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#toxic abomination
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TOXIC ABOMINATION 
by Igor Kieryluk
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furiousgoldfish · 7 months
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Ways abusive parents try to separate you from your human rights:
They threaten to call the police on you if you don't obey them
They threaten you with jail-time and insist that the police will take you away for disobedience
They actually call the police, or emergency services, to create consequences for disobedience
They threaten to 'give you away' to groups of people they deem 'worse' than themselves
They threaten that you'll be kidnapped and sold if you don't obey them
They threaten for you to be put in a home
They threaten you with inhumane living conditions in a home (you won't have you room, you won't have anything, they'll beat you up ever day, etc)
They threaten to institutionalize you if you don't do as they say
They threaten to put you in a mental hospital/psych ward/asylum
They threaten you with court, institutions and government
They convince you that every institution, social service, law enforcement, or any other organized group of people is on their side, and against you, and would fight on their side and enforce their rule over you
They act as if disobeying them is against the law/religion
They insist that nobody will ever want to hire you or pay you a salary
They imply or outright say that it's a waste of space if you were renting out a place or had a place of your own, you do not have the right to occupy your own space in their eyes
They take away your necessities if you disobey them (food, ability to use the bathroom, clothing)
They destroy your property as a form of revenge, and insist it never belonged to you and that they had every right to destroy it
They make sure you're not exposed to educational materials that would inform you that you have a right to safety, food, shelter, and protection from violence and threats
They fight very hard to convince you that what they're doing to you is NOT abuse (saying things like 'you don't even KNOW what abuse is, or 'I'll show you abuse'), and they make sure you're not exposed to any resources or education that would help you recognize abuse
Punishments for standing up for yourself or any attempts to reach justice or point out how unfair, inescapable, hypocritical and painful your situation is
Not allowing you to speak, punishing you for talking back, convincing you that you have no voice and you have no right to defend yourself in any measure
Exposing you to media or real-life situations where children are abused just as badly, or worse than you are, this is a part of grooming they do to convince you that child abuse is normal, acceptable behaviour and not abuse at all
Suggesting that they could do all this to you, and even outright threatening it, implying strongly they know they can get away with it, since others can
Convince you that everyone else has it worse, and repeat how lucky you actually are to have them
They list all of the things that would be happening to you if they weren't so kind to you (you'd be starving on the street, be kidnapped/sold/tortured, die from lack of resources, be abandoned, not survive in any possible way)
Convince you that you're not, in fact, a human being and thus have no business expecting human rights (brainwashing, calling you animal names, calling you demon/satan/monster)
Accuse you repeatedly of being a financial burden, shame you for costing money, demand credit/favours/services/labour/obedience in return for giving you survival resources like food and clothing and school supplies
Neglect to inform you that government is giving them a tax-break for every kid they're supporting and that the society is built so that children would be financially taken care of and do not need to earn their food, shelter or basic necessities
Scare you into believing that every other authority figure (teachers, boss, police, judge, authorities) would treat you even worse and would demand even a higher degree of obedience and submission from you, threaten you with how badly the interaction would go for you if you were to stand up to any other authority figure
Insist that if you were to act with this level of spite, refusal, rejection or disrespect to any other person, they would simply snap and kill you (implied death threat – you're lucky that I'm not ending your life right now)
Act like they own you, to the degree that they feel they have every right to end your life and would not be arrested or blamed if they were to kill you, since you're just their property
Add more if you have lived through other experiences that left you feeling like you had no protection, no rights in the eyes of the law, and no way to recognize your humans rights are being violated. Even one single item on this list means your human rights were kept from you.
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yinyuedijun · 1 month
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ok. turns out i lost track of the chapter length and it's fucking 14k words so maybe i wont post it tonight lol
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wodeworm · 1 year
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88 Grimer, 89 Muk
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gaulicogre · 2 years
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sotshobbypage · 9 months
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siderisxlegacy · 1 year
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Afërdita & Tenebrae
High Priestess of Stewjoni & The Sith Emperor
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camille-lachenille · 2 months
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My toxic trait is that when I encounter the ‘Fëanorian lisp’ in a fanfiction I’ll go check the root of the word to make sure it was originally written with a Þ and it is not a linguistic abomination. For example: Þauron is correct since the archaic form is Thaurond, but saying Þilmaril would send Fëanor in a fiery fit of anger.
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My good/bad friend Tumblr,
What the fuck is this?
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theabysss · 7 months
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Salvation
pairing: sagau!Dottore x Reader
summary: When you die, the whole world collapses for Dottore, but maybe there is still hope?
warnings/tags: gn!Reader, religious + cult themes, description of the execution, description of injuries.
word count: 2.7 k~
note: I'm here again after all this time. (ーー;)ノ Brought you some Dottore, enjoy. Maybe there will be a second part, but I don't promise anything.
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Scarlet blood spurts out and a severed head rolls down. Empty eye sockets are directed to the heavens, a happy smile frozen on your face, anticipating the end of torment, now sealed on your face with an eternal mask. Dottore feels his fingertips go numb, he stares blankly at your head and hair, matted with blood. The mechanical heart, which has never failed before, either skips beats or beats quickly.
His ears feel like they are filled with cotton and he hears no sound, the emptiness fills his heart drop by drop, leaving no space for anything else. What is this feeling called? Dottore tries to distract himself from the picture before his eyes and frantically tries to remember the right word, but his thoughts move slowly like flies stuck in honey. A flash of insight and a bitter taste appears in his mouth. Despair. A drop of blood runs down his chin; he didn’t notice when he bit his lip with his teeth. It seems that only ten seconds have passed since the execution, but to Dottore they seem like an eternity.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices tears running down the Tsaritsa’s face. There is no trace left of her usually cold personality. The harbingers look no better, for each of them there has long been no one left more important than you, and to lose you like that was terrible. More painful than the worst wound they received in life.
The one whom the archons call the Creator begins their speech with an unpleasant grin, full of self-satisfaction. They talks about the impostor and how proud they are of their dear followers for capturing you for him. He is sick of looking at the other archons; the proud appearance of Morax and the other archons makes him rage. It spreads like hot lava from the heart to the hands, convulsively clenching in impatience, the desire to strangle this ancient reptile overwhelms Dottore.
Your most loyal follower huh? The fool who fell for the fake sent by Celestia. He was the first to accept this abomination without doubting it even for a second. You were so different, your auras were completely different. A liar or a pathetic fool, whichever was true, Morax was disgusting.
When the fake finishes their incredibly pathetic speech, it will be their turn: Tsaritsa, the harbingers, the ordinary Fatui, they will all have to lose their lives.
Mentally, Dottore estimates the distance to the platform where Celestia’s puppet stands. Even though his delusion had been taken away just like the rest of the harbingers, that didn't mean he was going to give up. Dottore runs his tongue over teeth, checking their sharpness and squints with satisfaction, feeling the salty taste of blood appearing in his mouth. There is nothing worse than an animal driven into a corner, knowing that there is no chance of salvation, but still intending to resist.
When he is led past the platform to the guillotine, he will take the chance and take revenge. Although it would be more correct to call this the restoration of justice. You were innocent, You were their god.
When the fake solemnly spreads his hands and orders the executions to continue, the sky of Teyvat darkens, anyone could feel the fury of the elements. Dottore exhales in amazement, drops of your blood slowly rising into the air and changing their color from red to gold. The crackling of electricity, the smell of burning, strong gusts of wind, the temperature drops lower every second, plants are spreading across the entire area, bright and screaming about their toxicity, the earth trembles underfoot, on the horizon he can see the sea rising in waves, each of which is higher than the previous ones, threatening to flood the whole harbor.
The fake looks at what is happening in shock, but does not have time to say a single word. Lightning falls from the sky and strikes Celestia's puppet, one after the other in an endless stream, they follow each other. Dottore's heart is filled with gloomy triumph and at the same time unbearable bitterness. If Teyvat could have intervened directly, why didn’t he save you, their Creator? Why didn't the world prevent your death? Or was it your desire to reveal the truth only when nothing will it be impossible to fix it, leaving them all with eternal regret?
When the lightning stops falling from the sky, the fake turns into a smoking piece of charred flesh. The Archons look in surprise at the one they praised as the Creator, understanding slowly appears on their faces. One by one they helplessly turn their heads towards your body. Morax is the first to fall to his knees in front of your head, Dottore sees how his fingers tremble as he hesitates to touch your blood-stained cheek.
Tsaritsa looks contemptuously at each of these traitors. Dottore knows that now she would with great pleasure impale each of the archons on ice spikes if only the shackles did not block her powers.
In a half-strangled voice, Morax orders the Millelith to release all of them.
After being released, Dottore and the rest of the harbingers follow Tsaritsa as she goes to the archons and… your body. Standing next to it is unbearably painful, his eyes cling to every scratch on your face, his heart falls into a cold empty hole, now that he can clearly see your empty eye sockets.
As far as he knew, the Electro Archon was to blame for this; he would have broken every bone in her hands, and then lowered her into a vat of acid and watched as her flesh peeled off from the bones.
Tsaritsa's voice is cold and gloomy when she speaks to the rest of the archons.
"There is no punishment that can atone for your sin and death will not be your salvation. You will live the rest of your eternity in pain, I promise you all that."
A drop of your golden blood slowly moves in the air, Dottore follows their movement with his eyes. Was there a chance to save you, why did everything turn out that way? Why he, Tsaritsa and the other harbingers turned out to be so weak and useless? They too were sinners, those who did not save and they will bear this sin until the end of their lives.
Dottore could still feel the remnants of your aura, faintly, but he could, and he closed his eyes, absorbing this feeling, which was soon to dissipate. Or not? Dottore's eyes widened, an arrow of hope piercing his heart. Your spirit was still here, weak, fading, still existing, attached to drops of golden blood.
"The Creator has not left us yet, his spirit is still here."
The face of Tsaritsa and the other archons lit up with faint hope, their gazes were directed at him, all-consuming, unwavering attention emanated from them, however, such a gaze was directed at Dottore from everyone who was present in the square.
"Collect all the blood, not a single drop should be lost; the soul of the Creator is attached to it. I can try to save Their Grace, but we must act quickly before their spirit dissipates."
Dottore is determined. He will succeed, he cannot fail, he will not make mistakes, just not in such an important matter as this. Despite the mental pep talk he gave himself, Dottore's palms become treacherously cold and he begins to nervously tap a rhythm with his fingers on his thigh.
He needed a workplace, his laboratories would be ideal, but he was not sure that your spirit would survive the trip to Snezhnaya. He had to act quickly, Dottore could feel the grains of time slipping through his fingers.
When he and the clones find themselves in the silence of the temporary laboratory provided by Qixing, Dottore allows himself only one nervous sigh before taking control of his emotions. The time for all the emotions will come later, when he successfully returns life to you.
He begins to give instructions to the clones, who are preparing everything necessary for Dottore's most important work. It’s good that he managed to drive out all the traitors of the archons and other personalities who tried to be present, even Tsaritsa, nothing should distract him, the price of a mistake is too great.
The punishment of the archons was temporarily postponed, Tsaritsa said that when you become alive again, you yourself will determine the punishment for these traitors. It's when, not if. Now the whole seven had to destroy Celestia, which had committed the unforgivable.
Your headless body lying on the operating table looked foreign, wrong of all places, you should never have ended up here. You should have enjoyed the balls held in your honor, the gifts offered to you by your followers.
To begin with, it was worth understanding whether it made sense to try to restore your human shell or was it already in a completely unusable state? A severed head is a big obstacle to the restoration of your body, but Dottore had no guarantee that your soul could take root in a synthetic body, and the ability to create it in a short time, so there was only one possibility left. It was necessary to attach your head back to the body, check the body for damage to internal organs and, if there were any, heal them. Before you begin the process of returning your soul to the mortal coil.
The test results showed, although not the most comforting results, but everything was not so bad, of course, with the exception of the severed head. General severe exhaustion of the body, which will be corrected by the correct diet after your resurrection, which will definitely be successful. It couldn't fail. After all, if he failed, would there be any point in his existence, in the existence of nations, in Teyvat? Without you, nothing made sense.
Dottore shakes his head, driving away bad thoughts and returns to work. In order for the head to subsequently work as it should, each nerve and blood vessel had to be connected correctly. Painstaking work that requires a lot of patience, well, Dottore never complained about its lack.
Hour after hour, the clock ticked peacefully in the background, measuring time, while Dottore and his clones painstakingly put everything back together as it was originally. The last batch of stitches signals the end of such a complex operation. The muscles of his back ached in protest against the same position for hours. Dottore looked at his work satisfactorily, touching the stitches and then immediately pursed his lips in regret. This is not how it was supposed to be. He walked over to the table and gave himself an injection that instantly banished any fatigue and made his mind crystal clear again. In a day he will definitely feel very bad when the kickback comes, but you were definitely worth it. In fact, if he were now offered to give his life in exchange for yours, he would agree without hesitation.
It was time to start the second stage, it was necessary to do something with your eyes. Unfortunately, all he could offer you now were temporary prosthetics, not as advanced as those he and the clones used. He will definitely replace them later with better ones.
One of the many things he regretted was that he didn't get to see your eyes, they should have been gorgeous. In legends they were described as unearthly, as if entire constellations and the endless night sky were reflected in them.
As gently as possible, Dottore cleaned your eye holes from dirt and blood, carefully stretched the wires to the back lobe of the brain, to which the optic nerves are attached, and finally inserted the prostheses. Dentures you should never have. The color looked inappropriate, too artificial, alien, wrong, Dottore swallowed dryly. He sits down on a chair nearby and wearily hides his face in his hands. Fatigue, not physical, but moral, covers him in a wave and the heaviness in his chest does not allow him to breathe. He knows that it will only disappear when you take your breath and your heart beats again.
Dottore was never particularly religious in his youth, he was interested in the story of the creation of the world and definitely admired you, but there was never any real reverence in his feelings then. Everything gradually began to change when he joined Fatui. Every year he learned more and more about you and his devotion to you only grew, gradually completely capturing his heart until there was nothing left in him except you.
All the humanity that was in him, no matter how little it was, was intended only for you. All his achievements were dedicated to you. He all belonged to you, only you. And at the moment there was nothing he could want more than to see you alive. The same desire burned with a passionate flame in the eyes of his clones standing nearby.
The last stage is the most important. Dottore carefully inserts a needle into your vein and begins to pour your blood back into your body. He feels your spirit waver, as if you doesn’t want to return.
He looks over your body; bright blue veins stand out on your pale skin, there are various bruises and scratches on your body, which he, of course, treated, but to his regret the healing was not instantaneous. This picture breaks him into fragments, leaving a cold emptiness instead of his mechanical heart, his inability to correct what happened. Was there any point in all his knowledge that he had been collecting for centuries if now it was almost completely useless at the most important moment of his life. All that Dottore can do now is pray, pray to you, to the elements, to Teyvat. Please come back, please, please, please…
He knew it was a selfish desire, this world wasn't worthy of you, they weren't worthy of you, not after what happened. But hope, a feeling that had not come to him for a very long time since the time of the academy, flared up in his soul. The last drops of blood poured back into your body and deathly silence fell in the laboratory. Those few seconds when nothing happened seemed like an eternity, frightening, cold, hopeless to Dottore. The claws of the unknown tore his heart apart, did he succeed? Would you like to return?
Your trembling breath and wide-open eyes bring Dottore into a state close to euphoric. You were alive again, relief fills him and makes him dizzy with happiness. He feels something wet rolling down his cheek and wipes it away in confusion. A tear. A lot of time had passed since the last time he cried, and he had definitely never had tears of happiness until that moment. Well, you always made him feel an unusual amount of different emotions.
When you go into a coughing fit, one of the clones instantly brings you a mug of water and looks at your face with concern. You take a few greedy sips, and then turn your confused gaze on him, gradually filling with fear. Dottore's heart clenches unpleasantly, this is not how you were supposed to look at him. Not what he wants and not how it should be.
You try to say something, but again break into a cough. Dottore instantly approaches, he wants… to console you, to assure you that you are safe, but the words lie like dead weight on his tongue. He carefully reaches out to your hand, but freezes millimeters from your skin. He felt confused, useless. You will probably be uncomfortable with the touches of a sinner like him.
You carefully peer into his face, by the way your gaze moves along the features of his face, it seems to him that you are looking for an answer to some very important question for you. And after a few moments, the answer seems to satisfy you, a relieved sigh escapes your lips and you reach out with your hand to his, carefully placing your hand in his.
Dottore swallows dryly, warmth rising up his arm from where you touch.
"Everything will be fine, Your Grace. Now everything will be fine, I promise."
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Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ノ
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nyanggk · 2 years
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PICTURE PERFECT: PARK JAYS F*CK LIST — p. js
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SYNOPSIS park jay is known around your campus as a resident fuck boy. him and his friends compete in a game wherein by the end of the year, they have to complete their fuck list in order to win, but what happens when jay meets a girl who can resist his charms?
PAIRING rugby player jay × art club member reader
GENRE smut with plot, highschool au, romance , enemies to lovers, romance comedy kinda
WARNING(S) profanity, dark humour, discrimination, dubcon, alcohol consumption, bullying, smut, dom/sub dynamics (sub!jay, dom!reader), making out, corruption, degradation, male masturbarion, oral, nude painting, bulge kink, marking
WC. 28k+
— this is suppsoed to be stereotypical, yes ㅠㅠ it isn't meant to be misogynistic. it's just the world I built them in. yn/I literally stated that this is her highschool and this is what she noticed. don't send asks if you're gonna go through with it with anonymous.
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In all the years you spent dwelling inside the same old boring highschool, you've come to the conclusion that in every campus, there's always three breeds of people paying amongst you that seem to avoid the brink of extinction; the slutty cheerleaders, the attention seeking fangirls, the ones that annoy you, the varsity jocks.
These varsity players are your typical ball heads who have their minds wrapped around the game and only the game. They're one way ticket to college is their varsity scholarship and inevitably making the dull-witted excuse to throw away everything related to academics and instead, centering their focus on their balls. It's stereotypical for you to say that, you acknowledge that for sure, but you can't help but speak the truth as most, if not, all of them are the same.
Albeit, yes, these are the usual qualities found in these ball fondlers, but there's a different kind laying amongst these godforesaken creatures that's even more toxic, more abominable, and those are the varsity fuckboys. 
These varsity fuckboys are always entitled, period. There's never a day in their lives where they don't stop talking about their latest slutty agendas or how awestrickingly good they are at playing the game. It also doesn't really help how their fan base— which consists of ignorant, ovulating, and in heat females, not only throw compliments their way, but also themselves at every passing moment towards these good for nothing jocks. It's as if these people have lost all sense of their humanity and became objects that do nothing but lurk around the school grounds, waiting to be inserted with a schlong and become teenage mothers. 
Do they even have a sense of self respect anymore?
Going back on track, it's a great dismay that all these complimenting words go straight to their head, making it even bigger.
Shame that not one ounce of it went to their dicks.
In accordance to that, yearly, these pubescent rats participate in an event called "Picture Perfect" wherein they hand pick at least more than ten different names of those who study in their school who, by the end of the year, they have to "connect" with. They mix them inside a bowl and let each one of them draw one by one. Once that person has their own paper, they have a set of rules they have to follow;
disclaimer, as per everyone's agreement and preference, only girls will be put on the list.
1. For proof, take a picture of the girl in bed or wherever while the two of you are fucking.
2. Threesomes are allowed if both players have the same person on their list.
3. Varsity players with girlfriends can't participate— unless you're Jake. We don't want to be caught in your drama.
4. First one to complete their list is the winner.
5. Failure to comply with these rules will get you disqualified from the competition indefinitely.
With that said, they have the whole school year to finish this list. Now, a year may seem too long for some, however, with the mix of competitions and practices, there's only a handful of times in a week that these boys can have a day off and hunt for their prey.
No one remembers when this whole shenanigans started nor do they remember who started it, the only thing that matters is the game and who comes out on top. They take this seriously— too seriously, you think.
For the record, they say that this game is only for fun and that no one should take it all too seriously when they lose. The prize is an ego boost for christ sake so which logical person would try so hard in such an idiotic game? If that's what you thought then you're clearly a normal person with a normal thought process along with a naturally working brain. However, it's safe to say that if you think these boys we're even one bit of the word "normal," then you're completely wrong because these ball players have rugby balls for brain cells and will do everything they can to win; showing off is a big enough prize for them to try their hardest.
A rugby team is normally composed of fifteen players. However, for this year, there will only be a total of 9 participants as the other six already either have girlfriends that they were strongly committed to— unlike Sim Jake who changed girlfriends more often than he showered, or like Riki and Jungwon who were still too young to be doing any funny business, and like Sunoo who didn't want to participate in some pathetic child's play. 
Moving on, one of the many other foolish participants in this wretched dog show is Park Jongseong, otherwise known as Jay amongst his peers and the students of Decelis High. It's his second year as an athlete playing rugby, meaning this year, it'll be his second time competing. As you can tell, he wasn't so lucky on his first try, barely getting pass three when he had ten on his check list, but this year, he's determined to do whatever it legally takes to come out on top.
"Alright, dickheads!" Their captain, Lee Heeseung, calls out. 
Currently, all the willing participants are sitting around a mess of multiple chairs and tables merged together as they busy themselves with writing the names for the person who'll draw their paper.
"Times up. Pass your papers." Heeseung commands with folded arms, impersonating a teacher who's instructing their students. He fetches a clear bowl and gestures for all nine members to put their papers in. Shaking the bowl, he continues on saying, "Now, as last year's winner, I strongly advise all of you to have fun and not take things overboard."
"Aw c'mon, Cap," Jay mocks in a whine. "You know everyone takes this game seriously, don't you?"
Heeseung rolls his eyes, shaking the bowl in circles. "I know but I'm still obligated to say that so I won't be involved in the fallout when one of you idiots decide to do something stupid, again." He says, eyeing Choi Beomgyu from across the table. All the puppy-faced boy does is smile at his coach sheepishly, earning snickers and nudges from the people around him as he scratches the back of his head guiltily.
Last year, Beomgyu took the game a little too seriously. It was already his third year in the rugby team and he still hasn't won. He felt antsy, wanting to experience the glory of winning, and so, knowing that Heeseung was in the lead, he did whatever he could to stop him from finishing his list. He hid the girls from the other, he told them he had aids, that he cums too fast, that he likes being treated like a dog in bed, and a whole lot more dumb shit just to keep Heeseung from winning. But all his efforts were inevitably for nothing as by the time winter break was over, Heeseung had won, laying out all the pictures he took of his one night stands out on the table at lunchtime with a cocky smirk plastered across his perfect face.
One by one, the boy's take their turns fishing for a piece of paper inside the bowl. As Jay grasps his own in the palm of his hands, he takes a look at the others' expressions when they open their own checklist. 
Some cheered and some winced. Seeing the latter made Jay's confidence run through the roof, thinking that he was so lucky that he already had the upper hand on the others without having to even take a look at his own paper.
"Mark Lee?!" Choi Yeonjun screams in outrage. "Bitch! Is this even allowed?!" He genuinely asks in an outraged tone, however, the others just simply burst out laughing at his predicament, not providing him with a coherent answer.
"Cap?" He calls out to the younger, voice pleading. 
Heeseung sighs out seemingly tired of the whole ordeal as he pinches the bridge of his sharp nose, scrunching his eyebrows together. "I'll change it on my own, hyung." He assures the older in a low tone, making it so that Yeonjun was the only person who got to hear what he said.
"I thought we agreed on keeping it strictly to girls?" He said, crossing his arms once again and repeatedly tapping his feet on the ground to show his annoyance. "So, which idiot was it?"
At that question, continuous screams of denial and bursts of cackling laughter erupt, occupying the small room, but Jay tunes them all out as his eyes zero onto the lack of names written on his checklist. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as usually there were at least ten different names listed on every checklist because everyone wanted to make it harder for the person who drew it. However, his list only had one.
Although writing less than ten names isn't against the rules, it's certainly out of the ordinary as he doubts anyone on his team had a heart made of gold and be that merciful.
Before he could tear his eyes away from the paper though, he caught sight of a note written beside it.
1. YN — goodluck on this one bro ;) tell me how getting pegged feels like, I kinda wanna try it soon.
Looking at the note with a mix of confusion and disgust, Jay wonders why this girl seemed so unfamiliar. 
In all his years spent in the same school, he's never heard of anyone with that name before. Granted, he doesn't usually pay attention to anyone other than the boys, much less try to remember the names of the girls he fucks around with in school. He thinks they're all irrelevant and are just getting close to them because they want the attention and fame being the girlfriend— or even an acquaintance, of a varsity player gives them. But the thing is, for the sake of the competition, he has to know who you are, however, no matter how far back in his memories he searches, he still can't seem to remember who that girl is. 
Eventually his curiosity takes over and asks "Who's YN?" while showing them his list and gesturing towards the only name written on it.
Hearing his question, the chattering stops and their gazes focus on the tip of Jay's finger. Jake is the one that answers his question, the rest of them stare with their mouths slightly agape. "You don't know YN? From the art club?"
When all Jay does is shake his head, the boys stare at him in a mix of wonder and shock, baffled by how oblivious the boy is when it comes to you. 
"Dude, how do you not know YN?" Park Sunghoon asks in disbelief. Jay only shrugs at him in reply, wondering what the big deal about this girl was. 
"Bro, Jay, whoever wrote YN down is absolutely bad-shit crazy. I got her on my list last year and she was the fucking reason I lost." Choi Soobin says, groaning. "I was so close to winning as well!" He bursts out, slumping on the back of his chair as he pouts.
Everyone knows about the rugby team's yearly antics and you're ashamed to say that nearly everyone is ecstatic whenever that time of the year comes— especially the whores. It gives them the not so once in a lifetime chance to sleep with the hottest varsity player on campus.  
However, as the loner with one singular friend that you are, you'd like to say that you're different from everyone else— and you are not saying that so you could be the IRL version of YN from a Wattpad book made in 2013. You don't feel excitement coursing through your veins when the year starts. Your panties don't drop at the sight of them all sweaty and dirty while practicing. You don't try to manifest your name to be on the list so they could flirt with you, get in your pants, and then leave you cold and naked when they get what they want. They're just boys who can play one filthy sport, what's so mind blowing about that?
You hate rugby. It's not just some petty thing, you despise it with your whole mind, body, and soul. You can't ever stand that sport and you hate the fact that all school funds go to that dumb piece of shit and not your precious art club. If only your school treated the art club the same way they sucked that god forsaken sports dick off then maybe— no, not maybe, then for sure, your school would have much more elegance.
God! Just saying the word "rugby" makes your tongue bitter. Not to mention, the players! They're just horrendous; full of pride, ego, and everything bad. You just can't stand breathing in the same air.
So last year, when misfortune dawned upon you and they had the audacity to involve you in their wretched game, you blew up; like a volcano waiting to burst and set fire to the whole nation. 
That year, Kang Taehyun, a rugby jock, approached you and started shamelessly flirting with you while you were having a peaceful time replicating the Mona Lisa. You erupted into a fit of anger and threw your palette covered with fresh paint onto his white varsity jacket. 
Every single member of the rugby team wore that shit everywhere they possibly could. It's as if to show his underlings that he is superior. You knew it was for their weird Picture Perfect event, that's why you acted in such a barbaric way. And for the record, you regret none of it— not even when you got sent to the principal for a 3 hour scolding session.
You know who that boy is. His name is Park Jongseong and he's in the same year as you, meaning that you get to see him too many times a week for your liking. Why such a strong distaste for the boy you ask? Oh, that's because you already know what breed the scoundrel is. If that jersey wrapped around his lean body doesn't scream jock to you then you don't know what else. 
Word around campus spreads fast so even though you detested hearing useless gossip, you're somewhat thankful that Liz is such a chatterbox because through her, you're able to know who everyone is in the first few months of school. Truthfully, you have yet to decide whether this trait of hers should be considered as a con or not. For example, last year, she had the bright idea of telling you that Park Sunghoon slept with a 40 year old milf, offering to spill you the rest of the details— not like she knew what the word 'milf' meant. She just tells you whatever new story she hears. Needless to say, you didn't want to hear any other features of that story. So, you weren't surprised when you caught sight of one of them throwing curious glances your way on one Monday morning whilst you were talking to your best friend, Liz, in front of your locker. 
It annoyed you how he was looking at you and it made your skin crawl. Already, you could feel waves of nauseous chills skimming down your spine, making you shudder as no doubt that if he continues, your breakfast is going to spill to the floor. You could only guess that he's interested in you because you're on his list and that he's trying to make a move on you. 
Before, you were used to them glancing at you out of curiosity. It's a normal thing to do when you see someone pretty on campus, but no one ever made a move to introduce themselves. Truth be told, these guys never messed with you until last year, when they found you're a hard girl to get with. 
If your hunch is correct and you're in fact on the list once again then you could only wish him good luck because you aren't interested.
To you, the boy throws what looks to be a constipated looking smile your way and your lips tug further down in a frown, suddenly feeling your stomach get upset. 
Although taken aback by your expression, Jay ignores it and persists to throw a charming smile your way, this time adding a small wave— both of which you turn down, only replying with the same frown on your face as you bore holes on his face with your so-called "resting bitch face." His face falters when he realises that you've indirectly turned down his gesture, scratching the back of his head in concealed embarrassment as he turns back to his group of friends as if nothing happened.
"Why's that psycho looking at me?" You ask, cutting Liz off on her rant and nudging your head towards where the guy stood.
Liz follows your stare and without warning, she squeals, jumping in place with excitement when he catches sight of the boy. "Oh my gosh, YN! Jay was looking at you?!"
With your face scrunched up in disgust, you look at your lifeline and wonder if it's too late to change friends because if it isn't, you'd pick that snot covered geek with braces back in 3rd grade any day. 
"Oh don't look at me like that." She says, slapping your arm. "He is totally your type!" 
Gagging, your gastric reflexes are about to show you just how displeased your whole body is with that sentence. "My type?! What do you mean by 'my type'?! Whatever my type is, it is certainly not that!" You say, repeatedly making frustrated air quotes whenever you say the word 'my type.'
"He is! Look," She persists, tangling her arms with yours and pulling you to gaze at where Jay stood. "Nice jawline, feminine and cat-like eyes, pretty lips, prominent nose, and last but certainly not the least, look at that stunning birthmark on his neck! Don't tell me you don't want to lick that." She dares on.
Now, you're ashamed. Where have you gone wrong in raising your best friend and how did she become such a disgusting simp?! 
To some extent, you suppose she is quite right. Usually, guys like him would be your type. If only that varsity jacket wasn't wrapped around his body then maybe, just maybe, you would've shot your shot by now. To them, that jacket signifies authority, fame, and an excessive amount of self importance. One glance at these arrogant motherfuckers and you already know they're narcissistic and my God, you hate it.
The first ring of the school bell finally pulls you out of your murderous glare, eyes diverting from the annoying jock and moving towards your schedule instead. You sigh gratefully once you see that your first class is literature. Not only is literature class the only subject you enjoy, you also like to think that teaching students the power of words and poetry brings back some of your schools integrity.
With Liz, you travel towards the classroom with your hand possessively trapped in hers. Liz likes physical touch and even though you aren't the kind to be touchy with anyone, you'll let a few of your principles be set aside for your dearest best friend. 
Your face stays neutral and observing while the boy, supposedly named as Jay, takes the seat beside yours. He ignores the complaints of your blonde headed friend as if she wasn't even there. He continues to pay no heed to Liz and when she realises he won't be moving any time soon, your friend leaves with a hmph and stomps towards the seat right behind yours. 
As you enter the room, you tell Liz to pick a seat somewhere near the front and beside the windows. She nods, understanding your love for the subject and setting aside her dislike so you could have fun.
You sigh comfortably in satisfaction as you skim your hands on the newly polished face of your desk, only to be disrupted later on when you hear your friend shouting in a pouty way. 
Sulking, Liz taps at your back, hoping to get some of your attention and to her delight, you turn your head towards her while your front is in Jays view. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes blatant stare at your neck, you focus on whatever gossip Liz tells you, humming and nodding every now and then to show her that you were listening. 
No matter how long you and Liz have been talking, Jays fixation on you doesn't waver, only intensifying within the passing moments. Jay stares at every crevice of your body that's shown. Your neck and the exposed skin of your collarbone is what draws Jay in; pretty and plush, making it so nice to look at. Each muscle clenches as you continue to crane your neck towards your friend and it only takes his mind into a deeper frenzy, thoughts occupied with your skin and the desire to touch it. The boys mouth somewhat begins to salvate, making him take a loud gulp as he feels himself grow hotter and flustered. 
Knowing how much he's been ogling at you while you're just there striking simple pose, he finds himself kind of embarrassing in this situation as he's never been one to be so easily riled up. But what can he do? it's something his body can't help but feel and the worse thing is, you weren't even doing any of it on purpose. It's all in his mind and Jay can only blame his teenage hormones for the fantasies it's creating.
Eventually, the boys strong fixation on you gets disrupted by your movements, pulling him out of his trance as now, instead of craning your neck and semi twisting your body to talk to your friend, he's met with your judging and questioning gaze. You continue to stare at Jay, cocking your eyebrows up as if to question whether he had anything to say. Still awestruck, the boy fails to form anything coherent and as a result of being caught, his cheeks start to flare up a sweet pinkish colour, one that you would've cooed at if he wasn't who he is.
Now, you're annoyed as while Liz is playing on her phone, there's an annoying jock sitting beside you. You huff feeling the symptoms of boredom spread through you. Picking up your pencil, you opt to scribble on your sketchpad, the small flower that laid idly on your table becoming your muse.
You were too busy sketching when out of the blue, you hear a deep voice speak up from beside you, ruining the serenity you've made for yourself.
"Life is the flower for which love is the honey, don't you think?" The man beside you cites, trying to mimic a poet citing his own poem. He picks up the small flower that strayed on top of your desk with his nimble fingers and gives it to you with the same smile he showed you prior to this moment. "It's a quote from Shakespeare. Have you heard of it?"
'This is it.' He thought in his head, thinking that since you were into art and literature, you were probably screaming on the inside right now because of Jays romantic gesture. He watched you as you eye the flower in his hands, his ego swelling with pride thinking that he's won you over. You repeatedly look back between his face and the flower before heaving out a small sigh. He watches your face morph into the most charming smile Jay had ever seen and at that moment, the boy felt something tugging on his heart strings. 
In awe of your beaming beauty, he sat frozen on his seat as you leaned closer to Jay, taking the small flower in your hands. His breath couldn't help but hitch at the slightest contact of your fingers brushing against his as he continued to stare at you in wonder as you inspected the flower, twirling it between your long fingers.
"That's sweet, Jay." You compliment, looking at the said boy. He struggles to maintain eye contact with you, once again feeling overwhelmingly hot under your gaze— not to mention the way his name rolled out so smoothly out of your mouth. "But…" Dragging out the word, you leave Jay in suspense.
He's at the edge of his seat as waits for you to continue, cheeks flaring up as you smile at him with such a sickening amount of sweetness. Jay thinks you're going to finally flirt back at him. That all his friends' words were untrue and in reality, you're actually just a shy tsundere. 
But Jay was proven wrong when you pressed the flower between your fingers, crushing it with little to no thought. "...That's from Hugo, not Shakespeare. I suggest you get your facts straight before you try to get inside my pants." You finish.
The sweet moment between the two of you ended the moment those words left your mouth and pierced its way through Jay's confidence. With your eyes, you dared for him to retaliate, but just like how you expected, Jay was too embarrassed that his brain couldn't even process what was happening. Gone was the pretty smile that Jay's so head over heels for as now, an annoyed expression falls upon your features— a complete one-eighty in just a span of five seconds. 
"Also, do me a favor and leave me out of your dumb fucking game."
After that, Jay was too ashamed to stay in your presence. So, wanting to keep the rest of his dignity, he left with his head bowed down. The action prohibited you from seeing his reddened face which he was thankful for. Instead, he made his way towards the back of the class and picked a seat a few chairs behind you, making it so that he could still watch you freely from afar without your knowledge.
For the sake of his pride, he tried to think that he only left because class was starting and because he didn't want to be stuck in the same seat when he's done doing his business with you. However, he knows those words were all lies— a way for him to deny his blossoming feelings.
Jay can't seem to understand how you made his heart pound so hard, ear deafening from the relentless beats that was orchestrated by your mere presence. He's not one to blush like an idiot in front of someone and he's certainly not one to feel like his heart had been thrown until beaten and battered by one negative gesture. You make him feel something foreign, something he's never felt before in his life. It scares him in a way; not being able to put into words how he's feeling. There's something about the way you feel so strongly disgusted by him that makes him want to provoke you even more, wanting to see more ways you'll respond. He sees the fire crackling behind your eyes whenever he looks at you so why is it that even though he knows he'll get burnt, he's still dying to touch you? 
There's clearly something wrong with him.
He knows it's unhealthy; wanting to get closer to you when you clearly don't like him, but he can't help it. He's drawn to you in some mind consuming type of way and he's willing to do anything just to get an ounce of your attention. 
His feelings are still confusing to him because just hours ago, his mind was so enveloped in winning, willing to do whatever it takes just to have you in bed and get the glory he so despretely wants. But now that he's gotten a glimpse of what it's like to be occupied by you, the objective has changed. It's not about the game anymore because fuck the game. Right now, he couldn't give a shit about winning— okay, maybe a just little bit. 
Of course, he still has the game to thank for introducing you to him and he still wants to rub his victory onto his teammates' face like Heeseung did when he won. But right now, all he wants is to have you.
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It's your second month back in school and Jay hasn't let a single moment in literature class pass by without him trying to get on your nerves. It seems as if God has put your morals to the test because each time he opens his mouth, your hand seemed to itch for some impact, preferably on someones face.
His routine would always be to sit beside you when class hasn't started yet, try and build up a conversation with you in which you'd reply with something dry, he'd ignore it and continue to talk about his day whether it would be about practice, rugby, or just how his day went in general, and then go back to his permanent seat when the bell rings.
If you're being honest, in the past you would've been so dejected, disgusted, and nauseated by the fact that you're even within five metres in range of one of them.
When have you gone wrong in raising yourself and where have your principals gone?
Granted, if the opportunity to get rid of him ever came, would you still take it?
They're still insufferable, you know that for sure. But after finding out that no matter how hard you try and kick Paek Jay out of your life, there's no reason to keep trying anymore and that you've completely given up. You've tried everything you could imagine just to steer away from him. There was no way in hell that you'd ever change classes so instead, you opted to convince the boy to work his magic and change classes and go somewhere, preferably, far far far away from you. But of course, as you can tell, that didn't work. There was also a time where you tried to ignore him in hopes of him finally giving up, however, to no avail, he was persistent and didn't relent. You've also begged Liz to not let Jay switch seats with her before class, but to your luck, your best friend seems to have her mind wrapped in the fantasy that you and Jay are just perfect for eachother.
She kept on giving you the reason that God would bring her back as cockroach if she got in the way of your blossoming love. So believe me when I say, you've tried it all. 
"Hey, YN." He greets cooly, casually sliding in Liz's seat. Already used to it, your friend just shrugs, momentarily switching seats with the boy as she knows that he'll eventually switch back.
Without turning your head to face him, you only reply with a hum, respectfully acknowledging him despite your dislike.
Jay ignores your clear lack of interest before he heaves out a deep loud sigh. He throws his head back, adam's apple protruding at the middle of his throat as you peek at him brushing his hair back.
It's hot. He's hot. But you bury that feeling deep down, shaking the thought away. You return your focus towards where your phone lay in the middle of your desk. The screen opens, a quiet beep catching your attention. You were about to ignore it, suddenly feeling too tired to socialise, but to your dismay, it doesn't only catch your attention but also of the man sitting beside you. 
"Mrs. Hwang sent you a message, YN." He informs you, head now resting comfortably on your desk. "Should I open it?"
He leans over towards your side, an arm sliding on top of your desk, resting in front of you while the other rests behind you, on top of your seat like a boyfriend trying to gatekeep his girlfriend. You would've tried shaking him off if you weren't aware of the fact that he would put it back either way. His head is right next to yours as he eyes the message on your phone and you can't help but catch a whiff of the delightful scent of his shampoo. Trying to stay composed, you sit idly in your seat as you watch Jay scan through the notification on your lock screen as if it was his own.
You scoff in disbelief, rolling your eyes to feign annoyance. "No, gimme that." You say, snatching the phone away from his view.
Pouting, Jay sits up from his seat, suddenly feeling more invasive than usual as he rests his head on top of your shoulder to watch you reply to the message your art teacher had sent you. Feeling vexed, you shrug your shoulders harshly, trying to shake Jay off of you only to fail. After multiple times of trying to take him off, you finally heave out a defeated sigh, gathering all the composure you have left in your body to not beat him up. Eventually coming to terms at the fact that Jay isn't going to let you have your own space, you accept your fate and let him stay there as you tap your fingers on the screen of your phone to answer your teachers request.
Mrs Hwang (Art Teacher): YN, we still don't have a male muse for the portrait project tomorrow. Do you mind asking some friend of yours to volunteer?
Is she insane or just totally oblivious? Everyone knows you're an art geek loner. You're already thankful to have one friend permanently stuck to your hip so, when did she ever get the impression that you had more?
"Ooh, looking for a male muse?" You jump at the sudden voice, completely forgetting the boy that laid on your shoulder against your will. 
"Can you stop meddling with other peoples businesses?" You say, now feeling actually annoyed because you have to worry about having to find a muse for your art class. It's not even like you can say no as well. Your teacher loves and adores you. At this point, she treats you like her own kid because she acknowledges the drive you have to share your painting with the world. She also said that she'd be happy to offer you an internship with one of her fancy artist friends once you're done with school and you just can't mess up your chances.
Ignoring your clear irritation, Jay continues, "I can be your muse." He suggests, smirking. 
"In your dreams, Jongseong." You say clicking your tongue whilst not meeting his eyes.
"Hey!" Jay exclaims. "I told you to call me Jay not Jongseong." He presses on, tone persistent as he leans his face closer in order to persuade you. However, you don't give him an ounce of your attention, refusing to give him the satisfaction. And so, he chases you, body unconsciously pressing onto your side while he busies himself. Amidst your teasing, you don't realise this either, too busy trying to suppress the grin fighting to form between your lips.
Your playfulness lasts for a few more moments before Jay finally grunts out in defeat, letting his head fall on top of your desk with a thud. "YN, look at me." He whines like a child.
Rolling your eyes as you heave out what seemed to Jay as a deep and tired sigh, you finally turn your face to look at him. A deadpan expression is on your face as you await his next actions. Seeing that you've finally given in to his request, Jay feels his stomach start to flutter, tickling him and making him feel bubbly. The smile on his face is adorable, pleased that he's victorious and this time, you fail to keep the corners of your lips from twitching upwards.
Even your laugh is beautiful to him and he can't help but want to hear more. He's tempted to crack a joke or do something dumb in order to push you over the edge and reveal more of the amazing sounds that comes out of your mouth. But he decides against it, thinking that instead of making you laugh, he might overstep his boundaries and ruin his chance with you— well, that's him thinking he has one.
Seeing a genuine version of your smile is what sets Jays heart into a frenzy, a billion flutters that set his heart soaring through the roof. Flustered, Jay ducks his head in an attempt to hide his giddiness from you. However, he inevitably fails when he hears a chuckle escape from your mouth. His head shoots up, eyes wide and unbelieving. His heart seemed to have accelerated faster than what he could imagine, face now burning a deep red.
Clearing his throat while fixing his blazer, he resumes. "I'll be your muse." He says, tone trying to show you that his decision is final.
"No, Jay." Despite being delighted that you've used his prefered name like he's asked you too, he still frowns. Again, his pout is adorable and you almost want to give in and let him take on the job.
"But, why?" He whines, shaking defiantly in his seat. "I'll be a great muse!"
Notwithstanding, you roll your eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time this whole interaction. "I said no." You say firmly as if commanding the boy. 
His adorable pout turns into a bigger frown upon being rejected. However, the expression doesn't stay for long before it morphs into one you can only assume as mischievous as his plump lips turn into a plotting smirk, eyes gleaming with playfulness.
Seeing that, you squint your eyes at him, brows furrowing as you try to depict what's behind that look. "I swear to god, Jay. If you're planning something…" 
"What? I'm not doing anything." In contradiction to his words, his face tells you that he is plotting something. If it isn't the way his smirk doesn't relent and the way his eyes still bask in the same glint, it's the way he finishes his reply with a teasing tone, clearly choosing to defy you despite your clear warning.
You were about to call him out on his actions when you're suddenly being cut off by the bell ringing and not even a second later, Jay is pushing back his seat and striding towards his own. With his hands in his pockets, there's not a doubt in your mind that he's still wearing the same smug look as he sits down on his seat. You eye him from afar and when he notices this, he gives you a curt nod, brows rising upwards as if to ask you if you needed anything as he grinned.
Why are you so against Jay being the art clubs muse, you ask?
Truthfully, you should've been ecstatic to find out that Jay, one of the hottest guys on campus— Liz's words, not yours, wanted to volunteer. So why are you prohibiting him from doing so?
Is it because you only want the two of you's interactions to strictly be inside this classroom and nowhere else? No, not really. Is it because you're ashamed to be seen by your other club members being associated with his type? Deep down, you know that's not true. In fact, you're sure that when Jay steps inside your club, he'll be bombarded by his female art geek admirers and you'll be thrown aside and forgotten. Maybe, that's what you're opposed of; having to share him with other people.
Does this mean that you're jealous? No, no, no, it can not be that. It can't possibly be that. If you're jealous, then that means you like him and you know you do not like him. In fact, he can go ahead and be a brat and ignore what you said. He can walk in there tomorrow and be crowded with fangirls and you won't even bat an eye.
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If you see one person tugging on his blazer one more time, you swear to every God up there that you're going to commit a vital sin and you can only pray that they forgive you. You hate to admit it, but your right eye is twitching. Not just once, not twice, but every time some random person touches him and it's infuriating you— both the fact that someone's touching him and the fact that your eye is twitching without your consent.
Again, you're not jealous.
There you stood with your arms crossed over each other, away from the small crowd that had formed around Jay. Your back is pressed against an empty wall as you watch them gush about how hot he is, how handsome he looks, how great his physique is. It all makes you scoff, clicking your tongue as you look out of the window in annoyance after you see the smirk that paints Jays lips when he sees the annoyed expression on your face.
Despite practically being mobbed and having every female member of your art club pressed against him, his eyes are on you and there's not a single doubt in your mind that he's doing this to set you off.
The girl in front of him catches his attention when she suddenly throws herself at him. Jay only chuckles before his eyes flicker towards you and you swear a light bulb just lit up beside his head.
The excited girl starts talking animatedly at him and he makes it look like he's invested in what she's saying. He even did that panti dropping move where he swayed her hair back behind her ear. Afterwards, he looked for you, a cocky smile painted across his features, knowing full well that he did that to get a rise out of you.
He's certainly loving the attention, isn't he?
Despite your prohibitions, that hard headed motherfucker still had the nerve to come. Hence, why you have a permanent scowl on your face.
The moment Jay introduced himself as your friend and that you've brought him here as todays muse, you knew you were in for a fun time— note the sarcasm. To Jay, this must be all fun and rainbows, but to you, this is hell on earth. Admittedly, you're embarrassed to be caught with the likes of him, especially when you've vocalised time and time again how much you hate people like him. Yet, here you are, watching your art teacher usher everyone to take their seats in front of their easels while Jay sits on a sturdy table placed at the centre, posing attractively with his hands resting behind him on the table as he leans backwards. His gaze is pretty and somewhat intimidating to look at from an outsiders point of view, his lips sitting comfortably in its normal pout. 
Abiding by your teachers words, you sit on your own chair and surprise surprise, it's placed right in front of him. Jay didn't know that that was your assigned seat, but seeing so, his lips had a mind of their own as no matter how hard he tried to stay still like how your teacher had asked him to be, the corners of his mouth still tinged upwards. 
Already accustomed to Jays teasing antics, you only heave out a tired sigh, shaking your head in defeat as you pick up your pencil. 
Might as well draw him while you're at it, right? 
Truth be told, it has been a while since you've drawn someone, so you wonder how you'd do and surprisingly, you're good at it. It was scary at first, feeling nervous that you might mess up, however, the longer your pencil drags on top of your paper, the more you feel at ease. Drawing someone as pretty as Jay made you appreciate the finer things in life; the way his nose stood ever so perfectly at the center of his face, how his collarbone peaked through the shirt he wore, how his hair seemed to have been placed perfectly without effort, and lastly, the way his body looked so inviting despite being covered. All of that combined with the natural lighting of the sunset peeking through the glass windows made everything so much more appealing. Using the excuse of drawing him, you hide between the mask you wore in order to not seem like a hunter salivating for its prey as you continue to draw the guidelines for your portrait.
"I didn't know you had friends on the varsity team." 
Turning your head, you come face to face with An Yujins annoying smirk plastered on what you could only assume is her face. Most of the time, you can't really tell if it's her ass or her face that's in front of you because she pushes both onto any guys face. You didn't even notice that she was sitting beside you until she opened her mouth, too preoccupied with sketching the greek god in front of you to care about her existence. 
She's the definition of an ugly jealous slutty cheerleader that wants everything nice for herself. You don't even have a single clue why she's part of your club nor how she's still in it since she rarely ever attends. To add to that, you've never seen her pass a single one of her projects. 
Above all the days in the week she could've chosen to come, she just had to go today and see you with the one and only varsity fuck boy. 
"Well, to be honest, I'm surprised you have any friends at all."
People like her are the type to make fun and point their fingers at you for wearing your grandmas hand knitted sweaters and they're just the worst! Seriously, how can someone hate something made by someones old grandma?! The audacity these people hold still baffle you to this day, although not as much as before. 
Through the years, Yujin seemed to have grown a liking for you. A liking you never asked for nor wanted. You had no idea why but she just loved to make fun of you every chance she got. It didn't matter how petty she looked nor did it ever matter to you when she tried to belittle you with rude comments and backhanded banter. Honestly, you're more upset at the fact that her jokes were never funny. If it was, you'd laugh, no matter if it was supposed to offend you because hey, if it's funny, it's funny. For instance, yesterday, she made fun of you for wearing your reading glasses, saying that you looked like you're an old maths teacher who's either widowed or divorced. A week ago, she caught you eating a chocolate bar in front of your locker while you were casually minding your own business with Liz and she told you how fat you were getting. You were about to tell her to get lost when Liz decided to fight back and told her that she had more fat rolls than Fat Amy. That little firecracker! Ugh, you just love her to bits.
In the early days, you would fire back at her mercilessly, coming up with the wittiest of replies, but before you knew it, you grew up. Suddenly, you felt spent. You got tired of the whole cat and mouse bickering and for once, you turned your life upside down and chose to be mature. That didn't seem to have sat well with Yunjin though as from then on, her attempt to torment you went from every so often to very often. Of course, being the strong and independent woman that you are, you never took any of her insults to heart— not like they offended you either way. You simply ignored her or told her to get lost and that you weren't interested. Obviously, she gets angry but being the pussy that she is, you knew she was never going to get into anything physical with you because if she did, she'd lose in an instant. With that lanky ass body of hers, even your four year old sister can.
So, wanting nothing to do with the likes of her, you divert your attention back to the hunk of a man that sat in front of you. However, you're greeted with a different expression than before as now, his brows are furrowed with wonder and question. He looks at you silently, his eyes somewhat shining thinly with jealousy and betrayal while his normal pout drags down into a frown as if to ask how you could take your eyes off of him when he's laid out in front of you so deliciously.
"Mr. Park, please refrain from moving your face." Your art teacher asks.
Jay replies with a grunt at being told off before he looks up front. He lets out a satisfied hum when he sees that your eyes have found their way back to him, now happily resting them back in their previous form. 
After that small fiasco, Jay tried his hardest from then on not to move. He didn't want to cause any more commotion and make you fuck up the portrait you were drawing of him. He wanted to see how well you sketched him later on when the session was done.
Staying still for an hour proved to be harder than he thought, especially when your eyes looked so deeply at every part of him. After a torturous ten minutes of you looking at every detail of his face, he's fought and lost to the blush that persistently wanted to make its way up his cheeks when he saw you eyeing the skin of his throat. Correct him if he's wrong but he swears he can see the way your eyes fire up after he took a huge gulp. The way you were staring every time his adams apple bobbed or when the muscles on his neck flexed made him even more flustered. 
He fought the urge to recoil with every feeling of you overwhelming him in such a public scene, suppressing the sexual thoughts that clouded his mind. You were doing nothing but what you were asked to do, so why does he feel so bothered by something he's supposed to be used to? Girls staring at him is a normal occurance to Jay, but for some reason, you make him feel overwhelmed.
Jay is terrible at concealing his thoughts and it's apparent in the way he avoids eye contact that you're the reason behind it. Seeing just that, you try to hide the egotistic smirk that’s on your face, not wanting to stand out amongst your peers. In an attempt to recollect yourself, you intake a hefty breath before rolling your shoulders back to loosen your tensed muscles before going back to work on adding shadows onto your portrait.
From then on, the minutes passed by staring at you. I mean, what else was he supposed to do? It kept him preoccupied and it gave him the excuse to stare back at you; the way your brows furrowed together in concentration, the way you pout whenever he assumes you made a wrong stroke, heck, he even longed to crane his neck to the side so he can see more of the way your fingers wrapped elegantly around your pencil. Everything about you seemed so enchanting to him, captivating him and encasing him in your prison. He's addicted to having more of you and he's driven to have just that because one way or another, Park Jay always gets what he wants.
The hour soon then passed and before he could even grasp what was happening, your teacher's already patting him on the back, telling him how good he did. 
As asked, you all lean your canvases on an empty wall, awaiting for your teachers evaluation as the others compare their respective portraits with each others. Jay was told by your teacher he could leave if he wanted, but like he said earlier, he wanted to have a look at your portrait. So, he declined. 
Jay never had any interest in art and poetry, but since meeting you, he feels like a whole new person. Never in his lifetime did he have to search the web for romantic poems nor has he ever awed when looking at someones canvas and yet, here he is. Everything he's doing is foreign, like the way you make him feel. And as he continues to stare at the portrait you drew of him, he's once again in awe of you. He can't help but wonder how someone can be so perfect doing something they're passionate about. 
Folding your arms, you stand next to Jay, patiently waiting for his feedback because after all, he is your muse. "So," You start, palms pressing onto your thigh to wipe off the thin layer of sweat forming. "How'd I do?"
The boy jumps. He didn't notice you were there, standing beside him. "G-Good! Really good, actually." He answers, stuttering to blurt out an answer. Jays cheeks blush, feeling flustered.
Heaving out a sigh in relief, you chuckle at yourself, finding it funny how you were nervous for nothing.
Jay clears his throat, trying to compose himself before blurting out his next response. "You must've enjoyed looking at me a lot, huh?"
And just like that, the adorable smile on your face is wiped off, a frown replacing it. However, Jay isn't complaining because as much as he loves that cute smile on your face, he's just as deeply in love with the fire in your eyes whenever you get annoyed at him. He thinks your scowls are pretty, it makes him want to tease you more often and that's just what he does to you every single day after that.
The day he saw the way you scowled at him after he teased you, is the same day his heart seemed to have fallen for you. And along with his heart, came his body next as it seemed to have always yearned to be either close or next to you. 
That's why you never thought much of it. 
Since that fateful day, Jay has gotten even touchier than he already was. As time went by, it started to evolve from Jay poking his fingers at your sides for fun, to jumping you and taking you in for a hug whenever he sees you in the hallways. It was never romantic though and was always accompanied by a teasing glint. 
Granted, you did get angry every time he tried touching you, still deeming him as more of an acquaintance rather than a close friend. However, as moments pass, Jays repetitive routine of touching, teasing, and then annoying you became as normal as you and Liz walking to school together. Although you never asked for Jay to be in your life, there's no doubt that it'd feel incomplete without him.
Over the course of the months, you've developed an odd relationship for the boy. It kind of makes you reminisce of the time you and Yujin used to bicker. The difference is that Jays mischievousness always takes one of three forms; flirty pick-up lines, defiance, and lastly, clinginess. Out of the 3, you adore the first one the most and could make good riddance of the second. As for the last one, you're only left confused.
Jays pick-up lines are to die for. They're always either humourly cheesy or impeccably horny— both of which makes you double over laughing even when he hasn't finished his line yet.
"I'm not even playing cards right now and I pulled a queen." Jays triumphant grin is contagious and no matter how hard you hold back your laughter, you just can't— especially when Liz is cackling behind you.
"That's so stupid, Jay." You say, shaking your head. Contradicting your own words, your smile is evident and Jay can't get enough. So, he decides to tell you more, hoping to get the same, if not, a better reaction out of you.
"You know," He starts. "I'm like Nike and you're like McDonalds."
"Oh yeah?" Seeing the smirk on Jays face only makes your own grin grow wider as you await to complete his joke, already at the edge of laughter. "Why?"
Clearing his throat, he answers. "Because I'm just doing it and you're loving it."
"Oh my god." You sigh before covering your face to hide the guilty smile you wore while your giggles furiously try to break free. "Now, that's just you being horny Jay."
Wanting to see your bright face, Jay leans closer to your seat. He wraps his fingers around your wrist in an attempt to pull them away from your face, but to his dismay, you don't budge. "Let me see you~" He whines.
"No~" You drag, mimicking his tone. "That was so bad!" You press on, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment in yourself for laughing at such a stupid pick-up line. 
"You clearly love it!" He exclaims, teasing you while leaning his face closer to yours despite it still being covered by your hands. "Now let me see you!"
"No, I don't." You fire back, pulling your hands away and looking at him. "But, tell me more."
Second, the boys defiance brings edge to his comical personality. Jay lives to see the enraged look on your face whenever he defies your simple orders and he'd never admit it to you himself, but that's what gets him going. 
At night, when he's all alone with his thoughts, his mind fills with scenes of him under you, begging for mercy. With all the authority you like to show, there's not a single hint of doubt in his mind that you like being in control, and he's willing to give you just that. Above all the women he's been with, you've repeatedly brought out a side of him that even he was heedless of— and this isn't any different.
Laying with his chest up and back pressed onto the soft fabric of his mattress, Jays breath quickens as he pushes himself to dive deeper into his fantasy. The thought consists of you and only you. With his hands dragging across the wide of his chest, he imagines it's your long and slender ones and not his. He drools at the possible feeling of your nails scratching on his body, making him release a quivered breath. 
Already feeling the pent up frustration building up in his boxers, he pushes his hair back before groping his hardening dick. He presses the palm of his hand directly on it, teasing himself as he envisions the proud look on your face as you watch him crumble under your supposed touch. 
"Fuck this." He concludes before pushing himself off of the mattress. Reaching beside him to open his bedside drawer, he grabs something he usually only uses for desperate times.
Jay gets bitches. So, there's simply no need for pocket pussies and fleshlights. But there'll come a time in a varsity players life where sleeping around is simply impossible to do. When schedules are pact with classes he has to attend to, practices he has to participate in, and rugby matches he has to win, there's just no time to be flirting. So, he bought a fleshlight just to solve that predicament.
Leaning back and getting comfortable on his bed, Jay leans against the headboard and quickly shakes off his pajamas, lifting his hips up in the process. Once that was off, he watched as his cock lay tensed and angry on top of his stomach, ready for any sort of pleasure. Already feeling impatient, Jay spurts a good amount of lube inside the toy and afterwards, he spits on it, letting the lube mix with his own lubricant. 
Feeling his breath growing faster as the excitement grows, Jay brings the toy closer to his dick. His mouth salivates, anticipating the pleasure that's yet to come. "Shit, YN. Just give it to me already." He says as he imagines you teasing him, lining the toy close to his dick.
Finally taking the whole skin of his leaking head inside, Jay releases a cross between a broken moan and a satisfied groan before taking all of his dick inside it all at once. Immediate pleasure fills the boys consciousness as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to suppress himself from moaning too loud. It's been too long since he's had any sort of pleasure from anything, mind too caught up in your existence. Not to mention the fact that he literally only wants you and no one else. After Jay found out that his feelings for you were growing more intimate than he'd like to, he tried his hardest to get hard for someone else. 
The boy has never had a crush on anyone and naturally, he felt scared— both at the unknown and the possibility of being rejected. So, he went out to parties, tried to hook up with the usual sluts around campus. But whenever someone other than you touches him in any sort of provocative way, his mind just shuts down and his body starts reacting in a negative way. What used to be Jays favorite pastime now became his worst enemy because from then on, Jay couldn't think of having sex with anyone other than you. Soon enough, Jay accepted the fact that he can never have someone better than you. You've never even flirted with Jay yet his mind is already creating scenarios of the two of you together. 
That's when he started working harder to get close to you because maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right, you might end up liking him back. It doesn't even have to be on the same heights as his feelings for you. If he succeeds and you like him back just a tiny ounce, then he can die happy. If he doesn't succeed and he fails to make you fall in love with him then it'd be a curse he'd have to bear with for the rest of his life because he knows that despite it, he couldn't ever leave you alone anymore. 
He imagines the scenario of you chuckling at him, mocking him for breaking apart so easily, calling him your desperate little slut in the process. Too immersed, Jay replies, "S-Shit. 'M not your slut."
The sounds of the toy squelching with every pump drives Jay mad, mind growing hazier by the minute. The toy makes him feel wonders and he's only left to imagine how good your pussy would feel if you ever let him fuck you. He thinks that if a toy feels this good on his dick, then there's no way you won't feel euphoric once he gets a chance to bury his dick inside your wet cunt.
It's not even past five minutes and yet, he can already feel his high approaching so quickly. With his mind flooded with images of you, his hand guides the toy faster, trying to drive him over the edge of his orgasm before pulling the toy off his dick completely. 
He chokes out a small cry in vain as all the pleasure vanishes. A string of curses leaves his lips after, not believing the fact that he's actually  torturing himself just to get a taste of you in his imagination.
He envisions you doing this to him; bringing him close to ecstasy and then taking it all away right before he can get the chance to cum. It's torturous having to repeat the same agenda on himself, especially when it's not you actually doing it. But he does so either way despite the pain and after a few more agonising denials, Jay finally decided to change positions.
Now positioning himself on all fours, Jay takes a pillow and places it right below his groin, resting the toy on top after. His right hand holds the fleshlight in place while the other rests on top of his pillow as leverage. Feeling comfortable again to resume his actions, he inserts his dick back in the toy, throwing his head back in pleasure as he releases a long dragged moan of your name. 
Jay starts thrusting into the toy with more vigor, jaw flexing as he clenches his teeth together. "Come on, Jay." Your voice says from inside his head. "Prove to me you aren't some worthless toy I can easily throw away."
Without wasting any more time, Jays thrusts grow near animalistic, pounding into the toy with more force. Lube mixed with his precum drips onto the mattress whenever he makes the move to retract his dick from the toy before drilling it back inside.
If there's anything in this world that Jay holds dear, that's you… and his pride. Jay knows he's good at everything so, when you, his beloved crush, tells him that he's practically a piece of filth you can't wait to throw away, Jays body fills with rage. How can you come up with such a lie? Those days that were filled with staring at you didn't go to waste because now, Jay feels like he knows your body inside and out. He knows every dip on your body, every mole visible on your skin and if there were more that he hasn't yet discovered, then he'll make sure to scout for them when he gets the chance to. He's determined to prove to you that he's irreplaceable, that no one can give you a better time than he does. 
"Fuck, YN." He pants your name out, voice shaking with each powerful thrust. "I'm so close, YN. I'm gonna cum."
He tried to wait longer, he really did. He didn't want to cum in his own hands. Instead, he wanted to cum in your presence, wanting to show you how hot he looks when he cums. But inevitably, he failed. 
Chanting your name, Jay finally lets himself reach his own high. With his body lurched forwards as he presses his face onto the sheets, his hips grind onto the toy while he rides himself off of his high, filling the toy with a huge load his hot cum.
His gut tells him that you'd love to humiliate him after. He can see you telling him how dumb he is for letting himself cum before you and he can only imagine how you'll punish him. Would you sit on his face and tell him to eat you out until you cum on his tongue? Or maybe, you'd tell him to sit down and ride him until you're satisfied, ignoring his pleas despite the overwhelming feeling of your vagina on his cock after he just came?
Either way, he's drunk and spent. But despite that, he won't make it easy for you. With all his might, he'll talk back and fire senseless retorts at you, wanting to drive you over the edge of insanity, completely unaware that it's already happening to him.
Lastly, Jays clinginess is something you didn't think you'd get used to this fast. All that talk about not wanting to be in the same vicinity as rugby players seemed to have flown past your head because look at you now; a jock practically purring on your shoulder as it napped. For a gym addict, Jays body is strong yet gentle, muscular yet soft, and heavy yet light. Polar opposites yet they conjure up the perfect qualities for a human being.
You have no idea how you two got into this situation nor do you remember who instigated it. The only thing you know is the feeling of comfort being close to Jay brings. It's odd, feeling the skin on skin contact with someone you're supposed to despise. Yet, you don't have the will-power to pull away. Perhaps, you have Jay to blame for that. Maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you think and you're developing feelings that're deeper, more romantic. 
How did you let yourself fall for him?
One Friday afternoon when your literature class unfortunately got cancelled, the whole class was told that they were free to go and spend their vacant time however they wanted. Finding nothing else to do, you offered to go out to the school field and have a small picnic date together with Liz. But with your pro procrastinator best friend having a ton of pending assignments left, she told you to just go there with Jay while she tries finishing some of them. 
Of course, still refusing to prove Liz right, you fake vomited, telling her that there was no way in hell you were going to have a picnic with Mr. Hot Shot Rugby Player and proceeded to go alone. Luckily, the said boy didn't hear your best friends suggestion and you were able to have a moment of peace before you realize that Jay was actually following behind you all this long.
"Jay," You call out his name in warning. "What're you doing here?"
"Nothing really. Just casually strolling since I have nothing to do." He answers, eyes staring at the horizon as his hands rest inside his pockets in a carefree manner. "Oh, having a picnic? Mind if I join?"
The boy doesn't give you a chance to reply before he's already making himself feel comfortable on the blanket. Prior to this, you had set up the blanket near a tall tree. You wanted to enjoy the cold breeze outside without the scorching heat of the sun burning your skin. 
Noticing the small canvas that sat idly on top of the blanket, he asks, "You gonna paint?"
Accepting your fate and the fact that you aren't going to get rid of him, you take a deep breath as you try to compose your thoughts. "Yeah, I was planning to."
"Well, don't let me stop you, babe." He says right before leaning back on his hands, feeling smug.
Complying with his words with a huff, you take the small canvas in your arms either way. With your watercolor paint set securely on top of the picnic blanket, you take a fine brush, ready to start painting whatever comes to mind when Jay speaks. "Do you think you can draw me again?"
"No," Thinking that you're done, an immediate pout makes its way onto Jays face and he's ready to convince you otherwise when suddenly, you cut him off by finishing your sentence. "I don't have a pencil right now. I only have these with me." You add, gesturing towards your palette. 
At that, Jay nods his head in understanding, however, a pout is still set on his face, yearning to be your muse once again. Looking over to him, you watch his face silently and while oblivious to your stare, Jay picks up a few small pebbles laying near the tree. He tosses them towards the distance, finding nothing to do. You sigh, feeling yourself cave in. "Come here then. I guess I can paint your silhouette or something."
Like an owner calling their cute kitten over, Jay whips his head towards your direction, feline eyes shining immensely with happiness before he conceals it, wanting to play hard to get. "Nah, I don't wanna bother you." He says in a mockingly sad tone.
Rolling your eyes at Jay antics, you pull his arm lazily so he could lean closer to you. "Come on, Jay. Before I change my mind."
Though it wasn't the first time yours and Jays skin has touched, it was the first time you instigated it. Jay has always been the one touching you, being clingy, and annoying— It was never you. The feeling is new and he can't help but freeze at the contact. Even after, his cheeks are set ablaze as the skin of your arms are still pressed together while he sits stiffly next to you. Noticing this, you ask, "You okay, pretty boy?"
Clearly, you said the name to tease him. Since day one, you were in love with the picture of Jays face looking dangerously red and flustered. Wanting to see the look on his face that you missed so dearly, you used the nickname in hopes to see it again. And it worked, Jays posture goes stiffer, his back straightening while he holds his breath. 
A simple act of skinship initiated by you is new to him, although he knows it doesn't have the same effect on you as it does him. The gesture also doesn't tell him what your feelings are for him. But this, a pet name, was something he could only imagine receiving from you and here he is now, receiving it. It makes him speechless, mind searching desperately for a comeback that conceals how weak he is for you, but he fails to do so, heartbeat beating too loud for his mind to function.
From your perspective, Jays reactions are always adorable. Yes, he has his moments wherein he acts like a brat— a spoiled one at that, but you can't deny the fact that you're willing to entertain him. It's something that's beyond your grasp, something uncontrollable. You do it so often and most of the time, you aren't even aware of it. Your body just seems to react that way to him, whether you like it or not. Right now, you know deep down that Jay holds a place reserved only for him in your heart. So, you ask, can his feelings ever be true?
Despite what you think, you continue spending the rest of the free time you had with the boy and from then on, you've come to form a bond with him that was totally unexpected, and yet, you wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe. If only you just had the guts to tell him how you feel.
"By the way, Jake's holding a party at his house this Saturday. I was sorta hoping you'd come?" He asks as the two of you lean side by side on the tree.
You hum, eyes closed as you rested. "We'll see."
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Dusting the nonexistent dust off of the fabric of your black leather jeans, you take a look in the mirror for the first time since you came rushing back to your house.
Prior to this, you had gone home last Friday night to go and visit your parents back in the countryside. You came back at around 7pm and since then, you've been hastily trying to gather an outfit for the same party Jay had invited you to come to, all the while fighting with your own consciousness whether or not it was a good thing to go. 
You're not one to go to parties like this one. There's just something about partying with people you know from school that irks you. You'd much rather go to some local bar and get drunk off your head with strangers. But, like most decisions you make when Jay's involved, it gets thrown away towards the deepest corner of your brain, forgotten and neglected. 
Stepping inside the huge mansion decorated with tons upon tons of littered empty beer bottles and chip bags, you almost turn around and leave before the sweet fragrance of Jay's cologne hits you, enveloping you in such a sweet scent. How can you leave?
"YN~" He whines, obviously drunk out of his mind as he clings onto your arm. " 've been wai—ting for… you… all night." In his drunken state, Jay leans his full weight onto you, legs probably feeling like jelly as the alcohol floods his system. 
"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" You reply to him, enveloping his hands in yours to guide them towards your shoulder, wanting to provide him some leverage. Afterwards, your hands find their way towards the small of his waist in order to steady his body, afraid that the boy might collapse from the amounts of alcohol he's intook. 
He answers you with several cute nods before stuffing his face into the crook of your neck, sighing comfortably. The boy seemed as if he was drunk out of his mind and you were about to ask him if he was okay before he cut you off. "I— I thought you not gonna come~" He drags in a pout. "Thought you… ditched… me." 
By the tone of his voice, you can tell that Jay's about to pass out. So, making the decision to help him to bed, you made your way through the mass of sweaty teenagers on the dance floor and walked with him towards the kitchen. There was no use asking Jay where a guest room was located as the boy was now practically half asleep. With half of his body weight hung on your shoulder, the boy's purring onto your neck as you drag his body while you walk. 
Catching sight of a familiar blonde haired boy rummaging through the fridge with a few bottles in his hands, you decide to call his name. "Jake," You huff, readjusting your grip on Jay as you feel him slipping between your arms. Jay whines at the sudden jolt, hands tightening around your neck as he places airy kisses onto the side of it, where his head was tucked in.
At the call of his name, Jake turns his attention away to find you with an impeccably drunk Jay clinging onto you like a koala. To Jake, the scene looked funny and amusing because this was the first time he saw Jay in such a vulnerable scene. If it was any other girl he was clinging to, Jake wouldn't have wasted a second to take his friend away and tend to him on his own, feeling worried for the boys well-being. But since he knows Jays romantic bond with you, he's at ease. 
"Hey, YN." He greets, posture straightening. "That's quite the situation you've got there." He says, hands gesturing towards you and how Jays arms seem to be wrapped around you without a thought of letting go.
"Yeah," You agree with a huff, feeling out of breath. "I could use some help actually."
Rolling your eyes at the boy, you accept your faith, realizing how alike the two best friends are. "Thanks…" You trail off. "Is there a room I can put Jay in? I think he's gonna pass out."
Without missing a beat, Jake replies. "Nah." He smirks. "I think you've got it under control."
"Yeah, there's a guest room upstairs. Just go up. Last room to the right." He points towards the flight of stairs and you nod, taking the information in before you grip Jays body tighter as you make your way up the stairs and into the room the blondie told you to go to.
Opening the lights inside the dark room, you try not to stumble and fall to the ground, feeling your grip loosening. In fear of dropping the poor boy on the hard ground, you quickly waddle towards the bed and gently plopping Jay down into the soft mattress. 
Attempting to untangle his arms from your neck proved to be difficult as the boy just seemed to bound himself to you like steel. No matter how hard you try, Jays resolve doesn't falter, leaving you with no choice but to lay there awkwardly until he falls asleep. 
"YN~" You hear his sudden voice call out to you in the same drunk and dragged out manner. "Stay~" He pouts.
All you do is smile at his cuteness, reaching a hand up to sway his bangs away from his face. "Go to sleep, Jay. Get some rest." You say as your hand stays on the crown of his head, scratching his scalp. 
At the act of service, Jay groans contently under your touch. "You're so pretty YN." He sighs, drunk eyes watching you take your jacket off in a dreamlike manner.
This time, you laugh, both at his drunken confession and because of the look on his face. Sober Jay would never confess that you were pretty aloud— not in this way at least. When complimenting you, Jay always had more creative ways to get his message through, whether it's by teasing you or by using his corny ass pick-up lines. Still, those simple words made your heart flutter and so, in a whisper, "You're pretty too." you say. 
A dopey smile makes its way onto the boys face, undoubtedly feeling satisfied with your answer. "Lay down with me." He commands.
Although you know he's just being playful, you still wanted to tease him back by lecturing him and you were about to do just that before he suddenly pulls you down under him. All the air gets knocked out of your lungs, the action taking you by surprise. With wide eyes, you stare baffled at the man position on top of you, body placed between your legs while his face hovers only mere inches above yours. "J-Jay?" Hearing yourself stutter, you almost curse yourself for being so easily vulnerable.
Despite you calling out to him, Jay doesn't move an inch off of you, only moving nearer and in the heat of want and need, you do too. Quite frankly, now that he's so close, your senses fill with every bit of the boy. His cologne is the only thing you can smell, your bodies are practically pressed against each other, and with his face so close to you, he's the only thing you can see. The only thing missing is the taste of him then you'll be complete, the both of you will. And it seems like that's just what's about to happen because before you knew it, your surroundings seemed to move in slow motion, the only thing making sense is him as his nose touched yours, eyes begging for progress. 
Satisfied with his silent plea, you bring your faces closer and let him get a taste of what it's like to be engulfed by you. Both yours and Jays eyes are now closed, lips awaiting to collide and when it does, an endless spray of fireworks seem to erupt. You kiss him light and gentle, afraid he'll regret his actions and pull away. But when he doesn't, your heart melts, feeling joyous at his acceptance. 
It's not only you who feels that way, but also Jay, maybe even more so. He's the one that fell in love with you first, thus, meaning he's waited the longest out of the both of you. He tried to keep his emotions at bay, but the beer in his system seemed to have other plans as what Jay thought would be an innocent night where the two of you can get to know each other now turned into a hot makeout session. Jay isn't complaining however, how can he when he thought this was only possible in his dreams? 
When the plush feeling of your lips leave his, Jay craves for more and you happily dive back into him. This time, you kiss him harder just like he requested. The whine he lets out just fuels your sex drive even stronger and you're determined to ruin him. 
"YN," He calls with his eyes closed, feeling breathless. You reply to him with an airy hum, hands caressing the wide of his chest under his shirt, nails barely grazing over his nipples before wrapping them around his waist so you can continue teasing him with your hips. "S— ah, stop. I— I might…"
The feeling of having you, kissing you, feels so surreal to the boy. It's like a dream and he's just waiting to wake up and feel reality crashing down and disappoint him. He can't help but compare it to the numerous wet dreams he's had of you, except this time, it's all real. You're really making out with him, you're really putting your tongue inside his mouth and he's letting you.
The wet muscle of your tongue explores the space of Jays mouth as his hand possessively roams around your figure. His hands trail between the valley of your breasts to the curve of your hips and roots them there. The grip he has on you only gets tighter when you retract your tongue from his mouth to suck on his lips instead. His mouth hangs ajar, his loud moans spilling out uncontrollably, feeling your hips grinding up to rub on his boner.
"Might, what?" You ask, voice laced with ego while cocking an eyebrow up as you watch him struggle to form words knowing that you're the cause of it. "Baby can't speak now?" You pout, cooing at the quivering boy on top of you.
With the feeling of you tapping his cheek so affectionately, Jay groans in embarrassment. "You're the one getting worked up." He teases back in an attempt to collect the pieces of his pride that's been chipped off, digging his knee into your clothed vagina, wanting to get a reaction out of you. Instead, it's him who ends up moaning, throwing his head back when he feels the mixture of your heat and wetness through the fabric of his pants which, by the way, he was just dying to take off. His teasing seems to be for nothing because you just lay there all pretty whilst agreeing to everything he says as you couldn't deny the fact that his words were all true. He is making you hot and bothered and there's no use in denying it.  
Your confidence only makes Jay harder, now grunting at his failed attempt to fluster you. At this point, Jays pants are suffocating and he desperately wants to tear them off. He feels like he's getting blue balled and that has never happened to a hot boy like him. With you, Jay experiences all sorts of firsts; first crush, first love, first blue balls— he could do with the last one, but in the end, he wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world. 
"YN, please." He begs, practically on the verge of tears as his cheeks blossom a deeper shade of red, both because of the heat your body exudes and your words. "Do something— Oomf!"
Ignoring Jays pleas, you catch the boy by surprise by flipping the both of you over. Now, you're on top of him and he's below you, looking up, like how it should be. As Jay lies down with his arms bent at the same level of his head, you take your place and sit on top of his lap, feeling his erection pressing into your heat.
"There we go." You chuckle, looking down at the boy and leaning closer to his face. Thinking that you're going to kiss him, Jay leans up in expectation, only to chase your lips up when you pull away. Jay prepares himself for an endless night of teasing, now practically sober yet it feels like he's getting drunk again. It's just that this time, it's not because of the alcohol, but because of you. "Isn't this better, Jay?"
"It was better when I was on top of you." He says, snarkily.
"Ah," You sigh out, realizing what Jay's doing. "You aren't going to make it easy for yourself, are you, baby?"
"Yeah," He laughs, loving the way he's rilling you up. "Fuck you." Both Jays body and mind tries his hardest not to show a reaction when you had called him by his favorite pet name and he almost succeeds, but alas, Jays dick has different things in mind. 
Feeling his dick twitch under you, you can't help but laugh at his pathetic attempt to mask his emotions. "Oh come on, baby. Don't act like a brat now." You coo, steadily grinding down onto his dick. "We both know you're just dying to please me."
With every motion of your hips grinding on Jays boner, he can't help but choke on his own saliva, feeling his mind growing dizzy with every act. "YN… Do something."
Both yours and Jays body crave to be touched, to be against each other and so, you do just what your bodies want. Leaning forward, you bring your lips to his. Initially, you had planned to tease him further with light feathery kisses but the thought soon flew out the window when Jay tried to make it dirtier by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. The innocent, teasing kiss soon turns into a hot and messy make out session as you gladly suck on the muscle of his tongue, soon falling in love with every sound that falls outside his lips. 
Your hands make their way to Jays face, holding his face steady as you angle your face to the side in order to deepen the kiss. Jays eyes are closed, too occupied with kissing you that if he were to open them and see the mouth watering view of you on top of him, he'd just cum in his pants and that's the last thing Jay wants to do. 
Brushing his bangs back, your fingers then thread onto the strands of his hair, tangling them before pulling his head back so you could have free access to his neck. Your mouth leaves his and he almost whines at the loss of contact before he cuts himself off with a whimper when he feels you lick a thick stripe from the bottom of his neck to the edge of his jaw. 
"You're such a whiny little thing, Jay." You comment, breath fanning his neck and effectively sending shivers down his spine. You don't give him a chance to reply before your mouth latches onto the skin of his neck, sucking and biting enough for it to give Jay the harsh feeling of pleasure but not enough to leave marks. The said boy releases a string of curses, mouth falling open as he doesn't even bother to conceal the desperate moans in his chest.
Your tongue licks at the bump of his adams apple before taking it in your mouth. When Jay gulps, his adams apple moves and you chase it, humming delightfully when you feel Jays fingers latching onto your shirt to get a grasp of reality. Effectively covering the skin with your saliva, you then move on to the line of Jay's jaw. You've been eyeing this specific part of his face for the longest time since you've met him. Whenever Jay would randomly pop up and decide to stick with you, you always take the chance to admire his jaw whenever he's looking away. You just know that if he ever catches you then you're in for a life of endless teasing.  But now that he's here, willingly angling his head to the side to show off his stunning jaw to you, you can't help but greedily feast on it. There's not a chance in this world you'd pass up the opportunity to do whatever you wanted to him. And you do just that; you use your tongue to trace the sharp line of Jay's jaw, peppering it with kisses from time to time. As you kiss him, Jay's hands rake your scalp, trying to find something to hold onto as you cover him with your scent.
After all that's done, you take a look at the dishevelled man under you. His forehead is shining with a thin sheet of sweat, lips plump and swollen due to the endless amounts of kissing the both of you did, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath he takes, and lastly, the hint of his abs peeking through his shirt is what sends you over the edge. Your mouth is watering, searching for something to do just to get a bigger reaction out of him and not to mention the fact that your wetness is practically seething through the thin layer of your jeans. 
"Wait, shit. I forgot," Suddenly, your hands stop from pulling his boxers out. Feeling edged, Jay lets out a choked sob, followed by a loud whine. He looks at you expectantly, eyes begging for you to just forget whatever it is. "Condom, honey. Do you have one?" 
You want to fuck Park Jay so bad, you're willing to beg for it. Luckily, it's Jay who breaks first. With stray lines of tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Jay begs, "Please, YN. Fuck me, please, please."
And that's all he had to say before you quickly took his pants off and threw them to the ground in a hurry, unafraid to show your own eagerness.
A condom, a fucking condom. That's what's banning Jay from getting his noodle wet. He's about to throw a tantrum, it's going to be loud, childish, and annoying. You can just tell from the way his face consorts in disapproval that you're going to be dealing with a bigger brat if you don't give baby Jay what he wants. But at the end of the day, your point is valid, and as Jay rummages through his pockets in search of a condom, he fails to find any. You watch him as he leans to his side, looking through the drawers of the bedside table, practically resembling a starved dog scavenging for food when he cries out, and you can only take that as a sign that there isn't any here.
"None?" You watch him amused, a smile dancing across your face. Leaning close, you take his head and cradle him to your chest, attempting to console the boy.
"There's none!" He screams out, pouting as he digs his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. "YN~ My balls are hurting." He whines, kicking his legs behind you.
Acknowledging his pain, you pat the boys head before leaning away. "I'll go get one, yeah?" You ask.
Like an excited child, Jay hurriedly nods while watching you get up from his lap and standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. "Hurry hurry."
"Oh, don't sound so eager, Jay. You look like you're just begging for me to fuck you." You chuckle, hands resting on your hips.
"But I am, though." He finally admits. Jay bites his lip when he sees you coming closer before pecking him, telling him that you'll be quick and ordering him not to move.
You don't even get ten steps away from the room before you see Yunjin leaning against the wall with her hands crossed in front of her chest. She turns to you, giving you a once over. "Oh, it's you." She says before scoffing. "I didn't think Jay would be able to win this year because of you, but I guess that man's just has his ways, huh?"
Like a million pound truck sending you flying aback, or like a bucket of ice cold water being poured onto you, you're frozen, unable to move as reality comes crashing down onto you. Your heart beat stops and for a moment, you thought it would stay that way forever before she speaks again. "Oh?" She asks with interest, a smirk playing across her lips as she tilts her head to the side in order to provoke you. "Did you really think Jay, the Park Jay, wanted to fuck you because he loved you? Did little miss artsy YN fall in love?"
Why does loving someone always has to come with a catch? You guessed that this is why it hurts so much, because love is sinful and unforgiving. Just when you were ready to let him inside your bubble, thinking that he'd take care and cherish it with you, instead, he popped it with little to no care. 
Blood rushes through you and you can feel your knuckles itching for contact. Yunjins face looks so punchable right now and you just want to ever so lightly tap it. How can you be so stupid to forget? To think that all the teasing, all the pick-up lines, and all the moments you shared together were just part of his stupid plan to get you. Now, It all makes sense; Him suddenly growing interested in you and him acting like you're the most pretty thing in this crude world.  In the end, it was all for show. And you knew it. From the beginning, you had already suspected that he was only getting close to you because you were apart of his fuck list.
But can you blame yourself? The adoration you felt with him was so addicting it felt real.
Maybe, that's how Jay worked. Maybe, that's the effect he has on people. You knew from the start that Jay was the type of guy to get whatever he wanted and yet, you were stupid enough to forget it all because you fell in love with him.
"You know, I didn't think you were going to be that easy to get, YN. But I guess I was wrong about you." She comments without you asking. "You're just a little two faced nerd looking for attention."
If you weren't coursing with anger before then you are now. Eventually, your knuckles turn a baffling shade of white due to the amount of strength you're putting on it and just when you were about to leave and head to your car, Yunjin breathes and that's all it took for your fist to collide with her jaw. 
Despite the booming sound of music through the speakers, the crackling sound of her jaw breaking still finds its way to tear through the tensed air. Yunjin doubles back, palm cupping her jaw as she looks at you with shock and bafflement. You can feel her hatred for you bubbling up, but you don't care. You leave her there despite her enraged calls for you to come back and fight her again, to show the world who you truly are, but you tuck her voice at the back of your mind as you make your way down the stairs and out of the fucking mansion.
You're enraged with hatred and disgust, both for the boy and Yunjin. The more you think of it, the more you realize that you should've thanked her actually. Because of her, you've finally come to your senses. If it weren't for her, there's a possibility you would've given in to his plan and lost all sense of your pride. Making a mental note to apologise to her soon, you speed up your car, trying to erase all the memories you have of the boy in your mind.
Too caught up in your own feelings, you don't realize that you've left Jay there in the guest room by himself, waiting for you to return. And he would've waited even longer if Yunjin hadn't staggered inside and told him that you left.
"Wh— Huh?" Jay asks, still surprised to see the girl inside the same room you two had made out in and promised to make love. "Did something happen? Is she hurt?" Jay rushes to button up his pants as he stands up from the bed, ready to look for you in case you really were in trouble.
"No," Yunjin says, sliding down the wall and planting herself on the carpeted floor. "She already knows, Jay. You don't need to pretend you like her anymore." She chuckles.
Jay looks at her with question marks practically floating above his head, wondering what the hell she was talking about. In fact, Jay doesn't even know who this girl is. When Yunjin sees this, she carries on to remind him.  "The game, Jay."
That's when it finally hits him. You think that he's doing all this because of the game. Jay immediately goes into panic, mind creating alarming scenarios of you leaving him forever. He thinks he fucked it all up even though the game was the last thing on his mind at this point. He can't let you think that that's why he's doing this, he can't let you think that he isn't ready to do everything for you. He needs to confess and that's what he plans on doing.
Noticing the panic in Jays eyes, Yunjin finally realizes that this wasn't his objective, that this isn't what the boy wanted. Slowly, it dawns on her that the boy isn't doing this because of the game anymore. It's evident in the way he rushes to find his phone, feet jittering as he hurriedly taps on his phone to dial your number and when you don't answer, tears start spilling from Jays eyes.
"You love her," She asks, eyes concentrated on him as she too, is in shock. "Don't you?"
Looking blankly at your contact number on his phone screen, he answers, "Yeah," He gulps, mouth catching his lips, trying to conceal his whimpers. "I do."
My muse: YN, please answer. Let me explain.
A whole three hours have passed since you left Jay alone in Jakes mansion and the boy has never felt this depressed in his life. He had tried calling you a staggering total of 163 times, left messages asking to talk and yet, none were answered. 
My muse: I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you. I never intended to make a fool out of you.
My muse: I need you, YN. Don't leave me, please.
My muse: Are you safe at least? Did you get home safely? I'm not sure if you brought your car so if you need me to bring you home just call me or send a message, anything's fine.
He was on the verge of stopping by every house in the city just to find you when Heeseung told him to go home and rest. The boys had been trying to comfort Jay for hours now, but nothing had seemed to work. Not being able to cope with the sadness mixed with the flashbacks of your rendezvous, Jay accepts his friends suggestion, going back to his own house where he can rest peacefully… or so he thought.
All this while, Jay had been absentmindedly carrying your jacket around like a lost puppy, the one you left in Jakes guest room. It's the one thing he has of you at the moment and he can't help but grip on to it like his life depended on this sole object.
He sighs as he plops down onto his bed, both feeling spent and exhausted. Jay wanted to sleep, he really did, but how could he when the memories of your night together flashes in his mind on repeat. Not to mention how your jacket sits there on his bed, tempting him to sin.
It's sad, he knows. The memories of you becoming too extreme and plus, he's too miserable. How did a night so perfect become this disastrous?
Tonight, Jay was about to confess his undying adoration and maybe, you were going to do the same too. But it was all ruined because of something so trivial. Yet, how can he blame you? If he found out you only looked at him because of a game, he would walk out too, maybe even do something even worse. 
But that's not the case for Jay. There's not a single hint of doubt in his body that he loves you. But then again, you didn't know that. If only he had just confessed to you sooner, then maybe, this could've all been prevented. And because of his actions, he lost you. So, for now, as he spends the night wide awake, Jay tortures himself as his mind dive into the memories of both you and him, to the times you spent together doing something as simple as sitting next to each other and to the ones where he almost made love to you.
His mind drowns in all the possibilities; of you under him, on top of him, beside him. It's all making Jays mind fuzzier. The line between imagination and reality blurring as his erotic fantasies intensify. Forgive him. He knows it's not the time to be feeling this way, but what else can he do when you left him in the middle of the night, hard and horny. He's already cried his heart out, maybe now is the time to temporarily mend it.
Yeah, let's just patch it up with tape for now.
Jay is boisterous and never easily flustered when it came to topics like sex. If so, then why is he shaking?
His hands continue to trail around his stomach, thinking that it'd be an image you'll be impressed in. Jay takes pride in his physique because after all, he's trained ruthlessly for over three years just to get this kind of body. So, of course, he's going to want you to put at least some attention to it.
Eyeing the grip he has on your jacket, Jay debates whether or not to do it before finally saying fuck it. In a desperate attempt to keep his emotions at bay, Jay covers his face with the fabric of your jacket. The cloth is covered in your scent and it's intoxicating to him as only a few moments ago, you were the only thing in this world that he could feel, taste, hear, and smell. It's a simple perfume and it doesn't suffocate his nostrils when he inhales it.
As he does, the scent of you fills his systems and he's yet again reminded of the things that happened in Jakes guest room. He wonders what else you would've done if the two of you went further. Thinking like you're doing it to him, Jay begins by trailing his hand up to rest on top of his abs, caressing and tracing the soft skin. His breath hitches as he inhaled, getting another strong whiff of your scent coated on the jacket. "YN," He sighs.
Eventually, the light caresses he's making are just not enough anymore. He wants something stronger, something to distract him from his sorrows. Wanting to do so, Jay grazes his fingers on top of his nipples, stimulating them as he breathes in once more, nostrils filling with your scent before pulling the jacket off his face. His brows are furrowed, feeling the way his mouth waters at the actions he had been planning to do. Jay releases a small whimper when he finally moves tug on his nipples, imagining it's you doing it to him. Jay has never touched his nipples while misturbating before and he'd never once thought of doing it. Not until he got a taste of you. 
Wanting to get a better simulation of your wet lips on his body, he takes his fingers in his mouth and coats them with a thick layer of his own saliva before using it to pinch his nipples, tweaking the bud in his own fingers. It's only then does Jay notice the red colored tint that managed to mix with his saliva. It's the remnants of your lipstick that got smudged onto his mouth. This time, the boy releases a loud and drawn out moan, the scenario feeling all too real for his rotting brain.
"YN," He moans. "I l-love you." He chokes out the confession in between pants. 
As time goes on, Jays pants start to suffocate him, his boner getting harder the more he plays with himself as the various different scenarios of you on top of him plague his mind. 
The only position Jay could imagine the both of you in right now is you on top, taming and punishing him like the brat he is. He applauds himself for coming up with such a logical scenario. It's the only one that makes sense.
Bunching up your jacket into a small ball, Jay presses the fabric onto the bulge of his pants, imagining it as your cunt instead. He shuts his eyes close, head throwing back at the slightest stimulation. Jay flexes his jaw when he grinds his hips upwards into the fabric as he holds it in place. He feels ashamed of his actions. It's something he thinks a sane person won't do, but at the end of the day, is Jay still right in the head?
But it'll have to do for now. While he doesn't have you in his arms, he's going to have to make do with what he has.
He's not. It's clear in the way he hurriedly plies his pants off that he's not able to think clearly anymore. He wants you to ride him, wants to feel himself deep inside your pussy. But he can't because he's a stupid fucking piece of shit that can't get his priorities straight. Maybe if he had just remembered to tell you about how the game is fucked and that he doesn't care about it, then maybe, it would have been you on top of him right now instead of this makeshift pocket pussy.
With his goal in mind, Jay wraps the whole of your jacket around his dick. His hands hold the fabric in place, suffocating his dick with your scent as his hands start to guide it up and down. Endless rays of moans, whimpers, and groans spill out of Jays mouth, the sound of your jacket rubbing on his dick making his mind grow crazier. Like a broken record, Jay chants your name over and over as he continues to jack off.
That's how Jays night went. Despite the pleasure he received from his high, Jay was still depressed and sad. Now, however, it's mixed with a sense of shame and guilt, both at the fact that despite losing you, his mind still managed to come up with dirty scenarios of you together and because he soiled your jacket with his cum. 
It's no worries though, he can just get it dry cleaned before giving it back to you. Shame your scent won't be on it anymore, but maybe it's for the best since his mind might make up erotic fantasies of the both of you again.
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"Alright, ladies! Come over here." Heeseung calls and tuts for his team to come closer. He continues once all of his members are gathered around him. "Coach is out today. Something about getting his balls cut off." He informs, voice monotone with disinterest as his eyes never once leave the clipboard he's holding.
"As per his majesty's request, we're going to be doing 30 laps around the field today—" His words get cut off with a series of protests and groans coming from his own team. "Don't make me up to 60."
"3 reps of 200 Bench presses, 150 military presses, 150 squats. After that we're going to do deadlifts. Coach said Sunoo and Jungwon need to gain more muscle. So…" Heeseung continues to list on, reading the exercise routine their Coach provided for them while he's away.
Listening from the back, Jay eventually tunes out Heeseungs voice once he moves on to personal exercises. Instead, he diverts his attention towards the bleachers where multiple girls begin occupying the seats as per usual. It's normal for their fan girls to begin taking their seats once classes are over, wanting to catch a glimpse of one of them naked and sweaty. Jay doesn't mind the attention, however. What he does mind is how he still can't seem to find you anywhere. The boy has been searching for you for a whole day now. The two of you had literature class today and he was going to take that chance to talk and explain himself to you. But when he stepped into class, you were nowhere to be seen. You blonde little friend wasn't there either so it wasn't like he could ask her for your whereabouts. He could only pray that the two of you just decided to ditch literature class today as there's a dark corner in his mind that thinks you might have transferred to a different class, or maybe even a different school. But he knows better than to think that, especially when he finally saw the said blonde there, sitting on one of the bleachers. To Jays dismay though, there was no trace of you.
Ignoring Heeseung's call and his teammates' wandering glances, he joggs over to where your friend sat. She lets out a surprised yelp, quickly composing herself when she sees the man standing in front of her so suddenly out of nowhere.
"Hey," Jay casually greets her and then asks, "Liz, right?"
"Yes…" She drags, tilting her head to the side, eyes shifting back and forth between Jay and everywhere else as she begins to feel flustered under his intimidating aura.
"Do you know where YN is?"
An excited squeal escapes Liz's lips, struggling to contain her excitement when the question leaves Jays mouth. Liz is an innocent little thing and an oblivious one at that. No doubt, she's a friend you can come to when you're in need of a shoulder to cry on or a body to seek comfort in, but you can never lean on Liz when it comes to topics like relationships. In the best way possible, Liz is an airhead dreamer. Liz always looks as if she's in a different world, a world filled with her likes. She's tooth achingly nice and almost as pure as milk. There's not a bad bone in the girls body and that's why you love her to bits. Sure, there are times when she breaks character, but mostly, that's because she senses trouble in people. It's like the time when Yunjin dissed you and Liz fired back with her own reply. She's different and you can only curse her mother for letting her watch Harry Potter's Luna Lovegood on repeat as a child as there's no doubt in your mind that that was the reason for Liz's behaviour. But, nevertheless, you love the girl to death. 
That's the reason why Liz is still fond of Jay. When her dear friend came to her that night to cry her heart out, she comforted the girl in her arms, hushing her and telling her that everything was alright despite not knowing the horrors she just experienced. 
Liz didn't know what happened and if she asked, she knew you wouldn't tell her. So, she sticks to consoling you despite whatever events took place, oblivious to the fact that the man standing in front of her was the cause of it all. Maybe, not telling Liz was a mistake. Maybe, you should've tried using everything in your power to make her understand that this world isn't full of butterflies and roses. Instead, you should teach her the truth, that this world is unforgiving, so many worshipped God's and yet none of them take pity on you. But, despite what you think, you just can't taint her. Let her think that the world is wonderful, that everyone has kindness in their hearts. You'll carry all the burden just so she could stay happy.
"She's in the art room!" Liz eagerly replies, smiling crazily at the boy as the thought of Jay and you together still plague her mind. She's still convinced that you and Jay are meant together. Knowing Liz, she'll do whatever it takes if she thinks it'll make you happy and right now, she thinks that bringing Jay to you will help her achieve her dream. "You should go now. The art room is usually empty around this hour, so YN is the only one there." She ushers.
Smiling appreciably, Jay nods and thanks her gratefully. Jay doesn't question why YNs supposed best friend sells him the information so easily. Aren't best friends supposed to hate the guys who made their friends cry? Oh god, Jay didn't even think about it before, but he could've made you cry. The thought just makes Jays heart ache even harder and the feeling of self disgust seeps back in his system again. Nonetheless, he's grateful that Liz is giving him the chance to make it up and explain himself to you. He's determined to do so and if things go better than planned, he might come back to your good graces.
Before making his way towards the art room, he makes a detour and heads towards his locker. There, hangs the same jacket you wore the night he was about to love you deeper and the same night where he had unintentionally broken your heart. 
Securing the jacket in his hands, he catches a whiff of your scent on it and he can't help but bury his face in it, savouring and trying to imprint your scent into his brain. The possibility of losing you is great. If you decide that you don't want Jay anymore, he'll at least have your scent to carry him out through his life. Stray tears leave his eyes at the thought, heart wrenching as it struggles to handle such a sorrowful thought. He's praying to every God above and below for some sort of miracle, for him to be forgiven. He swears with his life that if some supernatural phenomenon does happen and you end up loving him, Jay's not going to mess around anymore. He's going to be yours to own solely. He's going to turn his life around for good. Fuck that wretched game. Fuck winning. He doesn't care about any of it at all. If he's being honest, even if you don't take him back, he's never going to participate in playing that silly game ever again. There's not a chance in this world he's ever going to get over you and there's an even bigger chance that he's never going to have sex with anyone else other than you. Abstinence is fine, he doesn't care. He knows he's not going to get you back with that, but he's trying to make a statement here, people. And plus, he has to start somewhere, right?
Peeking inside through the small gap he made on the door, he finds you sitting in front of a canvas with your back turned to him. Just like what Liz said, there was no other occupant in the room, but you. 
With your back turned to him, he's able to see what you're painting on your canvas. It's a picture of what seems to be a field of green. A huge tree is painted on the side of the canvas while two figures of a couple seem to be sitting down on a blanket. He stares at your canvas in awe, amazed at how something so breathtaking can come out using only someone's mere hands. His eyes are entranced, unable to look away as you stroke your brush on the canvas with so much confidence, unnerved of the possibility of making any sort of mistake. But, even if you were to ever make a wrong stroke, he's already sure that with the way your hands move so freely on the canvas, you can make even the ugliest of things attractive.
"If you're going to keep staring at me like that then just come in. You aren't really doing a subtle job at stalking me." Your voice catches Jay off guard. It makes him stumble on his own feet, falling down on his butt on the ground, slamming the door back on the wall with him along the way. Jay's cheeks flare up as once again, he has embarrassed himself in front of you. 
"S-Sorry." He stutters out, feeling flustered now that he's in your presence. Everything he's planned to tell you dissipates and it feels like he's choking. Your tone is vicious and it's clear to Jay that you're angry at him. He has to compose himself fast so he can't anger you any more by wasting your time.  Taking a deep breath, Jay breathes in and out, trying to tame his heart. It proves to be harder than expected however when he locks eyes with you, brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line.
"Why're you here?" You ask in a tone so cold and monotone that Jay almost whimpers. It's been a while since you've used such a way of speaking with him. The last instance he could remember was when you had met for the first time. But even back then, your tone was welcoming to Jay in a sense that he could tease you. 
This time, however, it's serious and you're angry. There's no room to joke, no room to tease and Jay feels like he's going to suffocate. He's never been this nervous to be around you. It's always him being comfortable, teasing, and messing around while you react to his jokes. This is too harsh for the poor boys heart and he just wants to be forgiven already.
"I— I came here… to… to—" He's mustering up the courage to speak, but it's hard when your stare is so intimidating.
You cut him off before he could stutter even more. "To, what? Don't waste my time, Jay." You say, harshly. "I don't want to see you right now so get to the point."
"Y-Your jacket!" He says, feeling a thin streak of sweat running down his temple as he utters out the first thing that comes to mind. "You left your jacket at Jakes house. Here." The boy murmurs before shuffling closer to you to pull out the said jacket you had left.
Looking at Jay blankly as if feeling dumbfounded, you then stare back and forth between him and his outstretched arm before taking the jacket from him slowly. At first, his grip on the jacket makes it seem like he doesn't want to hand it over to you. It's when you quirk an eyebrow up to question him does his grip relent, letting you take the jacket. "Thanks…"
You should be angrier, colder, you say to yourself. That was the initial plan; to live on the rest of your life ignoring Jay so you could forget about the love you have for him. But why is it that when the time came to execute your plan, you backed out? After what he did, your feelings should've been gone and yet, why do you feel such an immense sense of longing whenever you look at him and he's not by your side. It's impossible to ignore him, and it's even harder to do so when your heart yearns for his presence. It's suffocating having to be without him. You feel as if you were ripped in half, broken and can only be fixed by one person.
You wanted to be logical, you wanted to hear him out because maybe, just maybe, he actually cared for you. If he did and you didn't hear him out now, then you would've lived the rest of your life filled with sorrow and dread. You wait for him, watching him as he fumbles with the buttons of his practice attire. 
"Do you need anything else?" You know your tone is harsh, but you can't help it. You want to show him that you're mad, that you want an explanation, but you can't beg. No, you just can't. So, instead, you give him the decision to flip the coin whether or not he's going to explain himself. You just want one thing to come out of his mouth besides the word sorry. Just one thing. You need to know if he's true, if what the both of you had was real, because if you don't, you're going to go crazy. Love makes you crazy and it's ruthless, but for Jay, you won't hesitate to dive back in and eperience every struggle.
"I… I wanted to say sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you, YN." He says as a few moments pass with the both of you just staring at each other, savoring your possible last moments together if either of you makes the decision to reject the other. Jay needed to get his act together and tell you how he feels. He wants you and he's willing to fight for it. "I just wanna say that… that I'm in love with you. I really do. And before you say anything, can you please let me explain myself?" He begs, eyes filled with desperation.
Silently, you nod, letting him let out the words he wants to say as you try to process his words. He loves you. The one phrase you wanted to hear from him, it's there, he just said it to you. All this time worrying about whether or not he actually loved you was all just for nothing. Deep inside, your heart feels alive and joyful. It may sound stupid, but with those simple words, you already feel like it's already worth forgiving him.
Watching Jay exhale almost made you want to giggle. But of course, wanting to intimidate him, you refrain from doing so. 
"I love you, okay? A-And it's okay if you don't like me back. I mean, it— it isn't okay, but I would respect it." He stutters, cursing his awkward nature for coming out while he's in such a situation. "I just… My feelings for you, they were all real. Please believe me because I really do love you. My heart, I-It's never done this before, but whenever I think of you, it just starts hurting and it only stops when I'm finally next to you. I guess, in a way, you kinda… uhm, complete me." Feeling shy, he mutters the last part, debating whether or not it was too cheesy to say or not, but he ended up saying it either way out of nervousness. 
When he looks back at you to see your reaction, you only nod. Taking that as a sign that you're permitting him to continue, he does. "A-And about the game. The game… I'll be honest with you, I completely forgot about it. I promise, I never intended to take pictures of you that night. Honestly, just— just fuck the game, in general! Will you be my girlfriend, instead?" Jays mouth acts before he could stop himself from unintentionally spilling the words out.
Hear me out, it's not like Jay doesn't want you to be his girlfriend, he just doesn't think now is a good time to ask. Since you haven't said anything, you're still technically mad at him. He just couldn't help but feel carried away as he poured his heart out and of course, his heart also wanted to ask the very question he thought should come in last. 
Jay slaps his mouth shut as he's struck with bafflement. "I— I'm so sorry, YN! Ididn'tmeantoaskyouthatallofasudden. Iknowarelationshipisthelastthingyouwantfrommeanditotallyunderstanditifyourejectme!" He stammers all in one breath in an attempt to redeem himself.
Thinking he had completely fucked up his chances, Jay takes buries his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at you. Perhaps, if he looked up, he would've seen the amused smile on your face as you watch the boy cringe at himself. He continues to drown himself in embarrassment, chanting an endless degree of apologies as you sit there. Eventually, you start to giggle as you watch him. The euphoric noise pulls Jay out of his self-humiliation, now looking at you with unbelieving eyes as he watches you continue to burst into a fit of giggles. Throwing your head back as you clutch your stomach while wiping the non existent tears in your eyes, eventually making Jay realise that you aren't mad at him anymore.
Still though, he looks at you warily, wondering if this is a trap and that you're actually about to yell at him. He waits for a scream to tell him to leave, but nothing comes. "YN?" He asks you when you've calmed down.
"Oh, Jay." You manage to say in between deep breaths as you try to compose yourself. "You're just the cutest thing ever."
"I.. Wh—" He stumbles on his words, unsure of what to say nor what's happening. "Huh?"
He's just too cute! Ugh, you just want to squish his cheeks together. It's as if all the anger in your body has eroded with those simple words of affirmation. Honestly, it might seem like you're letting him get off the hook so easily, but what can you do? The boy has you wrapped around his fingers.
"I…" He trails off, unable to form words as he stands with your arms wrapped around the span of his thighs while your head rested on top of his toned stomach. "You really don't hate me?"
Smiling, you open your arms for Jay, spreading your legs in the process so he can step closer to you. When he does, you take him in your arms in a huge hug.
Jays body grows stiff, the situation still feeling odd to him. It was that easy? He was so ready to drop down his knees in front of you and start begging for you to take him back, to call himself worthless, to tell you that he's really really changed and that if you didn't believe him, he'll try his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affection.
Chuckling against his stomach, you nod, head rubbing on his skin before you tighten your arms around him as if to prove that you were serious. You can feel the boys sincerity through his words; how honest and true his feelings are. Although your wall has already been slowly chipping down, now, you let it fall completely. Your guard is no more and you've willingly pulled it down for only Jay to enter.
This time, you're dedicated not to make anymore accusations. You believed in Yunjin too quickly, and that was your fault. You put yours and Jays relationship at risk, and that was also your fault. Even though you've made so many mistakes, Jay is still at your front door, knocking and asking if he could enter. Despite hurting him, he's still begging for you to take him back. In a way, you feel bad for Jay. There's a part of you that thinks that because you've hurt him so much, you shouldn't have the privilege of being with him anymore. But Jay only wants you; your love, your touch, and your kisses. He doesn't want anyone else and he's willing to take the pain that comes with loving you because after all, what's love without a little pain? Jay's a masochist after all.
"I hope you know I'm not going to continue playing your little game, Jay." You say as you pull away to get a good look at him.
"I wasn't going to ask you to play the game in the first place." He replies, confidence slowly building up as the hope for a romantic relationship with you bubbles. "But if you want, you can just play with me instead." 
Taking a bold move, Jay leans his face downwards, closer to yours. Jay eyes the way you bite your lips while your own locks onto the attractive cut in the middle of his bottom lip. You want to lick it, to kiss it again, but you hold yourself back, wanting to tease the boy more.
At his offer, fire spreads through your eyes like wildfire and it doesn't help the fact that he's so close to you as you try to contain yourself from jumping him. Jay looks so hot when he's confident, when he's cocky. You remember a time where you used to hate this look on him and his other peers, but look at you now. With Jays classic smirk on his lips, it sets your mind into a frenzy and you're on the verge of losing all your self control. It's only a matter of time until you break, but you hope to god Jay crumbles first, for the sake of your pride. 
You can see the determination in Jays eyes and it only makes you swell with pride how eager the boy is to have you. With that being said, you wonder and ask him with a teasing tone. "Are you normally this shameless Jay?"
"Shameless?" He asks in such an innocent manner you almost forget how close he is to you without your permission. "I'm only like this towards you." He says, smiling cheekily.
"Ah," You let out, nodding your head before telling it to the side. Smirking, "You don't let girls go down on you normally, hm?"
"No," He answers, eyes trained to you and voice sounding far off and breathless as if in a trance. "Only you."
That's it. That was the last straw and now, your resolve is completely broken. The initial plan to keep things PG is thrown out the window. Now, you just want to have him, kiss him, lick him, break him.
Just like how he's so in control whenever he's in the field, you're going to play with him whichever way you want.
"Aw," You coo, hands brushing his hair back before using your nails to scratch behind his ear, like how you would when tending to a cat. "Is my kitty that needy?"
With the way Jays eyes look, you can tell he wants to close the gap and bring himself closer to you, however, before he could, your hand squishes both his cheeks as you hold him in place. Dejected, Jay whines and his mouth forms into a pout. His eyes plead for you to let him near and you're certainly not blind to the way his eyes yearn pleadingly while looking at the smirk coating your lips, silently begging for you to let him kiss you. Jay's used to getting what he wants, and he wants you. You're willing to give him what he wants of course, but not without teasing him first.
Having been caught so easily, he blushes at your question, wanting to look away in embarrassment, but your grip on his cheeks are hindering him from doing so. Then, he whines, both from the restriction and the nickname you gave him. "Answer me first, please." He meekly says, voice sounding small.
"Answer what, kitty?"
Jay blushes even harder, whining as he knows damn well you're aware of what question he's talking about. "Be my…" He starts, but his voice falters afterwards when he catches you staring at him with a teasing smirk on your face.
Biting your lips to conceal your laughter, you continue to mock him, loving the flustered look on someone so boisterous like Jay. "Be your, what?"
"Fuck," He mutters when you decide to take your teasing one step farther by standing up and wrapping your arms around the small of Jays waist, pulling his body close to you to the point where your noises touch. "Will you… be… my girlfriend?"
"There you go, baby." You say in a childish tone, applauding Jay for finally being able to mutter the question. Hearing another pet name come out of you makes Jay even shier than he was before, head now burying into your neck as he tries to conceal his feverous blush. "But, yes, Jay. I'll gladly be your girlfriend."
Fireworks erupt in Jays stomach, now feeling even bubblier as you accept him as your boyfriend. Unable to contain his happiness, Jay buries his head deeper into your neck while his buff arms wrap around your thighs so he can lift you up and spin you around. Both yours and Jays laughter fill the vacant room, uncaring whether or not someone in the halls might hear. They'll think the two of you are crazy, but you don't care. All you care about is the happiness of finally being complete and whole.
"Can I kiss you now?" Jay asks all too quickly as he carefully sets you down.
Laughing at your boyfriends eagerness, you nod, letting Jay capture your lips in his.
The kiss is innocent and light, but most importantly, it's perfect. It's not your first time kissing Jay, yet, there's something different about this time. Maybe, it's because now, neither of you are intoxicated. Maybe, because now, the two of you have shown your love for each other. Neither Jay nor can you suppress your joyous smiles as the both of you continue to kiss each other despite your teeth hitting from time to time. 
You hold Jays head still so you could properly kiss him and this time, you don't hesitate to kiss him harder in order to show how much passion and care you have for the boy. Of course, Jay immediately responds. It's like his second nature now. If you kiss him, his body automatically moves to answer even before his brain can process what's happening.
Jay tilts his head to the side, deepening your kiss and letting out a muffled moan when you slide your tongue past his mouth. For the second time, he lets you explore every crevice of his mouth, tangling his tongue with yours from time to time. You hum into the kiss when you feel Jays hands slide down to cup your ass. If it were any other day, you would've slapped Jays hand away while you scolded him, telling him how bold he's getting without your permission. But for now, you let him enjoy himself, let him explore and caress every part of your body. It's like he's trying to familiarise himself with his new property and like any other new owner, he wants to see everything bare and naked.
When you bite down hard on his lip, Jay whimpers, hand clutching your shirt as he looks at you with a gaze that tells you he wants something. Releasing the skin with one final nibble, he talks, "Let me fuck you." 
Jay should've seen it coming. He knows you're a tease, and that you'd never let him take the easy way in life. When you chuckle at his request, he knows he's in for the time of his life. "No."
"No?" He asks, unsure whether you really won't let him do anything despite showing the same amount of eagerness.
You hum, nodding. "No."
"Uhm, then…" He asks, shifting his weight between his legs awkwardly.
"I have something else planned for you." You tell him, a mischievous grin set on your face as your hand traces his shoulder in an attempt to help soothe his abnormally quick heartbeat "Be my muse again."
Dumbfounded, Jay looks at you with furrowed brows wondering why you so suddenly asked to paint him out of nowhere. But despite that, Jay agrees because at the end of the day, he'll do whatever you ask of him.
Seeing him nod, you bite your lips before giving his lips a quick peck. You guide him to sit on a chair a few inches in front of your easel. Placing yourself in between his legs, you ruffle Jays hair in a way that makes him look sweet and edible. You don't let a single hair go untouched as you hands rake his scalp and Jay only sighs in delight as he lets you do whatever you want to him and his body.
Finally deciding that you're done, you take a step back to admire the image of Jay that you've created; hair tousled like the two of you had been making out for hours, lips slightly swollen, and eyes looking at you wide and expecting. 
You let out a hum in approval as Jay watches you saunter back to stand in front of your canvas. "Take your shirt off." You instruct while your eyes stay occupied with picking the colors you want to use for your portrait.
When you're finally able to draw out your palette, you look at Jay. You raise an eyebrow at him, ignoring the shocked look on his face as his shirt still clings onto his body. Realising that he hadn't misheard you, he quickly shuffles to take his shirt off, letting it fall gently onto the floor close to where he sat. He looks at you expectantly, wondering if there's anything else you'd like for him to do. 
You let out a hum as you ponder, chin resting on your palms while you tap your feet on the hard ground. "Take your pants off too."
Now, Jay has an idea of what you want to do and he's just as excited as you are. So, after quickly kicking his pants off, he stays on alert for your next instructions. 
"Oh, Jay." You dreamily sigh, looking at your boyfriend as if he was your prey. "You look so good right now. I can just eat you out."
The fog in Jays mind is moving quicker than usual as now, It's actually you talking to him and not just his imagination creating scenarios for him. The way you talk to him is making him go crazy and he can feel his dick in his pants rapidly hardening despite you not touching him. 
"Do it." He tells you while his body looks for your touch. 
When he looks at you with strong eyes, you only laugh at him. "Be good, baby. Don't wanna ruin my portrait, don't you?"
"Fuck the portrait. I wanna fuck you." He curses, voice strong and demanding, both traits you aren't seeking as of the moment.
You click your tongue at how disobedient Jay is, rolling your eyes as you warn him that if does something he isn't told to, he's going to get punished. 
It's clear that Jay wants to challenge you when he shakes in his seat out of unruliness. It seems as if Jay doesn't believe your warnings, doesn't believe that you'll really punish him if he misbehaves. So, just to prove to him that your words are true and not empty threats, you walk up to Jay and yank his boxers down. Now, Jays dick is exposed to your stare and the cold air, both making Jays length harder. Initially, you had planned to take things easy and paint Jay while he's naked. But now that he's shown you his lack of respect, you're going to kick things up a notch by torturing him. It's a shame you didn't bring a vibrator with you, you could've used it on your brat, but no matter, you have other things planned that'll surely help you tame him.
Taking his dick in your hands, you let a thick glob of your saliva drop down onto his tip, spreading your lubricant around his dick while you jack him off. Jay immediately reacts by bucking his hips into your hand, choking out a surprised moan as he didn't expect for you to touch him so boldly. Despite you clicking your tongue at his actions, you love to see Jay getting desperate. Although your mouth drools at the sight of him fucking your hand while you jack him off, you hold his hips down, planting them on top of the seat as you continue to work on hardening his dick.
"Y-YN." He stutters, voice calling out to you as he closes his eyes and throws his head back in pleasure. "Keep… going."
Loving the reaction Jay's giving you, you gladly fasten the pace of your hand, seeking more of the noises he lets out. "That's it, kitty. Be a good boy and moan for me."
Now, Jay's panting, trying to catch his breath. Opening his eyes, he peeks a glance at you from between his spread legs, only to curse himself off for being so stupid as when Jay thought he could last atleast a few minutes before he blows, it's now cut to mere seconds, the image of you eyeing his dick with hunger making him too horny. "Stop! YN, please. Don't wanna… so soon…"
Hearing his cries, you slow your pace down a bit, grin only widening when you realise how quickly he's getting worked up. You let him recollect himself for a second before resuming back to work. This time, you press the palm of your hand on the tip of his dick. His head is leaking so much precum, it looks like it could amount to the same as your saliva. You collect him in your palm before going back down to the base of his dick. Jay lets out a strangled sob, the pleasure you're giving him feeling too good and despite his attempts to quiet himself down, he's just unable to when you're moving like you know every tick he has. The veins on Jays dick start to come out and it catches your attention so, you take your index finger and trace every vein on his dick with wonder. 
It's not that long before Jay's own high starts building up, and this time he makes it a point to tell you without the intention of stopping. Jay places himself on the edge of his seat, orgasming approaching the faster you jack him off. You focus on his head, taking the head in your fist and circling your wrist. Jays orgasm is right around the corner and before he could reach it, you pull away, leaving him to choke on air while his orgasm dissipates.
You look at Jay with humorous eyes, tongue coming out to lick your lips at the image of him panting heavily with his back leaned onto the chair. When he finally opens his eyes, they're completely drunk. "You're so mean." He pouts, still hung over his ruined orgasm.
Jay looks at you speechless yet again as you never seem to fail to surprise him. He whines, trying to persuade you to come do it to him instead and give up on the painting, but all you do is shut him up, telling him that if he doesn't do as he's told, he's never going to cum.
"I told you to be good." You remind him. "Now, keep touching yourself while I paint you." You command, tossing his dick on his stomach before leaving him to go back and stand in front of your easel.
Noticing the mess on your hand, you smirk before quickly locking eyes with Jay, taking your fingers in your mouth to suck and clean them off as you lick the palms of your fingers. Through that, you got a small whiff of his taste, mouth now watering as you feel your patience running low.
Finally acknowledging your threat, Jay nods his head disappointedly. The boy takes his dick in his hand, finally getting to feel how hard he's gotten and it's painful having to endure more of it. He'll never admit it, but he loves this side of you, loves it when you over power him and boss him around. He'll try to hide his liking for it by misbehaving or by talking back as he knows he'll never hear the end of it if you find out how much he goes crazy for a couple of insulting words from you.
"Go on, big boy. Show me how pretty you are."
And with that, Jay immediately gets to work. Starting off by using the remnants of your spit on his dick, he starts gliding his hand up and down in a slow manner, trying to build up the stimulation so he doesn't get overwhelmed too quickly and cum. From his half opened eyes, he sees a glimpse of you dipping your wide brush onto the circular palette. He's tempted to ask you for a peek as Jay always gets excited whenever you paint him. He feels special whenever he gets to be your muse, often times wanting to do a good job both because it's a portrait of him you're doing and also because he plainly just wants to do his best for you so you could praise him.
It may not seem like it but Jay's a sucker for your praises. It's just masked by how often you scold him for teasing you, but what can the boy do? At this point, teasing is practically his primary love language. He loves the way you react to him when he teases you, how good you are at putting him back in his place. He lives for that shit; annoying you and then paying for it later on. It's an event he won't ever get tired of no matter how often or how long you two do it. 
"Aw, baby." You coo, voice pulling Jay out of his head. 
"Y— ngh, yeah?" He seethes out, dick twitching uncontrollably because of your stare. 
"Your head looks so angry, kitty." You comment, chin nudging towards his direction. 
Indeed, his head is angry and not only that, but his body feels like it's on fire. Your words provide him not a single drop of help with keeping his orgasm at bay, mind only going crazier as he listens to all the dirty words you throw at him. "That's a good boy. You look so hot right now, Jay. Painting you always feels so nice."
With the quickening pace of his hand, Jay can feel how close he is to cumming. His only regret is telling you because the moment he announces that he's about to cum, you tell him to stop.
Despite Jays willingness, his body only abides to your words and thus, he has no choice but to halt his movements. Jay cries out, small tears trickling down the corner of his eyes at having been denied his orgasm twice. With pleading eyes, Jay sends a look of longing towards you, however, it gets ignored as you busy yourself with finishing a rough outline of Jays body. 
He calls out to you like a lost baby, pout only growing as he tries to make himself look cuter, hoping that you'd take pity on him. "Yes, baby?" You ask, head popping up at the side of the canvas to look at Jay.
"I need you, YN.” He answers, hand still wrapped around his dick as he bites down on his lip. The sight of him makes you wet and it's hard to resist him when he looks this amazing.  Because of the sweat, Jays abs are now glistening, the light shining through the window highlighting each pack of his muscle. When Jay pumps his dick, his stomach can't help but clench involuntarily at the stimulation, making it so that his abs flexed at the motion in an arousing manner.
You can't take it anymore, even just the thought of him makes your pussy wetter. All you want to do is plant your hands around Jay and that’s exactly what you're planning to do— after you finish your portrait. Jay doesn’t need to wait longer though. You only need to do a few more messy outlines before finishing. To be honest, when you asked him to sit down and be your muse again, you didn't expect to get technical with all the details, knowing deep down how little self-control you have when it comes to handling Jay. Like him, you just melt with every slightest touch he gives. You’re just better at concealing it.
Finishing off the portrait with highlights on his biceps, you nearly throw both your palette and paintbrush away in a rush to get to Jay. You don't even try to conceal the eagerness in you as you capture Jays lips in yours, turning it into a full on makeout session not even seconds after. A hand comes up to tangle into the strands of his hair, pulling and gripping onto his locks, making Jay grunt as your other hand grazes over curve of his collarbone, nails scratching his skin from time to time, eliciting a moan from the boy under you.
Alas, you’re finally on him and it’s everything Jay has ever wanted. Gone is the poor simulation of you in his mind because it just doesn't compare to the real thing. You haven’t even done much to him and yet he’s already moaning into your mouth like your fucking him. Jay doesn’t care if he looks desperate anymore. He’s waited long enough and now that you’re here, he’s not going to hold anything back.
Jay whines when you leave his mouth, wondering why you’d put him through this misery. He ends up eating his words soon after though when he feels your lips kissing the side of his neck. The kisses you plant are ticklish, making Jay recoil and giggle. Finding him cute, you smile at your boyfriend with adoration, eyes twinkling with love as he continues to laugh when you chase him and dive back into his neck. 
It’s cute for a moment while you plant a mix of short and sweet kisses all over Jays neck. Occasionally, Jay giggles, unable to contain his laughter as he grips on to your hips, making sure that you’re still close to him no matter what. However, the said innocent kisses soon turn into erotic ones when you sit yourself on his lap and right next to his erect penis. You take the same arm that used to be knotted in Jays hair, now placing them on top of his dick. Your lips go back to clash with his, spit mixing with each other as you let him suck on the bottom of your lip. Your hand starts pumping Jays dick at a languid pace, body leaning closer to his so that you’re chest to chest with him. Your free hand rests on top of Jays heart, feeling the rhythm of his heart beneath his skin.
Jay leans his head back, letting you kiss all over his throat. "Mark me."
"What’s the magic word, baby?" You ask, licking a long line on Jays neck.
Moaning, he answers, "Please. Please, YN. Mark me. Wan’ show everyone ’m yours."
"There we go." You tell him, patting his head. "That's a good, kitty." 
As per his request, you start to suck on Jays neck harder with the intent of creating bruises on his skin. Jay thanks you with a loud moan, hand wrapping around your body as he thrusts up into your hand. You plant hickeys all over Jays skin, not forgetting to lick it better afterwards to soothe his abused flesh.
Time goes on with you and Jay just making out with each other, limbs tangling in a desperate attempt to be closer. It’s not enough anymore as both of your bodies start to crave each other harder— not to mention the fact that Jay’s leaking so much into your hand, you’re afraid his dick is going to have a serious issue if he doesn't come sooner. And so, using that as an excuse, you finally stand up to pull your underwear down and hiking the pencil skirt you wore upwards, letting it sit on your waist. 
The boy stares at you with wide eyes filled with wonder, mouth hanging open as he eyes you pussy in front of him.  Noticing his intense stare, you chuckle, finding him adorable even in this state. ‘’You want it, honey?’’
‘’God, yes. Give it to me.’’ Is that even a question? Of course he wants to have a taste of you. It’s all he’s ever been thinking about so, of course he’s going to say yes.
Wrapping his hands around your thighs, Jay pulls you to him abruptly, making you yelp. Spreading your legs apart, Jay slides his nose in between your folds and inhales your scent of arousal. Your hands ravel themselves into Jays hair where you feel his nose bump into your clit. You’re so horny, the slightest touch already has your knees weak.
Jay then gets to work when you push his head towards your cunt, taking that as his signal. His tongue dives into your wetness, immediately groaning against your vagina when he finally gets to taste you. The vibrations made by his mouth sends shocks of pleasure throughout your body, feeling it tingle harsher when Jay starts to lap onto your hole. 
"Jay, baby," You moan, rolling your hips harder into his face.
Unable to talk, Jay replies to you with a hum, pressing his tongue harder and making you buck against his face. Jays pace picks up when he hears the way you’re moaning for him. He wants to hear more, wants to hear how good he is at eating you out. He’s desperate for more so, he shifts his attention from your hole to your clit instead, wanting to see your reaction. When Jay opens his eyes, he had to desperately pray to all the deities in this world just so he could compose himself and not cum at the sight in front of you. There you are, with your back arched, one hand pressed on to the back of his head to keep him place while the other tangles with your own hair. Your face is contorted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes closed, and lips caught in between your teeth, Your mouth opens from time to time to give Jay more affirmation, whether it’s in the form of moans, grunts, whines, or words, he doesn’t care, he’ll take what he can get.
"Baby— fuck," You hiss, thighs shaking as you feel your orgasm near. "I’m so close, baby. Keep going."
Only replying with a firm nod and a low hum, Jay fastens his movement onto your clit, circling his muscle around the bud. The action makes you go crazy, hands now gripping on to Jays hair with force as you concentrate on achieving your orgasm. It’s so near that you start shaking, moans growing louder when all of a sudden, everything is ripped away from you. 
Jay backs away from you with a smirk, feeling proud of what he did as he grins at you in a cocky manner despite his mouth and chin being covered by a mixture of his saliva and your wetness. 
You should’ve known that was going to happen. It’s Jays nature to tease you. Plus, you knew he’d get back at you for edging him so many times in the past. The thought just flew out of your head, too focused on the thought of cumming. Frustrated, you tug on Jay's hair, trying to get back at him for what he did. Even though you didn’t get the chance to cum, your thighs are still quivering like they did. 
‘’Hey hey, you can’t get mad at me.’’ He says, backing off while he stays seated on the chair when he sees the way you eye him. ‘’If I don’t cum, you shouldn't either. We should cum together, riiight?’’ He says, dragging out the last word in a teasing voice.
‘’True,’’ You agreed before abruptly pulling him by his hand towards the huge table in the corner of the room. You take your place on top of the table, leaving him there to stand in between your legs. With your thighs spread open, Jay gets a clear view of your leaking vagina as well as your throbbing clit. Jays mouth waters at the sight, feeling enticed to just lean forward and eat you out again. But before he gets to, your legs wrap themselves around him, pulling him forward. His dick presses perfectly into your vagina and it even gets coated with some of your wetness. The two of you moan in unison, both desperate for their release. 
As the both of you can’t wait any longer, you throw him the silver packet that’s been hiding inside your chest pocket, telling him to put it on. Jay does so without complaint, grateful that he’s finally getting some pussy after such a long time. 
He almost can’t believe this is actually happening. He thinks that at any moment now, he’s going to wake up from this wet dream alone and without you. But now is not the time to dwell on such thoughts when you’re literally right in front of him, with your legs spread, eyes keenly watching as he slides the condom on his dick with shaking hands.
Jay lines himself with your cunt, breath quickening as he readies himself for what's to come. It's been awhile since he's done this with anyone, and the nerves are getting to him. Now that the real thing is hereward, all the skills he learned in the past seem to flow out of his head. 
What if he doesn't perform well, would you be disappointed? 
What is he even talking about? Of course you're going to be disappointed. All that talk about wanting to fuck you yet, he can't can't use his dick right.  What kind of woman wants their man to be so incapable? Obviously, not you. Jay can tell from the way you carry yourself that you wouldn't lower your standards for anything other than perfect and yet, here Jay is, your boyfriend.
Still, his baseless doubts doesn't stop plaguing his mind. His breath is shaking, palms starting to sweat as he eyes your entrance. Jay wants to do good, show you that he's worth the risk you took. Jay's not a fool. He knows his reputation around school. That he's a manwhore that gets around by flirting with multiple girls at once. Not only that, but he knows how much you despise the varsity team. Yet, here you are, ready to let him fuck you. It means more to him than you think. You letting him be this close to you means that you trust him enough to show your most vulnerable parts and that just makes Jay even more nervous.
From where you laid, you watch with soft eyes as Jays hands start to shake. Your own hands shooing his off so you can put his dick inside you yourself. "You don't have to be so nervous, baby. Here, let me do it."
Placing the head of his dick inside your vagina, the both of you groan simultaneously. "Jay— fuck. You're so big, kitty."
Hearing you moan his name and compliment him at the same time makes Jays thighs tremble, the feeling of being inside is you is too overwhelming and he feels like his knees are about to fold. Noticing this, you take Jays hands in yours, letting them rest on the bottom of your stomach to provide him with some support. 
He knows you're just trying to help him, but it really isn't working. Placing his hands there is only driving him nuts as once he was able to fully push his whole dick inside you, he got to feel the outline of his length inside when he pressed down on your abdomen.
"I… I can—" Jay's trying his best to talk, he really is, but whenever he tries, it just gets cut off with a sound of a sound of appreciation.
"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?"
Jay responds with a semi loud sob as he nods his head to your question.
"Take it easy, honey." You tell him, patting his cheek to console the worried boy. "I'm not going anywhere."
You're not going anywhere.
That's when Jay calms down. Hearing you say those words put his thoughts at ease. No matter what happens, you'll be there beside him so Jay shouldn't worry so much about messing up. He has your whole lives to love you, your whole lives to treat you like his queen. It makes Jay realise that he shouldn't be so caught up on trying to be perfect. I mean, he wants to perform well and he knows he'll achieve that when he shakes these invasive thoughts away. Now knowing what to do, Jay shakes to get a grip of himself and before you know it, he's already thrusting his hips into your cunt.
You release a dragged moan, hands pulling Jays head down so the two of you can kiss each other. Angling your head to the side, you put your tongue inside Jay and he gladly sucks on your muscle. Amidst the messy kiss you and Jay share, drool starts to seep past between your lips and pooling down your chin. 
The urge to hold on to something arises and he can only think of your boobs to grip onto. Muttering the request to you, Jay's quick to act as the moment you tell him that he can, he's already ripping your blouse open and tearing your bra down. Jay leaves the sanctuary of your lips, wanting to give your boobs the attention they deserve. Your nipples lay there erect, inviting Jay on to lay his tongue flat on your nub. He licks the skin greedily before sucking on your skin harsher while he busies himself with groping your other breast. 
Both his movements inside you and on your tits are driving your mind crazy and you can't help but scratch your nails onto his broad back, trying to grasp back a sense of reality. His movements are so good and so precise, you can feel yourself slipping between realities. Jay does a good job at finding the spot your crazy for the most as once you start to thrash around under his hold, he knew he was hitting your g-spot, and your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate to abuse it. It only makes you crazier, moans spilling out uncontrollably as it mixes with his own. 
The noises Jay releases are euphoric and you don't hold back from commenting on it. "You sound so pretty, Jay. Keep moaning and I'm gonna cum."
Those words are what fuels Jay to thrust into you with more vigor. It's different from the casual pace he had used on you beforehand. Now, his pace is harder and rougher with the goal of making you cum in his mind. He wants to see you fall apart under him, wants to see the face and the noises you make when he makes you cream on his cock. Jay spreads your thighs apart, wanting to reach a deeper part of you.
Feeling his own high coming, Jay announces, "Wanna cum with you." 
Despite being so close, you nod your head, willing yourself not to cum. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when Jay starts hitting that specific spot inside you faster, making you release a loud moan. "Shit! Right there, honey. You're doing so fucking good. Baby, cum for me."
With the way your pussy's squeezing the entirety of Jays cock, milking him for his release, Jay can't help but go feral, especially when you insert such dirty words through his ear. The sweat on Jays body paints a perfect picture of him, his muscles flexing every time he moves. His thrusts become more frantic and less rhythmic as he feels his high washing over him and before he knew it, he's already gripping both of your breasts in his palm, lips latching on to yours as the both of you cum.
Jays body lurches forwards, making him push his hips deeper. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, body becoming numb as your skin pressed onto his lips muffle his cries. Jay spurts his cum inside the plastic, some of it even spilling out because of how much he'd cum. After, he lets himself thrust into you at a languid pace, letting the both of you ride off your highs together. 
"I love you, too by the way." Panting, you say, realising you left his confession without an answer. 
He chuckled against your neck and then smiling right after because of how happy he was. "I love you more." He hmphs, egging you on for a challenge.
"Oh, yeah? I doubt it." You reply with a mischievous grin, leaning up to rub your nose against Jays. While doing so, your eyes catch a glimpse of the portrait you had previously made. "Think they’ll still accept your entry even though it’s not me on the picture?’’
Looking at you, your eyes lead him towards where your gaze is focused. He blushes, completely forgetting the naked painting you did just minutes prior. Catching on to what you were saying, Jay jokes, "They better. I need an ego boost after all that torture you put me through."
That day, you created your best artwork while Jay got his ticket to victory.
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realisticfanfictions · 3 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 3.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two.
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: This one is slightly shorter, but it expands more on Y/N's chartacter and finally introduces her to the rest of the crew! BTW, this series may or may not have turned me into a Taz Skyler fan.
Word Count is 3,475. Hope you enjoy!
Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback
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Did you overreact? No. Did you feel bad when you saw the look on Sanji's face as he watched you leave the kitchen? Why the fuck would you? You took a left down the almost endless corridors that made up the Baratie. It wasn't your fault that some kid thought you were a pirate, or 'acted like one', whatever the hell that meant. No, you did know what that meant, and it pissed you off. He meant that you were aggressive, or uncouth, or whatever other adjective fit the slobbering, passed out pirates that littered the Baratie's deck come morning. The same ones that spent the entire night making disgusting comments about how they'd like to force themselves onto the waitresses, or pull a gun out just for the hell of it. But you know what? It wasn't your fault you were like this. You were a byproduct of the most fucked up parts of the world, forged from the suffering of years past and created into what you were by the Devil himself.
And it certainly wasn't your fault when that same kid, the foolish, naive and sheltered brat who had the gull to say that you acted like that, tried to recruit your boyfriend into that cult they called piracy and you got upset. "Freedom, my ass." You hissed under your breath, venom seeping off of every word. You weren't a good person, but at least you didn't try to rip off a restaurant under the guise of being the 'Future King of the Pirates'. You didn't indoctrinate people into that abhorrent lifestyle and pretend that it was all about adventure, and not about pillaging and murder. And you certainly don't pretend that pirates are innocent, little fucking sailors on the high sea singing sea shanties all day long, when all they're good for is taking,
and taking,
and TAKING!
With a yell, you drove your fist into the wall, sending shards of wood scattering in a million directions. You didn't even realise that you were shaking until you fell against the wall, your legs morphing into some gelatinous abomination that couldn't even keep you upright. Did you overreact? The hole in the wall was your answer.
One, you took a deep breath. You're lucky you have a whipped boyfriend who you've somehow conned into putting up with you even though you're fucking nuts.
Two, you exhaled. No, you both have issues and it's pointless to criticise or get hung up on the small things.
Three, your lungs filled with air. You're a fucking disgrace, how dare you storm out there like that?
Four, the carbon left your lungs. You'll need to explain yourself, and apologise for your outburst. You are human and you make mistakes, Sanji will understand. He's good like that.
Five, the air burned as you breathed it in. The amount of mistakes you make is incredible. Your entire existence is one big fucking mistake.
Breathe, (Y/N). Count to five. Breathe in air and breathe out your toxicity. You were a bad person. But, you are stronger than your past, and you deserve better than to be known for your mistakes.
You repeated it like a mantra, a prayer you recited more often than you'd like to admit. The tips of your fingers found themselves entangled in your hair. You overreacted. Why the fuck do you keep overreacting?
"Are you okay?" The voice jolted you back to your senses. With a quiet gasp slipping from your lips, you snapped your head to the source of the sound. There stood someone you vaguely remember serving - a young woman about your age with hair as orange as tangerines. She had a wary look on her face and stood a fair distance from you, but seemed at least somewhat concerned.
You couldn't help but laugh dryly. "I'm alright, thank you." When you untangled your hands from your hair, you tried to ignore the strands that came along with it. "How can I help you?"
Her eyes flicked up and down. "Out of the two of us, I think you're the one who needs help." She paused. "You're our waitress, right? The one who helped us get the table."
By the time she was done speaking, you had pushed yourself off the wall and tugged at the hem of your shirt to drag out any crinkles. "I'm not exactly the model employee at the moment, but that's me. I'm not working currently, but you can always ask if you need something."
A contemplative look crossed her face. "If you're off the clock, why don't you come have a drink?"
You held up a hand. "Sorry, but I'm not really meant to be-"
"It's just a drink." She stated and walked a couple feet toward you. "Just as thanks for the table, and you look like you need one."
Her eyes were honest, and although you could see something hidden far behind them like a memory she was trying to forget, your shoulders dropped and you nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."
She smiles and turns to walk toward what you now realised was the sounds of the bar. With how close you were to well-over one-hundred patrons, you weren't surprised that you were found practically hyperventilating in the corner. You were, however, glad that it was this kind stranger. Or perhaps she wasn't kind at all, you weren't sure yet.
The orange-haired woman brings you past passed out sailors to the back of the deck where the silhouettes of two men already were. "You're (Y/N), right?" She asked as she took a seat and offered you a glass from the table. "I'm Nami." She pointed to the man in the pirate costume noisily slurping out of a ceramic bowl - the Ultimate Tropical Dream, your mind reminded you. "That's Ussop," She then pointed without looking to the man beside her who's eyes hadn't left you since you approached. "And that's Zoro." She nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "Take a seat."
You hesitated, but sat down. Your eyes naturally drifted to the green-haired man, Zoro. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." While you spoke to the group, its true intention was a question. Did he know you?
Zoro sat back and hummed. "Likewise." He grunted and took a swing. No. Then his gaze finally broke from you to the other male. "Pace yourself."
Ussop moaned into his drink and slurped. "I don't think there's any liquor in this, it tastes just like candy."
"Last time I said that, I woke up face down under a table." The swordsman muttered both as an admission of fault and a warning to the naive pirate.
You nodded, taking a quick sip of your own drink. "The Ultimate Tropical Dream has four-seven ounces of rum, four of vodka, and seven of filler. Fucking filthy fads get you shit-faced faster than a fleeting face, but Fred can help with that. He's the fourth one down and sometimes he won't do it, but just needs some persuasion. So when you want to get a Tropical Dream, you force the four to pour four-fourths Warmth North, four-sevens froth, seven-fours broth, no cloth, henceforth no wroth. Got it?"
All three stared in your direction, blinking. "I... think I'm fine, thanks." Ussop replied and took another sip.
"I need a drink." Zoro mutters and brought his glass up to his face. His eyes crossed over to Nami. "That glass have gold on the bottom, or what?" At her confused expression, he tilts his head. "You haven't stopped staring at it."
She looked over at you, and you shrugged. "I'm just a waiter."
Her gaze lingered on you for a second, before going back to Zoro. "You don't think what Luffy did was messed up?"
The swordsman paused and set his drink down. "Yeah. He should've told us." You took a sip out of your own drink as they talked. "But in case you haven't noticed, we've been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho-clowns, killer butlers. What's a vice-admiral gonna do to us?" You almost choked on your drink.
"No, you don't get it." Nami's face shifted between emotions. "I can't get caught, not when I'm so close-" She cut herself off and stared at her cup for a second, before getting up. "Who's ready for another drink? My treat."
Zoro hummed. "My favourite kind of drink." He watched as she walked off, and his gaze turned back to you. "You seem a bit lost."
You huffed. "All I know is my drinking partners are being hunted down by a vice-admiral, of course I'm fucking lost."
For some reason, that caused the uptight man to let out a small chuckle. "Drinking partners, huh?" He commented and swirled the contents of his glass. "Haven't had a drinking partner in a while."
As he spoke, you finished off your glass and set it down with a wince. "Me neither, Sanji's great but can't handle anything with booze in it to save his life."
"That's that waiter boyfriend of yours." He said as he looked at your finished glass and took a sip of his drink. "Where's he now?"
You shrugged. "Your boss tried to recruit him, so I did the mature thing and stormed out."
A smile grew on his face. "Really? That's Luffy for you. Is he joining?"
"No offense, but I don't think he'd wanna run with your type."
At that, his eyes squinted ever so slightly. "My type?"
"Pirates," You reminded him. "He's not really the pillaging type."
"Neither are we."
You hummed. "It's a wonder how you can pay for all this then." You pointed to Ussop, who's now beginning to blink very slowly. "A Tropical Dream costs at least seventy-five berri without all that fancy shit added to it, and everything needs to be paid upfront. I'm looking at this table and... I see about three-hundred berri worth of drinks? Not including other drinks the waitresses must've taken. And I'm pretty sure pirates don't have normal jobs, and you don't seem like hired guns." You leaned back, staring into his eyes. "So if you're not plundering, then who is?"
Zoro stared at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes ghosted over your form, lingering near your thigh where you kept your gun, before lifting back up to your face. He looked away and finished his drink.
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When Nami got back, the tense atmosphere was lifted and you were able to properly enjoy yourself. True to the swordsman's words, Ussop was under the table before he finished his second Vodka Sunrise. He giggled and you had to catch him as he slid down the couch, righting him up with a laugh. “I'm fine.” He slobbed out, his words almost incomprehensibly slurred.
You shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, pushing him into his seat. “I'm pretty sure you're not.” You replied with a small chuckle.
"What'd I tell you?" Zoro asked after he finished his beer with a sigh. "You can't handle your liquor at all."
You smiled and took a sip of your drink. "Sanji can't either, he gets a red face just smelling it."
The shit-faced man, who apparently was a sniper according to Nami, puffed out his chest. "Hey! I can... drink." He pushed off of you and wobbled to his feet. You held out your hands as you watched him stumble forward. "I'm going to get us... more drinks!" He slurred and almost tripped over his feet, but managed to walk himself over in the vague direction of the bar.
You laughed and took a gulp of your drink. "He's certainly a character."
Zoro nodded, face split with his own smile. "Ussop's spirited, but not good with spirits." You both shared a small chuckle and went to drink, but frowned at your empty glass. Hearing Nami chuckle, you looked back up and laughed at the completely distracted Ussop who had begun to drunkenly sway his body around.
"He does have a certain grace about him. Like a frantic, uncoordinated..."
"Sea slug." Zoro contributed with a smirk.
Nami nodded. "That's it. That's what he's like." Her eyes remain fixed on him. "Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world."
Her tone was unusual to say the least, and you placed your glass back down on the table. Zoro was the first to speak. "What are you carrying around that's so heavy?" Whether it was the alcohol, or him feeling more comfortable around you, he didn't so much as look your way when asking the navigator.
Nami's eyes flashed between the both of you. "You have no idea."
You scoffed and pinched a chip from the centre of the table. "You'd be surprised. You're an open book."
Zoro nodded. "And I bet I know more about you than you do about me."
Nami quirked an eyebrow at the both of you. "Yeah right, you both are open books."
"Care to prove it?" When he prompted her, she recoiled slightly but otherwise didn't have much of a reaction. He grabbed the bottle of rum from the table and poured it into some empty shot glasses. "Whoever guesses something right about the other person, that person has to drink." He looked over at you and nudged a glass in your direction. "You in?"
You shrugged. "Sure."
But it seemed as though Nami forgot you were there. She leaned toward Zoro and forced a smile. "Go ahead, tell me all about myself."
He thought about it for a second, then spoke. "I bet you grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one."
"You must be thirsty." Her tone dripped with venom.
"You're saying I'm wrong?"
She paused for a second. "I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just a handful of houses in the centre of a tangerine grove. Drink." You watched her as she spoke, a dreamy look in her eyes before she came back to reality.
He set down his shot glass. "Your turn."
Nami smirked. "I had you read all the way back in Orange town. I'll bet you didn't have any friends as a kid."
"I had friends."
"Swords don't count."
Zoro was quiet. "I had one friend."
The orange-haired woman's smile grew sad. "Hell, one more than I had." She also went quiet. "Drink."
Zoro grew a smile on his face. "Drink." They both had a shot, then he turned to you. "You're quiet, all of a sudden."
You forced a smile. "Just letting you two bond over your miserable childhoods."
Nami let out a scoff, but a smile wormed its way onto her face. "Fine. I'll bet you had a miserable childhood too?"
"Be more specific."
Zoro hummed. "So it was a miserable childhood?" He smirked and looked away, waited a moment, then returned his gaze. "I bet the reason you hate pirates is 'cause you had a really strict marine dad."
You chuckled and shook your head, the comment catching you off guard. "Can't be further from the truth." You replied and raised your shot glass. "Drink."
Nami piped up. "I'll bet you hate pirates because one raided your village."
"I didn't grow up in a village," You gestured to her. "It was privately owned land about three hours from any major landmark. The only way to get there was by trekking through miles of swamp filled with crocodiles the size of ships, or by docking on a tiny piece of coast hidden by whirlpools."
She finished her drink. "Privately owned land?"
"Nobles." You replied. "They owned half the island, and owned all the business on the other half. They were pretentious, entitled and made us live in houses no bigger than a shitter, but they were good people." You pushed down the memory. "Anyway, I'm sick of being asked stuff. I'm going to guess." You cleared your throat and looked to Zoro. "I bet that you grew up never having a real connection with anyone."
He tilted his head and was silent for a moment. "Define 'real connection.'"
You adjusted yourself in your seat. "You've never loved someone and you've never felt loved. That's why it's hard for you to trust people, you've never had anyone to trust."
He gave a half-shrug and took a shot. "Lucky."
You smiled and looked at Nami. "And I bet that you did something you're not proud of."
Her smile didn't fade, but the genuineness of it did. "How do you mean?"
"You have a look in your eye. Concealed guilt. You think you're a bad person because you've done something you think is bad."
"Well, actions speak louder than words."
"You're wrong." You respond flatly. "A child rapist can give to charity, and a serial killer can help a little old lady down a flight of stairs. It doesn't mean they're a good person. A Saint can trip someone, and a child can bully their friend. It doesn't mean they're bad people."
"So, if it's a mistake it can be excused."
"No. It's intent. That's why we forgive people when they trip us, or if someone accidentally splashes us with water - it's not their intent to cause offense or harm. If you don't intend to harm people, then you're not a bad person. if you, say, wish to create a more peaceful world for people to live in, but you intend to enslave others to do so, then you're a bad person."
"Then, what if by doing something important, you have to do something bad?" The look in her eye was fierce, but you could see past that.
"That's different again. If you're on a rescue mission to save orphans or puppies and you're dangling from a ledge with a rope connecting you to another person, wouldn't you have to cut them loose?"
"But, you've still killed them."
"You don't know that. Without having you fall on top of them, they could survive and reunite with you after you've saved the kids or whatever the fuck it is. You're not a terrible person, you're a good person who had to do a terrible thing. You didn't want to." You gestured to her with your drink in hand. "I think you had your orphans you had to save, and you had to cut someone loose."
You both stared at each other, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense and unbearable.
"Hey guys, meet my new best friend." Ussop suddenly landed on your lap and looked behind him. "What'd you say your name was again?"
You looked behind you, and a pit formed in your stomach. There stood a man in a decorative coat with a cross hanging from his neck. You recognised him instantly, and judging from Zoro's expression, he did too. "Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"
Nami, finally tearing her eyes from you, smiled. "Who wants to know?"
Zoro straightened. "You're Dracule Mihawk."
Your hand went toward your gun, but a set of piercing eyes halted your movement. It was like being held in chains, and your fingers refused to move. He loomed over you menacingly. "I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over."
"We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, Zoro?" As smart as she looked, she caught on quick. Zoro rose to his feet, and you were released from your invisible restraints when Mihawk's eyes ghosted over to him. "Zoro?"
The swordsman stepped toward him. "I've been following your career since I was a child. It's an honour to finally meet you, sir."
"Thank you."
He walked past the older swordsman. "Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow, you're going to die."
Your body was thrown into shock, and Nami spoke instead. "What?"
He ignored the both of you and turned to face Mihawk. "I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death."
All of you sobered up quickly, and you grabbed your gun. But Mihawk ignored you, turning to face your drinking companion with the tilt of his head. "I've never heard of you."
"They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter," Like a predator analysing his prey, Mihawk's eyes ghosted over his form. "But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat, and become the greatest swordsman in the world."
"You're serious?"
"Accept my challenge. You'll see how serious I am."
Mihawk paused for a moment, then nodded. "Very well." His strides were long as he approached the young man. "Tomorrow at dawn. And when I'm done with you, pirate hunter, I'll take your captain." The older swordsman's face didn't change, but his walk was different. He disappeared into the shadows of night.
Nami's face was twisted into one of horror. "What have you done?"
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A/N: Wow! This chapter gave me some trouble! It was originally going to be completely different, but the flow was off and it honestly would have ruined Zoro's character. So I ended up having to rewrite all of it. I've been slightly teasing it, but next part will have more action in it! I just wanted to establish character relationships and actually give Y/N reasons to do things, as well as get more of her motivation/backstory out there.
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earthtooz · 11 months
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x : SAY YES TO ME :*+゚
in which: itoshi rin tastes like grape soju, temptation, and adoration, all in one.
warnings: -16 DNI, 2k words, gn!reader, jealous!rin, ANGST but with happy ending, making out, alcohol, reader and rin are in their 20s, party setting, slightly toxic dynamic but it's bc rin's emotionally constipated, swearing.
a/n: thank u @scarahearts for sitting with me through this abomination from 0 to 2000, i started at midnight <33 it is now... we don't speak abt it. don't be like me. anyways, rblgs appreciated and enjoy!!
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itoshi rin is seething.
standing in the corner of the dingy, overrated house party, rin overlooks the partygoers with an expression of distaste whilst nursing a bottle of grape soju. it’s hot, he’s sweaty, and all rin wants to do is leave- but he can’t, because you’re here. 
but you’re talking to some random who should be him, and what’s worse is that said random is far too close to you for his liking.
rin can sense their underlying motivations. knows that because of how they’re looking at you, they want you all to themselves. knows that the way they run their hand through their hair is an attempt of trying to lure you in. knows that the many unnecessary, fleeting touches was to hint towards turning this into something more- rin doesn’t even want to think about it.
“hey, rin!” a voice yells from beside him, bypassing the thumping music. isagi materialises beside him, red solo cup in hand. “are you enjoying the party?”
“fuck off, isagi,” the dark-haired murmurs harshly, not even sparing his fellow soccer player a glance. isagi, who was about to refute rin with a confused exclamation, shuts his mouth and notices the intensity of rin’s glare. 
following his gaze leads to where you stand and through the wild strobe and disco lights, isagi spots your figure and someone else beside you- someone he doesn’t know. putting two and two together (his specialty), isagi works out whatever is wrong with rin rather quickly.
“when will you say something about your feelings for y/n?” he asks. 
rin pretends not to hear him because he wishes he didn’t.
“you’re a fucking idiot, rin, you know that?” 
“what.”
isagi hides his smile of amusement, biting the inside of his cheek. “i said it. are you seriously going to stand here and be miserable over someone talking to y/n when you’ve had so many chances?”
“what are you talking about, dumbass.”
“sure. call me the dumbass, at least i don’t pretend like i don’t care about someone i like.”
rin finally breaks his gaze from you, whipping his head to look at isagi with an offended glare. “huh?”
“you heard me. what are you scared of?” 
the younger out of the two pauses, staring emotionlessly at isagi before scoffing, taking a quick sip from the bottle in his hand and wiping the corner of his lips. “you wouldn’t get it.”
“get what? y/n is into you too, you have made out before on several occasions, so what are you so scared of?” 
rin is silent once again as his thoughts diverge to you- to everything about you that rin has committed to memory and his heart stutters at the mere intervention. even now, in the most pathetic party he’s ever attended, he can’t help but want you.
in fact, here he wants you even more, but isagi doesn’t need to know that.
“leave me alone, fuckhead.”
isagi frowns, knowing that this conversation was not going to go anywhere. if rin is immovable when sober, then it’ll be impossible to change his mind drunk.
“fine,” he huffs. “don’t cry to me about it when y/n finds someone else when that could have been you.”
his words hit a nerve and rin almost drops the bottle in his hands. the dark-haired awakens with a sudden urgency that was previously dormant, suddenly overcome with fear and dread at the idea that isagi has planted within his head.
stupid isagi. fuck that piece of shit. rin hopes he trips and twists his ankle so-
“rin?”
you’re looking at him, and fuck, suddenly he’s away from the corner and standing right in front of you and he doesn’t know what to do. the random looks at him with a repulsive look, clearly unhappy with the sudden intervention, however, there’s no time to think about them when you’re right in front of him, looking at him so concerned and curious.
you’re so gorgeous, it’s unfair. 
“what’s the matter?” you ask. rin hears you over the reverberating bass, it’s easy to when all he’s thinking about is you.
“got a problem?” the stranger parrots, puffing out their chest like some peacock. rin thinks they look stupid.
glancing back at you, he simply mutters a ‘need you’ that you don’t even hear, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of your seat. apart from a few sputters of surprise, there’s no complaint or resistance as he expertly navigates through the halls as if it were his property.
weaving past dozens of partygoers, your mind races in synchronisation with the wild beating of your heart; the only thing grounding you to reality was the firmness of rin’s grip.
when he, somehow, finds an empty hallway that’s secluded from where the majority of people are, he turns around to give you a frazzled look that is swimming with determination. 
then, his hands grab your face to pull you in. 
all of a sudden, his lips are on yours and all you know is him, him, him. rin is moving like he’s done this before- because he has. he has traced the expanse of your body and lips several times before in scenarios just like this, kissing you breathless with dizzying passion and unparalleled desire. he tastes like grape soju and your greatest mistake. 
it’s easy to melt into him, especially when he’s slotting himself against you so perfectly with one hand holding the back of your head and the other on your hip as he carefully leads you backwards. your back hits the cold wall, shielded by his hands, and the hiss of surprise you let out is inhaled by him.
recovering quickly, your arms snake up to wrap around his neck, eliminating any space between the two of you to mould yourselves into one- even if it was just for the night. 
rin parts, heavy pants fanning on your skin as he proceeds to trail kisses along your jawline. he presses his lips so tenderly against your vulnerable skin, a stark contrast to the burning fervour of his previous kiss. 
you wonder when you will stop falling victim to his siren call. 
this was the first time he’s ‘spoken’ to you since you walked in to the party, having ignored your smile and wave of greeting from across the room despite very clearly meeting your eyes. the soccer player in your arms even had the gall to turn around and walk away as if you were some nobody, retreating into the kitchen. his indifference stings and yet, whenever he pulls a stunt like this, you welcome it every time.
when will you finally be able to push him away?
noticing the way you’ve stilled in his grasp, rin pauses and takes his head out of your neck, looking up at you.
“what’s the matter?” he breathes, voice quiet and raspy. 
you push at his shoulder lightly and he loosens his hold, just a little. “we shouldn’t do this,” you murmur, avoiding his teal eyes. 
he flinches like your words burned him. no- you shouldn’t give yourself too much credit, you could never have that much impact on itoshi rin, not like the one he’s had on you.
readjusting yourself, you try to gently coax yourself out of his hold.
“what do you mean?” he questions.
you can’t breathe under the pressure that rin naturally exudes, coupled with the uncontrollable and uncomfortable racing of your heart, it’s almost impossible to breathe. “i mean,” you continue, “that i can’t do this. not with you, not tonight.” 
the dark-haired blinks once, twice, thrice, suddenly filled with a bout of sadness looking at your dejected stance. “y/n?”
“i can’t do this,” you echo, slowly, but surely, distancing yourself away from rin; from the man who has claimed your heart almost a year ago, from the man who has made you feel magical and unreal and disheartened and defeated, all at the same time.
“i like you too much for this to just continue on every time,” you ramble, running a hand down your face. “i can’t be used like this anymore. you know how i feel about you, rin, i know you do, and yet you do this every time.” your voice cracks. “so i’d appreciate it if you just left me alone.”
somehow, rin finds his arms empty and you’re now walking away, back turned to him and hunched, as if protecting your heart from further destruction at his hands. seeing you so uncharacteristically fragile and unlike the you he knows is a punch to the stomach, and the idea of breaking you makes him feel even worse. 
“wait- y/n, please,” he calls, catching up with a few, effortless strides. the soccer player reaches for your shoulder only to have you brush him off. “where are you going?”
you don’t answer.
“what do you mean ‘this’, what do i do every time?”
you turn around to face him. “you go from caring about me to ignoring me to then pulling stunts like this- i’m sick of it, itoshi!” your tone is accusatory and angry. rin gulps. “then you make me question whether or not you like me too, sometimes it feels like you do, then other times it feels like i’m the least important person to you in the world- what is up with that? i’ve had enough!”
the soccer player opens his mouth, hesitating, before shutting it again, unclenching his jaw and fists.
“i do like you,” the dark-haired murmurs after a moment of collecting his thoughts. he feels awkward; so out of place with confronting his emotions and problems like this. “i don’t want anyone but you.” 
rin’s voice wavers towards the end of his sentence. with the harsh house lights illuminating all of him, he feels even more exposed under your gaze. 
you cross your arms. “sure doesn’t feel like it.” 
he’s silent and it’s devastating how impassive he is, especially in the aftermath of your little outburst.
“whatever,” you huff. “i’m going home.”
“wait- don’t go,” rin pleads, voice echoing around the halls and he cringes at the deafening silence that follows. “i’m sorry. i’ve been… selfish.”
your eyes widen slightly. rin? apologising? acknowledging his faults? 
he recalls seeing you with the stranger and all the fury he felt during that moment. what right did he have to simply grab you and pull you with him? what right did he have to drag you away like you were his? “i shouldn’t- i shouldn’t have- i’m sorry, i had no right to do what i did, you’re not mine, but i want you- i really do and-”
“-then why aren’t you acting on it? you know how i feel yet nothing happens- why won’t you say yes to me?”
tentatively and hesitantly, rin takes a few steps towards you, opening his arms. you fall right into him, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace and the scent of his cologne. 
you sigh. “i’m tired, rin.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” he rubs circles on your back. tests his luck by pressing a chaste kiss to your head. “another chance. don’t give up on me yet. please.” he whispers the last word as if it were a delicate promise- as if one wrong move could break you.
“i won’t.” you take your head out of his chest, looking at him with glossy eyes. “but this is definitely the last chance.”
“okay.”
“can you kiss me. please?” 
a small smile dances along rin’s expression and he nods before slowly leaning down, giving you enough time to push him away if you so pleased, but you don’t. instead, you let him press his lips against yours once more.
this time, it’s more gentle and slow. he tastes like love and hope with a dash of grape soju.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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webp-official · 10 months
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I fucking love people’s fan designs for GLaDOS, because they almost universally fall into one of two (2) categories: a) “What if we made a haggard, jaded 50-something milf into a vocaloid idol and made her a virulently toxic lesbian” or b) “What if we made a horrifying mechanical abomination of twisted cable and polymer with no resemblence to the human form and made her a virulently toxic lesbian”
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pix3lplays · 5 months
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I don’t even have words. Thank you all so much!!
Masterlist VI
-Honkai star rail-
Luocha sings religious songs
Luocha x reader: the Abundance Abomination Pt 2
Lying about being reader’s husband
Reader gets wasted at a party
Jing Yuan and Dan Feng: Status
Reader is a figment of their imagination
Player singing affects
Playing with their toddler
As dad things
Reader takes off the mask
Giving them flowers
Sampo’s little sister is in love with Luka
Jing Yuan’s child gets marastruck
Reader is as meek as a sheep
Rainy day fluff with Imbibitor Lunae and Blade
Reader pretends to be married to them
Reader loses a baby
Would they go to get milk and never come back if you got pregnant?
Clumsy reader
Jing Yuan’s child is a part of the ten lords commission
With a deaf reader
Arranged marriage trope
Miscellaneous Luocha x reader
x baker reader
Reader is shy about singing
Sampo’s little sister goes on a date with Gepard
Toxic relationship with Dan Feng Pt 2
Reader compliments them
Borrowing their clothes
Dan Heng x reader who loves dancing
Dan Feng relationship hcs
Daughter says: I hate you
Jealous Dr. Ratio
Argenti x reader who wears a mask
Argenti comforting reader
Shopping for engagement rings with Argenti
Arranged marriage: Argenti
Dating Argenti hcs
Argenti with a short s/o
Reader is too stubborn to go to a doctor
Trying on Argenti’s clothes
Argenti as a father
Reader is manipulative
Dan Feng: Stay with me
Reader gets emotional on period
Sister tries to steal your Xianzhou man
Yanqing accidentally calls you ‘Mom’
Dragons when you have a jealous best friend
Yanqing’s older sibling dating HSR men
Pregnant!reader won’t stay in bed
Gepard and Welt with an s/o who works too hard
Reader is RICH
Covering them in lipstick marks
Reader flirts like Kafka
Reader tries to scare them with uncanny valley makeup
Astral express reaction to reader dating Dan Heng
HSR men scents
Dr. Ratio x Smart!reader
Dr. Ratio x gamer!reader
Dr. Ratio as a dad
-Genshin Impact-
Reader is like Senku Ishigami
Tighnari and Wriothesley as fathers
Wriothesley x fem!reader: right and wrong
Genshin men when reader wants to start a family
Would they go get milk and never come back if you got pregnant?
Diluc x reader who likes wine
x baker reader
Reader is shy about singing
As dads
Kaeya’s lover gets injured in a fight
When their usually smart s/o does something stupid
Asking Neuvillette and Wriothesley if they want to have a baby
Self-aware!Venti and gamer!reader
Genshin men abandoned by the reader
Dragons when you have a jealous best friend
Pregnant!reader won’t stay in bed
Reader writes fanfiction for them
Taking care of drunk reader
-Fire Emblem Three Houses-
Jeritza x reader
Dimitri x reader
-One Piece-
Sir Crocodile x reader who’s shy around him
Sanji x baker!reader
Reader is shy about singing
Sanji x reader who loves hugs
Mihawk x clingy reader
Sanji x reader: midnight snack
Pregnant!reader won’t stay in bed
-Dr. Stone-
Cuddling with Stanley
Ryusui and Tsukasa with Oblivious reader
Stanley realizing he has a crush on reader
Dr Xeno and Stanley with pregnant s/o
Dr. Xeno x dead astronaut Reader
Stanley x rockstar reader
Dr. Xeno x reader who loves listening to his science talk
Stanley and his escape artist baby
Xeno and Stanley sleeping habits
Stanley Snyder fluff hcs
Reader is meek
-Hades-
Thanatos has a nightmare
Zagreus accidentally kills reader
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stealingyourbones · 1 year
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Short DPXDC Prompts #451
The JL have been having issues with a ghost problem as of recent, so they ask Constantine for help. To their shock, he simply just whips out his phone and calls someone. Whatever they expected, they did NOT expect a mass of black void to ooze up from the floor like a fucked up lava lamp to coalesce into a very tall spindly man with blinding white hair and toxic green eyes. The abomination against life itself gives John a quick peck on the cheek.
Since when was John all buddy buddy with an eldritch being?!
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