that was just out of reach.
But then, just when she thought she might finally tip over the edge, you stilled your movements.
“No!” The word slipped out before she could stop it, her body still writhing, desperate for the release you kept denying her. She turned her head slightly, looking at you over her shoulder, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, don’t stop.”
You chuckled softly, your breath warm against her neck as you leaned in closer. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Begging for it. You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushing hot with shame and arousal. She should have hated the way you were toying with her, should have fought back, but she couldn’t. Not when her body was burning like this, not when she was so close to falling apart beneath your touch.
Your fingers curled inside her, pressing against that spot deep within her that made her see stars. Natasha moaned, her hips bucking back against you, her whole body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.
“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered against her ear, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart.”
It was all she needed. With a sharp cry, her body tensed, her muscles clenching tight around your fingers as she came hard, her release washing over her like a tidal wave. She gasped for air, her body shaking as you worked her through it, your fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was a trembling, panting mess.
When it was over, when her body finally stopped trembling, you pulled your fingers from her, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips as you watched her slump against the door, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat.
“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing now as you brushed a strand of hair from her face. Natasha shuddered at the praise, her heart still racing as she tried to catch her breath.
Before she could fully recover, you turned her around again, pressing her back against the door as your lips crashed against hers in a bruising, possessive kiss. Natasha moaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer, her body still aching for more, even after the intense release you’d just given her.
Your hands roamed her body, your fingers skimming over her bare skin. She shivered at your touch, her breath hitching as your hands moved higher, teasing the edges of her red corset.
“Do you want more?” you whispered against her lips, your voice dark and teasing.
Natasha nodded, her fingers tightening on your shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice soft and desperate.
She was still trembling, her breath ragged as she tried to recover, but you weren’t done with her yet. Not even close. You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing over her jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, her skin flushed, pupils blown wide as she looked at you with a haze of lust clouding her gaze. You could see how desperate she was, how badly her body was craving more, needing to be filled.
Your hand slid down her thigh, strong fingers curling around her knee as you lifted her leg, pushing it up to her chest. The position opened her up to you in a way that made your mouth water, giving you the perfect view of her already slick and swollen entrance, quivering and glistening with arousal. Her panties had been soaked through long before, but you ripped them down her legs now, tossing them aside without a second thought. Natasha whimpered, her fingers clutching at your shoulders as her body arched, her hips instinctively pushing toward you, searching for the friction she so desperately needed.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and dark with desire as your hand travelled back up her thigh, tracing the sensitive skin with teasing slowness. “So fucking wet and ready for me.” You reached between your bodies, gripping the base of your strap as you positioned it at her entrance, the thick head brushing against her slick folds. Natasha’s breath hitched, her whole body tightening in anticipation, her hands curling into fists as she pressed back against the door, trying to steady herself.
“Please,” she breathed, her voice barely audible, but dripping with need. “Please, I need it.”
You gave a low, satisfied chuckle, your eyes never leaving hers as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear. “I know you do, sweetheart,” you whispered, your voice a low rasp that sent shivers down her spine. You nudged the strap forward slightly, just enough to let the tip press into her, but not enough to give her the relief she craved. Natasha whimpered, her hips bucking toward you, desperate to take more.
“Shh,” you cooed, tightening your grip on the back of her thigh as you pressed her knee further against her chest, opening her up even more. “I’ll give you what you need, but I want to hear you beg for it.”
Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire, but she couldn’t deny how badly she wanted it—needed it. “Please,” she whispered again, her voice trembling. “Please, fuck me… I need it so bad.”
Your smirk widened, and without another word, you slowly pushed forward, the thick head of your strap finally pressing into her tight, wet heat. Natasha gasped, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her body jolted at the sudden intrusion. She was tight, impossibly tight, her walls clenching around the silicone in a way that made it difficult to press any deeper, but the resistance only made you want it more.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, her voice a high-pitched whine as you continued to push inside her, every inch stretching her further, forcing her to take more of you. “You’re—too big,” she panted, her head falling back against the door as her hips jerked forward, trying to accommodate the stretch.
“Shh,” you murmured against her neck, your lips grazing the sensitive skin as you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You can take it, baby. I know you can.”
Natasha whimpered again, her walls fluttering and clenching around the thick strap, trying to pull it deeper, even though it was almost too much. You could see how tight she was, almost feel how every ridge and fake vein on the strap dragged against her slick walls, sending shivers of pleasure through her body with every inch you pushed inside. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, her chest heaving as she struggled to take more of you, her body trembling with the effort.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groaned, your own voice strained with arousal as you finally bottomed out inside her, the base of the strap pressing against her soaked folds. Natasha cried out, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her hips jerked forward, trying to take you even deeper. She was stretched so wide around the strap, her walls clenching and pulsing around the intrusion, desperate for more.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and rough with desire as you glanced down at where your strap was buried deep inside her. The sight was sinful—Natasha’s leg pressed high against her chest, her pussy stretched around your thick strap, her slick juices coating the silicone and dripping down her thighs. “You look so fucking good taking all of this, baby.”
Natasha whimpered, her head tilting forward just enough to look down at the obscene sight between her legs. She could see the way her walls clenched around the strap, the way her slick arousal dripped down her thighs, and it made her body burn with embarrassment and desire. She was so full, so impossibly full, but she needed more—she needed you to move.
“Please,” she begged, her voice a high-pitched whine as her hips bucked forward, trying to get you to thrust inside her. “Please, I need you to move.”
Your smirk deepened, your other hand sliding up her thigh to grip her hip as you pulled back slightly, the thick strap dragging against her sensitive walls with agonising slowness. Natasha gasped, her whole body shuddering at the sensation, her head falling back against the door as her fingers dug into your shoulders.
“You’re so fucking tight,” you groaned, your voice low and breathless as you thrust back into her, the strap filling her once more. Natasha cried out, her body jolting at the sudden movement, her walls clenching around the silicone as you began to thrust into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Natasha’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body trembling as the pleasure built with every thrust. She was so full, so stretched, every inch of the strap dragging against her sensitive walls, making her burn with need. Her hips bucked against you, desperate for more, and you were all too happy to give it to her.
You quickened your pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the small room. Natasha’s cries grew louder, her hands clutching at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her body shuddered with every thrust. Her walls clenched around the thick strap, trying to keep you buried deep inside her, but you kept up your relentless pace, fucking her harder, faster, until her whole body was trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts.
“Fuck, you’re taking it so good,” you groaned, your voice rough with arousal as you watched the way her body shook, the way her pussy stretched around your strap.  Natasha’s leg was still raised high, your grip on her thigh unwavering, giving you that sinful view of her slick, swollen pussy stretched wide around the strap.
“Please,” Natasha whimpered, her voice a breathless moan as her body trembled beneath you. “Please, I’m so close.”
You leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her even harder, the thick strap filling her completely, dragging against every sensitive inch of her walls. “Then come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you come all over this strap.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, her body arching into you as the pleasure built to an unbearable level. And then, with one final, deep thrust, she shattered. A scream tore from her lips as her walls clenched tight around the strap, her whole body trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her gasping for breath.
The moment Natasha came undone, her body arched beautifully against the door, trembling violently as the wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched so tightly around the strap that you could feel the pressure even through the silicone, and the sight of her falling apart in your hands only fueled the fire raging inside you.
You didn’t let up, not even for a second.
With each pull of your hips, the fake veins on the strap dragged against her sensitive inner walls, teasing the oversensitive flesh until Natasha was nothing but a writhing, gasping mess. Her eyes rolled back, half-lidded with pleasure, and her lips parted in a soft, helpless moan every time you thrust back into her. You could feel the way she pulsed around the strap, her orgasm still crashing through her, each thrust prolonging the pleasure, edging her closer to that line between unbearable ecstasy and delicious torment.
“God, you’re so good for me,” you groaned, your breath hitching as you felt the silicone slip inside her once more, filling her to the hilt. Natasha whimpered, her head falling back against the door, her nails biting into your shoulders. Her leg quivered in your grasp, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how utterly wrecked she was beneath you.
With a low growl of satisfaction, you pressed her thigh even higher, opening her up even more, pushing her to the very limit of her flexibility. The new angle had the thick strap sinking impossibly deep, and Natasha gasped, her entire body jolting at the sensation. As her free leg instinctively wrapped around your waist, anchoring herself to you, you felt the shift in her balance—she had nothing keeping her standing anymore, fully depending on you.
“Fuck!” Natasha cried out, her voice cracking as you pulled back and slammed forward again, the wet sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room. “I— I can’t— it’s too much!” You pressed her up against the door even more, using your strength to hold her in place as her body trembled under the onslaught of pleasure, the desperation in her voice only igniting your need for her further.
Her whimpers were nearly incoherent, her face flushed with exertion, but you could see the glint of desire still lingering in her eyes. She was teetering on the edge of overstimulation, but you knew she craved every second of it. She wanted to feel all of it—the stretch, the burn, the fullness. The way the strap forced her walls to accommodate the thickness, how each and every detail of your faux-cock dragged along her inner muscles, heightening her pleasure with each stroke.
"You take it so well, baby," you cooed, your voice dripping with confidence and dominance. "You’re doing so well. Look at you—fucking yourself on my strap like this."
Her breath hitched again at your words, a shiver of arousal rolling through her already trembling body. She was utterly at your mercy, and you loved it. You loved how she fought against the overwhelming pleasure, how she clenched so desperately around the strap, trying to draw it deeper into her slick heat. Her need for more, despite the delicious torment, was written all over her flushed face, her parted lips, her half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desperation.
You picked up your pace again, your hips snapping forward with a relentless rhythm that had Natasha gasping for air, her nails scraping down your back as she arched off the door, her body shuddering with each deep, powerful thrust.
“Oh god—oh fuck,” she whimpered, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The leg wrapped around you trembled, barely able to hold on as her body shook under the intense pleasure you were giving her. Her thighs were slick with her arousal, her pussy dripping with how desperately wet she was, and you couldn’t help but groan at the sight of her coming undone again and again.
“Good girl,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to her ear. “Look at yourself. Look at how fucking good you look with my cock buried inside you.”
Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy as she glanced down between your bodies. The sight made her moan—a deep, breathless sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her. She could see it—the thick, veined strap disappearing into her, stretching her wide, her swollen folds glistening with her arousal. Every thrust made her slick pussy tighten around the silicone, and the sight of it only spurred you on.
You adjusted your grip on her thigh, pulling her leg even higher, pushing her closer to the door as you thrust harder, deeper, the wet sound of her slick arousal mixing with her breathless moans.
“Oh god—fuck!” Natasha cried out, her walls fluttering violently around the strap as you drove her toward yet another climax. “I— I’m gonna—fuck, please don’t stop!”
Her entire body tensed, her head falling back against the door as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. Her walls clenched around the strap, trying to milk every inch of it as you thrust into her with a brutal, unforgiving force.
“That’s it,” you groaned, your voice low and commanding as you felt her walls begin to spasm around the strap, her breath hitching as her climax built. “Come for me again, Natasha.”
With one final, hard thrust, Natasha shattered, her entire body jerking as a scream ripped from her throat. Her walls clamped down around the thick silicone, pulsing wildly as her orgasm tore through her, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. She was trembling, gasping for air as her body convulsed beneath you, her slick juices dripping down her thighs, soaking both of you.
You kept thrusting into her, slow and deep, prolonging her pleasure as you rode out her orgasm with her. Natasha’s body jerked with each thrust, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as her hands clung to your shoulders, trying to ground herself in the overwhelming sensation.
When her trembling finally began to subside, you slowed your pace, easing her leg down from where it had been pressed against her chest, her body slumping against you in exhaustion. Her head fell against your shoulder, her breath hot and ragged against your skin as you gently pulled out of her, the slick strap glistening with her release.
As Natasha’s trembling body sagged against you, her breath still coming in ragged bursts, you could feel the way her grip on your shoulders loosened and her leg let go of your waist. The aftermath of her climax left her shaky, her muscles quivering from the overwhelming pleasure you’d just wrung from her body. But even in her exhausted state, you could sense her lingering need. It simmered beneath her flushed skin, a wantonness that never quite faded, even when she was wrecked like this.
Without a word, Natasha sank down, her legs buckling as she willingly dropped to her knees. The sight alone was enough to send a fresh surge of heat coursing through you—Natasha, her thighs glistening with her release, her hair dishevelled, and her lips parted as she knelt between your legs. Her eyes, half-lidded and dark with desire, flickered up to meet yours, a silent plea for permission lingering in her gaze.
Your hand instinctively found its way to her cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin as you gently tilted her face up. Her lips ghosted over your knuckles, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin before she shifted her focus downward. Her gaze dropped to the strap still glistening between your legs, slick with her arousal, and you could see the hunger spark in her eyes.
“Natasha…” you whispered, your voice thick with a mixture of affection and desire.
But she didn’t need any further encouragement. Her hands, still trembling slightly, reached for the base of the strap, steadying it as she licked her lips. The tip was soaked in her juices, glistening under the soft light, and Natasha stared at it for a moment, almost mesmerised by the evidence of her own pleasure. Then, with a soft moan, she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of the strap, sucking it into her mouth with slow, deliberate movements.
You groaned softly, your hand moving to rest on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as you watched her work. Natasha’s tongue swirled around the head of the strap, tasting herself on the silicone, her mouth moving in languid strokes as she took more of it into her mouth. Her release coated her lips, shining as she sucked the slickness off, moaning low in her throat as she worked to clean the strap.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her focus entirely on the task at hand as she bobbed her head, her lips stretching around the girth. You could feel the pressure of her movements even through the toy, the way she sucked and licked with such dedication. It was intoxicating—the sight of her on her knees, her mouth filled again with your strap, the faint, almost sinful sound of her moans vibrating against the silicone as she sucked her own release off of it.
“My good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and full of praise. “Look at you…so eager to clean up after yourself.”
Natasha whimpered in response, the sound muffled as her mouth slid down further on the strap, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder. Her hands came up to cradle the base, stroking it gently as her tongue flicked over the veined surface, cleaning every ridge, every dip, savouring the taste of herself.
You could feel her submission in every movement, the way she surrendered completely to this moment. Her mouth moved with such deliberate care, as if this was another way of showing her devotion, her gratitude for the pleasure you’d given her. The way she worshipped the strap was almost reverent, her tongue lapping up every drop of her arousal, cleaning it with slow, sensual strokes.
“Does it taste good?” you asked softly, your fingers tightening slightly in her hair.
Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with yours as she pulled back just enough to speak, her lips still wrapped around the head of the strap.
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice hoarse with lust. “So good…”
And with that, she took the strap deeper, moaning as her mouth stretched again to accommodate it. The sight was almost too much—her lips wrapped around the thick girth, her tongue working tirelessly to clean it, her eyes dark and hooded with lust as she looked up at you, completely at your mercy.
You couldn’t resist. With a low growl, you tightened your grip on her hair and gently guided her head forward, watching as more of the strap disappeared into her mouth. Natasha didn’t hesitate, didn’t resist. She eagerly followed your lead, sinking down on the strap with a soft, muffled moan as she took it deeper, her tongue swirling around the silicone as she sucked harder.
The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth working the strap echoed in the room, mingling with her soft whimpers of pleasure. Each time she pulled back, her lips glistened with slickness, her saliva mixing with the remnants of her release as she diligently cleaned the strap. The sight, the sounds, the intoxicating feel of her submission—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but groan in response. It felt so different from just twenty minutes ago, the air now thick with an emotional tension that left both you and her craving more.
“Such a good girl…” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You love this, don’t you? Love tasting yourself on my cock like this?”
Natasha moaned again, her eyes rolling back slightly as she nodded, her mouth still full of the strap. Her fingers tightened around the base, her tongue swirling with renewed intensity as she sucked harder, her moans vibrating against the silicone in a way that had your own breath hitching in your throat.
You tugged her hair gently, pulling her back just enough to see her flushed, eager face, her lips even more swollen and slick from her efforts. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with lust and devotion, and the sight of her—completely wrecked, completely at your mercy—made your heart race.
“Finish it, once more,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding. “Clean it all up, baby.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, and with one last, eager moan, she sank down again, taking the strap as deep as she could, her lips stretched tight around the girth. Her tongue worked tirelessly, lapping up the last remnants of her release, her fingers stroking the base as she cleaned every inch of the strap with slow, deliberate care.
By the time she finally pulled back, the strap was glistening with nothing but her saliva. She looked up at you, her eyes hazy with pleasure, her mouth hanging open slightly as she panted for oxygen.
Natasha’s chest heaved, her lips still glistening as she knelt before you, a blend of exhaustion and determination in her eyes. Her body was clearly spent, trembling from the intensity of everything that had just unfolded, yet even in her weary state, a flicker of something more shone through. That relentless desire, the insatiable need to please you, to reciprocate the pleasure you had so generously given her, burned bright within her. It was as if the connection between you two transcended the physical, igniting a fire that she couldn't ignore.
With a shaky breath, Natasha reached for the harness still strapped to your hips. Her fingers, though trembling from exhaustion, worked quickly to undo the buckles, each one coming undone with a soft click. You could feel her need—this wasn’t just about giving; it was about showing you that she was still capable, that she could offer you more. Her eyes met yours briefly, the unspoken plea for permission lingering in their depths before she yanked the harness off completely.
Without a word, she tossed it behind you, the strap landing on the floor with a dull thud, completely forgotten. What mattered now was you—your pleasure, your release.
“Natasha, you don’t have to…” you started to say, but your words were cut short as she leaned forward, her hands gripping your thighs with surprising strength, anchoring you in place.
“I want to,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but resolute. “I need to.”
Before you could protest further, Natasha dove in, her mouth finding you with an eagerness that made your breath hitch. Her lips latched onto your sensitive folds, tongue immediately parting you as she licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your centre, savouring every inch of your heat. A low moan escaped your lips, and as soon as Natasha heard that first sound of pleasure, it was like a spark ignited within her.
She dove in deeper, her tongue working you with relentless precision, swirling and flicking against your most sensitive spots, teasing and tasting in a way that had your head thudding against the door in front of you. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you spread open for her as she devoured you like she couldn’t get enough. Each stroke of her tongue, each gentle nip of her lips, sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, and it didn’t take long before you were moaning openly, your hand tangling in her messy hair as you rocked your hips against her mouth.
“Fuck, Natasha…” you gasped, your voice thick with lust and awe. “Just like that…”
Your praise only fueled her further. Every moan, every word of encouragement that slipped past your lips made her work harder, her tongue moving faster, her lips sucking greedily at your clit. She was completely lost in it, lost in the way you responded to her touch, in the way your body trembled beneath her mouth. It was like she couldn’t get enough of your taste, couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made—the way you were falling apart for her.
And as you moaned her name again, louder this time, Natasha whimpered softly against you, her hips involuntarily bucking as if she could feel every ounce of pleasure you were experiencing. The connection between the two of you was palpable, an unspoken bond that seemed to tether your bodies together, each of your reactions sending waves of sensation through both of you.
She could hear the way your breath hitched, feel the way your thighs clenched around her head, and it drove her wild. Your pleasure was her pleasure, your release was her reward. Natasha’s own arousal was building again, the slickness between her thighs only intensifying as she tasted you, her own body responding to the rhythm of your moans, the raw, unfiltered sounds of your ecstasy.
“Oh fuck–Natasha…” Your breath was ragged, your body on the edge, teetering precariously close to that release she was so desperate to give you.
With a final flick of her tongue and a deep, sucking pull at your clit, you came undone. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under in a flood of overwhelming pleasure. Your hands clenched in her hair as your back arched off, your thighs squeezing her head tight as you cried out, your voice echoing through the room in breathless, blissful moans.
Natasha didn’t stop. Even as you writhed above her, she kept her mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release, savouring every moan, every tremor of your body as you rode out your orgasm. And as you came, something shifted in her—something broke free inside her.
She felt it—the sudden, uncontrollable surge of pleasure that washed over her as your moans hit their peak. It was the mere sight of you, the way you fell apart for her, the way your body shook with pleasure, the way you moaned her name like she was the only thing that mattered that set it off.
Her own release hit her like a lightning strike, her body going rigid as her climax overtook her without warning. Natasha gasped, her mouth still pressed against you as she came, the shock of her own orgasm freezing her in place. The pleasure ripped through her, stealing her breath, her thighs quivering uncontrollably as she came just from the sight of you.
She pulled back from you slightly, her lips still wet with your release, her eyes wide with disbelief as her body shook with the aftershocks of her own unexpected orgasm. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her mind reeling from what had just happened. You were both wrapped in the warmth of the moment when suddenly, your phone rang loudly in the silence.
You reached for it, reluctantly pulling away from Natasha’s gaze. “Yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes, Pepper,” you replied, your voice a mix of disappointment and urgency.
Natasha smiled softly at you, a bittersweet feeling bubbling up inside her as she leaned into your touch, your hand gently stroking her cheek. There was a warmth in the gesture that made her heart flutter, an affirmation of the bond that had just blossomed between you two. She felt seen, cherished, even amidst the whirlwind of everything that had just transpired.
“Tell him to prepare some dessert,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I haven’t had the chance to have mine here. Hopefully next time I will, the menu looks promising.”
Natasha’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as she caught the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. You could see her heart racing, a delightful mix of embarrassment and exhilaration washing over her. The intimate nature of your exchange lingered in the air, and the thought of your teasing words sent a rush of warmth through her.
“Next time,” she echoed softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as the realisation settled in that you would be back for her.
With a final glance at her, you turned to leave, a flutter of anticipation sparking between you two. As you made your way towards the door, Natasha’s eyes followed you, filled with longing and excitement for what lay ahead. And as you stepped outside, you left behind the strap, a tangible reminder of your connection, a symbol of what you had shared.
The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Natasha alone in the room, her heart racing as she thought about everything that had just happened. She picked up the strap, feeling its weight in her hands, and a wicked smile spread across her lips.
She couldn’t wait for your return. She was already crafting ideas for the next time you’d come back, each thought fueling her desire for you even more. Because this was only the beginning, and she was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that you would both find your way back to each other, intertwined by the widow’s lace.
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giannaln4 · 9 hours
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Lucky Bracelet
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Making friendship bracelets was one of your favourite things to keep you entertained during race weeks, and you just had to make a special one for your boyfriend.  (1.5k words)
warnings: fluff, established relationship, a couple sexual innuendos
a/n: guys look at me! two posts in one week? crazy. i'm honestly trying to clean up my inbox since i still have a few requests from before my break 😭 so if you sent one, i'm getting there, i promise! now, this is a little bit cheesy and there are a few weird time skips so I apologise for that, but i really hope you like it! pls let me know what you think 🫶🏻
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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Being constantly surrounded by hundreds of people and the double amount of cameras was not something you liked, but it’s something you had to put up with given the amount of attention your boyfriend got; it was something you have learnt to deal with. Not that you were fully used to it now, but at least it didn’t make you as anxious as it used to when you first started dating.
At least now you found something that helped you get your mind off the intense atmosphere that surrounded you during race weeks: making friendship bracelets. You made a few when you went to see Taylor Swift in concert late last year, and it stuck with you since then.
You travelled with all the materials you needed: colourful beads and cotton threads, tape, scissors — the whole deal. It wasn’t like you made an insane amount of bracelets every time you accompanied Lando to a race, but if you were bored or overwhelmed, you knew you had something to do.
Today was one of those days; Lando was specially busy today, and given your shy and quiet personality, you didn’t know that many people around, so you decided to lock yourself in Lando’s drivers room and get to it, carefully picking the letters and colours you would use.
Lando hated to leave you alone. He was aware of the many things he had to do, but he didn’t expect them to take that long, so as soon as he got a little bit of free time to catch lunch, he went looking for you. 
“Hey,” he greeted one of the mechanics. 
“Hi mate, how is it going?”
“All good, thanks. It’s a bit hot outside but still nice.”
“And yet, you are wearing a hoodie.” He teased him.
Lando let out a laugh, well aware of his reputation. "Well, I still have to keep it in style, don’t I?”
“You do, we know.”
“Anyway, have you seen Y/N?” 
“She must be in your room. I haven’t seen her since the two of you got here this morning.”
He smiled, knowing exactly what you were up to if you hadn’t left the small space all day. “Thanks.”
Lando made his way to his room, carefully knocking on the door before coming in. He didn’t want to scare you and make you drop all your beads, which has happened more times than he would like to admit.
“Come in,” he heard you yell from inside.
He opened the door and gave you the sweetest smile you have ever seen. “Hey, I’m back.”
“Hey, what took you so long?” You dropped everything you were doing to direct your attention at him. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know we would have to be there all morning, but I’m back for lunch.”
“It’s okay, and thank God, I’m starving.” You took a piece of tape to hold your bracelet in place and started to get up.
“What are you making here?” He asked you as he got closer to the small table, analysing what you had on display as the bright-coloured beads caught his eye.
“No, it’s a surprise.” You responded, quickly hiding your unfinished creation with your hands. 
“A surprise you say?” He came behind you to wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your head. 
You melted into his embrace and hummed in response, using one of your bags to hide it instead so you could hug your boyfriend back. “You can’t see it until you win this race.”
“Mhm, I see. What if I don’t win? When do I get to see it?” He questioned, not wanting to jinx his weekend, but he was still curious. 
“The next race you win.” You said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Got it. In that case, I’m gonna have to win this race.” He grabbed your hips to turn you around, kissing you on the lips once you were facing him.
You went to eat your lunch together as you normally did, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could come up with. Before you knew it, he had to go back to his duties, and even though you tried hard to act normal about being left alone so he wouldn’t feel guilty, he still noticed. He knew you better than you knew yourself, anyway.
“You can come with me if you want, that way you don’t have to be alone.”
“No, it’s okay. I know there are millions of people and cameras when you do these things."
He couldn’t help but feel guilty; he knew you were there to support him, so he hated to be apart from you when you did. “I’m sorry, love. I know you don’t feel comfortable when there are a lot of people around. You know you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, you could always stay home.”
“If you don’t want me to come, just say that,” you joked.
“No, it’s not that,” Lando replied immediately. “I do want you here, I always do, but I hate that you feel like you have to hide.”
“Lan, I’m not hiding. Sure, I do prefer to stay inside, but it’s not because I want to hide from the world. Besides, that’s why I always bring something to entertain myself with. I’ll be fine, I promise,” you reassure him.
“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. “But if you want to go back to the hotel, that’s okay.”
The rest of the weekend went on a lot quicker, even though he was just as busy. Qualifying and race days were a lot less boring since you got to see the cars from the garage, enjoying the full wag experience. 
As the race went on, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and excited at the same time. Lando started from pole (which made you assure him the night before he would get to see the bracelet after the race), but you still had the need to crack your fingers every once in a while. There were only a few laps left, and he had led the entire race so far, and with the gap becoming bigger, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
Once he finally crossed that finish line with a 21-second margin, everyone in the garage cheered and jumped, celebrating Lando’s achievement. A lot of people gathered outside to see him get off the car and celebrate his third win himself, shouting his name and patting him in the helmet to congratulate him.
When it was time for the podium, you decided to go get the finished bracelet you kept in your purse and held it close to your heart, feeling extremely proud of Lando for the amazing race he just had. You couldn't stop the few tears that left your eyes; it made you so happy to see him accomplish his dreams. 
The whole thing was finally over, and you waited for him right there so you could finally express how proud of him you were. 
“Congrats, baby,” you said, hugging him as if you hadn’t seen him in months. “You did amazing.”
“Thank you.” Lando couldn’t erase the big smile off his face as he hugged you back. 
“That’s a cool trophy you got back there.”
“Yeah, I don’t really care about that.” He said, puling away and looking down at you. 
“You don’t?” You asked confused.
“No, I’m still waiting for my real reward.”
“Oh… we can go back to the hotel-”
“No!” He interrupted you, laughing loudly at the fact that your mind went there. “I mean my bracelet, didn’t you say I would get it if I won this race? Well, I did, and now I’m claiming it.”
You laughed, your cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “Right, uh- it’s not that great compared to your trophy.”
“I’m sure it’s better than any trophy I could ever get.”
Man, he really knew how to be the sweetest boyfriend in the entire world. You pulled the bracelet out of your pocket, hiding it in your fist before dropping it in his hands. 
The colours were the first thing that caught his attention. Fluoro green and black beads. He inspected these first, until he got to the little letters that read ‘MY WINNER’. He almost couldn’t contain his tears; he was so endeared by you and how much you supported his passion.
“I love it,” he whispered, lifting you up and kissing you emotionally before putting you back down and sliding the bracelet in his wrist, admiring the way it looked there. “Thank you.”
“See? I told you you would get to see it today.”
“It must be a lucky bracelet, then. I’m never taking it off.”
You giggled at this, loving how Lando reacted to the bracelet you made with much love, but you still thought he was just messing with you. “You must be tired.” You teased him.
“Mhm. Now, about my other reward-”
“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes as you let out a loud laugh, holding his hand as you made your way to the car.
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elleloquently · 1 day
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too little, never late [ 1 ] : ellie williams
" can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time
i can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "
series masterlist
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ellie williams x female reader | college au - best friend!ellie
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| a/n - here it is!! decided to abandon my lowercase thing for this fic, not sure why but it felt right lmao. comments, reblogs, and asks ab this are so encouraged and appreciated <3 excited ab this one, hope you guys are toooo | c/w - warnings for the entire series are listed in the masterlist. a bit of exposition here. reader is vaguely indicated to be girly i guess and closeted (sorry!!!) switching between past/present tense is very much on purpose / intended!!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
It was hard to pick your favorite season on campus.
During move in every year, at the end of summer, the air felt full of promise. The music was loud from passing by cars, the bars especially crowded during syllabus week.
Winter was pretty, too, with the string lights that adorned the town and the ice skating rink that was put up downtown. It was easy to blow dining dollars on the hot chocolate and donut truck that was always posted nearby.
There was spring, when all of the campus greenery started to bloom. It felt like tradition for all classes to be skipped on that first warm day every year, the campus green filled with hammocks and picnic blankets.
But fall.
Campus felt like it was made for fall.
The sun was still warm, but the leaves were turning. It was the perfect time, the colors still bright and vivid, the brief window before they faded to brown.
Pumpkins would be placed strategically within the decorative flower gardens, a last chance for beauty and atmosphere before everything died for the winter. Come October, the statue of the university mascot would be decorated in a different costume each week, leading up to Halloween.
September was just a little bit perfect.
The warmth from summer still lingered, the promise and anticipation of the upcoming semester evident in the atmosphere. Still, there was an indication of fall. The trees were green and yellow and orange and some strange colors in between. People were already planning their Halloween costumes. Something about the sunshine this time of year always felt different. Looked a little more beautiful, maybe.
"It looks like the early 2000's here. On this street," You mumbled, stepping carefully over the curb as you gripped tighter onto the brown paper bag in your arms.
"The fuck does that mean?" Your best friend snorted from beside you, shooting you a sidelong glance.
Your eyebrows knit together immediately as you catch Ellie's glance, her pale green eyes giving you a once over. Still, you defended your observation.
"It looks like a trick or treating street," you mumbled, your sight following along the sidewalk. Leaves were already starting to fall, littering the sidewalk.
"Like how it would look when you were a kid. Reminds me of Halloweentown," you explained lightly, continuing to walk back to campus.
Paper grocery bags in hand, you were making the short journey back to campus after venturing into town. Ellie would have driven, easily, but you always preferred the walk. It was only a matter of minutes, anyway. Besides, parking downtown on a Sunday was shitty to navigate.
You didn't mind living in a college town, as opposed to some universities that existed in the middle of a big city. After growing up in the small town of Jackson, you didn't mind being in a bubble.
"Good movie," Ellie muttered, seemingly more concentrated on crossing the final busy road before you would be back on the campus pathing.
It did remind you of Halloweentown, stupidly enough. It was the first thing you had said several years ago, when yourself and Ellie had stepped off of the school bus and saw a college campus in real life for the first time.
It had been a school field trip during the fall of sophomore year of highschool. Chaperoned by several teachers and a few worrisome parents, the school had organized a weekend long college tour, an attempt at getting students excited about higher education.
Back then, you had felt smitten with the university for stupid, insignificant reasons. The aesthetic being one of them, though you would be hard pressed to deny the fact that the way in which campus looked definitely played a part in your deciding factor. The drive-in movie theater that was five minutes away from campus was a nice selling point, too.
Still, it had felt cool at the time, learning about everything that the possibility of college had to offer.
Choir was still a thing in college, who knew? And you could major in art? Your chosen extracurriculars during that time period had been just that. You were in the high school choir, and Ellie had joined the art club. You had considered joining the art club too, just because you were jealous. At the end of the year, they got to go on a trip to some cool place with a lot of museums.
You never did end up joining, though, and had been unreasonably pissed when Ellie had been gone for two days, out of state. You got your payback the next year, when the choir had gotten to go to Disney and Ellie was left in Jackson, waiting for you to come home.
Now, art was just a hobby for Ellie, and the idea of auditioning to join a college choir felt laughable. Even so, when the time came to start seriously thinking about the idea of college, Ellie couldn't quite shake the memory of how everything in her had lit up at the sight of the university planetarium when she was younger. Soon after, Ellie had learned about astrophysics.
You hadn't planned to attend the same college, but it was certainly a perk. The small things that caught your interest during that first college tour had turned into a real curiosity once junior year of highschool had hit. Turns out, the school had a lot of really good programs. The departments for your desired majors were highly rated. Tuition rates were good, which was even better. Besides. Campus was gorgeous.
You had started imagining it, thinking about it, whispering about the possibility during late night sleepovers. When it was decision season, you were both on edge. It's not like you were applying to an Ivy, but it was the future. Who wouldn't be a little freaked out? The idea of one of you getting in and not the other was humiliating and nerve wracking.
It was thrilling, then, tearing open your letters together with shaky hands in the privacy of Ellie's bedroom. It had been a damn near stealth mission trying to get to the mail before your parents or Joel got to it first.
Joel was more easy going, attempting to hide his concern and curiosity between casual questions and glances, knowing a letter should have been arriving any day. Your parents, on the other hand, had been hounding you relentlessly. But yourself and Ellie wanted the moment to yourselves, alone. So that's what you had done.
You had checked the mail multiple times a day, your heart dropping to your stomach once you finally received the letter. Instantly it was shoved into your overnight bag before you had peddled to Ellie's, your bike wheels turning faster than ever before.
Ellie had looked like a kid again when you had opened the letters, shrieking and falling back onto her bed as you clutched each other's hands, the relief palpable as you read that you were both accepted.
"We should watch it," you suggest, turning your head. Your gaze fixed upon Ellie, focused on the strand of hair that falls over her face. Her hands are full, so she halfheartedly attempts to blow it away.
"Huh? Yeah, sure," Ellie replied, appearing as though she doesn't really know what she's replying to.
Someone on a skateboard is zipping by, their trail quick and unpredictable. You don't notice that you're nearly in their path, your focus on Ellie. Ellie nudges you with her elbow, pressing you out of the way.
"Wait, can't. There's some guest speaker lecture tonight and Dina gets extra credit for one of her classes if she.. Asshole," Ellie cuts herself off, mumbling under her breath. She glared at the inconsiderate skater, moving closer to your side.
"-If she goes to it. I promised I'd go with her," Ellie finished, adjusting her grip on the paper bag in her hands.
The bag crinkles as Ellie's hands grip onto it tighter. It was nearly stuffed to the brim, and the one that you were holding onto wasn't any different. You were slightly worried that they would split and rip before you even made it back to your apartment.
The grocery shop had been necessary, but the items were not. Yourself and Ellie had ventured to the Natural Foods store downtown, throwing any item that looked cool or weird into the cart without a second thought. It was the type of store that would still require you to go to a real grocery store after the fact, leaving you lacking despite the money you had already spent.
"Oh, right. I forgot that it was tonight. What's the lecture about?" You questioned, feeling both totally fine and not fine at all at Ellie's response.
"No clue," Ellie grinned, shaking her head slightly. "Friend of the year. I'm not even the one getting extra credit."
A huff of laughter falls from your lips as you spare a glance at Ellie, not allowing your gaze to linger. It was always so easy to fall into step together, like the two of you were naturally in sync.
"You're coming, right?" Ellie asked then, drawing a shrug out of you.
"Umm, I'm not really sure. I still really need to like, study and stuff. Plus, when Dina told me about it, I didn't want to just assume that I wa-"
"I just assumed you would be going," Ellie clarified, her words coming out a little too quickly. "I mean, we all did."
You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew that you would give in.
Attending some special event lecture wasn't exactly your ideal Sunday evening. You spent enough hours of your week crammed into a lecture hall already, fidgeting in your seat and watching the seconds tick by on a clock while simultaneously rushing to take notes. Besides, you really did have to study. And you didn't even know what the event was for, or what the lecture was about.
But Ellie would be there. And your other friends. And you always did have some weird thing about missing out. Even if it was just a lecture.
"I'll go," You said decidedly, barely catching Ellie's gaze before she pulled her eyes away from your own.
As your apartment building came into view, you found your steps quickening. The walk had been nice, but you knew that you were both sick of carrying the bags by now.
Your apartment was one that belonged to the university. Since it was a campus apartment building, it wasn't quite as great as the others around town. They were essentially glorified dorms. But financial aid had paid for the majority of it, so you wouldn't complain. Or, just not often, at least.
"Cool," Ellie mumbled, her posture relaxing a little.
In an instant, Ellie's hand is reaching out to the bag that you're holding as soon as a small tear forms at the bottom of the brown paper.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
"We need to leave soon."
"I know."
"We really need to leave soon."
"I know," Ellie grumbled, a soft huff escaping her. She turned over in your bed, eyeing you with an expression that could only be described as a slight glare.
You met her eyes from where you were sat at your desk, twisted around in your chair to look at her. Ellie was laying in your bed, with her head on your pillow and your throw blanket wrapped haphazardly around her. It wasn't a new sight in the slightest, and neither was the uncomfortable feeling that it prompted in the pit of your stomach.
You confused it with annoyance, sometimes. Or discomfort.
Even so, it was normal for the two of you to share a sleeping space, or to feel just as at home in the other person's bed. After all, you had been best friends for years now.
There had only been a brief period when it had been weird, only because Ellie had made it so.
It had been junior year of highschool. Ellie had dated a girl for a couple of months, and promptly stopped sharing the bed with you during sleepovers. It had been annoying at the time, and completely ridiculous. You tended to get defensive about it, insisting that it was always normal for the two of you to share a bed.
Your arguments were unwavering, because why was it suddenly strange for two best friends to share a bed? Ellie would only grumble in response, insisting that it was different.
Their relationship didn't last long. The usual sleepover routine promptly resumed after.
"You literally only come over to nap," you accused, turning back towards your desk to glance in your mirror.
"Shut up. That's not true," Ellie huffs defensively. She sits up as if to prove her point, shoving your favorite stuffed animal away from her. You catch the action in your mirror, an automatic frown pulling your lips downward.
"What else am I supposed to do? You take forever anyway, Jesus," Ellie continued, and the action of mumbling her defenses under her breath seems to be more for herself than for your sake.
"You could get ready, too," you suggest, only because you know that it would annoy her further.
"I am ready?" Ellie's eyebrows knit together, her gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirror. She looks confused instead of irritated, and you feel just a little guilty. If you were closer to her, you would attempt to swipe away her slight frown with your thumb.
"I'm kidding," you soften, because it was impossible not to around your best friend. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, and the smile that you offer her is small. It's still hot outside, but Ellie is wearing a gray hoodie that you're almost certain she will never let go of.
"Are you gonna be too warm?" Your gaze flicks around the items cluttering your desk before you shift in your chair again, giving Ellie a once over.
Ellie shakes her head, rolling her eyes despite the way in which the corners of her lips faintly twitch upwards. "I'll be fine. Those lecture halls are always cold as shit, anyway."
Ellie's response raises a good point, so you're quickly moving away from your desk and towards your closet instead. Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a text tone coming from your phone interrupts her.
"Check it please," you instruct in a mutter, rifling through your cardigans and hoodies.
Ellie automatically obliges, pulling herself away from your bed and carefully moving towards your desk to retrieve your phone. "Dina wants to know if we're meeting up at the event or before... Why the hell is she texting you?"
"Why wouldn't she be texting me?" Your response is immediate as you frown at a sweatshirt. It's faded and worn, but that almost made it better. You had gotten it as a souvenir from a planetarium trip with Ellie and Joel.
Ellie registers the change in your tone instantly, glancing at you instead of at your phone. "No, I mean- Did you even tell her that you were going?"
"You said everyone assumed-"
"But you never confirmed-"
"She probably just knows we're together." You turned to face Ellie, shooting her a pointed look while holding the sweatshirt against your chest.
Apparently, Ellie wasn't great about answering texts. That wasn't your experience, but you had heard Jesse and Dina complain about it enough times to assume. "Have you even bothered to check your phone?" 
"Shit," Ellie mumbled, reaching to fish her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. She hadn't checked her phone in a few hours, probably. The look that crosses Ellie's features though, indicated that Dina hadn't even bothered to reach out to her first.
Your lips quirked upwards as you watched her, rolling your eyes. "Just tell her we'll meet them there." You turn back towards your closet, contemplating your options.
Ellie's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she shakes her head, turning her attention back to your phone. Her own phone is replaced back into her pocket before she slides into your desk chair, grabbing your phone carefully in her grasp. The screen lights up, flashing Ellie with a picture of your lock screen.
The picture was just a little blurry. Dina had been the one to take it. You all had gone to a concert about a year ago, which gives reason to the dark background of the picture. You were grinning wildly, Ellie's arm slung around your shoulders as she wrinkled her nose at the camera.
Ellie simply looked at the photo for a moment, before remembering why she was even holding your phone in the first place. You hear Ellie swear under her breath, but you don't bother to look this time.
It was muscle memory as Ellie entered your password, unlocking your phone. She navigated her way to your messages with Dina, her fingers pausing briefly on the screen before she typed.
you
we'll meet you there
Ellie thinks for a moment, her lips twitching briefly as she added an additional text, an obvious indicator to Dina that it was not you that was responding, but Ellie.
you
dick
Your phone sounds again as Ellie is still holding it, the response from Dina being immediate.
dina ✩
you never answer your phone!!!
Ellie scoffs, but can't suppress the grin that appears on her lips at Dina instantly knowing that it was her. Ellie's next response is a quick one.
you
🖕
dina ✩
🫶
"What are you doing?" Ellie questioned, tearing her eyes away from your phone as you draw her attention once more.
You paused momentarily, holding the strap of your bag in your hand. "I'm gonna take my notes," You admitted, chucking the sweatshirt at Ellie before stepping towards your desk. "I wasn't joking. I like... Really need to study."
Ellie clumsily caught the sweatshirt with her free hand, snorting at your response. "Bullshit."
"It's not," you denied, rolling your eyes. Ellie's gaze followed your hands as you rifled through binders and books on your desk, fingers dancing around cosmetic products that were also currently littering your desk.
Ellie gently sat your phone down, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. The color was familiar, as it was the one you were currently wearing. You had painted them just a few days ago. Ellie knew because she had been with you, and the nail of her pinky finger was painted the same color to prove it.
Ellie never really painted her nails by her own volition, but she usually let you paint them whenever you had asked. The color was a bit glittery this time, and Ellie opted for a pinky.
"So should I say that we're gonna be late, or?" Ellie questioned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she continued to watch you.
"We're not. I'm ready, see?" You pull a textbook away from the pile, waving it at Ellie. She swatted at the book, rolling her eyes in response. It was a habit she never seemed to shake, one that you seemed to mirror quite often.
It's a cue when you shove your textbook into your bag, and Ellie pushed out an exhale. "Yeah yeah, I see," she mumbles, standing up from the desk chair.
The sweatshirt is placed back into your hands after you hoist the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, your smile nearly impossible to bite back at Ellie's mumbling.
"Let's go though, before we actually are late. Seriously, Ellie. You take forever to get ready." Your tone is dry but the amusement at your own joke is evident by your expression.
Ellie practically scowls, reaching out to swat at you once more. "You're the worst, you know that?"
Ellie's half hearted movement is easily dodged, and you couldn't decide between feigning offense or giving her a hard time.
"You love me," you decided to say, and that seemingly shuts Ellie up.
Ellie eyed you for a moment, but her response lacks any weight. "Whatever. Don't forget your dumb key again."
"Oh my G- That was one time," you defended, leaving Ellie to trail after you as you turned on your heel, an indication of your exit.
"Yeah, one time too many." Ellie's voice lowered slightly as you both stepped into the hallway, turning around the corner and heading for the elevator. "You called me at almost like, two in the morning."
You nearly winced at Ellie's words, an awkward grimace-like-smile appearing on your face. She was right, anyway. But it had only been one time.
It was towards the end of the spring semester last year. Of course, you hadn't remembered your key until it was too late, arriving at your door after a night out with Dina without any way to get inside.
Instinctively, you had called Ellie. It had been late and you were humiliated, not wanting to bother anyone in your building until morning. Ellie had shown up for you in under fifteen minutes, not even pretending to be annoyed because she could tell by your voice on the phone that you had felt awful.
The impromptu sleepover had been nice, though. Carefully spaced apart in Ellie's bed, the two of you had scrolled through your photos and videos dating back to the first year that you had met until you had eventually fallen asleep, phones dropping limply against the blankets.
"Shut up," you mumbled weakly, face warming slightly at the memory of your embarrassment. "We had fun that night."
"Yeah, we did," Ellie relents with a grin.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
It had taken nearly twenty minutes to walk to the building that the event was being held in. By the time you had actually made it, the sky was growing dark.
You weren't entirely familiar with the building. You knew that most of Dina's classes were held here though, so you could only assume that the event had something to do with that. It would make sense, considering the whole extra credit ordeal.
You were slightly anxious that the two of you actually were going to be late, but the sight of a crowd in the lobby instantly eased your worries.
You spotted Jesse first, due to his height.
"There." You nudged Ellie's arm with your own, causing her to follow your gaze. Ellie nodded and so you grasped the sleeve of her hoodie, leading her towards your friends.
Dina soon came into view, as well as someone else that you didn't recognize.
"You guys are the best," Dina gushed instantly, throwing her arms around yourself and Ellie in greeting.
"You didn't say that to me when I got here," Jesse frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dina once she pulled away.
"Oh please." Dina rolls her eyes, but it's lighthearted. "You're the best for driving me," she tells her boyfriend. Jesse laughs at her easy response, shaking his head before bumping his fist against Ellie's shoulder in greeting.
Ellie wrinkled her nose, jerking her shoulder away from Jesse. It was crazy how such tiny things could manage to transport you back through time.
It almost felt like the beat of your heart faltered once Ellie met your gaze, her expression instantly changing into an amused smile instead.
She had these mannerisms that were so Ellie, unchanging despite the time that had passed. You had tried to describe it to her before, but she just didn't get it.
Even so, the way that she looked at you now, as though you were both a part of some inside joke or something, threw you back to freshman year of high school.
That had been the year that the two of you had met.
Since Jackson was a relatively small town, having a new kid start in your class wasn't exactly a frequent thing. Whenever it did happen, it always ended the same way. Within a week, the new kid would always end up being integrated into an already existing group, the number of friends associated with each other being more than you would certainly ever have in a lifetime.
It was a consistent track record, so you almost didn't think anything of it when an unfamiliar girl was assigned to sit next to you in biology.
You had been feeling pretty bleak about starting high school. The friends that you had been closest to throughout middle school had changed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but it hadn't been a good type of change.
Starting freshman year with little to no friends didn't exactly give you the most optimistic start.
But then, entered Ellie.
Auburn hair, shuffling feet, and a book bag adorned with space themed pins.
You had told yourself it was your anxiety, the way in which your cheeks had burned when Ellie had been instructed to take the empty seat next to you. Admittedly, you had been a little shy, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead without sparing her a glance. But then, you were worried about seeming rude. On the other hand, the probability of a potential new friend was slim. You knew how these things usually went.
It was stupid, really, the thing that made you even speak to her in the first place. But you were grateful for it.
While reaching for a fallen pencil under the table, your eyes had drifted to Ellie's shoes, a pair of red Converse. It's not like it was an uncommon choice, but something about it had caused you to feel a flicker of camaraderie. You had been wearing Converse too, only in black.
As you straightened up in your chair, pencil in hand, you found the words leaving your mouth before you could think it over.
"I like your shoes," you had said, seemingly catching Ellie slightly off guard.
She had only blinked at you for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, which led her to notice your own. "Oh, hey. I like yours too," Ellie had responded.
You didn't normally just start conversations like that, but Ellie wouldn't have known any better at the time.
Hushed conversations at your shared table in the back of the science classroom turned into seeking each other out in the cafeteria, which turned into begging for sleepovers on the weekend.
You learned a lot about the girl that had moved from Boston to Jackson, and she had learned a lot about you, too.
The two of you were quickly inseparable.
You would scrounge up whatever coins you could find, hauling them to the arcade at the nearest mall. Ellie had begged Joel for a bike for Christmas, purely so she could ride around town with you. You would press bandaids on each other's knees, scraped up from whenever you laughed entirely too hard and closed your eyes while steering, or from Ellie trying to knock you off of your bike as a joke, causing her to internally panic when she had actually succeeded.
The entirety of your friendship was captured in photo strips and homemade birthday cards. The first time you had ever used the photo booth at the arcade, all of the photos came out looking nearly identical because you couldn't stop grinning to make any other expression or pose. For the final photo, you had managed to throw up a peace sign, prompting Ellie to stick up her middle finger at the camera.
Luckily, the photo had been snapped before you gasped, your eyes widening at Ellie. It wasn't a big deal in the slightest, but your parents were... Strict. Your sleepovers typically happened at Ellie and Joel's.
You had whined at Ellie, complaining that there was no way that you could hang up the photos in your room now. Ellie tore the bottom photo off in response, keeping the middle finger picture for herself and leaving you with the rest. You had both hung them up in your rooms.
Joel was essentially another parent to you. He adored you, evident in the way in which he had called you sweetheart, prompting a bewildered expression from Ellie and a delayed moment of her howling with laughter. But really, he adored the way in which Ellie had so quickly found a friend after the move, and how her face always lit up whenever she talked about you. He didn't even mind that she seemed to spend more time on her phone, always knowing that it was you that she was texting. 
Despite how comfortable you always found it to be at Ellie and Joel's house, there wasn't the exact level of comfortability at your own. There were just a few things that your parents didn't know about Ellie. But that was okay. Anything to keep up the sleepovers, to keep up your parents allowing Ellie to join you on weekend trips and vacations.
When Ellie's birthday had rolled around in the spring, the pressure was on. It's not like you had much money to even spend at that age, but in the span of a few months, Ellie had quickly become the most important person in your life. You wanted to do something nice for her, even if your realistic capabilities didn't exactly match your personal standards.
The gift ended up being a small pack of space pins, new ones to add to her collection. A few of them were designed to look like different planets, while one of them looked like a little rocket. In addition to the pins, you had made Ellie a birthday card, the colored construction paper being filled with sappy paragraphs of friendship, memories, and promises.
Years later, Ellie obviously no longer used the same bag from freshman year of high school. She still had the pins, though, and they were attached to the bag that she used for school now.
Jesse's voice gained your attention, and Ellie ignored the twinge of disappointment that she felt when your smile was pulled away from her, and instead directed towards the stranger that Jesse was now introducing the both of you to.
Ellie attempted to listen, focusing her attention on the stranger, Connor. She had heard Jesse briefly mention him before in passing, but it never seemed like they were actually friends. They had met the previous year, and shared a class together now. That was the extent of Ellie's knowledge.
"Hey," Ellie mumbled with a slight nod, admittedly more focused on the way in which you were fidgeting with the strap of your bag that was over your shoulder.
"Are you good?" Dina questioned, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she watched you at Ellie's side.
You nodded, just barely getting to respond before suddenly Connor was addressing you.
"Where are you coming from?" Connor asked, focusing his eyes on you.
"What?" You were a little caught off guard, not grasping the meaning of his question.
"Where are you coming from?"
"Oh. Um, my apartment?" You blinked at him, before realizing his curiosity must've been piqued by your bag. "Oh. No, I just like... Need to study," you responded, your words fumbled and awkward.
"Dedicated to your classes, I respect that," Connor responded, his smile growing slightly.
Ellie resisted the urge to scoff. Dedicated to your classes? Yeah, maybe. Knowing that you'd have a stomach ache due to anxiety all night if you didn't at least attempt to study? That was more likely.
You mumbled something in response, a forced laugh exiting your lips as Jesse and Dina genuinely laughed. They knew you well enough, anyway. They knew your effort was practically a futile one.
When you looked at Ellie, she made a face that indicated that she wanted to roll her eyes, but was holding back. It almost made you laugh, too.
The light conversations continued as the five of you made your way into the auditorium once the doors had finally opened. The room was actually pretty full, and Ellie couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually interested in the event, and how many had shown up because they shared a major with Dina and were also offered extra credit.
"I've heard this speaker before, actually. He's really good. Even if the content matter isn't the most... Interesting, he makes it engaging, at least," Connor said as you had walked through the rows of seats.
When Connor talked, it felt as though he was performing instead of participating in the conversation. It was almost unsettling, how his expression never faltered. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe Ellie was just tired and being judgmental. 
Jesse and Dina had agreed to sit in the back, so that’s where you all had gone. 
“When? Did you listen to him speak before, I mean?” 
Ellie’s head nearly snapped in your direction as you posed your question, her eyebrows drawing together. She didn’t really know why she was surprised that you were participating in the conversation, but she was. 
“It’s a yearly thing, right?” Jesse answers on behalf of Connor, glancing at him to confirm the answer. Connor nodded, and then you did, too. 
“Is it the same thing every time?” Your voice sounds again, another question as you had glanced between Jesse and Connor. 
“A… Sort of variation of it, I guess? But I swear, you won’t hate it. If you can spare a few seconds throughout your studying,” Connor joked, his eyebrow twitching upwards as he met your gaze. 
The corners of your lips faintly twitched before you tilted your head to look at Ellie, making instant eye contact. The action, however small, soothed whatever weird thoughts had started floating around Ellie’s head within the last two minutes. 
"Even if it's the most boring hour of my life, it's worth the damn extra credit," Dina concluded, causing a snort of laughter from Jesse.
"That's my intellectual," Jesse teased, earning a laugh from you and a groan from Ellie. Dina lightly shoved at his arm, but let him lace his fingers with her own anyway.
The interaction managed to hold Ellie's attention for a moment, until she felt you move away from her side.
The group of five had been standing in the aisle, lingering by a group of seats. You had moved to sit down though, evidently more seriously concerned with glancing over your textbook than Ellie had actually assumed. Ellie was going to turn back to Dina and Jesse and make some smart remark, until she noticed Connor moving to sit down, too.
Ellie's eyebrows practically furrowed as her eyes followed Connor's movements. It looked like he was intending on sitting down next to you, which didn't make sense. Why would he sit next to someone he had just met, like, five minutes ago? Jesse was right there, why wouldn't Connor wait to sit next to him? Or go find his own damn seat, somewhere else?
Ellie watched for a split second, tuning out the rest of Jesse and Dina's banter. No, yeah. Connor was definitely trying to sit next to you. Which didn't make sense. Right? Who does that?
"What are you studying for, anyway?" Connor was casually moving towards your seat, looking over you curiously.
"Uh, I was supposed to have an exam at the end of last week but the professor ended up being sick so... Now I have it tomorrow and I'm totally- Oh, sorry. It's for my-"
Ellie's feet are carrying her, rushed and fumbling as she moves through the aisle. She nearly tripped over the seats, passing Connor and immediately settling into the seat next to you. You cut off your own words as Ellie sat next to you, a smile replacing your previous expression.
"You got it," Ellie assured you softly, pretending Connor wasn't still looking at you.
"Yeah, right. You know I'm shit at exams. I always have been," you complained, chewing anxiously at your bottom lip. People were still filing into the auditorium, the seats filling up surprisingly quickly.
"Yeah, you have been," Ellie agreed, grinning when your jaw dropped at her. "But. You haven't managed to fail anything, either. Yet."
"Ellie," you groaned softly, exasperated and amused all at once. Ellie could tell.
"Bad test taker?" Connor muses, and Ellie's expression faltered. Jesus.
"Anxious test taker," you correct lightly.
Connor sat down then, in the seat next to Ellie. She almost feels as though she briefly goes rigid, and nearly wanted to whirl around to Jesse and tell him to get his friend. She also wants to tell you that you don't have to keep answering his questions, based on the way in which you're twisting your fingers in your lap and your gaze is flicking around.
"Understandable," Connor replied, and Ellie sat back in her chair. Understandable. What time was this thing supposed to start, anyway?
Jesse and Dina sat down then, with Jesse next to Connor and Dina at the end. The seating arrangement felt weird. It was uncomfortable, and Ellie began to fidget with her fingers in her lap. It was normally always just the four of them, but now there was some Connor separating them. Ellie tried to catch Dina or maybe Jesse's eyes, but they weren't looking, too caught up in their own conversation.
"What do you study?" Connor was talking past Ellie, directing his words at you.
Ellie took a small breath while you answered, mentally scolding herself for being so fucking weird. This was not a big deal. It was really, literally fine. Ellie was just tired, that's why she was feeling off. She was just tired. And the fact that a conversation was taking place over her wasn't helping.
"What do you study?" Ellie's gaze flickered in your direction as you spoke, before fixing back upon her Converse.
"B-"
You quickly cut Connor off, an assumptious expression appearing on your features. "Business?"
Ellie could tell even by your tone that you were trying not to roll your eyes.
Connor laughed, shaking his head. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at you, past Ellie. "Biology, actually."
"Oh. Huh. That's cool."
You looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised, maybe, if Ellie was willing to admit it to herself.
You stayed quiet though, because the auditorium lights started to dim, prompting the talking throughout the room to grow hushed.
Showing up had been a favor for Dina, so Ellie didn't feel too guilty about allowing her thoughts to wander. She tried, though, to focus on the lecture, because she didn't exactly like the direction in which her thoughts were wandering in.
Ellie focused partly on the speaker, and partly on the way in which you were sharing the armrest of the auditorium chair with her, your bare arm pressed against the sleeve of her hoodie. It was cold in the room, like Ellie had predicated, but your sweatshirt remained in your lap, under your textbook.
The contact was small and casual, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Ellie's gaze flickered between the stage and your arm next to hers. Even from the brief contact, Ellie wondered if her hoodie would smell like your perfume later. Usually, her clothes always did.
You were seemingly focused on the speaker, though your textbook remained open on your lap. Occasionally you would glance down for a few moments, your fingers tracing over the paragraphs before you would look up once more. Ellie wasn't watching you, necessarily, but she could see you from out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she knew your habits.
It was about twenty minutes before Connor shifted in his seat, causing Ellie to stiffen. He leaned in close to Ellie's seat, but she knew instantly that it was so he could get closer to you.
"Do you have a pen? Or a pencil, or something?" Connor's voice was low and quiet, and Ellie attempted to stare straight ahead at the stage, as though he wasn't bordering a little too closely into her personal space.
You hesitated for only a second before leaning over to rummage through your bag, wordlessly passing a mechanical pencil around Ellie, handing it to Connor. Ellie spares a glance at you, noting the obvious confusion in your expression. Connor's arm is carefully reaching over then, grasping the corner of your textbook and pulling it off of your lap and towards himself.
Your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, almost as though you're going to mumble words in protest. You faltered at the sight of Connor scribbling something on one of the pages, any potential words failing you.
Jesse and Dina were completely oblivious. Ellie forced her gaze away, swallowing harshly.
When your textbook was returned to your lap, yourself and Ellie both looked down at the new markings on the page. Ellie's eyebrows slowly drew together at the sight of it.
A phone number. Connor had written his phone number.
It was bold. Stupidly annoying, and overbearing, Ellie thought. She felt a little too warm, suddenly, and maybe it wasn't as cold in the auditorium as she had originally thought. She briefly contemplated shedding her hoodie, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by moving around.
Ellie watched as you stared down at the written phone number. The exhale you released was shaky, and Ellie felt freakish for noticing the detail.
She couldn't tell, however, if you were flattered or annoyed. You always did tend to get weird whenever a guy showed any sort of interest in you. Refused to talk about it, like you were embarrassed or something. Rarely ever followed up on it, too.
You were always like that. It made Ellie paranoid. Paranoid that the feelings she had been harboring for longer than she would like to admit were obvious, paranoid that one of these days, you were going to give her some pathetic speech in an attempt to let her down easy.
Still, Ellie couldn't help the way in which her gaze drifted to Connor. Her eyes flickered over his features as she bit the inside of her cheek. You had dated before, sure. But the relationships were always few and far between, and they never really lasted long.
Ellie just figured you were avoidant. Or picky. Maybe both.
Was he the type of guy you would even be into?
Ellie swore under her breath, her eyes dragging back to focus upon the stage, upon the not really sure whatever the hell this guy was going on about but they had all shown up to support Dina's effort for extra credit lecture.
The hour felt slow with Connor in the seat next to Ellie, his phone number now etched onto the page of your textbook. Ellie wanted to erase it. Instead, she anchored her thoughts on the feeling of your arms pressed together.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
The sky was fully dark by the time that the event had ended, and Ellie walked you back to your apartment. She didn't need to, but she always did. She was a good friend like that.
Your face felt a little warm, the knowledge of Connor's phone number on the page causing your textbook to feel more weighted in your bag.
As September progressed, it continued to grow colder at night. The wind pushed leaves across the sidewalk, the sound comforting during the day but bordering on eerie once it was night. You were wearing your sweatshirt now.
"You gonna text him?" Ellie asked, nearly wincing as the words left her lips. They sounded so awkward. Despite all of your years of friendship, the two of you had never seemed to quite get a grip on talking about relationships, or girls or boys or whatever. It always felt a little unnatural, which didn't necessarily suit your dynamic.
"Who? Connor?"
"Yeah. Connor."
"Why would I text him?" You held the door open for Ellie, the two of you stepping into your apartment building. It wasn't even very late, but it was quiet. Your steps seemed to echo throughout the hallway.
"Because he gave you his phone number?" Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes as she jabbed the button for the elevator.
"I don't know why he did that," you mumbled.
You really didn't know why he would do that. Well, you could assume. But it still didn't make sense. It made you feel a little gross, for some reason, even though he had been perfectly polite. And the fact that it made you feel gross, made you feel guilty in turn.
"Besides. I'm like... Too busy. With class, and work. And... Hanging out with you," you added, stepping into the elevator after Ellie.
"You are so full of it," Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes.
"Shut up. It's our last year, we need to soak it in before it's over. Like, make memories and stuff."
"Last ye- Jesus. You're already thinking about that?"
"It's almost over," you pointed out, shooting Ellie a sideways glance.
"It's September. Holy shit. You're already worried about that?"
"Ellie-"
"I know," Ellie relented instantly, evidently wanting to be spared the sentimental, nostalgic spiel for the night. Besides, she did somewhat have a point. Maybe you were jumping the gun, a little. You couldn't exactly help it, though. You were sentimental to your core, rooted and grown with nostalgia for as long as you could remember.
"But you have plenty of memories with me. You do realize that, right?"
It was your turn to roll your eyes now, and you purposely bumped into Ellie as you exited from the elevator, stepping onto your floor.
"Whatever. I don't care. I don't want to text him, alright? I just... don't." You felt a little sick to your stomach, and you couldn't figure out if it was because you were trying to justify it to Ellie or to yourself.
"But wh-"
"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you text him?" You interrupted, essentially joking in response but your tone had come out just a little too defensive.
"Ha. Yeah right," Ellie mumbled, slowing to a stop as you reached your door.
"I'm glad I went tonight," You said then, attempting to change the subject.
You catch Ellie's quick expression, and you can only assume that she's instantly wondering if you will text Connor after all. "I love getting to hang out with you," you clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "And Dina. And Jesse."
Ellie shook her head, just barely managing to conceal her grin. "God, you're a sap. You're no better than you were when you were fifteen, you know that?"
"Don't care. Look, are you gonna stay?"
"Stay? I don't have anything with me. Plus, I thought you were supposed to be studying tonight."
You pretended not to be disappointed, but you were. Honestly, you were a sap. Especially when it came to Ellie. You couldn't help how much you loved being around her. When you were younger, your parents warned you about dedicating all of your time to only just one friend, but it had only continued to prove to be worth it. You were completely enamored with Ellie.
You told yourself it was platonic. You always told yourself it was platonic.
Only your journal knew otherwise.
"Fine. Go, since you can't wait to get away from me." Your words were dry but you grinned at Ellie, fumbling with your key to unlock the door.
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ellie stepped away once your door was unlocked, retrieving her own keys from her pocket. "Good luck tomorrow, though. Lunch after?"
"Yeah, definitely," you breathed out, grateful to have something to look forward to following your exam. "Text me when you get back safe. Love you," you called after Ellie once she was halfway down the hallway.
Ellie gave you a brief thumbs up in response.
Upon entering your apartment, you flipped on your lights and kicked off your shoes, carefully tucking them next to the door. After slinging the strap of your bag over a chair, you were already reaching into your pocket for your phone.
you
so you're really not staying
ellie <3
???
ellie <3
If I leave my car here overnight again I'll get another ticket
you
just wanted to hang out
ellie <3
Clingy
you
i know you are
you
i can see you in the parking lot 😁
ellie <3
🤨
ellie <3
On my way! back up
ellie <3
Fuck
ellie <3
On my way!
ellie <3
Omw jfc pack a bag
you
<<33 gimme 5 min
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
[ tags : ]
@mmmil3na @elliescoolerwife @fortune777 @boobdrug @spamfromali @seraphicsentences @muthafuckingstargirl @bready101
157 notes · View notes
fuck-customers · 2 days
Note
Me: Here's the puppy you wanted to see, ma'am.
Her: That's not the same puppy that's on your website.
Me: It is. I personally work with her. Everything matches. It's the same puppy, I promise.
Her: No, the puppy on the website is 10 weeks old. The paper on this kennel says it's 9 weeks old.
Me: Yes, but see how the picture, Animal Number, and microchip all match?
Her: Then why doesn't the age match?
Me: Because these kennel papers only get updated and printed out once a week, whereas the website is updated every couple hours. If something changes, like age with a young animal, the website will update faster than the paper will.
Her: But why does one say 10 weeks and the other say 9 weeks?
Me: ... I'm not really sure how else to explain this. *Looks to supervisor for help*
Supervisor: Because puppies are not immune to the passage of time?
Her: This isn't the same puppy. You are trying to fool me. *Leaves*
I'm still confused.
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simplyraeblue · 2 days
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hunter and hunted (jjk)
college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader
chapter warning/tags: choso confesses his feelings, lil bit of angst, mention of sex, mentions of prior trauma, suggestive themes, I have subconsciously picked a side, oops I don’t know when this will end A/N: little later than I intened to post, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, I'll be diving deeper into choso x reader with more slight sukuna x reader in the background (one sided on his part). I'm currently over 2,000 miles away from home visiting my boyfriend so I'm not sure if an update will come this week or not, we shall see! (。- .•)
index part nine | part eleven
part ten word count: 3,446
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the next morning, a surprising calm settled over the cabin: Sukuna was gone. Yuji gathered everyone together, sharing the news that Sukuna had packed up and slipped away early, leaving only a brief text for his brother: a simple “see you at home”. you felt a twing of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the sense of relief that washed over you. 
Without Sukuna’s chaotic energy looming, the last day at the cabin unfolded exactly as you had hoped. more hiking, more fun, and more drinking around the campfire.
as the day came to a close, a bittersweet feeling settled in. you didn’t want it to end; the thought of returning home meant facing Sukuna again, and it also marked the approach of summer’s end. after a long, well-deserved hot shower, you tackled the last of your packing. finally, you slipped into bed, cozying up with a book while soft lofi music played in the background – Choso had rubbed off on you. 
just as you were getting lost in your story, a gentle knock interrupted your peace. you placed your bookmark and got up to answer the door. when you opened it, Choso stood there, dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized black tee. his dark hair was half tied back, the rest falling messily around his neck. 
“can I come in?” he asked softly, and you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.
“what’s up? can’t sleep?” concern creased your brow as you studied him – it was unusual for him to seek you out like this.
“something like that.” he replied, offering a lopsided smile that made you feel a little lighter.
“well, come in and hang out then.” you motioned for him to sit on the bed, the comforting scent of his cologne wrapping around you as he passed. “I can’t sleep either. I’m not sure I want to go back tomorrow.”
“wanting to stay away from Sukuna a little longer, I assume?” he asked, settling into a comfortable spot. you nodded, and he chuckled softly. “can’t say I disagree with you there.”
you settled back onto the bed, the atmosphere in the room shifting slightly as the two of you exchanged glances. an unspoken tension hung in the air, a mix of comfort and something deeper that neither of you dared to acknowledge. 
Choso leaned back on his hands, his eyes wandering to the window, where rays of moonlight peeked through the blinds. “it’s been nice here, hasn’t it.” he said, his voice almost reflective. “I wish we could just stay forever.” 
“yeah, it really has been.” you smiled, heart fluttering at the thought of the moments you’ve spent with everyone. “no worries, no responsibilities… just us.”
he turned to look at you, his expression earnest. “you know, I think you’ve made this trip a lot more fun.”
your cheeks warmed at his words, and you shrugged playfully, trying to keep the mood light. “you call punching Sukuna in my favor fun?” the corners of your mouth curled into a teasing smile, but underneath, a flicker of tension lingered.
the air thickened with unspoken thoughts, and you both shifted slightly, a moment of hesitation hanging between you. Choso broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I don’t want to push you to talk about it – but do you know why he was saying those things?”
you wished you could tell him everything – the truth behind Sukuna’s words, the confusion and hurt that tangled inside you. but while you were staying in their house, sharing their space, the words stuck in your throat.
“ah, you know how he can be.” you replied nonchalantly, trying to brush it off. “always trying to get under someone’s skin.”
Choso’s brows furrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “I just can’t seem to figure out why he seemed to be targeting you all weekend.” his eyes roamed your face, searching for any hint of the emotions swirling beneath the surface. he wasn’t blind; he felt the shift in dynamics, but the reasons escaped him.
you let out a nervous chuckle, the sound shaky as you tried to swallow the feelings building up inside. “maybe he’s jealous that I’m hanging out with you more than him.” you joked, but it was a half-truth. lately, you had found yourself gravitating towards Choso in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
Choso hummed in agreement, a knowing look in his eyes. “he did seem annoyed that you and I were together.”
“I don’t know why, but we’ll never be able to figure out his thoughts.” you shrugged, but as Choso glanced at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickered across his face. “what? did I say something funny?”
suddenly Choso burst out laughing, his cheeks tinged with pink as his head fell back. “y’know, I thought you might’ve noticed and just never said a word – but now I know you really haven’t realized.”
embarrassment crept over you like a warm tide. “realized what?” you asked, your mind racing to piece together some hidden meaning behind his laughter.
Choso’s laughter faded, replaced by a serious expression as he reached for your hand. his skin was warm against your palm, maybe even slightly clammy with nerves, as he held your hand gently in his. your heart started to pound in your chest – were you even really breathing at this point?
“man, even Yuji had realized. I’ll have to tell him he beat you to it.”
“what are you talking about?” your voice came out as a whisper, tinged with confusion as you tried to calm your breathing.
“why do you think I don’t seem to leave your side?” Choso asked softly, one of his fingers brushing your knuckles gently, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
the weight of his words hung in the air, each syllable loaded with meaning. your heart raced, and for a moment, the world outside faded into a blur. you could see it now, the way his eyes lingered on you, the way he seemed to draw strength from your presence.
“Choso…” you breathed, caught between hope and fear, your heart yearning for something you both seemed to want but were too afraid to voice. 
 “do you really not see it?” he asked, his tone soft but insistent. “I mean, I thought it was obvious.” he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. 
you felt a flutter in your stomach. “see what, exactly?” you managed, your pulse quickening.
Choso took a breath, his eyes steady as he searched yours. “how we – I mean, how I feel about you.” the confession hung between you, heavy with meaning, and the realization struck you like lightning. 
memories came rushing back, little moments you shared with him that should have set off some sort of alarm. he had a crush on you. but for how long? 
your heart raced as you processed his words, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “you… you like me?” you stammered, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.
“yeah.” he replied, a shy smile breaking across his face. “I’ve liked you for a while now. it’s just… easier to be around you. you make everything feel lighter.”
you felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. “I had no idea.” you admitted, your voice shaky yet filled with wonder. he liked you… he really liked you? 
Choso looked thoughtful for a moment, his fingers still entwined with yours, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through you. “well, I never really had much of a chance to show you how I felt. between you attached at the hip with Yuji and your long-term crush on Sukuna, it never felt right.”
you groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “ugh, don’t remind me. that’s done and over with, in the past.” the mere mention of Sukuna brought back memories you’d rather forget, and you felt a wave of frustration wash over you.
Choso shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to yours, a mix of shyness and determination flickering in his gaze. he desperately wanted to ask what had changed, but he held back. now wasn’t the time to dig into the shadows of your past; he was finally getting you to open up, to see what had been right in front of you all along, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. 
“I hate to ask, but do you… do you maybe feel the same way?” his voice was barely above a whisper, almost timid as if he feared the answer.
your thoughts spun, pulled from the depths of uncertainty back to the warmth radiating from him. you looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, almost pleading with you to let him down gently if you needed to.
“to be honest… yes. maybe.” you bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I feel something, I know that much. I guess I haven’t allowed myself to think on it. I mean, I’m living with you and your brother, who also happens to be my best friend.”
the reminder of Sukuna weighed heavily on your thoughts, already tainting the idea of “best friend’s brother”.
taking a deep breath, you watched as hurt flickered across Choso’s face, and a pang of regret tugged at your heart. “but, I’m willing to think about it. is that okay?”
a spark of hope ignited within Choso, and a tentative smile broke through his shyness, lighting up his features. “of course, take all the time you need.” his voice was soft but firm, as if he wanted to reassure you that there was no pressure.
“just know that I don’t want you to wait for me.” you continued, nudging your shoulder playfully against his. “I’m sure there are plenty of women out there vying for your attention.
Choso’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and he shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before he met your eyes again. “none that compare to you.” his words were simple, yet caused a flutter in your stomach. 
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
just like last time, you were nestled in the backseat between Yuji and Choso for the drive home. and as promised Choso passed his earbuds over to you, smiling warmly when you offered him one to share. 
since your conversation last night, you’d been watching him carefully, taking notice of his actions that used to seem so normal and now showed his true feelings. you’d have to corner Yuji and interrogate him when you got home. but it was nice – the feeling you got around Choso. 
Sukuna hadn’t ever really pursued you, not like this, and everything had mostly felt one-sided until that fateful night. 
you had a lot of thinking to do; you’d pursued one brother already, what kind of person would you be if you went after the other? then again, no one knew about what had happened between you and Sukuna, so only you would have to answer to yourself. 
besides, you knew Choso was different from his not-really-brother.  
you fell asleep on Choso shoulder on the drive home again, this time not worried about any awkwardness that might arise when you woke up. his presence comforted you, along with the lofi he’d recommended for the ride. because of him, you hadn’t thought about what might happen when you made it home.
but you should’ve known better. not all peace can last.
you were mortified – no scarred – to be the first one in the door of the house to find Sukuna and another woman… fornicating… on the couch in the living room. Yuji and Choso bumped into your back, almost protesting your sudden stop until they too saw what you were witnessing.
Yuji grabbed your hand, yanking you back outside and slamming the door behind him to alert Sukuna of your presence. 
“did you not tell him we were on the way back?” Choso demanded of Yuji, his face contorted in with annoyance.
“I swear I did! I even gave him out eta!” Yuji exclaimed with bright red cheeks. you could only stand, frozen, staring at the wooden door in front of you as if you could still see what was going on behind it. Yuji’s hands came down on your shoulders, concern crossing his features. “are you okay? jesus, I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I think I might throw up.” Choso groaned and rubbed his face. 
before you could respond to Yuji, the front door opened again, revealing Sukuna with at least his pants now on. he didn’t show any remorse, or embarrassment, as he merely smiled directly at you and ignored the other two. 
“didn’t hear you come in.” Sukuna told you, his smirk causing you to grit your teeth in frustration. “or, didn’t really care is more accurate.”
“you couldn’t have warned us?” Yuji questioned.
Sukuna ignored Yuji, stepping down one stair to get closer to you. “did ya like what ya saw?” you felt Choso’s body still next to you, probably fighting the urge to punch him again.
with the confession you’d received from Choso last night, you felt a surge of sudden confidence course through you. you wanted to wipe that smug look off of Sukuna’s face. “not really, it was kind of small.” you managed to bite out.
you might not have held it together, had Yuji not burst into laughter at your words. Choso felt an extreme sense of pride in you as he heard your old self resurface to take Sukuna down a peg. but Sukuna, however, only felt frustrated, maybe hurt, and surprisingly embarrassed.
the eldest brother merely tsked at you, turning on his heel to retreat into the house. Yuji and Choso both congratulated you for handling yourself, but you only felt hot all over – you knew you’d lied, Sukuna knew it, so why didn’t he push back? 
the three of you waited outside for a bit longer, only entering when you deemed it safe. there was no sign of the white-haired woman from earlier, and you assumed that Sukuna had taken her upstairs to his bedroom. 
you had always known Sukuna to be a bit of a player… so why did you now feel sick to your stomach at the thought of him with another woman?
throughout the afternoon and well into the night, your mind was a relentless whirlwind, circling back to that infuriating smirk he wore when you caught him in the act. why was it bugging you so damn much?
after Choso and Yuji had gone to bed, you quietly slipped into the kitchen, seeking solace in a pint of double fudge ice cream. you had nearly devoured half a pint when you heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open and shutting upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps descending. 
“eating your feelings, huh?” Sukuna’s voice broke through the stillness as he rounded the corner, catching sight of you in your pajamas, chocolate smudged all over your mouth.
you swallowed the mouthful you had just taken, frantically wiping at the mess with a napkin. “I don’t have feelings to eat away, actually. are you projecting your issues onto me, Sukuna.” you were taken aback by your own defiance; it felt strange to stand your ground against him again.
he chuckled, plucking a spoon from the drawer before leaning over and stealing a bite of your ice cream. you shot him a glare, surprised by his audacity. did he really think things could back to how they once were?
“nope. just ran out of stamina earlier and needed a boost.” there it was again – his infuriatingly arrogant demeanor, as if he thrived on getting under your skin.
“what, did your girlfriend leave already?” you shot back, attempting to keep your voice steady.
Sukuna paused, holding up his index finger as if to half the insults swirling in your mind. “first, she’s not a girlfriend. probably won’t see her again. second, she left while you were hiding in your room.”
the thought struck you like a lightning bolt: did you hurt her the way you hurt me?
it wasn’t until you caught the stunned expression on Sukuna’s face that you realized the words had slipped out before you could reign them in. the shock in his wide eyes mirrored the warmth creeping up your cheeks. there was no taking it back now. with the house quiet and your heart racing, a surge of courage rose within you, pushing you to confront the truth.
“did you hurt her the way you hurt me? did you leave bruises, bleeding bite marks, everything that you made me deal with after you kicked me out?” oh god, it was word vomiting out of you at this point – everything you’d held back, shoved so deep into your soul and fought to conceal surfaced in a fit of rage you could no longer contain.
you pressed on, your voice rising slightly. “did you toss a towel at her and tell her to leave too? did you show her any sign of care or emotion, or was I the only one denied that kindness?”
“Now wait a minute-”
“did you ever ask what she wanted?” you shouted, fists clenched at your side, the ice cream forgotten as it topped off the counter and began to drip and melt into a puddle. the mess mirrored your internal chaos, but you were too consumed by anger to care.
Sukuna only stared. that was all he could do, and it pissed you off more than if he’d said something else. his eyes were wide – you assumed from surprise that you were fighting back. 
unbeknownst to you, you were wrong. that glimmer of surprise you saw was Sukuna trying to replay that night, searching his memories for what he’d done wrong. had you not enjoyed it? had he not… done it right? done right by you? 
as he finally opened his mouth to say something, you held up your hand to stop him. “y’know, I don’t really want to hear it. you’ve been an ass ever since then; I almost gave you the benefit of the doubt, but you fell off the face of the earth around me. I’m going to bed – finish that ice cream if you want.”
you stomped off to your room, leaving a stunned Sukuna standing frozen in the kitchen, his brain fighting to comprehend the words you’d just hurled at him. it wasn’t until your door had slammed shut that he snapped out of it. he shook his head, trying to recollect himself before going back to his room, deserting the mess of ice cream on the counter. 
he’d only done what others had enjoyed in the past. in the moment, he thought you enjoyed it too. was he supposed to do something different? is that why you’ve been so angry with him? he’d chalked it up to you wanting to put on a front in the eyes of everyone else, but this past weekend had proven him wrong.
when he had seen how comfortably you leaned into Choso, how you seemed to pull away in favor of the younger brother, it had struck a nerve deep within Sukuna. it felt like a dagger twisting in his chest, and the realization that you might have tossed his aside sent a surge of jealousy through him. 
that’s why he had exploded in anger this weekend, lashing out with hurtful words that hung in the air like smoke. he couldn’t shake the feeling that you had chosen someone else over him.
as his thoughts spiraled into chaos, he climbed the stairs, each step heavy with conflicting emotions. reaching the top, he found the other half of the problem standing in the doorway opposite of his. when Sukuna’s eyes locked with Choso’s, he was met with a look of darkness, an unsettling mix of disappointment and anger that spoke volumes without a word.
“so, you heard all that, huh?” Sukuna managed to say, his voice barely a whisper, the pain evident in each syllable. it was a simple question, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.
in response, Choso simply slammed his door, the force reverberating through the hallway and rattling the walls.
down in your room, completely unaware of the storm brewing above, you assumed it was Sukuna who had slammed his door in frustration. little did you know, the tension had escalated to a point where your carefully guarded secret was on the brink of being blown wide open.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
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yan-maid-cafe · 2 days
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Yandere Monster Fucker Concepts
Not a yandere monster. A yandere monster fucker with a darling monster.
Yandere Royal that gets kidnapped by the big snarling dragon. Only to become obsessed with you and not wanting to be saved. Anytime the hero comes, they alert their big dragon love. Watching as you burn the royal's armies to a crisp. They just want a happy little future between them, you, and your children. Don't question them, they will find a way.
Yandere Cult Leader and their eldritch god. They found you when they were at their lowest and viewed you as their saviour. They know that you're not a "good god", it's hard to hold that belief after sacrificing human life to you, but they don't care. They'll sacrifice countless cultists to you if it means that they can be in your good graces. They can't wait for you to finally arrive into their world, you'll destroy everything in your path and create your paradise. And maybe if they pray enough you'll make them your spouse. Or your pet. They'll take either at this point.
Yandere Pirate that unknowingly enters siren territory while sailing with his crew. Crashing into the rocks, leaving them stranded on the damaged ship. Despite trying to fight off the alluring melody, one by one his men begin to jump off the side into the water to be ripped apart by the monsters. Until finally the captain falls victim too, jumping into the water and feeling themself submerge. Only to be met face to face with the siren that had led them here, but they're beautiful, more beautiful then anyone the captain had seen. Their arms outstretched as if to embrace them. But at that moment, the captain was pulled out of the water by another ship of men. They crew quickly covering his ears before he could hear the song again. Able to read the men's lips as they explained that they were headed back to land. But all the captain could focus on was the beast he had just seen, and just how badly he wanted to jump in again.
Yandere Villain that works alongside a vast array of monsters, but only one catches their eye. One of the small kobolds that they had recruited. From the looks of it, they appeared to be the leader of their little group. They were actually starting to think that those kobolds didn't even listen to them, just their little leader. Which was less then ideal, that disloyalty would just make a coup easier to perform. So the villain needed to get closer to the reptilian leader, if they could get closer to them, than maybe they could redirect that loyalty towards themself. But they were cought off guard by the scrappy little thing, they weren't the brightest but they were very cunning. Having set traps all over the villain's lair in case any wannabe heros showed up. And they seemed to have memorized the villain's plans and were already getting their army in on it. Before they even knew it, the villain finally understood why the other Kobolds picked this one to be their leader. And suddenly the little reptiles didn't seem to dispossable.
I have a lot of yandere ideas but I'm too lazy to write them all. So I'm thinking of posting more concepts like this so I can post more often. It was much easier to write for me.
Also I tried to keep both the yandere and the reader gender nuetral. Which was easier said then done. So if this makes no sense, I'm sorry. I tried to make it work.
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littlefireball · 3 days
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ʜᴊ|ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ (ᴍ)
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ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ʀᴏʙʙᴇʀʏ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ(?)|ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.9ᴋ
Summary: The tranquil existence was shattered today by the merciless pirates. You surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, letting it engulf you. Yet, in that moment of darkness, a figure emerged to rescue you. But is this hero a beacon of hope or a harbinger of doom?
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The golden rays of the morning sun filter through the window, warming your face as you rise. Just like every other day, you gather your belongings and step outside, exchanging friendly greetings with the neighbors before unlocking the door to the café right on schedule.
All is as it should be.
"Good morning, Y/N!" called out a familiar voice. It was a middle-aged man, a loyal customer who always ordered the same sandwich without fail.
"Morning!" you replied, already moving with practiced ease to prepare his breakfast.
"How're you doing?" 
"Fine I guess." 
"It's good to hear." He sighed. "Did you hear the news? Pirates have been causing quite a stir lately.
"Yeah… all we can do is hope they steer clear of our town."
"Let's hope so." He smirked helplessly. "Maybe I should just pack up and find a new place."
"Pack up? Where?"
"I'm not sure, just anywhere that feels safe." He shrugged. "What about you? Aren't you thinking of moving?"
"I wish I could. But, you know… my funds are pretty tight."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Here's your sandwich."
"Thanks." He settled the bill and walked out, leaving you alone in the café.
Just as you turned around to tidy up the table, a loud shock caught you off guard. 
"Run!!" The once tranquil town erupted into chaos, and you peered out the window, heart racing with dread. Tons of men wielding a machete swung their weapons menacingly, demanding that the terrified residents surrender their belongings. The air was filled with desperate cries and frantic screams as people scattered in every direction. 
Without a moment's hesitation, you dashed to the door, but just as you reached for the lock, a group of men burst in, kicking the door wide open. You stumbled to the floor, mortified, and before you could regain your footing to fight back, one of the men seized you roughly.
"Let go of me, you scoundrel!" you shouted, thrashing against his grip, but the pirate's hand clamped down on your wrist like a vice.  
"Shut your mouth, you wench!" he barked. The ship rocked violently beneath you as you were dragged onto the deck, your struggles futile against the chains that bound you. The laughter of the pirates echoed around you as they shoved you aside. Helpless, you watched in horror as the small shop you had poured your heart into was ransacked, the townsfolk fleeing in terror, and the once vibrant community fell into an eerie stillness.
"Hey, see this baby girl~how cute you are!" " "Leave me alone, you filthy scum!" Your voice quivered with a mix of fear and defiance as you glared at the pirate who had captured you. 
One of them, should be the captain, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, approached you with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. "A feisty one, aren't you? We'll see how long that lasts," he sneered, his breath reeking of rum and malice. "Set sail!"  
As the boat glides farther into the distance, the town gradually fades from view. The lively chatter of vendors hawking their wares in the bustling market is replaced by the lingering echoes of laughter that grate on your nerves.The salty sea air stung your eyes as you struggled against the chains that bound you to the wooden post. 
Tsk…
The crashing waves echoed around you, a constant reminder of your precarious situation. 
Frantic escape ideas raced through your mind. Yet, you were a land dweller, and diving into the ocean means dying. What options do you have? Can you really call out for someone to rescue you? Here you are, in the heart of the sea—who could—
"Turn left!!!!!It's ATEEZ's ship!!" A loud cry jolted you from your thoughts. Just as you were about to grasp the situation, everything unfolded before your eyes. A deafening roar erupted from the left side of the ship, causing it to lurch violently and sending terror through the crew. The sturdy vessel splintered, hurling pirates overboard, and you tumbled into the frigid sea.
The icy water enveloped you, and you fought to break the surface, but the ocean constricted your breath and drained your strength. As despair set in, you surrendered to the darkness. Just then, strong arms seized you, pulling you upward. Your vision blurred, obscuring your savior's identity, and consciousness slipped away.
—---
Coughing violently, you expelled the salty seawater that had filled your mouth. Your breaths came in rapid gasps, a primal instinct driving you to inhale as if the very air might slip away. As clarity returned, you realized that you were still aboard the vessel... but the faces of the crew surrounding you seemed unfamiliar.
"Are you awake?" A gentle voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see a man clad in a flowing white robe, his expression warm and reassuring.  
"Where... am I?" you managed to whisper, your voice barely above a breath.  
"A ship, obviously," Yunho replied. "You fell into the sea and Jongho saved you." 
The vivid image of the recent attack flickered on the screen, and a wave of dread washed over you as you gazed at the man standing before you. ATEEZ, you recalled, infamous for their ruthless piracy. What would they do? Would they end your life? But then again, why would they bother to rescue you?
"It's perfectly normal to feel a bit disoriented right now. It's a common reaction after being submerged in water..." The man's voice, surprisingly calm, began to ease the tension in your chest. Perhaps they weren't as terrifying as the tales suggested? Still, you knew better than to let your guard down.
"Is she alright?" At that moment, Hongjoong gently knocked and opened the door. His striking features made your heart race. Despite your reluctance to admit it, he was undeniably handsome, far from the "demon" the stories painted him to be.
"Yah, she is just a bit frightened," Yunho said as he rose to his feet, and Hongjoong nodded, his gaze remained fixed on you.
"What's your name, lady?"
"Y/N..."
"I'm Hongjoong, the captain. This is Yunho, our doctor." You nodded as he continued, "I'm sorry for your fall into the sea. It was indeed our attack that caused the ship you were on to sink."
"No... I owe you my gratitude. You were the ones who saved me."
He shrugged with a warm smile. "Just take some time to rest, and we'll arrange for you to be taken to the nearest town."
You nodded, and they stepped out, leaving you to gather your thoughts. You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.
You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.
"What is the captain thinking? Bringing a woman aboard?"
"Exactly! This is bound to bring us misfortune!"
"Or maybe he plans to trade her? She's not too shabby, after all..."
"But I heard she's being sent to other towns."
"Is it really that straightforward?"
You clamped a hand over your mouth, panic rising within you, tears welling in your eyes as your heart raced. They were clearly not good men. But what could you do? Escape? That was out of the question. How could you prove to them that you wouldn't bring them bad luck? It was easy to say, but how could you actually do it? Just as your mind spiraled into chaos, loud voices broke through your thoughts.
"Why are we having abura soba again?" Hongjoong grumbled.
"Because they're delicious," Yunho replied.
"That's excessive, don't you think?" Hongjoong shot back. "I eat abura soba five days a week!"
"Is that a problem? The crew loves it," Wooyoung chimed in as he knocked on your door. When you opened it, he stood there with a steaming bowl of noodles.
"Hey there, Y/N, right? Here, if you don't mind, I made this for you," Wooyoung said, placing the bowl on your table. "I'm Wooyoung, by the way."
"Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Though you were wary of possible poison, your hunger overpowered your caution. You took a bite, and to your surprise, it was delicious. Before long, the bowl was empty, and you watched as the others busied themselves with cleaning up.
"Hey, Y/N," Wooyoung approached you, balancing several bowls in his hands. "Are you done? You can hand the bowl back to me."
"Oh, it's fine. Let me help you. You look a bit worn out."
"Thanks, I appreciate it." You joined him in gathering bowls and chopsticks, following him to the kitchen. As you walked, you took in your surroundings, contemplating your next move... perhaps earning their trust was the best strategy for survival, at least for now.
As you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed Hongjoong frantically working on something, clearly in a rush.
"Hey, hyung. Just try not to shatter the bowl again," Wooyoung remarked, already scrubbing the dishes.
"I won't," Hongjoong replied, but his next words nearly sent the bowl tumbling.
"Um… are you going to lend him a hand?" you whispered to Wooyoung.
"Nope. I'm bust. Maybe you should go see what he's up to."  
With that, you approached Hongjoong cautiously. This could be a perfect chance to earn his trust.
"Hongjoong?"
"Yah?"
"Do you need any help?" You glanced at the mess on the table, where he was clumsily beating eggs.
"No, I'm good. Oh no!"
You quickly caught the bowls and chopsticks as they teetered, relieved they didn't break.
"Hmm… if you're okay with it, I could cook something up for you."
"Really?"
"I actually work as a cook."
"Ah, so you're just like Wooyoung."
"I guess so. What do you feel like eating?"
"Just not abura soba, please." You grinned and nodded. "And I'm not a fan of vegetables."
"Got it."
You set to work with the ingredients spread out on the table, whipping up the dishes you know best while ensuring the table remains neat. Before long, your masterpiece was complete. You entered the dining hall, cradling a bowl of fragrant soup. Hongjoong stood tall, his eyes widening at the sight of you.
"Oh wow! That smells so good!" he exclaimed, quickly blowing on the noodles before digging in. "This is absolutely delicious!" A sense of pride swelled within you as you witnessed his joy, a reminder of why you chose the culinary path.
"Perhaps you should be my personal chef," he joked, a playful smirk on his lips. You smile back, taking his words lightly, fully aware that you won't be staying long here. 
Hongjoong seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders dropping slightly as he savored each bite, his eyes closed in blissful contentment.
"I can't believe I've never had anything like this before," he said, opening his eyes to meet yours with a newfound appreciation. "You really are talented."
You blushed slightly, grateful for the compliment. "Thank you, Hongjoong. It's just something I enjoy doing."
As you sat down across from him, Wooyoung wandered in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, what's going on here? Did I miss the party?"
"Just having a nice meal," Hongjoong replied, gesturing to the now half-empty bowl in front of him.
Wooyoung's expression softened, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Can I have a taste?"
"Nope. That's mine." 
Hongjoong immediately finished them all, not letting Wooyoung eat. 
"Yah!Hyung!" "Who told you not to help me?" 
You chuckled, watching them quarreling playfully. It appeared that this was part of their everyday life. From this viewpoint, they were completely disconnected from any notion of evil. 
In the days that followed, it felt as if you had stepped into the role of Hongjoong's personal chef. Initially, he continued to enjoy Wooyoung's meals, but he would occasionally drop hints that your cooking was just as delightful. Eventually, you took the plunge and prepared a dish just for him, hoping to win his trust. The joy on his face was infectious; he began to request your cook regularly, and soon, even some of the crew members were intrigued by your skills. 
Cooking for them brought you immense joy, as their satisfaction filled you with happiness. Over time, your initial apprehension faded, and the thought of leaving began to slip from your mind. The idea of visiting the nearby town seemed to vanish. Yet, in recent days, Hongjoong's demeanor shifted, making you reconsider your plans.
Did you do something to upset him? How could you make up for him? You worried about whether you would be killed for this? No. What you were concerned about was what if Hongjoong didn't like you?
He had grown somewhat distant, his warmth replaced by a chill that left you unsettled. This was especially evident when you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung; his coldness bordered on anger. Today was no different.
"Are you alright, Y/N? You look a bit pale," Wooyoung asked, concern etched on his face.
"Just feeling a little under the weather..." you replied with a bittersweet smile, though the cramping in your abdomen made it hard to stand. You suspected the long days at sea and the cold had taken a toll on your body. "Hiss..."
"Maybe you should take a break?" "But I want to make some food for Hongjoong…" You winced, wanting to refuse and continue helping in the kitchen, but the pain rendered your limbs weak, making cooking impossible.
"Nah. You should go back to your room." 
"But what if he didn't like me?" 
"Huh?"
"I mean…he may hate me if I don't cook for him." 
"He wouldn't think so.
"But…"
"No. Just go take a rest, okay? I can handle." Wooyoung stopped you. "Can you walk?"
"I think so?" In reality, each step felt like a monumental challenge.  
"Let me help you." Wooyoung took your hand and supported your shoulders, a moment that caught Hongjoong's eye.
"What are you doing?" he approached, anger flashing in his eyes, but as he noticed the pain etched on your face, his expression shifted. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Y/N?"
"She's sick." Wooyoung said. 
"I'm not asking you." 
Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Hongjoong was jealous. 
"So now I will send her to her room." 
"No." Hongjoong pulled you to his arms carefully. "I will send her and you cook." 
"Okay, okay." 
—----
"Do you need any medicine?" Hongjoong inquired as he gently laid you down on the bed. "Or should I call Yunho for assistance?"
"Actually..." you winced, the pain making your words slow. "It's just period cramps."
"Oh... umm... would something warm help? Maybe hot water?"
You nodded, and he quickly dashed out to fetch a cup of steaming water.
"Here, be careful." He supported your back as you sat up, handing you the warm cup.
"Thank you." You took a sip, feeling the soothing warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the hot water; it was Hongjoong's tender care that made your heart flutter. You couldn't deny the twinge of sadness when he seemed distant. You longed for his smile and the sweet words he used to share. Unbeknownst to you, your feelings for him were already blossoming.
"Do you need more?" As you lifted your gaze, you noticed how close he was, causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. "No, it's okay."
Hongjoong smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he noticed your embarrassment. "Alright, but let me know if you need anything else. I'm here for you." 
"Thank you," you replied with a nod. "But Wooyoung really needs to step up; he's in charge of everyone's lunch."
Hongjoong feigned a cough as he plopped down beside you, irritation evident in his voice. "It's no big deal; he's used to it. You shouldn't worry about him." You stifled a laugh—wasn't he just a tad envious?
"Nope. Everyone seems to be eating a lot more these days," you teased, enjoying the playful banter as his jealousy was unmistakable.
"Why are you so concerned about him? Do you have a crush on him?" His question took you by surprise, and it seemed to catch him off guard too. "Ugh, forget it."
"Does it bother you who I like?" You asked. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"No, it's not that," Hongjoong stammered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "It's just…I didn't expect you to be interested in him. He's always been so…carefree and unpredictable." 
I once had a crush, but it wasn't on Wooyoung. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as a warm sensation blossomed in your chest. After inhaling deeply, you were prepared to share your truth. "Hongjoong… there's something special about what I feel… when you're near, my heart starts to race. I think I might be falling for you."
"Seriously?" Your confession surprised him, and a shy yet joyful smile spread across his face. "Were you just teasing me?"
"Not at all. I would never lie about how I feel."
He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of jest. The sincerity in your tone echoed through the room, and the tension between you seemed to dissolve. Hongjoong's hand, which had been resting on the bedsheets, gently brushed against yours, and you didn't pull away.
"I never thought... I mean, I've always been there for you, but I never expected..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Expected what?" You prompted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.
Hongjoong looked down, his fingers entwining with yours. "I never imagined that you would see me as more than just a friend. I've always admired you, from afar, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same way."
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. 
"I think I like you, too." Hongjoong's expression softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. It was a gentle, comforting embrace that spoke volumes of the feelings he had been holding back.
"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm glad you feel the same way."
Smiling, you gave him a nod after a gazing. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, catching you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss. 
As you lay back on the bed, he hovered over you, the kiss unbroken. He was tender and cautious, as if he feared making you uneasy.
"I have a good way to reduce the period pain." He settled your hand on his cheek, giving a peck on that. "Do you wanna give it a try?"
You knew what he meant and what he wanted to do. Of course, you wanted to, too. 
"Please." 
"Wait for a while." He pecked at you after leaving for a towel and condom. Placing the towel under your thighs, he then lifted up your dress to slide down your panties. 
"I love you, y/n." He towered you, pulling out his cock from his panties. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of her cheek, as if committing her beauty to memory. You  closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips, inviting him closer.
Their lips met in a kiss that was at once tender and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. He guided his member to your entrance, which was already wrapped up in a condom, then slowly eased into you. 
You moaned out as you broke the kiss, the sensation of being filled up was weird you could say. Hongjoong, same as you, felt a little bit uneasy because of your sticky blood. 
"It hurts…" A deep frown creased your forehead as the familiar grip of menstrual pain returned. Watching you suffer, Hongjoong's heart ached with sorrow. He lingered, allowing your pain to fade gradually, before he began to move in and out. His rhythm matched the tenderness of his kisses, a blend of softness and intensity.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. His cock could easily reach your sensitive spot thanks to your blood. Settling your legs around his waist, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. 
"Shit, it feels good." "Hongjoong…" "It's okay, love." His head landed in your neck, dropping a broken kiss on that. It began with a gentle brush of lips against the warm, smooth skin, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down your spine. He deepened his kiss as he started to rush, his lips lingering softly on the curve of the neck as well as his thick cock─grazing your hot wall deliciously as he moved back and forth. 
"Joong…it's…fuck…"His hard tip suddenly hit your sweet spot, making you whole body squirm and let out a shy moan. "Here?" He hit it again, you couldn't help but tighten your wall. The wave of excitement rushed throughout your body each time he collided with it. You loved it. 
"Please, joong. I need more." "As you wish,  baby girl." He lifted up his hips, withdrawing his cock until only his tip inside you, then shoving back with a great force. You arched your back, opening your mouth for better breathing. The crash he made caused you to run out of oxygen. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He fucked you so fast and hit the same spot dead on. All the heat gathered in your lower core and formed a knot. Pain?It was already faded away and instead by your climax. Your wall clenched his cock, urging him to bring you to the edge. He picked up his pace, panting heavily and letting out a throaty moan. 
Your legs were placed on his shoulder, oh, he went so deep. He sat up straight, grabbing your knees and pushed into your wetness. The noise from outside faded away, leaving only the rapid thumping of your heart and the skin slapping sound, drowning out the chaos beyond. His ball hit your ass each time his tip reached the deepest, making you groan without care. 
His hand found his way to your collar, pulling it down to explode your fine chest. He pushed up your bra, squeezing your breast hard while teasing your nipple, earning a shy chuckle from your lips. "Gotta taste you." He leaned down to suck your nipple, his tongue licked everywhere he could reach. 
The double excitement made you spin. There was nothing left but only the kissing sound and the skin slapping sound bouncing off the wall. 
"I'm so close." He huffed, his thrust lost its rhythm as he found the way to peak. You, too. After a few thrust and a long throaty moan, both of you came. "Goodness." Your embrace tightened as you two didn't want to leave. Catching his breath, he pecked at your cheek before removing. 
"Am I right?Does it hurt now?" He asked, a grin played on his lips. 
"No." You shook your head. "Thank you." You gazed into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with the aftermath of their intimacy.
"Hey, I made lunch." Wooyoung suddenly knocked on your door, giving you two shocks. "But I think you two are full now?"
"No…ugh…we'll eat later." Hongjoong stammered. 
"Alright. You two will be hungry for sure especially after an intense team sport!" Wooyoung teased. 
"Shut up!Wooyoung!Leave!" 
"Okay, okay~Call me if you need more condoms." 
"I'll just kill you, you asshole!" 
Ah…it was so embarrassing.
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tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615
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the matchmatic 3000 | jake sim
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✰ summary: simp, i mean, sim jaeyun is a hopeless romantic. a cursed hopeless romantic, he would say, doomed to exist as just your friend, nothing more. but when his genius (read: nerdy) best friend creates a highly accurate matchmaking app for the university, jake is ready to bribe, beg, and possibly sell his soul to make sure he gets paired with you. plan a? hack the system. plan b? there is no plan b. to jake, being delulu is the solulu, and he's all in.
✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. bestfriends!jay & heeseung]
✰ genre: fluff, comedy | college!au, matchmaking!au, friendstolovers!au, pining, pining, pining heh
✰ contains: honestly, just crack. i had too much fun with the humor in this one i think, whoops! lots of awkward tension, slow burn, pining, more pining, cute kithes (~ ̄³ ̄)~, reader is oblivious beyond saving, but no actual warnings other than maybe one or two cuss words i think!
✰ wc: ...19k (i swear this wasn't intentional...once again, i had too much fun) 
✰ a/n: it's finally done! i'm nervvy because i haven't posted a fic in almost three years now,,,but i randomly got inspo one day after seeing a tiktok about a matchmaking questionnare and now here we are! i loved writing these characters, it was so much fun,,,but i also don't know how to feel abt the whole thing so i hope people enjoy this !! :’)) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
Simply put, Jake Sim is a simp. His name should honestly be legally changed from Sim Jae-yun to Simp Jae-yun at this point. 
Jake doesn’t fall often, but when he does, he hits the ground with the force of a malfunctioning rocket ship. Once in the third grade, a girl gave him a Hello Kitty bandage after he face-planted off the playground swings. Cute, right? Well, Jake was so smitten, he spent the next week sliding his prized dino chicken nuggets across the lunch table like they were some ancient currency to win her over.  
Did it work? Sort of. Did she eat all his nuggets without ever looking back? Absolutely.  
But this? With you? This is different.  
Jake would give up more than just his room-temp mystery-meat pterodactyls for you. He thinks he’d willingly cat-sit twelve cats—despite his strong dislike for cats. He thinks he’d voluntarily train for the national triathlon—despite always getting winded walking up the two flights of stairs to get to his apartment. He’d probably let you have the last Supreme pizza slice, which for Jake, is basically like offering you his soul on a silver platter. 
Forget falling—Jake didn’t just trip, no. He plummeted into a cartoon-style pit, the kind covered with leaves spread over the top like some dollar-store disguise. He’s still down there, metaphorically flailing around like a maniac while you’re chilling up above, completely unaware that you Tom & Jerry-ed his heart. 
In hindsight, Jake hopelessly pining for you was about as inevitable as a rom-com misunderstanding. The second his childhood best friend Grace—aka your college best friend and roommate—introduced you guys during freshman year orientation, Jake was hit with the biggest, dumbest case of whiplash known to mankind. 
You were so confident, so outgoing, so unapologetically you. You were like sunshine, and Jake was just there, squinting and hoping he wouldn't spontaneously combust into a thousand ashes from simply staring at you. 
But, as with all classic tropes (and pining fanfics), Jake knows that mixing friend groups and love interests is a recipe for disaster. And not just any disaster—a culinary trainwreck. Worse than whatever recipe the dining hall uses to make their sad excuse for tacos. Like, is it beef? Is it tofu? Who knows, and honestly, I don't think anyone wants to know.  
Anyways, that brings us to today: a couple years later, with Jake still mooning over his friend. His feelings remain the best-kept secret in the history of best-kept secrets—well, if secrets were meant to be as obvious as a neon sign in a blackout. 
In fact, Jake’s attempts at subtlety are about as smooth as a drunk giraffe on roller skates. Whenever you walk into the room, it’s like someone hits the ‘shutdown’ button on his brain. One second, he’s cracking jokes and holding conversations just fine, the next? Boom. Total system failure. You can almost hear the Windows XP error sound the moment you catch him off guard with a smile.
It’s not that Jake can’t talk to you—he’s your friend, after all. But the second he catches your sweet laugh or smile and his feelings come rolling in and the butterflies come out? Well, that’s when words start slipping through his fingers like sand, and his once confident banter turns into a cautious game of verbal Jenga. 
His brilliant solution?
Simple: stick to safe topics and keep it light. Foolproof, right? Well, if your idea of foolproof includes missed opportunities and enough internal cringe to fuel a thousand regret-filled 3am thoughts.
Luckily for him, you’ve gone all these years mistaking his massive, raging, hormonal crush on you as part of his ‘friendly, sweet, soft-spoken boy’ personality. And Jake? He’ll take that over an awkward-confession-which-may-lead-to-a-crash-and-burn-outcome any day. 
Honestly, who wouldn’t? Jake thinks as he glances at you from across the lunch table, currently laughing at one of Jay’s terrible puns. Yep, being friends with you is totally fine… totally fine… totally fine.
Jake’s totally fine.
Jake is totally not one more bad-Jay-pun away from writing tragic love haikus in his Notes app and forming a backstory about his unrequited feelings.
As if right on cue, Jay cracks a banana-physics joke (because, obviously, Jay is an expert in theoretical physics despite never having taken a class), and while everyone else is laughing, Jake’s over here, contemplating the meaning of life:
Her laugh echoes bright, I’m lost, no GPS found, Help, I’m still simping.
Jake stares down at his phone, horrified. Did he seriously just… haiku his feelings? Help. Is this what rock-bottom looks like?
"Alright listen up you peasants," Heeseung clears his throat dramatically as he suddenly approaches the group's lunch table located outside on campus grounds, interrupting Jake's poetic inner melodrama. "Your savior has arrived."  
“This better be good, Hee. The last time you said that, you tried to convince us that you could drink five Red Bulls, pull an all-nighter, and still pass that chem exam,” you smirk questionably. 
Heeseung points at you. “And I did pass.” 
“You got a 61%,” Grace says, not even looking up from her phone. 
“That’s still passing!” Heeseung declares, full of confidence. “Anyway, this time is different. I’ve been working on something life-changing.” 
Jake shoots a glance in your direction before quickly looking away. He wants to say something witty, something that could make you laugh, but his brain is like, nah bro, not today. Instead, he nervously fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. Since when was there a hole there?
“Life-changing?” Jay leans back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk. “What, are you finally going to start that YouTube channel where you rank ramen brands?” 
Heeseung rolls his eyes as he takes a seat, “First of all, that channel is coming. But no, this is better. Way better. I’ve created…” 
He pauses for dramatic effect, looking at everyone and drumming his fingers against the table,“…a matchmaking algorithm.” 
You burst out laughing, breaking the silence of the table, “What? Like a dating app?” 
“Is this about to be Tinder, but, like, nerdy?” Grace raises an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. 
“Not quite. It’s a scientific, algorithm-based matching system, designed to pair people based on compatibility and mutual interests. And, lucky for you all, I’m testing it out on campus,” Heeseung grins, completely unbothered. 
Jake’s heart skips a beat. Matchmaking? His mind first immediately goes to you. And then, downright panic. What if this robot thing pairs you with someone else? Oh god, what if it pairs you with, like, Jay, and he has to watch you guys flirt non-stop while he sits in the corner like a sad, dying houseplant? (mental note: water your houseplants when you get back to your dorm, jake!)
“Didn’t you also say it was ‘scientific’ when you ate an entire pack of Mentos and then drank Coke?” Grace’s brows furrow at the boy.
Heeseung scoffs at her dramatically. “That was for science. This is for love.” 
You lean forward into the table, clearly interested.
“So you’re saying this app will scientifically find me a soulmate?” Your eyes light up and Jake’s heart skips a second beat as they happen to make eye contact with him as you say that. Please let that soulmate be me. Please. “What’s the catch? You’re not the type to just… help people find 'love' for free.” 
Heeseung shrugs, pretending to be modest, “Not true! I’m doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart.” 
Jay coughs, "Cap.” 
“Okay, fine,” Heeseung admits, “it’s for a coding competition. The winner gets a year’s worth of free ramen from that noodle place near the dorms.” 
Grace’s jaw drops. “You mean Noodle Nirvana? The one with the spicy miso?” 
“Precisely, the one with the spicy miso," Heeseung nods proudly. 
You let out a giggle, “So you’re telling me, you’ve created a love machine just so you can hoard ramen?” 
“Correction,” Heeseung says, raising a finger, “I’ve created a highly advanced matchmaking algorithm to bring people together and also hoard ramen.” 
“Good enough” you shrug, raising your iced coffee in a mock toast to your nerdy friend. “Sign me up.” 
Oh no. Jake's heart skips a third beat (someone get him an ambulance please). Oh god, you're most definitely going to get matched up with someone else. And if that happens, bye-bye to the 12 black cats he’s already mentally prepared to care for. Bye-bye triathlon training.  
But on the other hand...this could be Jake's golden opportunity—that is if somehow the universe decides to play nice and matches you with him. This could be his chance, his moment, his... immediate descent into chaos. 
"Can your app match me with that cute barista that works at the campus boba shop every Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 12pm to 5pm?" Jay's eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement.  
Heeseung gives Jay a look that says he’s one step away from calling campus security. "First of all, that’s borderline stalker territory. Second, no. It doesn’t work that way."
"So..there's no way you can influence the results at all? It's purely the robot’s doing?" you cock your head at Heeseung. 
"Again, it's an algorithm! Not a robot," he then shrugs, "and I’m above bribery. Unless, of course, you’ve got a worthy offer."
"ooOoOh, corruption? Me likey," Jay’s eyebrows shoot up in mischief, "I'm in. Where do I sign up?" 
“Already done, my friends. Check your emails," Heeseung pulls out his phone and points at it.  
Jake’s phone buzzes at that moment, and when he opens it, the email is sitting at the top of his inbox. He’s never been more nervous to open an email in his life. Well, except maybe his college acceptance letter. Or his professor’s recent feedback on his History of Modern Warfare essay. 
You tap your screen and start reading the email out loud:
Subject: [IMPORTANT SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT]  Hello there awesome students & fellow single-tons, Have you ever looked around campus and thought, ‘Wow, everyone here is either taken, weird, or impossible to talk to?’ Well, I’m here to save you from the trenches of singleness with...*drumroll please*  THE MATCHMATIC 3000  — the university's very own matchmaking algorithm!  How does it work you ask? Simple.  1. Download the app from the link in this email (no, it's not a scam or a virus, I promise).   2. Enter your name and student ID (for verification purposes only – no catfishing allowed!)   3. Answer a bunch of super fun questions that might make you question your life choices but will definitely help MatchMatic 3000 find your perfect match!  Once you’re done, the app will work its algorithmic magic to pair you with someone who’s probably just as confused about life as you are but is at least willing to share similar pizza toppings with you. The results will be sent out after a few days of algorithmic wizardry! Why am I doing this, you ask? Because who doesn’t love a good matchmaking fiasco? It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, except instead of pasta, it’s your love life. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some hilarious stories to tell your future therapist!  (Please don't bill me for your therapy bill. I'm broke.) It’s scientifically programmed, which means it’s flawless. Trust me, I’m very smart. Sign up now, and may your love life finally flourish. If it doesn’t, well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Questions will be released tomorrow, so sign up today before you catch a serious case of FOMO when all the cool kids start using the app ;) Sincerely, your friendly Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung <3  *Disclaimer: The university, nor I, takes no responsibility for any romantic entanglements, awkward encounters, or sudden realizations that you might be better off single. Please use the MatchMatic 3000 responsibly.* 
You look up, trying to hold in your laughter, “Heeseung, what the hell is this?” 
Everyone around the table bursts into muffled giggles as they take in the sight of a 240fps gif of Heeseung’s head superimposed onto a sparkly cupid’s body, dramatically shooting an arrow into the abyss of their screens.
"It's called marketing, Y/N. You wouldn't understand,” Heeseung says unbothered. 
“You really called yourself campus cupid,” Grace manages to get out, laughing so hard she’s practically wheezing.
“I said what I said,” Heeseung replies, puffing out his chest like a self-proclaimed genius. “And it’s true. I am your cupid. My algorithm is perfect. You guys are just haters. Just wait until I go viral and become rich and famous. Jake, you support me, right?"
Jake, who hasn’t uttered a peep in maybe a century, suddenly finds himself put on the spot. Oh no, I’ve been radio silent. They probably think I’m plotting my grand escape or something.
You turn towards Jake, waiting for his response and with a smile on your face, which is enough to send him into a decade long coma he thinks. 
“Uh... yeah, for sure. Whatever it takes for that ramen, right?” he blurts out, awkwardly throwing in a finger gun for good measure.
Nailed it.
"Jakey here is too sweet to disagree with you, Hee, “ you look up at him, flashing him a soft, teasing smile. 
And that’s it. Jake’s soul exits stage left. 
He nearly chokes on his own saliva at the casual way you let the pet name roll off your tongue. It’s as if you’ve just handed him a ticket to a new dimension where 'Jakey' is a thing and he’s suddenly the happiest (and only) person on the planet.
Jakey, you called him Jakey. His mind takes an ad-break as he tries to recover. Is this…flirting? Is this how normal people flirt? Or are you just trying to send him into cardiac arrest for fun?
Either way, Jake’s officially malfunctioning. He deduces you’re just being your typical, outgoing self—completely oblivious to the heart palpitations your simple actions send to Jake’s heart. How can someone be so effortlessly charming yet unaware of the chaotic consequences? 
“Y-Yeah, totally, sorry man,” he croaks out, praying to all higher powers above that this brief interaction is over. Heeseung's love machine may be flawless, but Jake? He’s barely functional.
Jake stares at the floor, trying to process this entire ordeal, as the rest of the table returns to their everyday conversation. This is happening. This is real. He needs to find a way to get matched with you, or else he can kiss Salt and Pepper (two of the twelve cats he’s already mentally named and is now emotionally invested in) goodbye. He glances over at you, who’s already—bless your curiosity—downloading the app. 
Jake gulps. He’s doomed. 
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Today's the day. Jake’s internal doomsday. 
Also known as, MatchMatic-3000-launches-it's-questions-day. 
To the group's surprise, Heeseung’s love machine has gone viral across campus—it’s been the buzz of the school since his mass email blast 24 hours ago. 
“Alright gang, let’s see if this app is as magical as Heeseung’s ego claims!” you declare, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you join everyone at the usual lunch table outside.
Jake, sitting beside you, is staring at his phone like it holds the secrets of the universe. 
“I’m just hoping it matches me with someone who understands the sacred bond between a man and his video game console,” he mutters, sneakily glancing at your screen to see if you’re answering questions about your favorite video games. Because obviously, that’s the secret to his heart. 
You’re too engrossed in the questions on your phone to notice his subtle mission.
“Even better,” you say without looking up, “I hope it matches me with someone who’ll actually play video games with me.”
Then, you look up and throw him a quick wink. Casual. Effortless. But to Jake? It’s like being a victim of a hit and run to the heart. 
He’s definitely as red as his Asian Flush after two shots of soju. Maybe three.
Jay suddenly chimes in, “What if the app pairs us with people who have weird hobbies? Like, what if I get matched with someone who collects miniature spoons or lives in a house made entirely of cheese?” 
Grace snickers at the overly dramatic boy. “Jay, I think you’d thrive in a cheese house. You’ve already mastered the art of cheesy puns.”
Jake, still staring at his phone, suddenly gets an epiphany, “Wait, do you think it can match you with someone who’s just as obsessed with obscure internet memes as I am?”
You let out a giggle towards his direction, amused by his question, which makes Jake realize that he said that out loud. Well, if he made you laugh, that's a win in his book.
Heeseung, noticing Jake’s moment of glory, nods. 
“Oh, definitely. You might end up with someone who can appreciate a well-timed ‘Doge’ meme or has a shrine dedicated to Rickrolling."
“These questions are so random! A black cat or a golden retriever? What does that even mean?” you exclaim suddenly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 
“Excuse me, it’s all about the science of psychology, Y/N—” Heeseung stabs his fork into his pasta with an almost theatrical flair, “—the algorithm needs to understand your deepest preferences. It’s not about cats or dogs; it’s about what your choices say about your soul.”
Jay, munching on his questionable-looking dining hall taco, grins. “So, basically, the app’s trying to figure out if we’re more ‘moody cat person’ or ‘happy-go-lucky dog lover.’ Got it.”
Jake’s thumb hovers nervously over his screen as he reaches the same question himself. His eyes dart back to your screen but can’t seem to make out what you’ve selected. You’re biting your lip in concentration, and Jake’s brain glitches for a second because, wow, how can someone look so cute answering stupid personality questions?
Heeseung notices Jake’s expression from across the table and leans back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “Jake, you look like you’re solving world hunger over there. What’s the deal? Just pick whatever, man.” 
“I’m—I’m just being thorough, okay? This app’s gonna decide my entire love life. No pressure or anything,” Jake shifts uncomfortably, his face heating up.  
Jay snorts, stuffing yet another taco in his mouth, "Jake’s acting like the app’s about to determine the rest of his life. Just chill, man. You’ll get paired with someone. Even if it’s someone who only eats purple foods or, I don’t know, makes miniatures of their exes.” 
"Y/N's definitely getting paired with someone awesome," Grace teases, nudging you playfully from your other side. "Someone tall, athletic, probably knows how to cook gourmet meals."  
Jake internally winces at the description. Tall? He's definitely 6 feet...on a good day...with the right shoes. Athletic? Jake plays soccer! Well..played. In, like, middle school. Gourmet meals? He considers dino nuggets a gourmet meal so...he's practically a Michelin-star chef.  
You laugh at Grace's comment, shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm just hoping for someone who doesn't ghost me after three texts. Low bar, I know."  
Jake swallows besides you. Three texts. Got it. Don't ghost her, even if you do forget what words are in her presence.  
Suddenly, you look up from your phone and turn to lock eyes with Jake. "What did you put Jake? Black cat or golden retriever?"  
Jake freezes. Oh no, is this a test? This is definitely a test. He panics for a split second while his brain scrambles for the lobe that contains actual, cohesive, vocabulary.
"Uh, golden retriever. Definitely," he blurts out, voice higher than usual. "Golden retrievers are...loyal. And fun. Kinda like...you?" The last part slips out before he can stop himself.  
The table goes silent. Jay chokes on his suspicious taco. Grace's eyebrows shoot up in amusement. Heeseung stares at Jake like he's watching the most entertaining drama unfold right in front of him. 
You blink at Jake, then follow it with a soft giggle. "You're comparing me to a dog now?"  
Jake goes bright red, stammering as he's viciously shaking his head, "No—I mean—not like that! I just meant—"  
But you're still laughing next to him, he can feel your shoulders happily shaking against his, and while he's completely mortified, he can't help but feel the tiniest flicker of hope. At least you're laughing with him, not at him. Right? Right?  
"Did anyone consider the fact that we might get matched up with one another?" Jay changes the topic as he wipes the remaining taco shell crumbs off his mouth.
Jake notices the look of pure horror plastered on both you and Grace's faces.  
"Ew," you pretend to gag, while Grace laughs next to you. "Hard pass. You've got the same level of commitment as a first grader has with finishing their homework, and Heeseung’s definitely gonna end up marrying a computer. Plankton and Karen style. I think I'd rather date a Roomba. And you know I hate Roombas."  
Jake can't help the smile tugging at his lips. He knows you're joking, but hearing you rule out the other two makes him feel just a little better. But then...wait.  
You didn't say anything about Jake. What if you’ve already ruled Jake out, too? Not even a contender against Jay and Heeseung? The panic sets in as he thinks oh god, maybe she sees me like an actual Roomba—just following her around, waiting for crumbs of affection. 
Heeseung feigns hurt by dramatically clutching his heart. "Oh no. I'm so heartbroken," he deadpans.  
"I'd date you, Hee, don't worry," Jay winks, and without missing a beat, Heeseung blows him an exaggerated air kiss. "Thanks, babe." 
Jake, still lost in his thoughts, wonders if he’s been friend-zoned so hard he’s transcended into actual appliance territory, right next to the Roombas.
Everyone's laughing over Heeseung and Jay's antics, while Jake here is spiraling into a full-on existential crisis over accepting his fate as the Roomba of your heart. 
Is this my life now? I'm a...self-cleaning vacuum?
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Jake comes to a realization the next morning: he can’t just settle for being the human equivalent of a non-sentient vacuum in your life. He needs to take action—and he needs to do it fast. Especially before the algorithm matches you with some 6-foot-tall, athletic, five-star chef who probably wakes up with flawless skin and has a perfectly curated Spotify playlist.  
Jake’s brain scrambles for ideas, as he stares hopelessly at the blank essay document on his laptop titled: "History of Modern Warfare (with revisions)" His essay can wait. World War II may have been a big deal, but this? This is you. Only the most important thing to walk this earth (in Jake's eyes, at least).  
What would a normal human being do? Grow a pair, march right up to you, and say something charming (probably, Jake wouldn't know). But Jake? Jake knows there’s a higher chance of him learning to speak fluent French in the next 24 hours than actually telling you how he feels.
Because that would require practice—in front of a mirror, at least five times a day, for three days straight. And by then, the matches will already be out, and you'll be swept off your feet by some handsome demigod in human form.  
Jake sighs as he tries to type at least one sentence of his essay, hoping it will distract him from his lingering thoughts of you. Your smile, your laughter, your wink, your voice saying ‘Jakey’... 
“The Battle of Normandy marked a significant turning point…” 
Jake frowns. Turning point. Oh, great. That’s exactly what Jake’s waiting for—a turning point with you. Except his 'battle plan' is to let Heeseung’s love algorithm do the work for him. Yeah, sure. Because nothing says romantic courage like leaving your fate up to a glorified love machine. 
Jake groans at the screen. He tries to type more, but his brain is already spiraling into worst-case scenarios. What if you get matched with someone who can bench-press a refrigerator? Or worse—someone who actually knows how to emotionally open up to you?
Frustrated, Jake slams his laptop shut, earning dirty glares from the students studying quietly around him in the library. His essay is long forgotten at this point. Who cares about The Battle of Normandy when his entire (nonexistent) love life is crumbling right in front of him?  
He pulls at his hair in sheer desperation, searching for answers, any answers, to this disaster. Think, Jake, think! 
Wait. 
That's it.  
Answers. He needs answers! Not the kind that would magically fix his social dysfunction around you. No, not those—that’s way beyond saving.
But your answers. The ones you put into The Matchmatic 3000. If Jake could somehow get a hold of those, he could match his responses to yours perfectly. Then BAM! Instant match. One foot in the door. Then maybe, just maybe, you'd stop seeing him as some automated dust-sucker. 
A smile forms across Jake's face. Pure genius (self-proclaimed, of course).  
Yes, this is the solution to all his problems. Well, except for the crippling anxiety and social awkwardness part. But one thing at a time, right? 
Now he just needs your answers.  
And possibly a therapist.  
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“Jake! What's wrong?" Grace appears at Jake's table tucked away in the back of the library, her hair frazzled and disheveled from her sprint across campus as a result of Jake's ‘SOS’ text.
Jake is sitting at the table, hands folded, looking perfectly intact, totally not at all in an ‘SOS’ situation, and has a small smile on his face as he looks up at his best friend. 
“I figured it out!”
"You better tell me you just figured out time travel or the cure for world hunger, because I just full-on sprinted across campus thinking you got your laptop stolen or, heaven forbid, you got your hand trapped in the printer again,” Grace's eyes narrow as she takes a seat across from him. 
"I told you not to mention that again! It was an honest mistake," Jake's eyes widen, afraid people around them heard about Jake's embarrassingly tragic battle with the library’s printer. "But no, it's even better than that. It's kinda...off the books though."
Grace blinks back at him. "How off the books? Like...'help me hide the body' off the books, or 'expose the secret recipe to the dining hall's mysterious tacos' off the books?”
Jake glances around to make sure no one's eavesdropping, then lowers his voice, "More like...'help me get Y/N's answers to the Matchmatic 3000' off the books?"
There's a beat of silence as Grace struggles to process the absurdity of what she just heard.  
“Wait, hold up. You want me to help you cheat the dating app?”
Jake nods fervently, if not a little desperately. 
"It's not cheating! Call it...strategic alignment. I need to make sure I match with her. That's the only way I could ever get a chance, and you're the only one who can help me!"
Grace leans in from across the table, clearly in disbelief, yet amused, "So let me get this straight...you want me to somehow get her answers, so you can change yours to match hers, in hopes that Hee's magical AI or whatever pairs you two together?"
Jake attempts to give her his best 'please help me' puppy eyes, but it's clear he's more of a lost kitten right now.
"And you're asking me to get my hands dirty...why exactly?" She smirks at the fidgety Jake, finding his over-the-top desperation for you both amusing and oddly endearing.
"Uh..because you're my best friend, duh. And also, you're the closest to her—if Jay and Hee found out, they'd never let me live it down! And Jay would probably make a TikTok about it just to watch me die from embarrassment," Jake rambles, hoping he can convince the seemingly unimpressed girl in front of him.
“Uh-huh," Grace raises an eyebrow. "And what’s in it for me? Sure, I'm your best friend, but I'm also her friend and ever-so-loyal roommate. You're asking for a lot here, bud."
Jake looks flustered for a moment, as if he hadn’t really thought about that part. 
“Uh, well, I could—um—maybe buy you coffee for a week? Or, I don’t know, do your physics thesis project you've been avoiding."
Grace pretends to consider his offer for a second, but the second he mentions the ‘physics thesis project’, her decision is instantly made.
"Fine," she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "But just so you know, if this goes sideways, I was never here."
Jake smiles like he just won the lottery. Salt & Pepper, here I come!
"But also…," Grace begins, looking right at Jake, making him squirm. Not in a cute Y/N-noticed-me type of squirm, but the oh-no-I'm-about-to-get-lectured kind. "Take my advice, Jake. Stop being a wuss."
Jake's grin falters at his friend's sudden, but painfully true, words.
Grace leans in, her voice serious, "I mean, you can't just hide behind an app and hope for the best. If you really want a shot with Y/N, you need to actually, I don’t know, tell her your feelings? She's not some untouchable goddess who's going to smite you for shooting their shot." 
Jake winces. "But what if she's not interested? What if I make it weird? What if—"
"Jake," Grace's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "You won't know unless you try! And you're a great guy, but how would Y/N know that if you don't open yourself up more? Seriously, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh. Spontaneous combustion? If I look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds, I just might implode. Or, you know, cease to exist," Jake deadpans, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his impending doom.
Grace snorts at her poor, poor friend, clearly amused by his romantic spiral. "Okay, first, no one's ever died from eye contact, buddy. Second, I'm not saying you should storm out there and go ask for her hand in marriage or anything—please, don't do that. I'm just saying, just at least try talking to her more maybe.” Baby steps, Grace thinks, baby steps. 
Jake blinks. She's right. Of course she's right. He can’t let some algorithm control his entire love life, no matter how advanced or magical Heeseung claims it is.
Grace, seeing Jake's gears slowly turning, throws him a lifeline: “Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better, she may or may not have called you cute once. Better?"
Jake freezes. His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. Cute? You called him cute? All the oxygen leaves his lungs, and he’s pretty sure he’s about to pass out right here in the library. 
"Wait, what?"
"Don’t get too excited," Grace smirks, clearly enjoying watching Jake short-circuit. "She said it in passing. Once."
Jake, now on the verge of a mental breakdown, blurts out, "Like, ‘aw-that-puppy-is-cute’ cute? Or like, ‘he’s-so-cute-I-wanna-kiss-him’ cute? I need specifics, Grace!"
Grace’s grin widens, watching her friend spiral into oblivion. "Jake, you’re overthinking it again. Relax. Just take the win."
"Grace, please, I'm begging you. On a scale from 'puppy' to 'kiss', where do I stand?!" Jake's eyes are practically bugging out of his head at this point. 
Grace rolls her eyes, but her teasing smile doesn't falter. "If you keep freaking out like this, you’re gonna drop down to 'awkward goldfish' cute real quick." 
"I’m doomed,” Jake groans, burying his face in his hands. 
Grace pats his back with mock sympathy. "Yep. But at least she'll think you're cute while doing it."
Jake peeks at her through his fingers. “You think she meant 'kiss' cute?”
"Finish your plan first, lover boy. Then we’ll talk."
Jake can’t help the ridiculous smile growing on his face.
Kiss cute, he decides. It has to be. 
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You think if you have to read one more sentence about human anatomy, you might actually cry. You sigh as you close your textbook and push it aside to reside with the unnecessary amount of highlighters scattered on the café table between you and Grace.
"I hate this. I hate the circulatory system. Why do I even need to know what the ‘superior vena cava’ is," you groan as you take a sip of what's left of your watered down iced matcha.
Grace hums in front of you as her eyes continually scan the textbook, desperate to absorb just enough information to survive tomorrow's anatomy quiz.
"Because it keeps you alive, Y/N. Duh," Grace jokes as her eyes stay peeled to her textbook.
"Screw that," you scoff. "I don't need the circulatory system to keep me alive. I just need caffeine and BTS's entire discography pumped through my veins to live."
Grace finally glances up, giving you an amused side-eye at your usual dramatic flair, before she remembers she has an important mission at hand: 
Operation Jake & Y/N. 
Grace slams her textbook closed with a dramatic thud to show she's finished studying (she's not). 
"Sooo...speaking of circulatory systems and...hearts and...stuff—did you ever finish filling out the questions for Hee's love app thingy?"
You, oblivious to the sudden change in topic, shrug as you fish your straw around your plastic cup, hoping to find more drops of watery matcha to savor. 
"Yeah, I finished it the other day. It took me forever though. Like, why does it need to know if I'd rather have a personal trainer who can only teach me interpretive dance versus a personal chef who can only cook cereal? I swear Hee was on some drugs or something while creating those questions."
"Not drugs, probably an unhealthy amount of caffeine and ramen though," Grace snorts, still trying to play it cool.
"Caffeine is a drug, doofus," you say pointedly, right before you get a smack in the forehead by Grace's crumbled up straw wrapper.
"Whatever," Grace laughs. "Hey I'm curious—what did you put for your answers? Wanna compare? See how similar we are?" Grace's leg is bouncing under the table, trying to keep up the ‘smooth’ façade, hoping you won't find her sudden interest weird.
"Sure, why not?" you nonchalantly agree, not thinking twice about the random request.
Grace blinks in surprise. That was...way easier than expected. She was ready to prepare some elaborate excuse, like ‘I need your answers to match you up with my desperate best friend who's head over heels for you!’
Oh wait. That part is real. You get the gist.
"Unless...," you pause suddenly. Uh oh. "Unless you're going to sell my answers to some mad scientist and they try to make an evil clone of me to take over the world and end up framing me and I'll have to clear my name in a dramatic world-televised court trial."
Grace blinks, before rolling her eyes, as her nervous heartbeat returns to a normal rate. 
“You're so goddamn weird sometimes.” 
You beam at your friend, clearly amused at yourself, as you scroll through your answers and send screenshots to Grace without a second thought. "Sent! Oh, and send me yours—I wanna know what you put for 'Stuck in a room with Shrek for 24 hours' versus 'Fight 100 duck-sized horses.'"
“Oh, vibe with Shrek, 100%,” Grace answers without skipping a beat, earning an agreeing high five from you.
Grace is ecstatic. This was so much easier than she thought. Not only does this mean her desperate best friend will finally get his shot with you (which also means she won’t have to hear his dramatic overthinking questions about whether you sharing a sandwich with him was a cosmic sign or just a sandwich), but it also guarantees her a week of free coffee and an A+ in physics for this semester.
She quickly types out a quick message to Jake as you're still distracted by your now near empty matcha cup:
Grace [1:26PM]: "mission accomplished. prepare for epic matchmaking success and a lifetime supply of guilt-free caffeine. for me, ofc"
Grace leans back in satisfaction, practically tasting the sweet (and caffeinated) taste of victory. She's done her end of Mission Impossible, and now it's up to Jake to do...well, whatever Jake does in these situations.
Her phone buzzes with a reply from Jake:
Jake [1:28PM]: THANK YOU!!! also...not a lifetime supply...just a week. don't get it twisted"
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"Look, all I'm saying is," you declare, leaning back on the couch, "if all five of us pitch in, we could most definitely rob a bank." 
What had started as a group study session two hours ago in your and Grace's apartment has, as usual, turned into your friend group's typical day of hanging out: wildly imagining scenarios so far removed from reality that there’s absolutely no chance you’d end up in them—but entertaining the idea anyway, because what else are you going to do when you're supposed to be studying?
Grace snickers from beside you, "Yeah, and with your stealth skills, we'd get caught in about three business seconds. You literally screamed when I dropped that piece of paper yesterday."
"It startled me! Gravity's such a scary concept, okay?" You huff, arms crossed. Jake, sitting on your other side, fights back the slight grin growing on his face as he watches you scrunch your face in that way he secretly finds unfairly cute, even if it is over your fear of inanimate objects. So weirdly adorable.
Heeseung, sitting cross-legged on the floor from across the couch, raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, do you even know how banks work?”
“She’s got the spirit. I’d give her a solid 7/10 for enthusiasm. Execution, though? Negative two,” Jay says as crosses his arms with a grin from beside Heeseung. 
You grab and throw a couch pillow at him, which he dodges with ease, sticking out his tongue. Jake instinctively shifts closer to you, to your oblivion, like he’s ready to shield you from any incoming retaliation missiles.
“What, and you’d be the brains of the operation? Mr. ‘I forgot my own phone password for two days?’” You fire back.
Jay shrugs, unfazed, “Hey, no need to bring up the past. We all make mistakes.”
“Yeah,” Jake finally chimes in, hoping you will notice how smooth he sounds, “but not all of us text our own phone ‘Why won’t you let me in?’ while the password is literally ‘1234.’”
Everyone laughs, except Jay, who gasps and points dramatically at Jake, “Betrayal. How dare you?”
“It’s public knowledge, bro. You told everyone,” Jake raises his hands in defense, but his eyes keep flickering back to you, wondering if your sweet laughter is because of him this time. And call him delusional, but he really thinks it is. You throw your head back from laughing so hard, at some point your hand graces Jake’s knee next to yours to stabilize yourself. 
It’s no secret—well, at least not to Grace—that Jake’s newfound confidence around you is all thanks to that one tiny lifeline Grace threw him: you called him cute once. Just once. And now, Jake’s running with it, holding on for dear life, and convincing himself that maybe, just maybe, you think about him the same way he thinks about you. Maybe. 
“I told you all in confidence! That was a moment of weakness!” Jay crosses his arms, looking like a child who just got scolded at. “I trusted you people.”
Grace, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the coffee table, pouts at Jay, “And that, my friend, was your first mistake.” 
“Et tu, Grace?” Jay gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally victimized by the betrayal of his closest friends. Well…he was. 
Heeseung, shaking his head, cuts in, “Okay, but if we’re robbing a bank, I’m in charge. I’m the only one here with any common sense.” 
You frown, “What do you mean? I have common sense! I brushed my teeth today and everything!”
Jake watches you with a soft smile, finding even your exaggerated outrage so weirdly adorable.
Grace bursts out laughing, “Y/N, sweetie, that’s basic hygiene, not common sense. But good job. We’re all proud of you.”
Jake, clearly riding his boost of confidence from earning that one (1) laugh from you, decides to add in and nods, looking completely serious, “Honestly, I think we should celebrate that. Maybe get you a gold sticker or something.” 
“You guys are bullies,” you mutter, sinking into the couch, but you're laughing too. Jake tries to hide how melted he feels when you laugh like that—all bright and simply, you.
“It's nothing personal, Y/N,” Heeseung adds, smirking, "but you can't easily get startled by inanimate objects and claim you have common sense."
Jay snickers, pointing at you, “Remember that time you thought the vacuum was attacking you?”
You shoot him a glare, debating on throwing yet another couch pillow at him, “It moved on its own, okay? That’s suspicious.”
"The Roomba was doing its job. You nearly declared war on the thing," Grace, mouth full of popcorn, can't defend you on this one.
Jake, on the other hand, feels compelled to defend you, even if he knows it’s ridiculous. You know, since he could relate to the whole impending-mental-doom-by-a-Roomba thing, "The Roomba was being weird that day.”
Jay side-eyes Jake, “Oh, so now you’re on Team Roomba Conspiracy? That’s rich.”
That is rich, considering Jake nearly signed up for therapy just days ago after having an existential crisis about being recruited to join your arch-nemesis—Roombas. Now here he was, ready to go to battle for your anti-automated-dust-sucker stance.
Jake shrugs, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly hyper-aware of your attention on him, “I just think we shouldn’t dismiss Y/N’s concerns so quickly.”
You turn to him with the softest smile he's seen in the history of smiles—one that fully knocks the breath right out of him. 
“Aw thank you, Jake! Someone around here finally gets it,” you momentarily rest your head on his shoulder for two fleeting seconds—short enough to show your appreciation but long enough to utterly dismantle the boy’s composure. 
He’s frozen. Brain empty, no thoughts…except for the scent of your shampoo rushing his senses. He’s not sure if he’s about to pass out or propose.
“Simp,” Jay mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Jake to hear. Jake shoots him a warning look, making Jay’s smirk grow wider. 
Grace, still giggling at the memory of you running away from a Roomba, then turns to Heeseung with a curious grin, "Speaking of concerns, how's the app going? When are we gonna find out who's paired with who?"
Heeseung immediately groans, frustratingly running a hand through his hair, "It's...going, alright. Some people are weird, man. I don't even know how to process some of these answers."
"Really? How so?" You perk up at this, interested. 
Heeseung sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, look at this—someone put 'ramen' as an answer for what they're looking for in a partner."
Jay snorts, "Sounds like something you’d put, honestly. You should match yourself up with them!"
"And this person," Heeseung continues, scrolling and displaying his phone to the rest of the group, "just answered 'vibes' to every single question. Every. One. What does that even mean?!"
Everyone shrugs around the coffee table in confusion as the exasperated boy dramatically tosses his phone to the side like it personally offended him.
"Anyways. I should be done tonight, so hopefully the matches get released tomorrow," he reveals, to everyone's excitement.
"Ohmygosh, tomorrow?" Grace claps her hands lightly. "I can't wait, I hope I get paired with someone who, like, is secretly Spiderman or something. You know, someone with substance."
"I'm nervous, what if I get a total weirdo?" You mutter, eyes widening at the thought.
Jake thinks to himself: as long as he gets paired with you, he doesn't mind being a total weirdo. He'll be your total weirdo. He'll dye his hair neon rainbow, start collecting Russian nesting dolls, and live in a treehouse if that's what it takes.
"Y/N," Jay speaks up, cocking his head out from the bag of potato chips he's currently annihilating, "if anything, you're gonna be the weird one in whatever relationship you end up in."
You instinctively reach for another pillow to throw at him, but Jake is faster, shielding his arms around you, "Okay, okay, let's be nice. I'm sure Y/N will end up with someone perfectly normal, and anyone who ends up with Y/N will not find her weird at all." 
That's because Jake better be the one that ends up with you. And he definitely doesn't think you're weird. Well maybe a little. In an endearing way.
And hopefully, in your eyes, he's normal. Or not—it's all the same to him, as long as he's the one by your side. 
All the steps are set in stone. Now, he just needs the algorithm to do its thing and simply match you two together—which is bound to happen, given Jake is practically a Y/N 2.0 after copying all your answers. If this doesn't work, then the universe is officially out to get him. 
Yes. Everything will happen according to plan.
It has to.  
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Nothing goes according to plan.  
Jake's eyes dart in panic between Grace's look of confusion and your phone screen, currently displaying to the rest of the lunch table your so-called soulmate's name, which, surprise surprise—it's not Jake.
Instead, it reads:  
Match: Park Sunghoon 
You shrug as you glance up from your phone, completely unaware of the Tom and Jerry hole Jake is crawling back down right now, "I think he's that new transfer student. I've seen him around in my psychology class, he's kinda cute!"  
Jake's heart sinks deeper than he thought was humanly possible. Cute? Like 'puppy' cute or 'kiss' cute? Oh god, his worst nightmare is coming true. He's about to be banished back to the sad category of 'automated vacuums' in your heart, left to raise 12 kittens on his own.  
Jay frowns, crossing his arm, "No fair, I haven't gotten my match yet, and Y/N gets the cute new kid? This is rigged."  
Heeseung smirks, leaning back in his chair like some algorithm god, "Patience, child. The results are rolling out throughout the entire day. I added that feature for the 'element of surprise.'" 
Grace, meanwhile, subtly leans towards Jake while everyone else rambles over your match, "Looks like the universe hates you."  
"I can't believe it didn't work. It doesn't make any sense, it has to be broken or something,” Jake says, visibly upset, trying his very best to not dig himself a grave right then and there in the middle of the university's quad.  
Grace shrugs, feeling confusion on behalf of her best friend as well, "At least you can say you tried. Maybe the universe is trying to hint at you to actually talk to her and get into a relationship the normal, organic way."  
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles. But Jake is too perplexed to listen to Grace's—very, very, valid—logic right now. 
Jake's thoughts spiral faster than a malfunctioning Roomba trapped in a corner, repeatedly slamming into the same wall with no hope of escape. Honestly, Jake wishes there was a wall around him right now to repeatedly slam his head into. Maybe that way the delulu in him—the one that convinced him he could hack his way into your heart—can finally escape his brain.  
His brain is short-circuiting in panic, bouncing between the reality of his failure and the absolute tragedy that Sunghoon—the cute transfer student (you probably think he's kiss-cute too) is about to waltz in and steal his entire future. Jake can already picture Sunghoon effortlessly holding all twelve hypothetical kittens, while Jake is left alone with nothing but his shattered dreams. 
Before Jake can imagine another over dramatic scenario in his head of you and Sunghoon that would make him physically rip out his own heart and stomp all over it, Grace's phone suddenly pings.
"You've got to be kidding me."  
Everyone turns to look at her, as Grace glances up from her phone, the look of pure horror on her face.  
Grace slowly turns her phone around for everyone to see, and there, in bold letters, sits:
Match: Park Jongseong  
A beat of silence (or as Grace would call it, moment of silence for the fallen. The fallen being Grace), then... 
“HA!” Jay cackles, pointing at her. “Sucks to be you.” 
"Oh, you think this is funny, Park?" Grace glares at him, and at everyone else for giggling at the absurd match. "I would literally rather match with my chemistry TA who wears socks with sandals."  
Heeseung perks up, clearly overly amused at the match drama ensuing around the table, "Wait, that chem TA's not that bad lowkey..."  
Grace throws him a look, "Hee, this isn't about Steve the TA! This is about my life being ruined in real time!"  
Jake tunes in and scoffs, so shocked at his friend's statement, he forgot the setting they're all in, "Your life being ruined? What about mine?"  
Jake quickly silences himself after he realizes what he just said..and in front of you. 
"What about your life getting ruined, Jake? Did you get your match yet?" You look up at him from across the table, curious who could possibly have Jake in such shambles (Ironic, isn't it?). 
"Err—no, not yet. What I mean is..uhh," Jake stammers, his remaining brain cells (which isn't many at this point) trying to muster up the best lie they could to cover himself. "My life would totally be ruined if Grace and Jay end up together because...uhh..because I'd totally have to third-wheel them all the time!"  
Yes, that's good Jake. Good job, good job.  
You seem to be convinced enough by the excuse, your eyes suddenly widening in fear.
"Oh god, you're so right! This means Jay's gonna be over at our apartment all the time now. He'll probably never leave,” you visibly shudder.
Grace gestures wildly at the entire table in disbelief, "You guys! What in the world makes you think Jay and I are going to end up together just because some love algorithm thinks we're good for each other? No offense, Hee."  
Jay, on the other hand, reclines back in his chair, looking entirely too smug for someone who just got called out as a last-choice match, "Hey, the algorithm knows what's up. Maybe this is fate, Grace. This could be fun." He points between the two of them, as if sealing a deal.  
"Fun?! Wrestling a bear made entirely of thorns sounds more fun," Grace physically recoils, like she just touched something soggy in the sink's drain, her expression sending the whole table into laughter. 
"Honestly, I see it. Can't fight the science," you speak up, throwing a knowing look at Grace before Jay gives you an appreciative high-five from across the table.  
Grace snaps her head towards you and gasps, "Traitor! How dare you—you better sleep with your door locked tonight or I swear—"  
"ALL I'm saying is—" you raise your hands in defense, interjecting before Grace can vow to eliminate you and your future lineage from the face of this planet, "—I think it’s kind of sweet you matched with someone you actually know, you know? I mean, I wish I got paired with a close friend. I’ve always believed in the friend-to-significant-other pipeline." 
Friend to significant other? Jake's internal monologue screeches to a halt. Y/N, I'm right here! I could be the one, not Sunghoon! That could be us!
Then, as if you could read his thoughts, your gaze meets Jake’s for just a beat too long, lingering in that space where words usually get lost. Jake swears your expression softens for half a second before you casually shift your focus back on Grace. His brain is officially overheating. Was that a hint? Was it? 
Oh my god. She’s totally hinting at me.
Or—no, wait. Maybe he's reading into it again. Maybe he's so deep into this 'delulu' life that now every sentence feels like it's tailor-made just for him. 
Yeah, that has to be it. Definitely the latter, right? Right. 
Heeseung perks up from his seat, pointing at Grace, "See? She's right. Trust the science. And the friendship! But mostly the science. Science doesn’t mess up, man. It must've sensed some... undercurrents between you and Jay." 
Grace looks like she’s about to leap across the table and strangle Heeseung with his own hoodie strings, but Jay interrupts with a wide grin. 
"Yeah, undercurrents, Gracey-poo. We’re destined." 
You lose it, breaking into uncontrollable laughter as Grace pretends to dry heave at the sound of the pet name. 
"And just like that," she says, dramatically standing up from her seat, "I think that’s my cue to leave. If I hear Jay call me ‘Gracey-poo’ again, I’m going to bleach my ears." 
The entire table is still laughing while Grace makes her swift escape to her next class. You finally manage to catch your breath, turning to Jake with a small smile (which also casually happens to send his brain into overdrive. No big deal, really). 
"I'm excited to see who you get paired with, Jake! I bet she's amazing."  
Jake feels his heart sink a little, but he forces a casual smile. No one is as amazing as you though (cheesy, but painfully true).
Trying to cover his disappointment, Jake shrugs, "I don’t know... I’m not really that into this whole matchmaking thing anyway." He leans back, feigning nonchalance. "I don’t think I’ll actually do anything with whoever I get matched with." 
Jake can’t tell if the small breath you let out is in relief or if, once again, he’s feeding his delusional part of his brain that’s been working overtime. 
But before he can overthink it, you raise an eyebrow, teasing him, "What? You’re not even curious? What if it’s someone perfect for you?" 
Jake laughs awkwardly, desperately trying to keep his cool. It would be perfect if it was you. But instead, he blurts out, "Yeah, maybe they’ll match me with my future laundry partner. Who knows?" Laundry? Really, Jake? 
"That would be a miracle," Heeseung looks up from his phone, gesturing towards Jake, "this guy never does his laundry."  
Jake shoots him a sharp look, "Not true! I just need...some motivation.." 
"Motivation from your future girlfriend?" Jay chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "That's gotta be a new low, dude."  
You nudge Jake's arm from across the table, grinning, "Hey, maybe the algorithm’s just that good. It knows you need a laundry-loving girlfriend in your life." 
Jake snorts, playing along, but his thoughts are a mess. Laundry-loving girlfriend? Nah, Jake needs you as his girlfriend—no question about it.
As you turn your attention back to your phone, the smile fades from Jake’s face, just for a second. His eyes linger on you longer than he means to, before he leans his head on his hand, pretending to care about whatever random TikTok Heeseung is showing him right now.  
But the video’s a blur. All Jake can focus on is how wrong everything feels. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be his match. You are his match. He knows it.  
Forget laundry-doing-girlfriends or algorithm-approved pairings. If the app really knew what Jake needed, it would’ve led him straight to you. 
And honestly, Jake’s pretty sure he’s smarter than the sleep-deprived, ramen-fueled algorithm Heeseung cooked up. So yeah, screw the love machine. 
If the app won’t do it for him, then it’s time he takes matters into his own hands. 
(About time.)
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“Please please please pleeeeease!” Jake’s trailing behind Heeseung throughout their shared living room like a toddler whose candy got snatched, but way more desperate.
Yeah, uh, this is Jake's idea of taking matters into his own hands.  
This is officially the billionth time Heeseung’s heard this in the past 24 hours. At least this time Jake managed to wait until Heeseung was out of the shower and fully clothed before launching into his regularly programmed meltdown. Progress, right? 
“Jake! You do realize what you’re asking me, right? You sound insane.” Heeseung's patience is thinner than the cup ramen noodles he’s survived on for the past week. He takes a seat on their couch, before pointedly looking at his desperate roommate. “You’re being ridiculously dramatic.” 
Jake scoffs, like the mature adult he is. “YOUR FACE is being ridiculously dramatic.” Yup. Like the mature adult he is.  
Heeseung came out to the living room in hopes of being able to catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor, but to no avail, as the younger boy was waiting to catch him all day (not that Heeseung was actively avoiding Jake or anything, no definitely not). But instead of screaming at the TV in frustration at the bachelor's terrible decisions, here he was, staring at Jake, silently contemplating how many years in prison throwing him off their apartment's balcony would cost him. 
Three? Maybe four? Would it be worth it? Possibly. 
“All you gotta do,” Jake begins to launch his TED Talk, “is send out a mass email to all your participants and be like, ‘Oh noooo, the AI or robot or magical unicorn or whatever messed up!’ Then you just re-release the answers, but this time, pair me with Y/N, bada-bing bada-boom. Easy peasy.” 
Heeseung stares blankly. Honestly, prison doesn’t sound that bad. 
“First off, it’s not a robot. It’s an algorithm,” Heeseung says for the seventy-millionth time, contemplating launching his side career as a 'broken record'. “Second, if people found out it ‘messed up,’ my reputation would be in shambles. Can you imagine all the couples who met their match, only to find out it was a giant, steaming load of—” 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jake waves him off, deploying his best attempt (key word: attempt) at puppy-dog eyes. “But what about my soulmate?” 
Heeseung groans and rubs his temples, “Jake, if she’s really your soulmate, maybe try telling her how you feel like a normal human being instead of begging me to rewrite reality?” 
Jake pauses, then, in true Jake fashion, says: “Yeah, but like...nah.” 
Heeseung looks at Jake, who is now staring at him with the intensity of someone waiting for a miracle, “You really don’t see how unhinged this sounds, do you?” 
Jake blinks. 
“I mean, yeah, but, like, what if it works? I’m just saying, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Wayne Gretzky said that.” 
Heeseung rolls his eyes so hard he’s pretty sure he saw his past life flash by, “Did Wayne Gretzky also say, ‘Be a total weirdo and bother your friend to break all ethical codes and rig an algorithm because you’re too chicken to tell a girl you like her?’” 
Jake shrugs. “He might’ve. We don’t know his whole catalog of wisdom.” 
“I’m begging you—just talk to her. Or, I dunno, send her a meme on Instagram or something. Do anything other than harass me. Please.” 
Jake's face scrunches up like Heeseung just suggested he swim with sharks. “A meme? Really? Do I look like some kind of loser who communicates through memes? I’ll have you know I’m a very mature adu—” 
SMACK! 
A flying sock lands squarely on Jake’s head. He blinks, confused, as Jay strolls in from his room and plops next to Heeseung, looking way too pleased with himself, “Dude, you’re begging like a guy who just got ghosted by an ATM. Have some dignity.” 
“You’re not helping,” Jake glares, throwing the sock back at Jay. 
Jay, with the wisdom only a seasoned disaster like him can possess, shrugs, “Honestly, Heeseung, just rerun the thing. I’m pretty sure the universe would implode if this dude doesn’t get matched with Y/N. And frankly, I don’t want to deal with that level of cosmic drama.” 
“Jay, not you too,” Heeseung pinches the bridge of his nose as he realizes he needs to find a new spot to watch his show from now on. 
Jay raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you. If Jake doesn’t get his way, he’ll never shut up. You’re one day away from him showing up at your room's door with a PowerPoint presentation. Think of your sanity. Plus, we all live together which means I have to see the presentation too. Think of my sanity.” 
“PowerPoint, huh? I could probably whip something up. Maybe add some pie charts and bar graphs,” Jake, clearly inspired, mutters to himself.  
Heeseung stares at the ceiling, wondering if this is his villain origin story (it most definitely is). “There’s absolutely no way I’m risking the integrity of my algorithm just because you can’t grow a backbone.”
Jake’s face falls, but Jay’s wheels are already turning on behalf of his friend, Mr. Simp, “Hold up, hold up. Hee, think about it. There’s gotta be something you want. I mean, everyone’s got a price, right?” 
Heeseung raises an eyebrow, still annoyed, yet intrigued. What? A good deal is a good deal.
“And what exactly do you think I want, Jay?” 
Jay flashes a grin that screams mischief. 
“We know you’ve been grinding on this algorithm for weeks, man. Barely sleeping. Barely eating,” Jay narrows his eyes in dramatic fashion, as though he’s about to uncover a deep secret. “You’re like two ramen packets away from full-on malnutrition. Sad really.” 
“Yeah, bro. We care about you. You need... balance. Maybe a reward for all your hard work?” Jake suddenly adds, nodding vigorously, picking up on Jay's scheming. 
Heeseung stares at them blankly, “Are you bribing me with...food?” 
“Not just any food,” Jake adds, gesturing dramatically. “Free food. Unlimited food from anywhere, for a month. On me. You’ll never have to eat those mystery meat tacos from the dining hall ever again.” 
Jay interjects, pointing at Jake, "Hey, I'll have you know, those tacos are actually quite good! You just have to deal with the initial frequent toilet trips when you first try them..." 
Heeseung’s resolve flickers for a moment. His stomach growls at the mere thought of having actual, edible food (for free!) that isn’t microwavable...or whatever they put in those tacos. 
Jake, sensing weakness, presses on, “AND… AND! I’ll do all your laundry. One month. No questions asked. I’ll even iron your shirts.” 
Jay, impressed by Jake's bargaining methods, nods his head along as if to convince the skeptical Heeseung, hoping to save himself from also having to hear Jake's consistent whining around the apartment any longer.  
Heeseung narrows his eyes. “I don’t iron my shirts.” 
“I’ll iron them anyway. Luxury service.” 
A pause. Heeseung’s brain is doing some serious mental gymnastics. On one hand, his precious algorithm. On the other… food that didn’t come from a vending machine and clean clothes that weren’t dug out of his laundry basket which is somewhere in the abyss that is his closet right now. 
Jay nudges him, whispering like he's the devil on Heeseung's left shoulder, “Think about it, man. What’s more important? Some random algorithm, or free pizza from that one place around the corner every day?” 
“I swear, if this comes back to bite me..,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples but already thinking about the mouth-watering cheesy goodness he could be having every day.
“So, you’ll do it?!” Jake’s eyes suddenly light up with hope, reflecting the picture-perfect image of a golden retriever right now. 
“Fine,” Heeseung glares at him, feeling the last of his integrity slip away. “But if anyone asks, you never heard this from me. And I expect my meals hot and my laundry folded.”
Jake gleams and practically starts bouncing off their living room's walls. “Yes! Yes! You won’t regret this! I mean, you probably will, but thank you!” 
Heeseung shakes his head, regretting every life choice that led to this moment. Jay claps him on the back. “See? Was that so hard? Now you can live like a king for a whole month. I’d call that a win.” 
“A king with a crumbling empire,” Heeseung sighs.  
“Y/N, here I come!” Jake’s already halfway out their apartment's front door, with no destination in sight—just overjoyed with excitement that he feels he could run ten laps around campus right now (plot twist: he doesn't—he ends up running down the stairs just to get winded and comes right back up to the apartment). 
As Jake sprints off, Heeseung groans, “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?” 
"Nah," Jay shrugs, already opening his phone. "Probably.” 
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Heeseung realizes he, indeed, made a terrible mistake when he looks up from his phone at lunch the next day and sees a particular you, storming up to the table.
Once you reach the table, you thrust your phone into his face, the ‘rematch’ email, that Heeseung had sent out only a few minutes ago, on display:  
Subject [SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT] : MatchMatic 3000 Oopsie Alert  Hello there, awesome students & fellow singletons,  Sooo...this is awkward. Despite weeks of blood, sweat, and ramen going into the creation of the Matchmatic 3000, it appears that a tiny part of the code had a full-on meltdown 🤖💔  As a result, some of the matches you received earlier this week were... well... not exactly what the love gods (or the code) intended. But hey, don’t panic! Not everyone’s match was wrong, just a small handful (I swear, please don’t come for me!).   I truly apologize for the mix-up, and I’m already back at my desk (and caffeine-mixed-with-ramen-fueled) fixing it.  The correct matches will be sent out ASAP—right after I double, triple, and quadruple check that this algorithm doesn’t throw another tantrum.  Thanks for your patience, and please don’t hunt me down! 🙏 I promise I’ll do better next time... or, at the very least, make sure the matches don’t require emergency therapy sessions.  Your (struggling) Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung,   Creator of the Slightly Dysfunctional Love Algorithm™ 💘 
”What happened to ‘Oh, the science is never wrong! I’m very smart, trust me, I’m King Romantic Algorithm!’” You mock in your best Heeseung impression, earning amused looks from everyone around the table—well, everyone except Heeseung. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Heeseung groans, holding up his hands defensively. Heeseung still can’t believe he’s apologizing for absolutely no reason, except for the looming fact that his hopelessly-in-love-with-you roommate is making him. “I swear, it must’ve been all the sleep deprivation. Maybe the algorithm glitched somewhere between my tenth cup of ramen and a power nap.” 
Heeseung shoots a knowing side glance towards Jake without anyone noticing, and Jake looks anywhere but at the older boy, avoiding eye contact at all costs.  
Jay raises an eyebrow as he chews on his sandwich, “Honestly, I’m not mad about it. I was still holding out hope for that cute boba barista.” 
“Excuse me?” Grace smacks Jay’s arm without hesitation from beside him. “What’s wrong with being matched with me?” 
Jay blinks at her in disbelief. 
“You literally said you’d rather wrestle a bear made of thorns than go out with me.” 
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want to go out with me,” Grace mutters, crossing her arms as Jay chuckles and nudges her back. 
“I don’t have time for your boba barista fantasies, Jay,” you grumble, feeling clearly annoyed over the rematch debacle.
Jake, sitting across from you, has been…well characteristically quiet, probably because he’s still trying to figure out how to comfort you without feeling a pang of guilt for being the reason you’re frustrated. But he gives it a shot anyway, turning to you with a cautious, almost-too-casual smile.  
“Are you really that upset over the rematch, Y/N?” His voice gentle, almost laced with concern, you would think. 
You glance up at him, instantly feeling less annoyed…for some reason. Jake’s always had this weird ability to calm you down without even trying. Maybe it was just his soft and steady demeanor that made you feel the need to match his. You take a deep breath, smoothing out the sharp edges of your mood before you speak.  
“It’s not that I was desperate to be with Sunghoon,” you start, your voice softer now. “I don’t know…I guess it was just kinda exciting and meeting someone new is always fun, you know? I think I’ve just been wanting something new or different in my life.”  
You trail off, and when you meet Jake's eyes again, you catch the way he's nodding along, completely absorbed in what you're saying. His attentiveness is cute, it makes something flutter in your chest—an unfamiliar warmth. You, a little curious, let the feeling linger, before quickly brushing it aside. 
But Jake? He feels that warmth too, though for him, it’s coupled with a twinge of jealousy. He's bothered. The thought of you seeking something ‘new’ with someone else twists in his chest, but he hides it with a smile, determined not to let you see how much it bothers him. 
“Well,” Jake begins, voice light but with a subtle undertone of something more you pick up on and you wonder what it is. “Maybe it’s a good thing. The rematch, I mean. It’s like a second chance. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe Sunghoon’s secretly a serial heartbreaker…or into collecting voodoo dolls or something.” 
You laugh, his humor breaking through any of your remaining frustration, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 
“You sound awfully optimistic about this,” you tease, trying to figure out if there’s something more to his words. Was there? Probably not, you deduce. Definitely not.  
Jake’s heart stutters, wondering if he's been caught red-handed. He fights the urge to panic and instead flashes you a cheesy grin and that somehow makes your stomach flip, though you can't exactly figure out why. 
“Just saying, it could be a blessing in disguise,” he shrugs, his tone playful but sincere. “Maybe this time, it’ll match you with someone who’s right in front of you.” 
Your breath catches as you take in his words quite literally. He’s just speaking metaphorically, right? But when your eyes meet again, there’s something in the way he looks at you—something that makes your heart skip a beat.  
For a moment, you don't know why, but you feel vulnerable in front of Jake. Jake, of all people. He’s always been sweet, always been there, but right now, the way he’s looking at you feels different. Maybe it's the way he's talking to you like you two are the only people at the table, like everything you're saying is heard and understood, and you feel seen amidst all the chaos. Like he’s seeing you in a way you’ve never quite noticed before. And it sends warmth radiating through you, mixing with the confusion already swirling in your chest. 
You blink and shake your head, you're overthinking. Jake is just being Jake—kind, supportive, and always ready to listen. That's just who he is. That's all.  
So why can you still feel his lingering gaze on you even as the conversation moves on? And why does it make you feel...something? Shy? Nervous? Excited? Maybe all of the above.  
Grace suddenly claps her hands together, breaking you out of your confusion, “Well, I think this whole rematch thing is the universe giving me a shot at a real love story,” she announces dramatically.  
“Right, because nothing says ‘romance’ like a computer’s ruling,” Jay rolls his eyes.  
Grace glares at him, “Maybe it’ll match me with someone who’s not emotionally unavailable for once.” 
You laugh at your friends' banter, but your thoughts are still stuck on Jake's words, and all you can think about is the possibility of getting paired with Jake. You feel a fluttering sensation at that thought, and as if you were afraid he could read your mind, you try to sneak a glance at him, only to catch him looking at you at the exact same moment. His eyes quickly dart away, making the interaction short enough to avoid any awkwardness but still long enough for you to catch the same gentle, almost longing expression, on his soft features.  
Your heart skips. 
Feeling exposed, you clear your throat, trying to break the silent tension you’re sure only you’re feeling. 
“Anyway,” you say, forcing a smile, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” 
Your friends all nod and murmur in agreement at your statement, but your heart lingers on Jake. You can't help but glance back at him, your mind refusing to shake this unfamiliar feeling of...something—maybe the slightest flicker of hope—that you match with him. 
And maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't mind that at all.  
And for Jake, well, there’s only one version of ‘everything working out at the end,’ and it's simple, really—it's you. And for him, that’s the only ending that matters. 
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Maybe Jake bit off a little more than he could chew this time. 
Sure, we’ve established that Jake’s inner simp—Jake Simp—is willing to do just about anything to end up with you. Training for a triathlon? Done. Cat-sitting twelve cats? He’d do it, no questions asked. So, naturally, promising Grace a week’s worth of iced coffee deliveries, finishing her physics poster, funding Heeseung’s meals and doing all his laundry for a month didn’t seem that bad in comparison. 
That was, until now—when he's speed-walking across campus, juggling an iced matcha latte (with two pumps of chai, because of course), a dry-cleaning bag with freshly ironed clothes, and a trifold poster board tucked precariously under his armpit, praying the drink doesn’t melt before he gets it to Grace.
Jake hastily rounds the corner by the library, barely keeping his balance when— 
Smack. 
Jake runs straight into someone, thankfully only sacrificing a few drops of the matcha as he stumbles, trying to keep everything from falling out of his grasp.
"Woah! Easy," an oddly familiar voice says, and when Jake looks up, he's met with your adorably amused expression. Of course it's you.
“Y/N!” Jake nearly chokes on his words, trying to steady himself. “I—uh, didn’t see you there.”
You laugh softly, your eyes flicking over everything in Jake's hold. 
"Is that a...physics project? I thought you took that class last year." 
Jake stalls, trying to recollect himself and somehow explain why he's running around campus with a trifold poster, (at this point, half-melted) iced matcha, and someone's else's dry cleaning, all over trying to end up with you. Because, yeah, there's really no way to explain that. But then...wait.
"I did take it last semester," he says, eyebrows raised. "You remember that?"
Now you're the one seemingly flustered, as if you're the one that just ran into their crush, sweating beads over running a million of chores. 
You think your face is as red as a beet right now, well, at least it feels like it. 
"Uh—yeah, I guess I did," you give a sheepish smile, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and Jake thinks he's about to faint from lightheadedness right then and there.
"Plus, you were always talking about how the professor went on tangents about wormholes...but you would secretly enjoy them because you always swore you could survive getting sucked through one, remember?" 
Jake’s heart skips at the way you're ever so casually recalling these details that even he didn't remember. He doesn't know which one takes the leaderboard, you calling him ‘Jakey’, or this.
"Wow," he breathes, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. "I didn't think you’d notice all that. I thought I was just rambling half the time and the group would nod along to just be nice."
You shrug, looking up at the boy in front of you while trying to play it off casually, even though your heart feels like it's about to break free from your ribcage. 
"Well, I guess I’ve just always remembered the stuff you talked about. It’s...kind of hard not to when you go on about it with that excited look on your face,” you quickly clamp your mouth and your eyes widen as you realize what you just said out loud. Yup, there goes your heart—broken out of your ribcage, running wild and free.
Jake blinks, mentally putting this interaction at the top of the leaderboard, for sure. 
"Wait, seriously?" Jake's eyes widen as he asks with his voice softer now, as if he's not entirely sure he heard you right. He shifts the matcha latte in his hand, trying to ignore the way his heart just did a little flip at your words.
You're mentally kicking yourself for blurting that out loud, what is going on with you? You swallow hard, feeling trapped in the moment. 
"I mean...yeah," you admit, your voice even quieter now, feeling the gaze of his eyes on you, as you fiddle with the strap of your bag. 
"You get really into the stuff you care about, and it's kind of cute. In, like, a wholesome way," you quickly add, feeling even more heat suddenly rush to your face, "it's just...you know...cute." 
You trail off as you realize you said cute twice but Jake's smile just widens even more at that, and suddenly the mountain of things he's carrying feels a teensy bit lighter. 
"So you think it's cute, huh?" 
Jake feels a newfound confidence, noticing how you're not your typical outspoken self, in fact, you almost look nervous around him. This is his delusion speaking right? Have you always been paying attention to him this way and he's been too blindsided to see it? Regardless, for whatever reason—delusion or not—in this moment, Jake feels a little more out of his comfort zone in front of you. 
"I didn't say that! I said wholesome!" Your eyes dart up to meet his as you protest, but the flustered look on your face betrays you and Jake thinks he could definitely soar to the moon right now.
Jake, still smiling, shifts his weight, and without thinking, takes a small step closer. 
"You totally did," his eyes peer teasingly at you and he doesn't know how he's still breathing, let alone talking, with you looking up at him, like that. "Guess I’ll have to keep talking about stuff I care about, then."
You try to muster something witty back, but the way he’s looking at you—and the way he’s talking to you—is making it so incredibly hard to focus on anything but the fluttering in your chest. 
"Yeah I guess you do," you smile back at him, noticing the lack of space between you two all of the sudden. You've never seen this side of Jake, and you can't help but enjoy it...the banter, the flirty glances, the way he makes you feel—
You clear your throat, snapping yourself back into reality, "So..what is with the project poster and…dry-cleaning?" Your eyes go back to everything he's juggling to avoid further eye contact, grateful for the distraction to give you a chance to catch your breath and regain your composure.
"Oh, this? You know, just doing my daily round of favors for Grace, Heeseung, and the rest of the world apparently," Jake chuckles, more so to himself, at how ridiculous of a situation he really did get himself in. 
You smile, your heart warming at the thought. Jake's always been this way—kind, thoughtful, always helping the people he cares about. Well…in reality, he technically is doing this for someone he cares about…you. 
"Damn, guess I should ask for the same treatment then, huh?" You tilt your head, lips quirking into a grin, eyes lit up.
Typically, that look on your face would have Jake in absolute shambles and he'd probably want to curl up into a turtle shell for life. But whatever cosmic forces that orchestrated this recent shift between you two had given him a much-needed confidence boost.
"I mean, I'd totally do that for you, if that's what you're asking," he leans in with another playful smirk on his face, "anytime."  
Your breath catches, the butterflies in your stomach fighting to escape. 
"Oh? Even if it means running across campus with an iced latte in one hand and my dirty laundry in the other?"  
“For you? Yeah. No problem.” 
For a second, you don’t respond, just watching him with a curious, unreadable expression that always drives him crazy. Now, Jake feels like he might actually pass out from how intensely you’re looking at him. 
Finally, you smile. “I'll hold you to that, Jakey.” 
Jake freezes. It's like you know exactly what that name does to him. 
You giggle, clearly amused at the way he stumbles over a reaction and quickly add, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it! Grace is gonna kill you for bringing over a watered-down matcha. But I'll see you later tonight for movie night, right?"  
Jake suddenly remembers the long-awaited (it was planned one day ago) movie night the group set for tonight, and he gets excited at the idea of seeing you again in just a few hours. 
"Definitely, I'll save you a seat?" 
"Mmm," you nod as you start walking away slowly, still facing him, basking in the way he's watching you. "See you later, Jakey!" 
You finally turn and stroll away, thankful your back is to him now so he can't see how your smile is growing wider than you thought was possible.  
On the other hand, Jake blinks, eyes on you as you walk away, still trying to process what just happened. Confidence or not, you always have the last word. But that doesn’t matter. 
One thing is for sure—Jake Simp is in full throttle, and he’d happily run across campus a hundred times, coffee and laundry in hand, if it means hearing you say his name like that again. 
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Not that Jake’s been counting down the hours until movie night or anything—no, definitely not—but it’s been approximately five hours since he ran into you, and—if he’s being honest—about four and a half of those hours were spent thinking about how he’ll be seeing you again. The other 30 minutes? Well, they were spent explaining to Grace why her matcha was delivered watered down, which was a scolding he’d rather forget about. 
Needless to say, he's even more excited than usual to see you tonight, for no particular reason. But after your last interaction, Jake feels closer to you than ever before. There’s a tiny flicker of hope, but he keeps reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. After all, he’s only recently mastered the art of saying more than one sentence to you without hyperventilating. Baby steps. 
Jake’s eyes scan the coffee table of the living room, mentally checking off all the important snacks (important as in your favorite ones, of course).  
"What vibe are we going for tonight?" Heeseung calls out from the couch, as he flips through the Netflix homepage on their TV. "Horror or coming-of-age rom-com?" 
Jake grimaces, "Please, no horror. I’m still having nightmares from the last movie night." He shudders at the memory. 
"Dude," Jay strolls into the room, chuckling, "Coraline is a kids movie!" 
"A scary kids movie! That thing should be rated at least PG-13!" Jake protests, while still scanning the room to ensure everything’s perfectly set up. Snacks, check. Drinks, check. Your favorite blanket neatly folded on the seat he’s reserved for you? Check. 
As if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door, and Jay casually starts, "I got it!"—but because Jake's Spidey senses (aka Y/N-senses) are sure it's you at the door, he's already sprinting and launches to the door, parkour style, slightly nudging Jay out the way and making it to the door before him—all in a second's time. 
"It’s okay! I got it!" Jake blurts, a bit too breathlessly, leaving Jay with a mixed look of disbelief that quickly morphs into amused pity. 
"Oookayyy," Jay drawls, turning to Heeseung with a knowing look, clearly entertained by their roommate. "He’s officially lost it." 
Jake takes a breath and quickly runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to not look disheveled, before pulling open the door. 
"Y/N. Hi." 
"Jake. Hi," you smile up at him, dressed in what you would call your "comfy movie night outfit"—but what Jake would call Met Gala worthy. He's pretty sure you could wear a paper bag and it'd be Met Gala worthy. 
For a split second, Jake’s brain malfunctions as he stalls at the door. The moment he’s been daydreaming about in his head for the last five hours is happening, but now that it’s here, he has zero idea what to do. Think, Jake, think! 
"Congrats, you’re the first one here!" he blurts, mentally face-palming as soon as the words leave his mouth. 
You giggle as you step inside, "Well, that would make sense, since you guys live here, and Grace is always late to everything. But thanks, Jakey, I’ll take it." 
You turn to grin at the boy once more, and he's officially a goner. RIP.  
"Oh—right," Jake stifles a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting Jay and Heeseung a death glare as they're both silently roasting him with their eyes.  
"Hi boys," you greet the others as you step into the living room, eyes immediately going to the table lined with snacks. "Wow, you guys really went all out!" 
"Hiii Y/N," Heeseung and Jay say in perfect unison. You give them a raised brow, but shrug it off, too used to their weird behavior to question it. 
"Sooo, which seat is mine?" You excitedly turn back to Jake, scanning the available spots.  
"That one! Best seat in the house, guaranteed,” Jake practically beams, heart pitter-pattering as he's pointing to the cushion right next to his favorite spot. 
"Oh really? What makes it the best?" you ask, plopping down and curling up instantly into the cushion, which makes Jake wonder how much more his heart can truly take before it spontaneously implodes on itself. 
“It comes with your favorite blanket and easy access to the snacks. All your favorites, by the way," 
Jake slides into the seat beside you, keeping his voice cool.  
He’s very proud of himself for that one. After all, he did scour three different stores near campus for watermelon Sour Patch and strawberry Pocky. 
Jay butts in, grinning like the devil himself, "And the fact that you’re sitting next to Jake makes it extra special, right, Jakey?"
"Oh? Is that so?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence, although you've always known that the middle seat cushion has always been Jake's sacred seat on movie nights. 
"He’s...joking. I can sit anywhere! I just, uh... think this seat happens to have the best angle of the TV." Jake’s heart is definitely about to combust. 
Smooth, Jake. Real smooth. 
You smile and place a hand on Jake’s knee, patting it lightly, "I trust you, Jake. I’m already enjoying this seat more than you know." 
Jake swallows thickly, his body going rigid under your warm hand briefly against his skin. He thinks if he tries to say anything else, it'll come out sounding like a goose giving birth to fifty eggs. 
From Jake’s other side, Heeseung chimes in, obliviously saving his hopeless roommate, "So, Y/N—horror or rom-com tonight?"
"Horror!" you gasp excitedly, eyes widening immediately, "I need those jump scares to make me feel something, you know?" 
Jay breaks out in a coughing fit, nearly choking on his sudden laughter, while Jake shoots him yet another death glare.  
“Y/N, I completely agree with you! Any objections anyone?” Jay announces almost animatedly, leaving you slightly confused but, once again, unfazed by your friend’s weirdness. 
"Nope, none from me. Jake?" Heeseung raises a brow, also trying not to laugh himself. 
Jake looks at you, seeing how excited you are, and yep—he’s screwed. More nightmares for him, it seems. 
"Nope! I’m...totally down for horror." 
You lightly clap your hands in excitement, making Jake realize that, yeah, the nightmares are probably worth it if it means seeing you this happy. 
As you reach over for a snack, Jay mouths the word "SIMP" at Jake. Jake responds with an eye roll, but yeah, Jay’s not wrong. 
~~~ 
The movie is only 20 minutes in when you frown looking at the coffee table, “How is it possible we’re out of snacks already?”  
“I blame Grace for showing up late. I got hungry, okay?” Jay says, pointing at her. Grace responds by smacking the back of his head. “Ouch.” 
Heeseung pauses the movie. “Vending machine run, anyone?” 
“Jake and Y/N, go! Perfect candidates,” Jay suggests without skipping a beat, rubbing the back of his head from the provoked attack.  
You raise an eyebrow at Jake, feeling your heart race a little faster. You're trying to play it cool but the thought of having a moment alone with him sends a buzz through you. It's the kind of opportunity you didn't realize you were hoping for—wait, were you? You have no idea. But what you do know is that being around Jake has felt different lately, in a good way. There's something about his presence that makes you want to be near him more and more. It's confusing, whatever this is, but all you can admit to yourself right now is, feelings or not, you want this time with him.  
Jake opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t manage to get anything out before you quickly grab his hand and pull him toward the door. 
“Okay! Be back in a few!” you call back to the group, trying to sound casual. 
Inside, you’re freaking out just a little. Or a lot. Definitely a lot. The feeling of his hand in yours is warm, almost comforting, but there’s...something that you swear is there. It just feels right.  
Jake follows behind you down the hall, and you can feel the warmth of his hand lingering even as you let go. You sneak a glance at him, and for some reason, he just seems... different. You've always found Jake cute. That's not news. But this—this is different, this isn't your typical ‘oh he's cute’ feeling...but you can't pinpoint what it is either. You shake the thought off.  
"Soo…" you start, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. Your heart pounds a little louder, and you hope he can’t hear it over the sound of your sneakers hitting the hallway tiles. He’s just so cute standing there, slightly awkward, but making it work. How can someone look this adorable just existing? 
“Sorry for dragging you out like that. I hope you don't mind,” you finally say as you both step into the elevator. You try to sound casual, but the slight bubble in your throat betrays you.  
“Oh—no, not at all. I totally wanted to...go with you...” Jake says, and then he quickly adds, “I mean, you're practically saving me from all the jump scares.” 
You laugh softly after a beat of silence, raising an eyebrow as the elevator doors open. “I thought you said you didn’t mind horror movies?” 
“Well,” Jake hesitates, but then says quietly, “how could I say no when you were that excited to watch one?” 
You blink, feeling your breath catch for a second. Did he just—? You look up at him, searching his expression, but all you see is that sweet smile of his, and your mind goes a little fuzzy, trying to piece together what that meant. 
You roll the thought around for a second before giving him a playful nudge. 
“Wow, who knew Jake Sim was such a people pleaser?” You’re teasing, but there’s an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest when he simply grins at you in response.  
As you step into the vending machine room, a soft hum fills the space. You glance at Jake again—he's studying the snack options with a small, focused frown, and you can’t help but smile. Why is everything he does so...frustratedly cute? 
Eventually, he sighs, giving up on his snack mission, and leans casually against the machine. Meanwhile, you're slightly bent down, continuing to mentally analyze the shelves, but you're hyper-aware of the fact that his eyes are definitely on you. And because you can feel the heat from his gaze, you swear you're turning ten shades redder by the second.  
“Are you gonna help me pick out snacks, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even though your brain's in overdrive. Your eyes stay glued to the snack shelves, anything to avoid the tension of locking eyes with him right now. 
“Hmmm,” you can hear the teasing smirk in his voice, and it sends a spark through you. “Nah, you can handle the snacks. I’m perfectly okay where I am.” 
You roll your eyes playfully, but your pulse quickens. Punching in the numbers for a random snack, you slide a dollar into the machine, stalling a little before you finally stand up and look up at him. “Oh, are you?” 
You don’t expect him to be this close when you're fully standing up. The space between you shrinks, and suddenly, you can almost feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse thumps loudly in your ears as you try your best to swallow the lump in your throat.  
“Still perfectly okay?” The words come out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. You’re holding his gaze now, neither of you wanting to break it. You swear you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn't for your loud heartbeat right now.  
Jake swallows, and for a split second, you see him hesitate. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and that simple, unintentional move makes your breath hitch. You could lean in right now—close the gap between you—and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe you're hoping he's thinking the same thing. 
But then Jake chuckles, breaking the silence with his soft laugh that makes your stomach flip for maybe the hundredth time tonight. 
“I, uh… yeah, I’m still okay,” he says, though his voice exposes just how not okay he actually is. You see the faintest blush creeping up his neck, and it’s endearing—so much so that you almost forget you were nervous too.  
You swear you can sense him shuffle just a little bit closer and you're subconsciously wanting to lean into the feeling... 
Plop! 
The sound of the bag of chips landing at the bottom of the machine breaks whatever moment you thought was forming between you two.  
You blink. Jake blinks. 
For a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Jake is the first to snap out of it. His hand quickly goes to rake through his hair, his eyes darting anywhere but yours, and the flush on his cheeks is unmistakable. It almost matches the heat you feel creeping up your own face. 
You can’t tell if you’re more relieved or disappointed that the moment broke so abruptly. You can't tell anything at this point, if you're being honest.  
“Uh—um,” you clear your throat, reaching for the snack like it’s the most important thing in the world. “I hope you like sour cream and onion chips!” 
You hold up the bag with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension in the air. Jake just gives you this soft, searching smile, like he's trying to figure out what just happened—or maybe he's wondering if you felt it too. 
The way his eyes are so gentle, so open, makes your stomach flutter, and because you think you might actually crumble if he keeps looking at you like that for a second longer, you break eye contact to immediately turn back to the vending machine, hoping the heat in your face isn’t as obvious as it feels. 
“What other snacks do you think they’d like?” you hum, trying to sound casual, but inside you’re mentally screaming at yourself for not just going for it earlier. Great going, Y/N. 
From the corner of your eye, you catch Jake letting out a small exhale before he chuckles softly. 
“Honestly, as long as it has sugar, I think everyone will be happy,” he says, and you instantly feel yourself relax, his lightheartedness simmering the tension a bit.
"Hmmm... sour cream and onion and sugar. Got it," you punch in a few more random numbers into the machine, feeding it your remaining cash. "Looks like we’ve hit all the major food groups for today. Nutritionists everywhere will be so proud." 
The air between you both feels a lot lighter now, but there’s still a lingering warmth under your skin—a little too flustered to fully shake it off. You wonder if Jake is feeling the same, but if he is, he seems to be handling it way better than you are. Of course he would be. Cool, calm, collected Jake. (Also ironic, isn't it?)  
"Honestly, we should just unplug the machine and rob the whole thing," Jake playfully adds as you grab the last snack from the bottom slot. "You already know Jay’s gonna inhale all of these the second we walk back in." 
"You’re so right. I say next time, Operation 'Y/N and Jake versus the vending machine' needs to happen,” you laugh, feeling a little more like yourself again. 
"Oh, so what I'm hearing is there’s gonna be a next time?" Jake raises an eyebrow as the two of you start heading back to the elevator. "Count me in." 
You instinctively roll your eyes at how annoyingly smooth he was being, but you can't help the giddy smile growing on your face as a result of his words. As you two stand side by side to each other in the elevator, there's a new quiet that's settled and it's...nice. It's not awkward, just...heavier than before. As if there's a shared secret between you—something you both know but aren't ready to speak aloud just yet. But it's there—just for the two of you to mutually share in comfortable silence.  
Before you reach the apartment, you feel a light tug on your sleeve, and you stop. Looking up, you see Jake holding onto the corner of your sleeve, his expression...soft. Like, too soft. And for a moment, you swear time just stops. If he was on a mission to officially kill you, he can officially say mission accomplished.  
"Y/N, I—" he hesitates, his voice quieter again, like he's about to say something serious, and your heart picks up speed again. But then he stops himself, his grip loosening.  
You blink up at him, wanting him to continue so bad, but also unsure if you're ready of what might come next. 
"Mmm?" you hum, almost afraid to say anything louder. 
Jake bites the inside of his cheek, looking like he’s at war with himself. He finally lets go of your sleeve and gives you a small smile. 
"Sorry, it’s...nothing. Just... you look really nice tonight." 
The sudden, sincere comment catches you off guard, and you feel that familiar warmth rush to your face once again.  
"Oh," you manage to squeak out, because apparently, that's all you're capable of in the moment as your heart is spiraling. "Thanks, Jakey."  
You smile and look down at where his hand just was on your sleeve, and you almost want to reach out and grab his hand again, just to see if it'll feel as warm as it did earlier. Why do you want to reach out so bad?  
Jake's eyes flicker to yours, and for a split second, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable—but then, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to the apartment door behind you, and he clears his throat.  
"Yeah," he says almost breathlessly. "Sorry, we should...probably go in. They probably think we got lost or something at this point."  
You finally let out a breath and snap yourself back in reality from staring at him. 
"Right, yeah. Wouldn’t want them sending a search party," you joke, though your brain’s still fuzzy from the million thoughts and feelings swirling around. 
As Jake unlocks the door, you can’t help but wonder if whatever just happened between you two was all in your head. But it can’t be, right? That feeling had to be real... Right? 
You step inside, and your friends’ commentary barely registers. It’s all background noise compared to the whirlpool of emotions screaming inside you. You sit back down on the couch, and so does Jake, in his seat next to yours.  
And while the movie plays for the rest of the night, you can't seem to focus on anything but the memory of everything that's happened tonight. That and the feeling of Jake’s arm resting right up against yours.  
You’re doomed. 
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Jake has never been more confused in his entire life, like, ever. The past few days for him have been more confusing than that one semester he took Postmodern Interpretations of the Emoji Language and actually had to write a ten-page paper on the laughing emoji (don't judge, he had to fulfill his last two elective credits somehow).  
Life has been an absolute whirlwind for Jake—mainly due to the fact that his emotions have been spinning out of control. And to top it off, today’s the long-awaited rematch day.  
Normally, Jake would be a complete wreck by now, bouncing his leg under the table or fidgeting with his phone, but today? Today, he's nervous in a completely different way. The kind of nerves you get when you already know what's about to happen… but after everything that’s gone down lately, he thinks there’s something more between the two of you. And it has nothing to do with Heeseung’s so-called love algorithm. 
At least, he hopes there’s something between you two. Unless—oh god—he’s been totally delusional this whole time, and you’ve just been nice, and Jake’s fully lost it. Perfect, that’s exactly what he needs right now, on top of everything else. But the scariest part? In just a few moments, when the app refreshes and pairs you two together, Jake's going to have to face whatever's been simmering between you both—whether he's ready for it or not.  
And as if Heeseung could read his trembling thoughts, he breaks the silence at the lunch table, "Are you guys ready?"  
Grace and Jay's heads are nodding so fast for Heeseung to just push the 'send' button already, Jake thinks they look like bobbleheads. But when he glances over at you, you don't seem nearly as eager. Which is...weird. Considering how only a couple days ago, you were fired up about the rematch. But now? You look almost...conflicted?  
Jake's eyes linger on you for a second longer, taking in the way you're biting your lip, clearly deep in your thoughts. He can't help but find the sight of you zoned out like that so ridiculously adorable.  
"Y/N?" He nudges you gently. "You good?"  
"Huh?" You blink, snapping out of your daydream. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Just...thinking, I guess."  
"You'll be fine, Y/N!" Grace chimes in, ever the optimist. "I bet you're gonna love whoever your match is!"  
Well, gee, Jake really, really, hopes so. If not, the last few days will have been a very confusing rollercoaster of emotional whiplash. 
"Right," Jake agrees, trying to act normal, though his voice sounds a little too tight. "Everything's going to be fine." Please, please let everything be fine.  
Jake can tell you're hesitant about something—you open your mouth like you want to say something, but then just as quickly, you press your lips closed again. If Jake didn't think you were the most precious being in the world, you could say you look like a fish out of water right now.
"Hypothetically speaking," you slowly speak up, eyes flicking up to your friends. "What would you do if...let's say you started catching feelings for someone...but then the app might pair you with someone else?" You pause, swallowing hard. 
"Hypothetically…of course.”
Grace raises an eyebrow. Heeseung freezes mid-bite. And Jake? Well, let's just say his heart is already running a mile into the marathon. Hypothetical? Feelings? That has to be about him, right? What were the chances?  
Jay lets out a snort. "Lucky for you, in a hypothetical situation, you do absolutely nothing. Cause it's...you know, hypothetical."  
"Yeah, you're right. Forget I said anything." You wave your hand, brushing it off, but Jake notices a blush growing across your face. "Okay, Hee! Let's get this over with."  
Jake's mind is spinning. What could you have possibly meant by that? That had to be about him...right? Because that is all he's ever wanted, all he's been pining for. But at the same time...it's too good to be true, so Jake refuses to believe it. He can't get his hopes up—not yet.
"Okayyyy," Heeseung's still lifting an eyebrow at your odd behavior before he clears his throat, “everyone ready?”  
Jay and Grace drum the table in anticipation, and Jake? Jake's pretty sure he's going to throw up. 
Heeseung taps his screen, and the table collectively holds its breath. Then, all at once, everyone’s phones light up. 
Grace and Jay scramble to grab their phones first and Jake thinks he's actually developing an incurable case of heart failure.  
“WHAT?” Grace shrieks before she whips around to Jay with wide eyes. “I got you, AGAIN!”  
Jay, unbothered, raises his hands defensively, “What can I say? It’s science, Gracey-poo.”  
"Sure. Science," Grace rolls her eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. "Like how you scientifically forgot how to text me back after last night's study sesh?"  
Before Grace can verbally throttle Jay, Jake's entire focus narrows in on you, and how your phone is still face down on the table. You haven't even touched it.
The suspense is killing him, especially knowing his name is going to be on your screen. And if it's not? Well, then the end. End of fanfic. Cue the end credits.  
You, on the other hand, are staring intently at the Grace v. Jay debacle, as if focusing hard enough on other people's life issues will prevent the existential crisis you're about to have. Honestly, your phone could've exploded into a million pieces next to you and you'd still be pretending to care more about anything else.  
Because honestly? You couldn't care less about whoever Heeseung's magical powers paired you with—you're more focused on whatever's been going on between you and Jake. Or at least, you hope, there’s something happening between you and Jake. Unless, oh god, he's just being nice, and you've fully lost it. Please, please don't tell me I've lost it.  
"Y/N! Jake! Who did you guys get?" Grace turns towards the two of you, breaking the both of you out of your respective spirals. 
"Right, yeah. Um—okay. Let's see,” you let out a shaky laugh as your hands fidget in your lap before they finally reach for your phone, as Jake does the same next to you.  
You take a breath, click on the daunting email notification on your screen, and finally look down.  
You blink down at your phone. You squeeze your eyes to make sure they’re not deceiving you.  
Match: Sim Jae-yun  
Your brain is absolutely jumbled beyond saving, you seem to have forgotten how to breathe, and your stomach feels like it was just turned inside out. You don’t know what’s happening, is this what dying feels like?
You blink once. Twice. And maybe a third time just to make extra, extra sure.  
Suddenly, the whole room seems to slow down, like you're watching a replay of your life recently at 0.5 speed. All the moments between you and Jake flash by: the vending machine run, the shared glances, the oddly adorable way he got flustered over you calling him 'Jakey.' But you don't have time to fully process everything because the fact is:  
You’ve just been matched with Jake. Jake.  
You finally look up, heart racing, and try to see if Jake's opened his notification yet, but his face is still too normal at whatever he's looking at on his phone. Or, more accurately, he's pretending to be normal, because the tips of his ears are a little too red for someone who's ‘chill’ (he's most definitely not chill, right now).  
"So, uh..." Jake's voice finally comes out quiet, his gaze slowly meeting yours, and it makes you feel like you two are the only ones at this table. Scratch that, in this world. "Did you open yours?"
"Yeah,” you nod, trying to act nonchalant, “I did.”
Jake lets out a soft chuckle, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
"Same here."
The way he says it—soft, like he’s addressing the shared secret between the two of you—makes the air feel warmer. Or maybe it’s just you overheating. Get it together, Y/N.
Grace, across the table, catches the tension happening in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth like she's watching a slow motion scene of a k-drama unfold in real time. Then—
“Oh my god,” she gasps loudly, before violently clapping a hand over her mouth. 
Her eyes fill with excitement and just as quickly, she jumps up, grabbing both Jay and Heeseung by the back of their shirts and yanking them to their feet. 
“We’re getting boba! Be right back!”  
Heeseung’s brows scrunch. “Wait, what? I don’t even wan—“  
“Too bad! We’re going.”  
And just like that, you’re left alone with Jake next to you—and his flaming red ears that could probably power a small country. 
“So…” Jake clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he finally turns to look at you.  
“So..,” you softly say, your fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table, hoping he'll say something, anything. 
"So," Jake repeats for the third time, followed by an awkward chuckle. “Uh...what do we...do now?”  
You blink.
“Do now?”  
Jake’s eyes dart to yours, and for a second, you think he’s about to up and bolt from the table. 
“I mean, like, uh...we’re…well, I don’t know, is there something to do now..? Or not do? That’s okay too! I have no idea. I’m just—wow. Sorry.”  
You smile endearingly at him before breaking out into laughter as your heart does a little Olympics routine. How were you this oblivious before?  
“Jake,” you say between laughs, catching your breath as you instantly feel eased by him. "It's okay. I've been thinking...I—" 
You mentally high-five yourself and give yourself a pep talk for what you're about to say. Please, for the love of all things holy, don't let me be wrong about this.
"I can't stop thinking about you," you say, voice quiet, but steady. "It's like you've taken over my brain, Jake, and it's driving me crazy. And I don't know—I don't know if it's just me or if everything I've been sensing between us is real, but I think my brain might explode if I didn't tell you. Plus, I was terrified the Matchmatic would pair you with someone else and I had lost my chance."  
You finally feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders, but when you look at Jake? He's gone. Eyes wide, looking like a malfunctioning robot. His mouth opens and closes, and you're 110% sure he's about to glitch out of existence right in front of you.  
"Wow."  
You blink. Wow? That's it? Is this a good wow or a wow-she's-crazy wow? Naturally, you think it’s the latter, so you mentally prepare yourself to fake your death and move to Norway.  
But before you're about to flee the scene and start your new life as a mountain goat herder, Jake's eyes lock on yours, filled with the softest, most fond expression you've ever seen.  
"Y/N, I like you. A lot. And I have for, like...forever, I think." His voice is quiet, but his shoulders are more relaxed the more he looks at you. "I didn't think you'd feel the same way. You know, because we're friends and all." 
Your smile grows impossibly wide as you nudge his shoulder playfully with yours. 
"Well, surprise surprise, you're wrong."  
Jake chuckles, now fully facing you, his face flushed from wearing his heart on his sleeve. But for you? He thinks he’s about to stand on this lunch table and scream his feelings into a megaphone. 
"So...maybe we could try out this 'more-than-friends' thing?" you suggest, finding it hard to form a coherent sentence without sounding like a fifth grader. But Jake? Jake thinks seeing you stumbling your words over talking to him, for once, is the cutest sight ever. "I mean, unless you don't want—"  
"Oh, I definitely want to!" Jake practically launches himself forward, his smile so big you wish you could keep a mental image of it forever.
You laugh, suddenly feeling lighter. "Okay, then. Let's do it."  
"Here's to doing it!" Jake echoes, his voice warm and soft as he moves closer to you, finding it hard to resist just simply being in your close presence. Then, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, "I mean, not like do it, do it—wait, but not saying that I wouldn't—oh god—"  
Your giggles are uncontrollable once again as you watch Jake's face turn into the deepest shade of red you've ever seen. Without even thinking, you reach for his hand, seeking stability, as if he's a magnet drawing you in and you can't resist the pull of his warmth.
You finally take a breath, calming yourself down as Jake's eyes flicker down to your intertwined fingers, and his smile softens into something that makes your heart so full.  
For a moment, neither of you say anything, just letting the weight of everything finally settle, your hand resting under his in between you two. Then, Jake's thumb brushes softly over your knuckles, and he looks up at you with that newfound confidence that somehow makes him even more irresistible.  
“So…now what?” Jake's corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he subconsciously leans in closer than before, and this time, you know there's no way you're backing out. 
A playful smile tugs at your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft brown eyes and his mouth. 
“Well, I mean…you still owe me from the vending machine.”  
Jake freezes. He blinks in confusion, and you're pretty sure you can hear the whirrr of his brain rebooting right in front of you.  
“Oh, you mean for the snacks? How much do I owe you? I can Venmo you, or, uh, buy you more snacks?” he stammers, completely caught off guard by your random comment, especially when he thought this was the moment. But, you know...priorities, I guess?  
Now you freeze, blinking at him before you let out a giggle that surprises even you. Seriously? You reach out and gently cup his adorably confused face.  
"Jake, you lovable dork," you say, shaking your head, unable to stop the giggles bubbling up. "Not what I meant."  
Jake doesn't even get the chance to respond (and honestly, he doesn't know if he could even form words right now, not with you so close, holding his face so gently). Before either of you even know it, you lean up and close the gap, your lips softly pressing against his.  
Jake freezes for a heartbeat. Or maybe two. He's unsure if he's even still breathing (is oxygen even necessary at a time like this?). But then, instinctively, his hands find their way to your waist, and he's gently pulling you closer on the table bench, as if he's afraid to let you slip away. He's pretty sure the world hit pause, and all that existed was the softness of your touch, the sweet warmth of your lips, and the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo that's doing a great job at scrambling his brain right now.  
He tries to stay cool—he really does—but his lips curve into a smile against yours, and he can't help but think, well, this is it. This is peak life. I've peaked. This? This just knocked anything else right off the leaderboard of his best life moments. 
It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed and everything Jake’s been dreaming about.
He's savoring every little moment, every little movement guided by you, feeling like he's on cloud infinity, before you pull away, a soft pink blush growing on your entire face.
You lean your head back slightly to look at him, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you. Jake’s eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed, but there’s a soft, almost dazed smile playing on his lips, like he’s still processing.
"W-wow," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he's trying to process if he's actually alive or in a sugar-induced dream. 
"Yeah," you breathe out, smiling as you gently run your thumb across his cheek, enjoying the way his face heats up even more under your touch. 
"So...," you say playfully after a beat of silence, leaning in so close that you're sure you’d be kissing him all over again if it wasn’t for your self-control, "do I still get my snacks?"
Jake laughs, officially breaking the heavy tension. He drops his head on your shoulder, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the pure sensation of you, but in the best way possible.  
"You can have all the snacks you want," he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with so much affection that you think you might actually burst with joy. "Take my whole bank account while you're at it. Take whatever you want."  
You can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer to you. 
"You're ridiculous, Sim Jae-yun." 
"I know," he admits, voice still muffled into your shoulder. "But I'm your ridiculous, algorithm-proven match, right?"  
Jake feels your laughter from under him. "Mmmhmm, Jakey. 100% mine. Algorithm or not."  
You feel his smile grow against your shoulder as your arms squeeze him tighter. The perfect moment settles and you think you could die happy right now. For the first time in days, everything feels right.
But then, Jake pulls back just slightly, still under your hold, his eyebrows furrowing like he's about to say something very important.  
"Wait—" he raises his eyebrows at you.
 "—does this mean you never saw me as a Roomba?"  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
epilogue: 
“If your next words are that you’re Spider-Man,” you say, your head nestled in Jake’s lap as you absentmindedly watch the TV, “then congratulations, you’re officially the world’s coolest boyfriend ever.”
Jake lets out a soft laugh, his fingers gently playing with the ends of your hair. It’s movie night—a rare, private one this time, much to your friends' annoyance. No horror films tonight (thank god, because Jake still hasn’t fully recovered from the last one), but honestly, the movie has long been forgotten. The moment Jake blurted out that he had something ‘dire’ to tell you, all plotlines flew out the window. 
You told him, unless it's about a sudden worldwide ramen shortage or that he's secretly a bug-themed superhero, then it could definitely wait until after the movie. 
But Jake had shook his head, claiming no, it’s like…life-changing important. 
Which is why you’re here now, his lap a perfect pillow, waiting for him to speak. He looks down at you, and you finally catch the serious gleam in his eyes. Oh wait, he’s actually being serious. 
“No, unfortunately, I don’t have Spidey senses,” he laughs nervously, gently nudging you up until you’re sitting face to face on the couch. “I do think I’ve developed Y/N senses, though.” 
“Oh? What are your Y/N senses telling you now?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking. 
“Um… that you hopefully won’t be mad at me?” Jake’s voice wavers slightly, hands fiddling with yours, and your playful smile fades just a little, confusion and worry taking over your face. 
“Oh. Okay. What’s up?” You straighten up, fully turning toward him, sitting crisscrossed.
Jake hesitates, looking down at your intertwined fingers, and takes a deep breath.
“Well, remember the Matchmatic thingy from a few months ago?” 
“Mmhm,” you hum, studying his expression. 
“So… um…I may or may not have done something…to make sure you got matched with me,” Jake’s eyes immediately squeeze shut, bracing for impact, like he’s expecting an explosion, or worse, your wrath. 
There’s a beat of silence. And then— 
You burst into laughter. Full-on, head-thrown-back, shoulders-shaking laughter. You drop your head back into Jake’s lap, your cackles muffled by his hoodie, while Jake sits frozen, staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. 
“I—uh… I’m confused?” He stares down at you, unsure if you’re about to pull a full-on Joker moment. 
“Jakey,” you coo, your laughter softening into giggles as you sit back up and cradle his cheeks. “You are so adorable. You really thought I didn’t know?” 
Jake blinks. 
“Wait, what?” 
“I knew.” You grin, watching as his brain seems to stall for a second. 
“…You knew?” 
You nod, leaning back on your hands. 
“Yeah, I knew. I mean, I kind of just put two and two together after we started dating. And Hee? He's a genius, no way he messed up the first way around,” you roll your eyes playfully. 
“But the thing is, Jake… the algorithm didn’t make me like you. I already did.” You reach forward and tap his forehead lightly, preciously smiling at how utterly stunned he looks. 
“You—wait, what?” Jake’s mind is catching up at the speed of 3G internet. 
“Yeah,” you laugh again, softer this time.  
He’s still staring at you, wide-eyed, like you just casually told him you're moving to the moon tomorrow. Honestly, he looks like his entire world just got flipped upside down, but in the best way possible, of course.  
“So…you’re not mad?” 
"Nope."  
"And you still wanna be with me?"  
"Yup."  
"And you're not just saying that because I buy you all the snacks you want?"  
"Nope."  
"Oh thank god," Jake exhales dramatically, hand flying to his chest like he barely survived a life-threatening situation. He looks at you with the softest, dopiest smile that makes you feel like you're staring at a puppy in a rom-com. "Because you are, hands down, the most perfect person for me. Like, ever."  
"You are so cute, Jakey," you scrunch your nose at him before leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his blushing cheek, which only makes his ears turn an even deeper shade of red.  
But before you can pull away, he's already frowning playfully.  
"Wait, wait—one more question." 
"Mhm?" 
"Cute as in 'kiss' cute or 'puppy' cute?"
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
the end! i hope you guys liked it ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
tagged: @climbingmandevillas @byeoltual @junhuiste-ficrec
cue all the tags now...
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fabbyf1 · 15 hours
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just a reminder to all my lovely followers to take a deep breath.
drink some water. have a snack. close your eyes for a few minutes. log off for a while. watch something that makes you happy. listen to some music, or a podcast, or anything that makes you smile
please don't let formula 1 ruin your mental health.
my timeline is an... interesting place to be today. i have seen a lot of posts that make me think "oh no... i hope that person is okay." a lot of people are sad today (for valid reasons!) and a lot of people are happy (also for valid reasons!) and it's okay to be either or both, but it's a great time to remember that you will be okay.
and that you will make it through this.
please don't let formula 1 ruin your mental health.
i know it's hard not to get overly attached to drivers, especially when we have so much access to them and consume so much of their content. and i know watching them leave the sport feels like everything is over and that you'll never enjoy it like you once did.
but as someone who has been around this sport for a while, i can tell you that your love for it will come back, and you'll fall in love with other drivers. and, if not, you can step away from the sport with absolutely no repercussions! none of us are getting paid to be here. (at least i'm not.)
please, please, please log off for a while if you're are actively hurting over this.
i promise you it's not worth it.
i'm here if anybody wants some forced elderly advice about putting yourself first <3
sincerely, grandma
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merilaurecus · 3 days
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Companions reactions to finding out Modern!Tav can't return to Earth and is stuck in Faerûn for good
This was on my mind for a while. It's post-game, a while after the defeat of the Netherbrain but before the reunion party. The group is still together.
Gale (Professor Dekarios ending)
Already thinking about a spell that actually can do it.
Can't help but feel a little hopeless when even Elminster said it's not possible.
But this man won't give up until he really runs out of options (ambition™️).
One of the few companions that can offer you a place to stay.
Also will offer a hug or an evening together (certified Gale girlie here, if that was me I'd probably confess to him; not that night because I'd be too overwhelmed with leaving what I knew behind, but the next night I'd be like "fuck it, I had a feelings for him before anyway, might as well").
Compassionate and understanding, though he'd try to be around to make sure you are doing well enough not to do anything stupid (yes, I mean the worst option here beginning with the letter S).
Meal cooked with love is on his to-do list (homemade hundur sauce I'm looking at you).
Even when he's down in his research he'll look out for you from time to time.
Also doing the sad eyes when he thinks about the situation. When he was told it wasn't an option he was rather terrified.
Still he prepares a worst case scenario books to teach you stuff about Faerûn. Prays he doesn't have to ever use them.
Karlach (yeet into Avernus with Wyll)
Yo this girl will be your shoulder to cry on.
But she'll probably cry with you together.
She knows how it feels more than she'd like.
But she can leave Avernus from time to time, can't imagine being stuck there forever.
After crying together she'll remain strong for you, probably won't leave your side in fear of you doing something stupid too.
Can't help much with magic but cheering you up? You've got this. Long chats to drive your mind away from the situation about any topic other than that, cuddles, that sort of things.
Also helping you gain some physical strength so you can survive here.
Hugs. Hugs. And once again - hugs.
Will look out for you most of the time if she can't be near.
Astarion (vampire spawn in Baldur's Gate)
He won't even dare to make a joke about it.
I mean it.
He may not know being stuck in other world, but being a slave with no way out of it gives him an idea of what kind of situation you're in.
Won't be the cuddliest or shit, but will keep your Earth clothes in a good shape (tailor time). Just so you have something from there to last longer.
Much like the others, he'll look out for you in the night, but will do it his sneaky way. Just enough for him to know you're alright without you noticing.
He'll say how he feels about your situation in time though. May even offer a hug. He's not Karlach but after all the events he's more open to physical contact with his friends.
Ready to teach you more stuff about Faerûn if nothing works to get you back to Earth. Especially archery. And sneaking. And stealing.
Shadowheart (Selûnite edition)
Let's be honest, all of these people were torn apart from their homes in one way or another.
Shadowheart can relate to you, though her experience is different too.
She doesn't remember much, but you do.
Approaches you with good (but weak) wine and allows you to pour your misery out.
Tells you you have a place to stay with her parents (let's go the happy endings route).
She's not a wizard, but will keep an eye out for every piece of knowledge about travelling through different worlds.
You've been to Shadowfell and Avernus after all.
Will talk you out of sacrificing your memories to Shar. She knows all to well she'd take everything from your little desperate soul.
Flowers are her language of love.
Will also animal speech Scratch and the owlbear to play with you instead of her, telling them how bad you feel.
Soon you can't get them off you, but it does put a smile on your face.
When no one is looking she'll pray to Selûne to guide you your way back home.
Much like everyone she looks out for you, ready to teach you about Faerûn as well (if she hasn't already she'll teach you how to heal yourself when you're alone).
Lae'zel (Freeing Githyanki/Orpheus sacrificed)
At first she found your tears weak.
Then she realized what it would feel like not being able to return to her people.
She felt that to the gut.
She'll show you more tricks to make your enemies fall quick (lmao I rhymed this one).
Also will keep an eye out for a knowledge that could bring you back to Earth (you know, Githyanki and their tons of knowledge).
Not much talkative but you'll see understanding in her eyes soon enough.
If you're a sword fighter she'll give you one of her sharpest ones. Githyanki language of caring is either combat or weapons you know.
(Daddy) Halsin
He also remembers being somewhere else against his wishes, though as a slave.
A single thought of not seeing sun again if he was to stay in the Underdark forever gives him creeps.
You need a hug? A cuddle? He'll be there for you in either form you choose.
You're not escaping whittling and druidic magic lessons. Just so you can get your mind off things and also heal/defend yourself should the situation call for it.
Offers you a place to stay, you're welcome anytime.
Not much of a cook but will pick the finest berries and find the biggest honey comb in the forest.
Looks out for you in some small wildshape (raven or a squirrel probably) when you sneak in the night to cry alone. Should he see situation is bad will approach you in his usual bear form.
Strongly believes there's a way - you've done much that was thought to be impossible. Especially you, someone who had almost no previous experience with weapons or magic.
He's old and wise - will keep thinking about it in hopes some solution will remind itself.
Wyll (yeet into Avernus with Karlach)
Banished from his home he understands a bit of your situation.
Haven't been to other world with no way back, it was his decision to go to Avernus with Mommy K, but he knows Karlach and it helps him understand it.
Another shoulder you can cry one, the Blade does not judge.
Still you're fresh to Faerûn and he'll hate to see you dead before your time, so he'll offer you fencing lessons (I can hear that eyeroll, Lae'zel).
Asks about the dances back in your world and gladly learns them (belgijka jumpscare).
Looking out for you when you go somewhere alone (especially at night).
In Avernus he'll look for some knowledge about travels to different worlds. It's another plane of existence after all.
Jaheira, Minsc & Boo
Minsc is happy to have his friend here forever only to understand the situation after either Jaheira or Boo explains it to him.
Jaheira feels for you more than she'd like to show, but you'll see care in her eyes.
Just like Halsin she'll research her memory for anything that may allow you to return.
Minsc apologises to you after the scolding.
Won't help much tho, he'll be just an emotional support (together with Boo, of course).
Jaheira asks all the Harpers to keep an eye out for any book or a scroll related to your problem. Also will ask any of her old friends to do the same, even if it means her repaying that favour. She can still go fast when she wants to!
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dnpbeats · 1 day
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Yeah its so weird. People act as if the reason dan left and the issue dnp had with privacy was that people shipped them and wrote fanfic. Outside of like 2011/12 when dan had a (in his own recount) freakout because people were clocking him, they did not give a fuck at any point about the shipping or the theories. That is clearer now than ever, as they have a whole tour based around it and are actively encouraging it because they find it funny. What they did care about was when people reached out to their friends and family, harrasing those peoples social medias, because they didnt choose to put themselves on the internet, dnp did. What they did care about was the fact that apparently some fans figured out where they lived and used that info to go to their first flat in london and knock on the door to talk to them. Like. Thats invading privacy. Looking at a twitter account that was and has been public for 15 years, and cross matching it with things that have been publicly said and posted is not breachibg privacy? Thats? Not the same thing???
lmao thank you lmao like? I'm convinced that anytime someone says "this is giving demon phannie we are going back to 2014 and they're gonna leave again" they were not actually here for that era bc like 😭😭 d&p have been clear they dgaf about theories, espc recently. ppl just have no media literacy when it comes to what dan said in BIG
but honestly even if ppl still don't like the research I honestly don't care they have the right to not like it, what actually pissed me off the most was that the ppl who were talking shit seemed to be operating under the assumption that the dan being philslion theory existed for forever, then d&p denied it so I came along and decided to disprove what they said after the fact. which is just not fucking what happened like the doc IS the theory. basically no one was saying it was dan before I posted all the proof, no one would have asked them about it if it wasn't for my posts 😭 if you're gonna shit talk me go ahead but at least have your facts straight first, it takes .5 seconds to see the dates I posted everything like lol
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Okay but you know we need some future domesticated Jake & darlin with kids in our lives
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Jake carefully extracted himself from bed, shifting incrementally to ensure he didn't wake you. Yesterday's clothing was strewn on the floor after last night's adventure. He picked up his underwear and undershirt and put them on again, leaving the room to head off his sons who were early risers.
"Daddy," Asher said with a yawn as he walked out of his bedroom. "I'm hungry."
"I know, kiddo," he whispered, picking up the seven year old and taking him to the kitchen. "So am I."
A few seconds later, Liam was there, too. Stomachs were growling, but Jake shook his head when they reached for milk and cereal.
"Today is so special, we're going to make French toast."
Liam's eyes lit up. "I forgot, it's mom's birthday!"
"Mom's fortieth birthday," Jake added, handing the cinnamon to Asher. His desire to make the day special was strong, and now both boys were excited as well.
"I want to crack the eggs," Asher said, climbing up on a chair to see better.
"I want to dunk the bread," said Liam, squeezing in front of Jake.
All three of them were hard at work when you woke up and walked down the hallway. "It smells good out here," you said, announcing your arrival. The three of them all abandoned their post in the kitchen to get to you.
Jake didn't mind sharing your attention with the boys. But when he whispered, "Happy birthday, Darlin'," you kissed him with so much need, he started counting down the hours to bedtime.
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buddierecs · 2 days
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post season 7 buddie fics
in honour of season 8 coming out in a few days, here is a list of mature rated fics that have been released over the hiatus set post season 7. make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
stay here honey (i don't wanna share) by: prettybegins "amidst his son leaving for texas, a sexuality crisis in his 30s, and the possibility of losing his best friend, eddie can’t seem to catch a break." word count: 14k important tags: idiots in love, jealous!eddie diaz, coming out, getting together, minor buck/tommy, miscommunication, meddling, angst, love confessions, first kiss all these broken parts by: woodchoc_magnum "post-season 7, where eddie is struggling with depression, trying to put his life back together, and hopelessly in love with his best friend." word count: 56k important tags: TW: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, angst, roommates, pining!eddie diaz, oblivious!evan buckley, evan buckley take care of eddie diaz, minor buck/tommy, getting together, eventual smut eddie diaz vs the buck's boyfriend agenda by: songbvrd "eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts tommy. as he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants." word count: 23k important tags: pre-relationship, jealous!eddie diaz, tommy kinard bashing, pining, gay!eddie diaz, team as family, therapy world war e(ddie's moustache) by: songbvrd "eddie is a little unhinged since christopher left. when buck gets yelled at for having facial hair, eddie makes a spectacle out of his own." word count: 19k important tags: unhinged!eddie diaz, jealous!eddie diaz, pre-relationship, tommy kinard bashing, mutual pining, emotional cheating, team as family thoughts and dreams that scatter, you pull them all together by: trageddie "chimney has a dream about eddie with a mustache. shenanigans ensue." word count: 11k important tags: mutual pining, jealous!evan buckley, minor buck/tommy, eddie diaz & chimney han friendship, getting together, food kink the christopher diaz reddit takeover by: dylaesthetics "christopher takes out his frustrations with buck and eddie on reddit." word count: 7.5k important tags: social media, christopher diaz is a national treasure, getting together, feelings realisation, tommy kinard bashing, chris never left la like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose by: daisies_and_briars "eddie diaz breakdown, season 7 finale fix it fic" word count: 21k important tags: eddie diaz needs therapy, angst, character study, getting together, hurt eventual comfort, buddie divorce 2.0 i'm holding on (barely) by: cranberrymoons "eddie and buck take christopher home to california; helena and ramon decide to follow" word count: 12k important tags: parenthood, complicated relationships, therapy, coming out, reconciliation, family dynamics, internalised homophobia, self-acceptance, gay!eddie diaz loves a game, wanna play? by: 42hrb "in the aftermath of chris leaving for the summer, buck convinces eddie they should apply for love island together." word count: 57k important tags: reality tv au, love island au, idiots in love, social media, getting together, flirting, making out, pining
i choose you and me, religiously by: instantcaramel "buck has a boyfriend but he can't stop thinking about his best friend." word count: 4.3k important tags: infidelity, texting, buck/tommy break up
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psychics4unet · 3 days
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PAC: How Will Your Future Spouse Treat You in Public and Private? 💖✨
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Instructions: Look at the 3 images of the piles below. Choose the pile that you feel most drawn to. Trust your intuition and select the one that resonates with you the most. Once you have made your choice, scroll down to read the description for the pile you selected.
I put a lot of effort into this reading, so please show some love by leaving comments, likes, reblogs, and follow me! ❤️💬✨
Paid psychic reading (7 questions for just $7) is available here:
Pile 1: The Lovers, Page of Cups, Five of Pentacles The Lovers signifies a strong bond and mutual respect. In public, your future partner will treat you with affection and pride. In private, they’ll express their love deeply, creating a nurturing atmosphere. The Page of Cups represents emotional depth and creativity. They’ll be playful and encouraging, bringing joy to your relationship in both settings. The Five of Pentacles indicates overcoming challenges together, strengthening your connection in private moments. Together, these cards show a loving partner who is supportive and understanding, ensuring a fulfilling relationship in all settings. Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment! ✨❤️🌟
Pile 2: Two of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, The High Priestess The Two of Cups highlights a deep emotional connection and partnership. Your partner will value you openly in public and cherish your bond. In private, they’ll cultivate a deep understanding of your emotions. The Knight of Pentacles brings stability and reliability, indicating that they will be consistent and trustworthy in private moments, creating a solid foundation for your relationship. The High Priestess symbolizes intuition, suggesting they’ll be attuned to your needs both publicly and privately. Altogether, these cards reveal a partner who will create a harmonious and balanced relationship, showing love in every aspect. Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment! 🌙💖✨
Pile 3: Ten of Cups, Ace of Wands, Seven of Pentacles The Ten of Cups represents ultimate happiness and emotional fulfillment. Your partner will bring joy and contentment in both public and private moments, creating a blissful environment. In private, they’ll nurture your emotional bond, focusing on building a life together. The Ace of Wands signifies passion and new beginnings, showing that they’ll be adventurous and excited to explore life with you. The Seven of Pentacles suggests patience and growth, indicating a willingness to nurture your relationship over time, both in public and private. Together, these cards suggest a partner who will celebrate your love openly and invest deeply in your shared future. Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment! 🌈💫🌸
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best. Remember to reblog, like, comment, and follow for more cosmic guidance and positivity!
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monstermoviedean · 2 days
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let's talk about the bridge.
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[spnwiki links known filming locations when available. in all three episodes, this is listed as the spur 4 bridge, lower seymour conservation reserve. it may appear in more episodes, but i'm not sure.]
the bridge appears in 05x02 (good god, y'all!), 13x18 (bring 'em back alive), and 15x20 (carry on). now. do i think this specific bridge was specially chosen each time to communicate a certain message? with respect to the crew, nah, probably not. do i think you can read a pattern here? ooh, yes. tl;dr: you cannot cross the bridge. merely standing on it means the rules have just changed in a reality-bending, fucked-up-beyond-all-repair sort of way. attempting to complete the crossing is an acceptance of the new rules.
in 05x02, the bridge appears as dean and sam are driving into river pass, colorado, the town controlled by war. the bridge is broken. they drive halfway across the bridge and stop. this is the first sign to sam and dean that something is seriously wrong here. this is no normal demon hunt. this is a problem on a scale larger than they can grasp. there's a literal gap between them and the town! they have to leave the car (/home) parked on the bridge and hike in. they are entering uncharted territory.
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when they do, they find people killing each other and seeing demons where there are none. war is altering reality and playing people off each other. jo attacks ellen! rufus attacks sam! the townspeople turn on ellen and dean! you can't trust anyone! but actually...you can. none of them are demons. the danger is real, but it's not what it appears. and no one has ever come across anything like this before.
so what do sam and dean learn? the apocalypse is here. there's no going back. the rules have changed. the tactics they've always used don't work, because they are in a new reality now. and they accept that. while they can't physically walk/drive across the bridge, they do complete the crossing of their own volition. they accept that their world is different now and they will adapt to it.
in 13x18, dean and ketch are in apocalypse world walking near the bridge. they see a group of angels leading a group of shackled, hooded prisoners across the bridge.
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two of the prisoners are executed by the angels right there. they do not cross the bridge. they die playing by the same rules they always have. it's the apocalypse, and they'll fight, but the angels are the angels and it's tough to win as a human. when i started writing this post i thought charlie had crossed the bridge, symbolizing her entrance into a new reality. but she doesn't! the angels fly away with her, without any of them ever crossing the bridge (below are back-to-back screencaps. sorry for the lack of visual but trust me on this)
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charlie doesn't fully cross the bridge. she gets halfway across and then the angels fly her somewhere else. dean is hoping she finishes crossing. if she does, it's like she's crossing into his world. maybe this charlie will be just like the charlie he knew and lost. maybe he can save her. maybe he can undo it. but she doesn't cross and he so he can't get to her!
when he and ketch eventually catch up with her at the silo and escape, charlie hears about dean's universe and chooses to stay in hers. because it's hers. charlie's reality has been fucked with, certainly, but she chooses to accept the reality she knows and stay in it (for now at least). she's not outright rejecting the new reality of parallel universes, but she's also not letting the new reality dictate her actions. it's her home, it's her fight, and she's staying. she doesn't complete the crossing.
so that brings us to. deep sigh. 15x20. dean drives onto the bridge, ostensibly in heaven. he drives about halfway across. and stops. he does not cross the bridge. he gets out of the car and hesitantly walks around the front of it. i won't show you all the screencaps but he touches the car and stays pretty close to it as he walks.
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the last one is about the furthest point he walks across the bridge, give or take. he doesn't go far from the car (which is a good strong symbol of dean's reality and home). you can see there's two vertical posts in the space between him and the car. when the final shot zooms out from him and sam, they are magically further across the bridge, about halfway across, about five vertical posts away.
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dean standing on the bridge means the rules have changed. his world is different now. he cannot go back. this especially works with the next scene, which is the one of the cast and crew in our world saying goodbye. now, can you say that dean dying and going to heaven is the change? sure. but he doesn't cross the bridge. he doesn't accept it. could you say that simply means he's in denial about his death and apparent ascension? i guess. "but what about sam?!" shhhh, not right now.
i think it works much better as dean recognizing there is a new and unknown reality on the other side of that bridge, and instinctively knowing that there is something wrong. that he doesn't want to accept that reality. that if he finishes the crossing, he will be accepting it and will be unable to go back. and sam just appearing out of nowhere, seemingly materializing onto the middle of the bridge without actually taking steps to cross it? somehow moving dean with him so they're both further across the bridge? well maybe that's not real. maybe that's a trick to try to get dean to cross. maybe his acceptance of the new reality will sever his connection to his actual reality - war destroying the bridge in 05x02 certainly did that for the townspeople.
i know others have talked about dean crossing the bridge as an acceptance or an ascension, i'm nowhere near the first person to come up with that. but i do want to call attention to the previous iterations of the bridge. a broken bridge sam and dean cross, only to find war beyond it, an enemy the likes of which they have never seen. a bridge charlie is nearly forced to cross, but which she's taken away from before she can complete it (which would be more likely to lead her to jump realities). and a bridge dean starts to cross, but doesn't. a bridge that appears first in dean's reality, then in apocalypse world, then in dean's heaven, and then in our world, with jensen dressed as dean saying goodbye. and nobody ever crosses that bridge. it's a false promise. you can't do it. all you can do is stand on it and hope you'll be okay, even though you can't go back.
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dark-elegency · 2 days
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DNI:
MINORS
PEDOPHILES/MAPS
BIGOTS
RACEPLAYERS
ANY KIND OF RACIAL SUPREMACISTS
TRUMP SUPPORTERS
REPUBLICANS IN GENERAL TBH
ZOOPHILES
LOLISHO
PEOPLE WHO ARE INTO INCEST
MICRO DICKS (THEY FREAK ME OUT)
YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU BYPASS MY DNI
PEOPLE WHO USE THE TRAUMA OF OTHER'S TO GET OFF
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
My name is Oktavia! I'm 19!
Weird monster fucker lolol
I'm bisexual
I'm genderfluid (all pronouns idc)
I'm mostly just here to be horny, so I may not be the most conversationally active lol. Having said this, don't spam my dms, I'll block you
I'm not afraid to block people, whether that reason is petty or not
I like watching porn and hentai
I don't like eroge games tho, they're boring
I'm 5'3
The only pics I'm comfortable with posting or sending are tit pics, so don't bug me for any other kind, and if you ask I'll ignore you.
Also don't constantly ask for pics, it's annoying
Don't be weird and creepy in my dms, weird and creepiness is only hot when it's fictional men or women doing it
I'm also hypersexual (trauma reasons) so expect a breakdown or two on my feed at some point lol
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Kinks: biting, dry humping, piss/omorashi, praise, degradation, teasing, overstimulation, facefucking, size difference, cnc, nipple play, spanking, breeding, tit fucking, fauxcest (not an invitation for you to tell me about your genuine incestuous fantasies jfc)
Current fictional crushes bc idk:
Lisa Minci (Genshin Impact)
Dr Ratio (Honkai Star Rail)
Pantalone (Genshin Impact)
Misa Amane (Death Note)
John Doe (the game John Doe)
Shota Aizawa (BNHA, I don't even watch or enjoy the show like that, he's just hot lol)
Clay Puppington (Moral Orel)
Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls)
Bowser (Mario)
The Mitachurls (Genshin Impact)
Sampo Koski (Honkai Star Rail)
Osamu Dazai (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Celestia Ludenberg (Danganronpa)
Shane (Stardew Valley)
Emily (Stardew Valley)
Hannibal Lecter (the books, movies, and show)
Springtrap/William Afton (FNAF)
Spring Bonnie (FNAF Into The Pit)
Jeff The Killer (Creepypasta)
Yuri (DDLC)
Current "Celebrity" Crushes:
Mads Mikkelsen
Lady Gaga
Chrissy Chlapecka
Kesha
Ashnikko
Flo Milli
Ayesha Erotica
Ok that's it, now I just have pictures of my tits bc why not lol
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
CashApp (if you feel nice and feel like leaving me a little something 😉): darkelegency
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