#but I know it’s also hard to mesh with me as a client | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

animedaddymilkers · 3 years

Text

Kinkmas 2020: Day Eight

Prompt: Breeding w/ Jiraiya

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Breeding, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Slight Impregnation, Sex Worker, Mutual Pining, Oral, Fingering || Characters: Jiraiya, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

Three hours, three agonizing hours until your favorite client checked in. Three hours filled with you anxiously doing your makeup and little odds and ends to make sure your appearance was as enticing as possible. It wasn't usually like you to go all out for customers, but this particular one was special. Not to mention he was also your highest paying one. Andddd you may have caught some stupid, school-girl crush for him. Though you wouldn't dare say anything to his face, or to anyone for that matter. It wasn't worth risking your best client. Being a sex worker was hard enough as it was.

Jiraiya was a different breed of man, probably a different breed of human if you were being totally honest. He was so suave and smooth, yet put on a sleazy front, driving away most of the civilian women. You had your suspicions that he did that on purpose, but it wasn't your place to pry. He definitely attracted all the women who worked in similar professions as you, that was for sure. Even though he was known to be a cheapskate, drunk, and always tried to get more than he paid for, he wasn't like that with you. You heard once he found a favorite he was the exact opposite of his reputation and now you were living through just that.

The white-haired man appeared in the doorway of your designated hotel room, a bright smile on his face. This time the room had to be the presidential suite, it was comparable to a whole ass apartment for Kami's sake. After hearing the hotel door open you scurried out of the ridiculously large bathroom, your heels clicking along the marble floor to greet your client. His roaring laugh filled the room as he watched your delicate appearance not-so-delicately enter the room.

"Well, look at you! Shit, darling, you look amazing today. You're going to kill an old man like me," his cherry tone made you smile and you stopped in front of him.

"Oh please, you're harder to kill than that! So, what were you thinking today?" Your hands trailed up his still clothed chest, taking in the feel of the muscles you knew laid underneath.

Jiraiya's hands went to your waist, thumbs running over the lingerie you donned," Always so straight to the point, aren't you? Always loved that about ya. Anyways, thought maybe today we could just do something… soft? Just got back from a rough mission and could use some soft lovin'."

"Oh, yeah definitely! I can be whatever you need, handsome," you leaned up and kissed his cheek, using the other hand to caress the opposite cheek.

If he wanted soft, soft was what he was going to get. He knew it was dangerous to request sexual favors that included gentle actions from you. He knew your soft touches would fan the ache in his heart, but he couldn't help it. Maybe somewhere inside of him he just wanted an excuse to hold you close and "accidentally" let some sweet nothings be whispered in your ear. Your lips came together much slower than they usually do, gently pressing together as your eyes closed. His large hands rubbed your hips, fingers kneading into your soft flesh as he easily lifted you from the floor. As if from muscle memory alone, your legs wrapped around his waist as much as they could, happily clinging onto his built figure. The oversized king bed came too soon, your back meeting the plush sheets as Jiraiya's kisses began to trail down your jaw. His lips were warm and harsh against your skin but far from unwelcome. You knew what was coming but you still gasped quietly the first time he sucked the skin of your neck into his mouth.

"You drive me wild," his voice was low and rumbled against your throat, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands wandered from your hips to your chest, playing with your boobs through the thin bra you wore. One of Jiraiya's favorite things was to leave love marks on you, all over you to be exact. Usually, you wouldn't allow it, marking up the merchandise and all. But for him, it was worth it. Not only did he pay more than enough to mark you, but you always felt almost proud to wear his hickeys on your neck and body after a session with him. It definitely helped you pretend you were truly his until they faded that is. Then you'd just have to wait until Jiraiya's name showed up on your booking schedule again. Though unbeknownst to you, your customer felt quite the same about the love marks. He knew very well he was lucky you allowed him to leave them and he'd be lying if he said he didn't go into the village the next day just to get a glimpse of you proudly displaying what he left you.

You tried not to rush things, going at whatever pace he set for the session, but it was hard not to get slightly greedy with such a mountain of man within your grasp. Thankfully, your partner picked up on your gathering impatience and began to slowly unwrap you from the lingerie you had on. The action wasn't empty of affection, quite the opposite. Each time he revealed more skin, his fingers lingered, his touch warm and gentle against you. Once you were naked it was more obvious how overdressed he was. So, you set about fixing that fact. His layers were peeled off one by one until he was left in his mesh shirt and underwear. This part, you loved to lay back and watch as he slowly stripped the rest, his shirt pulling up and revealing more of his abs and toned chest. Ugh, Kami, he was so hot for an older man. So many of your clients were tolerable at best, but Jiraiya? Quite literally the definition of 'you'd let him hit it for free'. But again, you had rent to pay.

Once you were both naked came the part where you two adored the other's body, not a usual part of your rendezvous but he wanted softness today. His rough fingers played with your nipples, shit-eating grin spreading across his face as you moaned and whined when he tugged them. Meanwhile, your hands roamed over every inch of him that you could reach, which currently only entailed his shoulders, head, and top of his chest. But that was enough for you to reach down and play with his nipples in return. The way his face reddened with blush almost made you giggle, but he twisted yours teasingly to get back at you. Jiraiya could seriously tease you for hours on end if it were any other day than today. Today, he had other plans, he needed emotional sex but he also needed it sooner rather than later.

His fingers were tracing along your slit, gathering up some of your wetness to spread it around more. He lazily rubbed at your clit as he kissed you, teeth nipping at your lips just lightly enough to make it hurt but not draw blood. It was a bit dizzying to have a man above you who could so easily kill you with minimal effort, yet each of his movements was filled with nothing but adoration. Part of you hated how tender he was with you every session and the other part that was head over heels in love begged him to continue. Your hips ground down against him, a whine falling out of your mouth before you could even help it. He exhaled a quiet laugh at your desperate reaction and did it again, only slightly harder this time. Teasing was a given when it came to Jiraiya unless he was really drunk. But hell, this time you were almost sure he was completely sober. It really must have been a rough mission if he didn't stop at the bar first. The thought made you want to stop him and give him all the extra attention in the world. The only thing stopping you was your business professional side. It'd just be too much, too risky to make a move like that. You'd be able to pamper him in due time and then it wouldn't seem out of place.

In the meantime, Jiraiya finally slid a thick finger inside of you, probing your insides like he was trying to test something out. His tongue stuck out slightly, caught between his teeth with a determined look on his face. If there wasn't a finger curling inside of your pussy you would have laughed at the expression. He pumped it in and out slowly, gently prodding for your g-spot. As he explored your insides he slipped another finger in, taking care to slowly stretch you out for him. He leaned his head down and let his tongue join in on the party, pressing it flat against your clit. Your head fell back against the bed as your fingers tangled into his expanse of lush, white hair, tugging gently to try and get more out of his mouth. He grinned against your thigh, a third, thick finger pushing into you. The stretch was now slightly uncomfortable, but you both slightly knew you had to endure it, or else the main event wasn't going to be as enjoyable. And Jiraiya always wanted you to enjoy it. Truly, he was the best client you ever had and it wasn't fair that this was just no strings attached business.

His tongue circled your clit before his teeth grazed your bundle of nerves, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he started a session routine, spelling out his name against your clit with his tongue. Again, you wish you could laugh during the cheesy action but it felt too damn good. The low rumble of his voice against you had your hips grinding down against his fingers. His fingers which still thrust in and out of you, changing positions and angles every now and then, intent on finding your g-spot. When his fingers finally made you gasp, he grinned devilishly and your grip tightened in his hair, knowing you were in for a ride now. Once they zeroed in on their target his fingers barely changed angles, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. His mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking gently as his other hand slid down to your other hole. At first, he just teased, swirling his pointer finger around the puckered hole before using some of your pussy juice to slowly push in. The pressure from the extra finger had you gasping out his name, the assault on your other private parts far from ending. Your legs defied your intent to hold out longer and began to shake, the warm spasm in your lower stomach fast approaching.

"Fuck! Oh Kami, Jiraiya! Fuck I'm cumming!" cuss words continued to fall from your lips between moans as you came on his face.

Your juices properly soaked his stubble-covered jaw, more proof he didn't even bother going home before seeing you. As your legs spasmed he kept sucking your clit, welcoming the feeling of your plush thighs wrapping tightly around his head. A good three minutes later he finally let you have some reprieve, removing his face and hands from his body. Your eyes met his gleaming ones as he brought one hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers off. The skilled tongue that made you fall apart, swirled around his fingers, intent not to waste a single drop of your sweet juice. He had little to no reservations when it came to sex, happily sliding his finger from your other hole into his mouth, sucking it off just as he did the others. Next time you just might have to ask him to use his mouth on your ass… but for now, it was your turn to get your mouth busy.

Jiraiya had other thoughts, leaning up to kiss you again and slowly grind his hips against yours. He kissed you for a while, savoring the taste of your mouth, and went to line himself up at your entrance before you stopped him. Concerned, he looked up at you and was about to ask if something was wrong before you gently pushed to flip him over. Now with a look of understanding he chuckled softly and laid back against the pillows, arms tucked behind his head. Hair sprawled around him and arms flexed he looked like a true Adonis before you, even including the brutal scar on his chest. If anything, the scar just made him more god-like. It was a testament to what he did for a living, how self-sacrificing he was. There was only one thing that could make the view better: a lower perspective.

Your hands rubbed against his skin, just taking in the feel of it. The feel of his scars, the feel of the tensing muscles beneath, the intoxicating feel of his pulse beating beneath your fingers. You grinned as you brushed your fingertips along his pelvis, savoring in the shiver he always gave you. His hips were so sensitive it was almost cute. You leaned forward and kissed a trail down his abs, leaving little love bites along the way. Time didn't mean anything right now, so you took as long as you wanted, paying extra attention to leave darker marks along his hips and purposely avoiding where he wanted your touch most. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, trying not to think too hard about the sweet ways you touched him. Oftentimes, he had to remind himself that these affections from you were bought, if he hadn't bought this time with you, you wouldn't be here. The kisses and marks you left all over his body were just for sexy times. The gentle way you admired his body was just to keep him coming back, to keep him thinking you cared for him on a personal level. Damn, his thoughts got carried away again. He couldn't help but think of what waking up next to you would be like, you smiling-

His eyes flew open and he groaned as you licked up his cock. The grin you had on your face made him groan again, damn your sinful actions. Your lips wrapped around him and he locked eyes with yours as you slowly sank your mouth down his length. The gleam in your eyes drove him wild, watching as you took him inch by inch, careful not to gag. That is, until he gave you a cocky little thrust of his hips. You gagged and choked at the unanticipated movement, taking your mouth off of him, your hand relaxing it.

"You bastard! You ruined my rhythm!"

Jiraiya chuckled before grinning, "Oh but you sound so cute gagging on my cock, darling!"

His happy go lucky tone laced his words, making you roll your eyes as you pumped him. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your mouth around him again, determined to make it all the way down him this time. You knew he'd thrust again, but now you were expecting it and you were able to relax your throat more, grinning around his cock when you didn't gag. Jiraiya only grinned, proud that you caught onto his little game and resorted to letting you have the reins again. One of his large hands reached down, gathering your hair from out of your face to help you and so he could see better. Your head finally met the coarse white curls at the base of his cock and you held yourself there for a few moments. You swallowed a couple of times just to hear the man beneath you moan before you slowly began to slide back up, swirling your tongue around his tip. Kami, his face looked so good with the blush dusting his cheeks and chest. You'd give him all his money back just to have this view all to yourself. Still, you had the power to make him fall apart even more and you had every intention to do just that.

Again, your mouth surrounded him and you went down his length quicker this time, although you didn't go down all the way. Your rhythm took a few tries to perfect but you finally found it. Hollowing out your cheeks a bit you bobbed your head on his cock, twisting slightly as you went up and down. For a bit of cock you didn't force your mouth to go down on, your hand picked up the slack, rubbing around it while your mouth worked. Jiraiya's other hand came down to join his first in your hair and when your eyes met his he groaned. You looked so good when you were desperate to please him. He was comfortable enough with you now that he didn't even think of holding back all of his noises, even if they were the high pitched whines he let out when you played with his balls. Or the gasps when you gave him a taste of his own medicine and pushed a finger into his asshole. His hips twitched at the sudden pressure and he almost comically began to fall apart beneath you.

He panted and moaned, thighs tensing when you pushed another finger into him, "Damn it, fuck, (Y/N)... Darling please…"

You moaned around his cock before popping his cock out of your mouth, pumping it with your hand, "Mmm, what is it dear?"

His face was beet red and his chest near heaving, "Don't wanna cum like this…"

"Ah, that's right, I forgot geezers like you can only go so long." you grinned at him and let his cock free.

If it had been any other client, you wouldn't dare speak to them like that, but for Jiraiya, it only fired him up more. He smirked back at you and easily leaned down, lifting your body from between his legs. Before you could comprehend you were on all fours, ass properly displayed for the man behind you. His hands spread across your rear and massaged your ass before spreading your cheeks. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you whined, trying to push yourself back onto him. He laughed at your desperation but still obliged, pushing into you slowly. Kami, he filled you so well, dragging along your walls perfectly. He didn't stop until his hips met yours, pushing his pelvis into your ass, staying there for a long moment. With a grin, he ground his hips against yours before pulling out almost all the way and then slamming back in.

It made you gasp and grab at the sheets for balance, the pace was both torture and pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, no doubt going to leave bruises as he continued fucking you. After a few minutes, he finally sped up, his cock hitting against your deepest parts. He leaned over your back and pressed kisses into your shoulders before trailing up your neck. His hot breath against your skin was enough to drive you wild and mixed with his groans you felt tingles fire through your body from your ears straight to your pussy. Your whines egged him on and he once again sped up, fucking into you with vigor now. The lewd sounds of your skin slapping together was like music and only sounded better accompanied by the noises you both were making. One of his hands slid from your hip and a thick finger rubbed at your clit, the extra stimulation making you groan and bury your face deeper into the blanket beneath you. You could feel your thighs shake, threatening to give out as your pussy clenched around his cock. Your cum properly wet his cock more and a bit of his thighs too, but that wasn't going to stop him.

Jiraiya fucked you through your orgasm, slowing as you came down before he roughly flipped you over onto your back, taking in your post-orgasm face, "You look so gorgeous like this darling. I could stare at you for hours."

His voice was deep and you sighed softly at his words, legs opening wide so he could slide back inside of you. Gently, he took your legs and pushed your knees towards your chest, leaving some room so he could lean down between them and kiss you. The position let his cock slide in deeper and you moaned feeling him hit your cervix. "Kami, Jiraiya, just fuck me already, I want your cum!"

He smirked and thrust roughly, making the breath catch in your throat, "You want my cum, pretty girl? You want me to fuck my baby into you?"

The words weren't supposed to come out. Not like that. But he always was a sucker for dirty talk so he wasn't really surprised with himself. You, on the other hand, were slightly shocked. Or at least you would have been if you weren't so horny. His words made you moan at the thought and you knew you wouldn't be satisfied until you felt his cum inside of you now. He did prefer to go in raw, but every time before this he had no qualms about pulling out. Briefly, you wondered what changed and if maybe it was all talk, but regardless, you couldn't help but lose all inhibitions at the thought of feeling his cum inside of you.

"Yes! Fuck your baby into me! Fill me up, Jiraiya, I want everyone to know what you've done to me!"

He growled and pushed your legs closer to your body as he nearly laid down on top of you. The heaviness of him added an extra warmth of protection, bringing you two closer physically and a bit emotionally as well. Now, you were so close you could lean up and kiss him, his hot breath on your lips, his intoxicating smell filling your nose while his hips quickly thrust in and out of you. Cuss words and praises fell from his lips, muffled by your skin as he fucked you harder, barely holding back at all. It was appropriate that he had you positioned in the mating press, adding to the feeling of the moment. You let yourself get absorbed in the fantasy, pretending he was saying those words under different circumstances, that he really meant what he said.

"Fuck I'm so close," he growled and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you closer, "You ready for it, darling? Let me hear you. C'mon."

As if you really needed any more convincing, you let it out, legs once again starting to shake as they wrapped around him, "Please, please, give me your cum. Oh, Kami~"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being forced to be mine, huh? You want to be my little breeding slut?"

"Yes, yes yes! Make me yours!" Your high pitched whines sent him into a frenzy and he roughly began to rub your clit again.

You were already over sensitive so when you felt him bury himself to the hilt inside of you, you let yourself go. He groaned your name as you could feel his hot cum fill you up, your pussy spasming around him. Part of you couldn't believe he actually just came inside, though the majority of your lust clouded brain was absolutely satisfied that he did. You panted hard and was thankful as he helped stretch your cramping legs. He himself was breathing hard in the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you played with his hair before he began to slowly pull away. His eyes locked with yours as he sat back on his feet, soft cock slipping out of you. When he did his eyes wandered down, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your hole. But he gathered the drips onto his fingers and pushed it back into you.

"You're going to look so cute, big and round with my baby."

The words shook you from the bliss and you looked up at the white-haired man. The full possible repercussions of your actions crashed down onto you. Before you could voice any concerns, Jiraiya sighed and leaned down, putting his head in the crook of your neck again before filling the quiet of the room.

"I shouldn't have done that."

"I wanted it too."

"Did you really? Or just because I pay you to want it." his voice was gravelly and almost laced with guilt.

You had to say, you've seen Jiraiya through many post-orgasm moods, but this one full of something akin to regret was new, "No. I really wanted it. And… If it happens, then I'll happily welcome it."

He didn't lift his head, he didn't think he could even if he wanted to. Instead, he only held you tighter and finally let himself embrace his feelings for you, "I love you. I don't care about your line of work. I don't care how much I have to pay. Just…let me see you more?"

The breath you didn't know you were holding was exhaled and you looked down at him, "Jiraiya…"

"You don't have to like me back. I'd understand. I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. (Y/N), you're the only thing keeping me returning to this village."

He looked almost scared as he confessed his feelings, his hands stroking over your skin, eyes avoiding yours, "Jiraiya, I love you too…"

Quickly his eyes snapped up to finally meet yours, his heart felt like it skipped a beat. It took him a minute to fully comprehend your words before he pressed his lips to yours again. The rest of the day was spent together, telling the other all the things you'd been holding back for who knows how long. Not to mention a few more rounds in the bed. Never in a million years would you have guessed a shared breeding kink would finally be the thing that brought you to confess your love for each other.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

#naruto #naruto x reader #jiraiya #jiraiya x reader #naruto x you #jiraiya x you #kinkmas 2020 #smut #naruto smut #reader insert #x reader #x you

579 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

No Touching

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 4.3K of S M U T (seriously 98% smut)

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : sub!kiri, dom!reader, thigh riding, ball gag and cock ring nastiness

bio : You finally give in to the desires of your favorite client, Red Riot... Not that you’re complaining though.

author’s note : ya so i said i was writing something sinful (shouto smut on hold for the moment) and uhh well this certainly qualifies lmao. ALSO go easy on me please this is my first Kiri fic and I tried my best to do him justice :’(

tagging : @lildreamer93 ty for supporting me 🥰

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂weat drips down the prominent contours of Red Riot’s chest, the broad muscles jumping in shock at the cold and harsh snap of the clips. His nipples stand out as his back arches off the back of the chair, shoving his thick pectorals into your face. He whimpers out a low moan as your finger gently tugs at the chain connecting the clamps latched onto his sensitive chest. His thighs press together, creating the friction his throbbing cock so desperately desires.

“Y-Y/N,” he grumbles, his crimson eyes flashing briefly at your wicked gaze.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you know better than to call me that, Red.” The words taste so right rolling off your sultry tongue, and the way the number six hero’s eyes roll back as they shut sends your confidence through the roof.

He gasps as your fist squeezes his cock, this being the first time you’ve touched him so directly all night. Your heavy breath on his moist skin makes his legs shake slightly, and he throws his head back over the top of the chair when your hand glides down his shaft, maintaining your tight grip. His cock glistens with your spit and his precum, which has continued to dribble out of his aching slit since you’d begun your teasing long ago.

Sucking the chain into your mouth, you gently rear your head back so the clamps pull on his tender buds. The new position allows you to greedily soak up the way his chest puffs and falls at a quickening rate, his eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. A trickle of blood runs down his chin, his sharp teeth tucked into his bottom lip frantically. He wiggles his hips ever so slightly, hoping you won’t notice how he subtly tries to quicken the pace you’re jerking his dick to. His fingers stab into the meat of his outer thighs, trying to restrain himself from reaching out and touching you.

As his inner battle ensues, you take your time playing with his swollen cock. Gliding your fingers over the protruding veins that decorate his length, squeezing his balls just hard enough to make him shift in his seat— oh god, you love the expressions that fluctuate on his handsome face. It’s partly why he’s your favorite patron.

Sure, being a high end dominatrix has its ups and downs. Sometimes you’d get stuck with a disgusting politician, and sometimes you’d have the pleasure of spending your evening with a top hero. Many a hero had paid for a night with you, and after some time you were able to make your living off of your handful of regulars. You were no virgin to teasing men to their wits’ end, but every time your hands were on your favorite crimson client, you couldn’t help but feel sinful butterflies in your stomach.

But it was dangerous playing with a man who blazed as bright as his fiery red locks. He was dangerous. He was dangerous in the sense that always at the peak of your nights with him, you’d find yourself wondering what would happen if you broke the rules.

“Stop squirming so much,” you instruct, and although a loud whine escapes him, his body instantly stills to follow your command. His eyes slit open as your hand leaves his dick, sagging slightly in his seat in a mixture of disappointment and relief that you had stopped. “Stay,” you demand, winking at his longing gaze.

You saunter over to the vanity, ass pushed out to bend your spine just the way he likes. Your manicured fingernail drags along the drawers, and you enjoy the feeling of his hot eyes glued to your every motion. Opening the top drawer, you search for the items you’d come over here for. Your smile only widens as you recognize the smooth plastics, and you make sure to keep the various items out of Kirishima’s sight as you take it out of the drawer. Reaching out to grab a container of lube perched at the top of the shelf, you gasp as you knock the container onto the floor.

“Clumsy me,” you purr, watching the redhead’s eyes ignite with renewed interest as you lean down to retrieve the bottle. Your tiny little skirt does nothing to cover the ruby red thong that slips between your cheeks, and a broken moan erupts from the hero across the room. Your hand slides up to grip one of your ass cheeks, pulling apart and almost revealing your needy holes.

But you know just how far to spread— and much to Kirishima’s chagrin, he can only see the tiniest glimpse of your sex before you stand upright again.

When you come closer to him, you can see how you’ve affected him. His cock is angry— thick and red and twitching impatiently against his taut stomach. The emotions swirling within his scarlet gaze makes your pussy flutter, and a slight blush rises to your cheeks even though you’re the one in control here.

“My favorite panties, darlin’? You’re always so considerate of me.” His gravelly voice causes shivers to shoot down your spine. His eyes fixed on yours, the corner of his mouth twitches up as you draw nearer, a full smirk on his face as you sink to your knees between his legs. His length jumps eagerly at your proximity, a puff of hot air washing over your face as he exhales.

“Do you like them, Red?” You inquire, but it sounds more like a taunt. You deposit the plastic items on the floor underneath his chair, keeping them out of view. His thighs jerk roughly as your palms lay against the skin there, your fingernails tickling his flesh.

He gulps, his cocky grin faltering as your fingers slide upwards toward his erect cock. “I didn’t get a very good look at ‘em sweetheart. Be a doll and ‘gimme a refresher?” His voice is softer this time, but it still has that Red Riot edge to it. He knows he is not in a position to make requests, but fuck all if he’s not going to try and see your perfect body again.

His heart slams against his ribs at the bright smile that splits your lips. “Hmm, I ‘dunno, Eiji,” you tantalize, ecstatic at the loud groan he releases. His name falling from your pouty lips makes his eyes roll back, his fingers cutting into his palms as he clenches his fists. “You didn’t even say please.”

Drawing fresh air into his lungs, Kirishima licks his lips as you push yourself to stand halfway upright, your face dangling just a short distance from his. Oh, how much he’d pay to lean in and taste your mischievous lips. Your hands still on his thighs, his body trembles at your closeness. “Please, baby, ‘lemme see those panties,” he begs, his voice crackling slightly in desperation. His brows cinched and his eyelids half-lidded, his teeth grind together as he grovels.

You lean in, and his eyes dart south to analyze your breasts for a moment before he looks back at your face in flustered surprise. “You’re such a naughty boy,” you moan, smiling at how his cock jolts upright, standing vertically as if saluting you. “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

You turn around and the sound of Kirishima’s sharp inhale makes the corners of your lips curl into a satisfied smirk. Your ass meets his thighs, cunt placed strategically in between so he doesn’t get the pleasure of feeling your wetness. Of course you’re turned on, but you must comply with those infernal fucking rules.

Kirishima groans unabashedly as you grind your ass against his thighs. He’d visited you many nights before, but this was the first time he’d felt the silky skin of your ass and thighs on his own, and the sensation only makes his aching cock impossibly harder. Twisting your back, you turn your face so you can watch his expression. His eyes are scrunched shut and more blood trails down his chin as he bites his lip so hard his teeth stab into himself. His fists are clenched so tightly beside his thighs that they’re white and trembling, and it seems like he’s too tense to even take in a breath of air.

“Eiji,” you whimper and he immediately opens his eyes, his pupils blown out. “Don’t you wanna see ‘em again?” His gaze remains on your eyes for a moment before he realizes one of your hands is lifting up the back of your skirt, presenting your ass and that delicious sliver of carmine lace that disappears between your cheeks. Your ass jiggles slightly as you drag yourself along his thighs, and he nearly explodes as he watches your asshole pucker underneath the mesh fabric.

“F-fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, finally releasing his poor bottom lip from his pointy teeth’s hold. Your sweet skin on his is too much— infinitely better than the meager scraps his imagination had conjured up all those late nights when he would return home from your workplace. Even though you’d always get him off, he’d find himself hard and ready to go again as he’d replay the hours you’d spent with him in his head. Of course he’d jerked himself off to the thought of finally fucking you, but he would never force you into something you were uncomfortable doing. And then, of course there were those forsaken boundaries with your job, which he ruefully reminds himself of with every roll of your hips.

Kirishima cries out at the loss of your touch, desperate to have your skin on his. The contact was much too brief after all his pent up imaginations had run so wild. A foxy frown is on your pursed lips as you turn around, sinking back to your knees between his legs. “Red,” your tone is low and oozing with lust, and even though he’s being admonished he can’t help but leak more precum at your sultry voice. “You know you’re not supposed to call me that.”

Before he can apologize, you grab one of the toys from underneath the chair. The thick black ring makes him slightly recoil, but his reaction doesn’t stop you as your mouth eagerly engulfs his tip. The pearly substance gathered there greets your tongue with a bitter saltiness that you gladly welcome. His hips nearly buck, and he doesn’t know how he manages to keep still as your throat welcomes his throbbing cock. Moans tumble out from him, loud and dissolute, just the way you love it. You only allow a few bobs on his length before you lean back, sliding the ring around his cock and fixing it to slip around his balls so it sits tightly at the very base of him.

The muscles on his torso are quivering as he tries to recover, his breath ragged and uneven. “I’m s-sorry, darlin’,” he pants and he nearly doubles over as the ring begins to vibrate,” I— fuck— I got too excited.” You wonder if the expletive is because of the vibrating ring or because he’d wanted your body on his longer. You’d barely even touched his cock and yet he was horrifyingly close to climaxing, an embarrassed flush tainting his tan cheeks.

“I forgive you, Red,” you slap his thigh, not soft but also not hard enough to hurt— just the right strength to make him sweat. “But you’ve still gotta take your punishment.”

Kirishima whines gently as his gaze lands on the ball gag you’d brought over, which you now dangle in front of his face. His apologetic gaze captures you as your thumb traces his broken bottom lip, smoothing over the small cuts from his vicious fangs. He dares to lean forward, lips parting and taking your thumb into his mouth. Careful not to slice your skin, he tucks his teeth away and caresses your finger with his warm, strong tongue. You become aware of your cunt dripping between your legs, your arousal intensifying at his intimate and contrite action. You want that tongue on you, all over your body, especially on the places hidden away from his piercing eyes.

You sigh at his submissive gesture, licking your lips as he opens up without protest for the gag. The ball isn’t too large a size, just grand enough to leave his mouth open and to keep him from hurting himself on his spiky teeth. “No hiding now,” you sigh into his ear as you lean into his neck. His moan is much louder with his mouth propped open, and you savor how he blushes slightly at the heightened lewdness. “Aw, you’re blushing, Red?” The color on his cheeks only darkens, and another heavy moan sounds when your fingers land on his cock.

His body is still trembling as you continue your work, and his eyes fall shut as you place your lips on the juncture where his neck meets his broad shoulder. His harsh breaths give warning to how close he is, and you heed their warning as your fingers slowly pull on his rosy member. Strategically ignoring his inflamed tip, you languidly stroke his shaft, and you’re rewarded with a slew of short and desperate mewls from the hero beneath you.

You know just how hard this must be for him. Red Riot, the unbreakable, top hero who prides himself on his manliness and bravery. An absolute unit of a man— rippling muscles strung along his huge frame, sharp teeth to dazzle his fans with his signature cocky grin, and of course the most gallant, chivalrous character— Yes, that’s who is melting into a puddle underneath you.

Your lips dance along his slick chest, never staying long enough to leave a mark that could tarnish his noble reputation. The moans turn to deeper growls as your hand floats further up his length with every jerk, his noises of pleasure so exquisitely loud with his jaw hanging open. You can’t help but shift against his thighs, the burning between your legs becoming hard to ignore. A wave of embarrassment crashes through you as you realize your desire for the man beneath you. If you could have it your way, his cock would be nestled in your cunt so quick he wouldn’t even notice until you were cumming around him. Fuck, if only you weren’t at work right now… what are the damn rules again?

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

The three statements are a blaring mantra in your head, repeating over and over, faster and faster. Fear mixes with your lust, a terror culminating that you might do something forbidden if the words stray from your focus.

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

Kirishima, ever the gentleman, notices the subtle shift in your mood, his eyes taking in your wanton expression and how your hips just barely swing along his thighs. Your core still in between his legs, untouched save for your arousal pooling in your panties. His hungry stare roves over your black brassiere, the thin material not doing much to hide your hard nipples from poking through. He lets out a vicious groan as he imagines how you’d squeal if he could take one of those cute little buds in between his teeth, just hard enough to make you squirm but not so much you’d bleed. Fuck, how wet your cunt must be under that string you called panties, how you’d scream as he rammed his fat cock into your tight little pussy.

Little do you know, the rules are replaying in his head too. He wants you just as badly, if not more.

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

Your hand stops abruptly and he grumbles, unceremoniously ripped from his imagination once more. Your gazes lock, and he lets out a soft moan when you bite your bottom lip, unsure eyes floating around his handsome face.

You’d like to think Eijirou trusts you after all the nights you’ve spent together, but you can’t stop the nerves that tingle with uncertainty as you summon the courage to say something. You’d had surprisingly deep conversation with the man when you weren’t teasing the living shit out of him, even going so far as to reveal your real name in exchange for his-- something a woman in your profession should know much better than to do. But you couldn’t help it, and although you had to chastise him for uttering your name, every time he did so sent a wave of heat rushing toward your core. Even now, after you’d edged him mercilessly all night, his eyes hold a deep, touching sincerity as he looks back at you.

No penetration.

No kissing.

No...

Your shaking hands reach down to land atop his fists. His eyes widen as your thumb pokes into the middle of his fists, unraveling and pulling them so his hands lay open in yours. Your fingers around his wrists now, you guide them to your hips, hovering over your skin as you continue to doubt yourself.

Kirishima allows you to hold his hands so enticingly close, his crimson orbs flickering between your waist and your hasty expression. So he makes the move instead. Slowly, at an almost agonizing pace, he lowers his hands to rest on your flesh.

Touching!

Oh god, he’s touching you and it feels so fucking good!

The skin on his palms is calloused and rough, but they feel like heaven on the smooth skin of your hips. A whimper departs from your open lips, eyes falling closed at how hot and manly his touch feels. His fingers press into your supple hips, moving your torso to the left slightly and maneuvering you to poise directly above his thigh. He watches your erotic expression blossom as you sink yourself onto his thigh, your cunt finally receiving the friction it so desperately desires. He snarls out a sexy groan at how easily your cunt wets his thigh, your arousal soaking through the red thong you had put on just for him.

“Eiji,” you moan and he grabs your hips hard. His biceps bulge as he slides you toward him, dragging your pussy along his thigh and soliciting a whine from your parted lips.

Your hand starts up again on Kirishima’s cock, jerking his whole length now and making sure to pay special attention to his pretty pink tip. Your other hand flies up to curl around the back of his neck, your elbow perching on his shoulder. His soft red locks tickle your wrist, his hair flat and void of product. Your fingers twitch to undo the ball gag but you know very well if you do that, you’re going to kiss him. You’re going to kiss him and feel his tongue on yours, and you’re going to suck in all his moans and give him some of your own.

And then, that’s two rules thrown out the window, why not abandon the last as well?

No, you’re a good girl and you need this job. You need it more than you need Eijirou’s mouth and his cock, even if the call is so disturbingly close. No kissing and no penetration. And fuck, you could get off with just his touch no problem.

The hero underneath you groans at your renewed vigor on his member, his grip tightening still as he drives your hips back and forth against his thigh. His jaw becoming sore from being open so long, drool trickles down his chin to drip onto his lap. He longs for your release, eyes barely open to watch you make such a sinful face as you let him push and pull your body against his. A devious thought enters his mind, and he quickly acts on it, activating his quirk on his lower half.

The gasp that tears from you is exhilarating, and Kirishima’s wrists only flick your hips faster against his hardened muscles. He allows his moans to ring out into the room without restraint, his deep, guttural noises loud enough to drown out the beautiful whines that he forces out of you. Your hand keeps up with this increased pace, thumb pressing dangerously into the head of his cock and smearing the essence trickling out of him so it lubes up your ministrations.

His hardened thigh sends delicious jolts of pleasure through your body as Kirishima drags your clit against himself. Your fingers pull tightly on the hairs at the base of his head, eliciting a sensual howl to rumble from his chest. The incredible solidity of his muscle beneath your quivering cunt forces you to hurdle to the edge at a shameful speed— already you can feel the haziness of an orgasm consuming you. His quirk so delectably harmonious with the onslaught his hands roll you against, your head tilts back as your eyes slam shut.

“Red!” Your body crumbles in his hands, collapsing as your climax wracks through you, emanating from your core and making your entirety surge with a pulsating, white heat. Your hand on his cock clenches, frantically yanking at his sensitive tip and making his hips buck up against you.

Kirishima revels in your euphoric expression and how your pussy clenches through your thong against his now-soft thigh. He continues to draw your hips along his lap sensually, watching your chest shake as you recuperate. Your head flops forward so your forehead rests on his shoulder, your hand on his neck falling to drag your nails along his muscular back. The sensation makes his skin prickle, and he can’t hold back the smug grin that appears on his lips. He’d made you orgasm and he’d barely even touched you.

Finally catching your breath, you slither off his thigh. A thin trail of your arousal strings out as your hips retreat, connecting your cunt and the pool of slick that had leaked onto his muscle. A pink blush blooms on your cheeks at the sight, and Kirishima can only let out another vocal groan to assure you he finds it sexy.

Shakily landing on your knees once more between his legs, your fingers slide under the confining ring on his base, slipping the forsaken toy off of him. His cock seems to immediately grow, pulsing and radiating heat against your palms. His hand frames your face, thumb on your chin and middle finger brushing the corner of your jaw. The other hand pushes your hair away from your mouth, and you hum in appreciation as your hand cups his length.

Kirishima sighs as you take him into your mouth, his cock feeling free yet hypersensitive after the torture from the vibrating ring. Your tongue caresses the tip, swirling around to collect his saltiness before flattening at the bottom of your mouth, and sliding his member deep into your throat. His sensual moans greet your ears as your velvety mouth welcomes his length, and his eyes flutter closed as you guide more and more of him inside.

Your movements are lazier than usual, your brain still clouded with ecstasy from your orgasm, but he doesn’t seem to mind the extra care you give. Your tongue curls around his length, the soft ack ack ack of his cock nestling entirely inside your throat making him shudder. Your fingers trail up his flexed torso, hooking around the metal chain across his chest and gently pulling it towards yourself. His groans increasing in frequency and volume, you blearily look up to catch his scarlet gaze honed in on you. Your other hand cupping his balls and your nails combing through his black, trimmed hair, his eyes whirl back into his skull, and a broken, ferocious snarl tears through him.

Briny, hot ropes of his cum easily coast down your throat, and your purr against his member. He lets out another animalistic growl, his long overdue orgasm sending shivers from head to toe. The face he pulls is exquisite, his eyes nearly crossing in bliss and his jaw still hung open, drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Rolling his balls in your palm as your tongue glides alone his veins, your mouth leaves his cock as you stand. Your cunt throbs, longing to be stretched with his thick cock at the knowledge that had his mouth not been full on the gag, it would’ve been dripping with your name.

Sitting in his lap, facing him again, your fingers wind around the back of his head and undo the gag. The ball falls out of his slack jaw and drips with his saliva, not that that phases you. His lust-clouded eyes regard yours, and a low chuckle thrums out of him as his hands drift up and down your spine. His lips curve into a sated smile, a warm feeling trickling into your chest and you suddenly feel bashful under his intense eyes.

“So we breakin’ the rules now, baby? Long time comin’,” He whispers, his hands gathering your hips once more and dragging you into his chest. The friction on your puffy clit makes your core spasm around nothing, and as if the movement is not enough to be noticed by Red Riot, a low whine tumbles out of you. He presses you closer to his torso, the sinew underneath his skin protruding delightfully. You let out a mewl as your cunt touches his still-hard cock, your mesh panties the only barrier separating your bodies. “You’re so fuckin’ cute pressed up against me like this, darlin’.”

You gasp as his finger dips into the puddle you’d left on his thigh, shocked as he sticks the digit in his mouth and groans.

“Bet these lips of yours are just as sweet,” he mumbles as his hand takes your chin, thumb rolling over your plump bottom lip. His eyebrow quirks as an idea comes to mind, his hands still running across your soft skin with his darkened gaze challenging you.

“Does it count as rule breakin’ if we head back to my place?”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

thank you so much for reading. If you’d like a part 2 (breaking the other rules huehuehue) please be sure to let me know ♥︎

make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎♥︎♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#waaa my first kiri fic!!#i hope i portrayed him alright #i really struggled trying to capture his character so if it's off im sorry :((#but dang he was kinda hot tho right?? lmao #if part 2 is in demand the tables may turn 👀#my fics #kirishima fic #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima smut #red riot smut #red riot fic #kirishima eijirou fic #bnha smut #bnha fic #mha smut #mha fic #bnha x reader #mha x reader

1K notes · View notes

ourladylennon · 3 years

Text

this is a stress rant and also I absolutely have to get these thoughts out of my head and onto something so that I can understand how I'm feeling. so pardon me.

I have some very mixed feelings about my latest tattoo experience and it has been incredibly, astoundingly stressful. For anyone who was interested in how it went.

and after typing out this whole rant and reading it back my advice is: ALWAYS make sure it is exactly what you want. ALWAYS speak up if you don’t.

I have a specific style, as everyone, but the style of tattoo I have is a bit of a niche that can be hard to find: geometric design with dotwork/pointillism/stippling techniques to create shading rather then standard fill in shading. This shading style is incredibly time consuming and taxing for the artist and I've had a lot of trouble finding people who specialize in this (and within my area).

I started with an artist about 3 years ago, whom was new to me but known to be good. Got my appt set up, he drew me an entire sleeve- it was absolutely gorgeous. Went through two sessions and his work is genuinely amazing. Clean. Precise. Detailed. Unique. I didn't vibe with him too great but it was something I kind of put aside. But without explaining the whole fucking mess that became, just know that our artist-client relationship fell through. This left me with only the beginning of my tattoo. The whole ordeal was really stressful and upsetting so I put down the goal of getting it finished to try and recoup. And I just continually hit roadblocks trying to find artists who are good at dotwork and willing to do it. Often times they live in other cities/states/etc. Obviously this involves meeting a new artist, trying to figure out if it's a good fit, driving out for consultations/redoing all that process- s t r e s s. Now with covid, it's even more difficult because almost every artist I've come across that I've considered has closed books. All of them being out of town which is fine because it would be worth it. It's expected.

But after three years of this go around of trying to find someone, I was getting really put out by the process and just wanting to get this thing going. (Mistake #1- or #2 technically cause fucking up w the first artist is where it all started and I do regret it to this day).

A new shop opened IN my town- a miracle!!! I started following an artist whose work I found to be particularly amazing. Clean lines, clean shading, artistic seeming. Didn't see any pointillism, but I just like kept seeing her work and thinking damn that's good. So I decided to reach out and told her this is what I'm looking for, a dotwork sleeve and here are some examples of the style I like. I specifically mentioned this and asked if they'd be interested in working on it because I know that dotwork is not everyone's thing. The artist replied and said they've been wanting to get into and would like to do that (we'll call this mistake #3. Do not assume the artist, even if very good at other things will be good at all things. Do not go to an artist wanting a specific style without having seen their work for THAT style).

At this point I sent over pictures of my current tattoo that we'd be adding onto for reference. In my mind this is what I thought would mean: "I am looking at what you have to see how to incorporate it into a new sleeve design and see how I can create a collaborative piece and mesh the two together." (Mistake #4: that was not the case. Do not assume. Anything. Ever.)

The appt date was relatively quick despite the fact that I figured she'd be booked out for quite some time (red flag #1: not because she wasn't busy. But because this was not a whole lot of time to come up with a design but I figured "Well she knows her capabilities better than I do and she wouldn't suggest it that soon if she weren't sure). In my previous experiences, the artist will send you a proof or have a separate appt to review the design. I never received an email with said design (red flag #2, in my personal opinion. But I thought I was just being...extra? Also just thought, okay I'll see it at the appt and it will be OK, right? <- mistake #5).

I show up, there is no sleeve design. (RED FLAG #3) There are two single mandala tattoos. Outlines only. No shading. I'd also like to say my style is much more geometric fractals than it is mandala. A lot of people find these interchangeable but...they're really much different. (RED. FLAG. #4). I genuinely did not see that coming. Maybe I'm wrong to say, but this was negligent in my opinion and experience. A sleeve design ensures that your finished piece flows, that it works together, you can see the whole picture, modify, etc. Especially with it being an addition to my existing work. Cannot stress how much of a red flag.

I'm wigging out at this point. I don't love them but I want this tattoo. I'm going back and forth thinking, "maybe it's just because the shading isn't filled in I can't picture it." (MISTAKE #6: trust your gut!!!). I tell her OK well I like this about this one and that about that one. She only nods and listens, where I was expecting feedback; perhaps an "OK well we can draw it on" or "I can rework it" etc. She didn't and I am too paralyzed to speak up. (Red flag #4)

Mistake #7: I accept it at this point. I pick between the two. She has to go resize it. I'm having a literal internal freak out and battle. I am someone who DOES NOT know how to speak up for themselves. In any way. EVER. For any reason. At any time. I am a fear based individual, in fact, I am nearly certain I have APD (avoidant personality disorder) and it effects me severely and deeply. To the point that simply speaking to someone can be hard for me.

But my brain was screaming you cannot do this! You aren't sure! This is for life! It's your body!! You HAVE to say something! (RED fucking alert)

She came back with the one design resized and my heart is thumping, my chest is constricting, the throat feels like it's closing. I make myself say it. I tell her I don't think this is what I'm looking for. I literally almost busted into tears trying to say it because I was so fucking terrified and overwhelmed. I've never been in a position where I genuinely wasn't sure whether I liked what I was looking at. She says you don't need to be sorry you should speak up this is your body. So immediately, I lost a lot of tension because of her kindness. I thought she would be angry or rude or upset, just because I'm fearful. She proceeded to kind of go in and shade in with a pencil on the stencil to give me a better idea and apologized that she should have had that prepared. I continue asking questions to assuage my concerns and feel....better....ish. she offers to redraw and reschedule but I went against my gut, gave into my desperacy to continue my sleeve, dismissed my feelings as being just my typical overexertion of fear and did something I NEVER do: turn my back on my instincts. (Mistake. Mistake #8)

She was pleasant and I genuinely enjoyed her, felt comfortable with her which is not something I can say about previous artists and that's a good chunk of why I decided to continue. I liked her, I liked her other work I've seen, I just thought that once the stippling was in that I'd see it was really nice. However, I am laying there and I'm like I do not feel poking, which is literally how dotwork is done. Dot by dot. I'd feel her do the tiniest bit of dot-dot-dot and I'm like OK OK I'm just not paying full attention and missing it. But then I'd hear and feel her shading- standard shading. I'm like why is she using a shading tip? I'm just confused honestly. I'm like I have no idea what the could be for, just assume it's necessary for something I didn't realize. But I can see because I'm laying and my arms at a weird angle.

I finally get a peek while she's pausing and its....not dotwork. It's not dotwork at all, in fact. It's too late at this point in my eyes. It was only partially done but what am I gonna do? Stop her in the middle and have an unfinished tattoo? And then what? (Try to) go to someone else to have them do dotwork and have a half unmatching tattoo? There was nothing I could do. So I resigned and accepted this as the consequences of my actions and ill choices. And that's honestly been the hardest part to deal with: I let this happen to myself because I could not speak up. The only person who could have stopped this was ME. And I could not do it. That's how deeply my issues of fear run. And that is terrifying, pathetic, sad.

I'm not saying I got the world's ugliest tattoo. It's okay. Just okay. In the words of RuPaul, meh. I don't want meh. I want astounding. And I didn't do what I needed to to make that happen or not happen.

I just have been in awe over the fact that I asked for dotwork and the artist expressed no concern over this, literally had my existing tattoo right above where they were working and continued to not emulate that style of shading at all. Most of this is my fault, 90% of it. But there was negligence on the artists side and I genuinely don't think they meant it to be. I just don't think they had enough experience, but they too should have spoke up if they didn't feel they could carry it out. They gave me no inclination that they could not or would not be doing dotwork. At any point. And I do feel upset that I don't think they put in the effort or care to work off my existing tattoo in their design, and in looking back, their design also does not look nearly anything like the designs I gave for example. It was my job to walk away and request a redesign or to cancel and I didn't. So in the end this is on me. And it has been very taxing on my mental state.

To end this shit show: the tattoo I just got costed half of what my first one did, while only having taking the fraction of time as my first and being less then half the size of my first. It is not nearly as clean, it certainly reflects their level of experience. The shop environment was not fantastic: it felt a bit like as if I had walked into a chain restaurant...but a tattoo shop. There were no private rooms, there were no tattoo chairs. They were literal stools and that's not...not professional or normal. And I chose to continue.

I'm faced with some really tough decisions moving forward. I am at least thankful it is relatively small ish and wraps towards my inner arm which makes it less visible. But I'm at a crossroads of whether I go through the whole mess of trying to find a FOURTH artist to try and finish my sleeve the way it was meant to be finished (dotwork, whole sleeve design etc) and make the best of it at the risk of having a fucking patchwork arm. Or I continue to work with this artist and see the design through myself (literally design it myself which I didn't want to do but it doesn't appear that I should leave this to them), so that at least the remainder of my arm is consistent shading and work.

And because I've made it sound like the tattoo is atrocious, be assured it's not trash by any means. It's just not what I wanted. Big sis learned a big lesson.

(the immediate center is bothering me the most. But I think it can be altered. Nonetheless. The skill/experience level shows, unfortunately. And you can certainly see the difference between the stipple shading on my first tattoo and the regular shading on the new one.)

I am trying to be positive and that's all I can do. I accept the results and I think it can be fixed to a certain extent, and I can only hope as I move forward that I make the right decision and that the end product is something I enjoy.

#aye aye aye children #it was a big lesson is all i can say #genuinely helped to get all this out #i was able to identify my biggest stressor of this whole experience which is a disappointment in myself first and foremost #but i have hope #and it will be okay #as my dear anon reminded me tis but a bump in the road #sorry for the huge ass rant but i have been having the worst anxiety over it and i do feel a lot better #and i am glad to get this off my chest and move on #it's like a resolution to move forward now #deep breath! :-)

6 notes · View notes

jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

On Your Six, Chapter 1

Okay first of all, did we all coincide the Taiqrow Week with Father’s Day... accidentally? Because that’s secretly genius.

Secondly, whoops we’re also meshing with Qrowin week - hope y’all are okay to share!

Finally, let’s get down to business. Hi y’all, hope you haven’t missed me too much. Hopefully I can make up for my silence with this absolute beast of a fanfic. This is going to be a single, interconnected story matching the prompts of the entire week. I hope those of you who choose to read it, will enjoy it!

Day 1: Tattoos for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overrall

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Marks

The day Taiyang walked into his shop, before even a single word was spoken, he knew.

It wasn’t from any particular mannerism. Everyone’s body language was different. A chattering mouth. Averted eyes. A tapping foot. A drooped posture. In the short time Qrow had been doing this, he’d learned no single action could encapsulate the variety in which people expressed their shame.

Yet, not a single one could escape the stench. It was a foul thing. Sharp and smokey, like a tire fire on a junkyard, it lacquered over an omega’s scent so completely that it was near impossible to catch a whiff of the true smell that was originally there.

Even now, as Qrow inspected the damage upon his former friend’s bare back, mere inches away from the man’s scent glands, he couldn’t pick out a hint of the sunflowers and fresh soil that was Tai. Nothing left except the reek of burnt rubber and dishonor.

He didn’t call attention to it, just like he didn’t call attention to the shake in his friend’s shoulders as he placed a hand over the first mark. “This is extensive.”

“I know. But, I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Even as he turned his head to look at him, Tai hunched over a bit, and the brand seared across his shoulder blades stretched with the movement. “You’ll help me, right?”

Qrow’s eyes flitted between watery eyes and stained skin where the word SLUT, all in caps like some mockery of a grand declaration, taunted his every decision since their falling out and left the taste of bile on his tongue.

“Of course.” He promised.

It was widely thought that it was a farmer that first came up with branding back during the Early Modern period. Having been “inspired” by the tagging of the cattle which kept them in order, the alpha decided to do the same to omegas, ascertained the same outcome would follow. The practice was later adopted by prisons and other corrective facilities. Back then, it was merely a way of keeping track of those who had been in and out of the system by searing the skin with an iron that had the center’s insignia on it.

Advancements to the printing press and mail systems did away with that particular need, but while the jails abolished the practice, reformatories did not, releasing studies that claimed the procedure resulted in more ‘proper’ and ‘desired’ behaviors in omegas and were absolutely critical to full rehabilitation. Despite newer evidence showing these original claims were likely falsified simply for convenience and often actually had a devastating effect on an omega’s psyche, the three-century long old policy had yet to be abolished from the system.

The most the outcries had done the past few decades was change the method on which the ‘brand’ was applied. Instead of an iron, it was done with a tattoo needle and instead of an insignia, it became a single word that was like a permanent reminder of what landed the omega in the facility to begin with. The stench was caused by the use of the chemically enhanced ink that made it impossible for laser technology to fully remove.

In short, if an omega wanted the mark gone, their only choice was to cut out their own skin. Most, like his mother, accidentally killed themselves trying.

Which led to where Qrow was today, trying to shake things up in the only way he knew how. So, he jumped off society’s grid, took up a needle and his drawing skills, and turned the marks into works of art. More importantly, he gave the omegas who came to his door a way to recover and take back their lives.

He just never thought Tai would be one of them.

Once he’d taken the pictures he needed and Tai’s shirt was back on, things were relaxed enough he could brew some tea. As he handed the other man his cup, Qrow finally asked, “So, how’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard.” He replied, fingers wrapping around the porcelain. “The omegas back at the reformatory would whisper before bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were talking about you.”

Qrow froze, trying to hide his trepidation. “Oh? They say my name?”

Tai snorted. “Not your name, but a name.” His expression turned cheeky. “Don’t worry though. Only someone who knows Harbinger used to be your Relics & Wyverns character could put the pieces together.”

“Ah, can it!” He barked as a flush worked its way up his neck. Still, tension drained from him. While there were no laws that specifically stated what an omega was required to do with their mark after their rehabilitation was complete, if he was caught tampering with it for them, he knew the courts could claim he was willfully interfering with a person’s emotional stability. Might even get him on a few counts of practicing mental health care without a license too.

Still, he didn’t particularly want to be sent to the slammer, which was why he worked so hard to keep to the underground. Never told anyone his name. Moved often. Kept minimal contact with clients. Whatever it took to make sure only the people who needed to find him could.

“I’m glad that you’re doing alright for yourself.” Tai said, giving a cursory glance to the shoddy working space that doubled as his apartment. Beyond his tattoo kit, he rarely took much with him when he relocated. Sometimes he got lucky on the accommodations and the place would already be partially furnished, other times he had to make do with what he could afford from the nearest thrift store.

This place was one of those latter times. He had a mattress on the torn up box spring with a chipped nightstand beside it, a circular, rickey table with two chairs for the dining room, a fairly barren kitchen area, and a slightly beat-up leather recliner for the clients.

It wasn’t hard to see Tai was really reaching as he said, “Your place is… nice?”

It was Qrow’s turn to snort. “At least be honest and tell me I live in a shithole.”

“I was not going to – okay, yeah it is kind of a shithole. But, you’re eating okay and everything, right?”

What an omega. “Yes mom, I’m getting my three squares a day and I’m even brushing my teeth before bed.” He lent back, the plastic chair creaking underneath as he did so. “But you didn’t exactly come here to critique my living conditions. Think there’s a lot more important stuff to talk about, don’t you?”

Suddenly, the tea was much more interesting than his face. “Yeah. Right. Um, guess there’s a lot to catch you up on, huh? You don’t even know about-”

“Whoa, hold up a sec.” He quickly interrupted. “Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t ask for any of my clients’ stories unless they feel like sharing. Some do, some don’t. But my help doesn’t come with any strings attached.” He met his gaze, stressing the next part carefully, “Even if they’re friends, okay?”

Tai still seemed to hesitate. “But, don’t you want to know about Yang?”

Of course, he did. He had about a thousand and one questions whirling through his head. But that didn’t matter right now. “You ready to talk about her?”

For the second time that day, tears shimmered in Tai’s eyes. He looked away quickly, saying nothing.

Yeah. He figured as much.

“Then no.” Qrow cleared his throat some. “Besides, I’m still a total disaster when it comes to handling people when they cry.”

That one, at least, earned him a weak chuckle.

“Some things never change?” Tai said with a sniff, rubbing the corner of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“If it ain’t broke…” He shrugged. “Anyways, what I meant was, how do you want to change up that lil’ blemish a’yours?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“Turn it into a single design. But, I’ve never had to work on one so large before. That thing’s taking up about half of your back. Still doable, just… more difficult.” It was easy to busy his designs enough the word got lost under all the rest. Working on a scale of this size though, there weren’t many things he could think of that would both look nice and cover up the word. “Not to mention, we’ll have to take a lot of breaks, so your skin can heal.”

“How long do you think it would take?”

“Well, with three weeks between each session and the scale and details… probably nine to twelve months?”

Tai’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no I mean…” He sighed. “I was just, kind of hoping it would be done before October, is all. Before the kids come home.”

Kids?!

As in plural?!

Qrow had to bite his tongue to physically stop himself from breaking his own rule. Took a deep, steadying breath.

Okay. That was six months away. There was no way. Unless…

“Well, we could make it four separate designs. One for each letter. That way I could work on one side and then the other while it’s healing. If we meet every week, should be doable. Gonna be some long hours under the needle for you though.”

Tai lit up just like the sun he was named after. “I can handle it. I’ll do anything. Oh-! We could even make it four dragons, couldn’t we?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. Give me your scroll deets. I’ll work up some designs over the next few days and send them to you.” As he pulled out his device to input the information, he added, “We gotta work out a schedule too. What days are RO?”

“She visits on Tuesdays and Saturdays right now. It’ll go down to once a week pretty soon. I’m also TA-ing at Sanctum Middle, so weekdays are pretty full.”

It was all par for the course. Even after doing time at the reformatory, omegas still had to have frequent visits from their rehabilitation officer, to make sure they were keeping a steady job and homelife. That meant good evaluations from his superiors and a living space that looked like not even a speck of dust had had a chance to touch down. This was especially important for omegas like Tai, who would have to fight for every top mark he got. If he failed to, the RO would claim he was still unfit to raise his own children and keep them in the fostering system.

Qrow knew that was the reason for the six-month time limit. He had no doubt that once Tai was out of parole and had his pups back, he’d be hightailing it out of the kingdom. But for the RO to still be visiting at that frequency… “Did you come looking for me right after you got out?”

“I-” The tea had become interesting again. And cold. “Yeah. I knew you were working out of Mistral, and Atlas allows for transfers to Argus.”

At this rate, his tongue was probably going to have indents from his incisors. Once he knew he wasn’t going to start prying or, worse yet, shouting at Tai - because really how stupid could he be?! – he opened his mouth and said, “So, Sundays then?”

For the first time in nearly six years, Tai smiled at him. “Sounds perfect.”

For the next few days, Qrow did nothing but draw. Whether it was with a buzzing needle or a pencil, his hand was rarely empty. Even as he downed his morning coffee or spun his suppertime noodles onto his fork, his other hand was moving over a sheet of paper, his muse on overdrive as he tried to pick out the perfect designs for each letter. By nightfall, he was sending at least half a dozen pages full of sketches to Tai, then checking his phone every five minutes as he impatiently anticipated his reply.

It didn’t actually matter where they started, because once they decided on which letter was going first, Qrow’s focus would narrow to the second one over. The tricky thing was, Tai had always been the type who was simple to please – well before a reformatory could ever drill that lesson into him. Even when they were young, whether it was a question of what game they wanted to play or what food they wanted to eat, Tai would almost always just grin and say ‘whatever you want’. Which meant, every sketch was perfect and Qrow had to work twice as hard to actually find something he truly fell in love with.

He knew he finally struck gold for S when Tai figured out how to use the circling tool on his scroll and sent the shot back with an exuberantly loud ‘THIS ONE’, followed by a horrendous amount of exclamation points.

Qrow had never felt prouder.

It was a small effort to resketch the piece in full and line it. Adding color was more challenging, as he had to balance what looked nice with the limitations of his inks. But leaving it without was absolutely not an option. Not for someone who used to decorate his walls with paintings of tropical beaches and autumn-locked forests and had had a Crayola box spectrum of begonias sitting on his windowsill in his childhood room. Tai was a man who radiated a rainbow both in his life and in his heart. To try to dull that by leaving him in nothing but blacks and grays was a crime Qrow wasn’t willing to commit.

Besides, the design wouldn’t translate well without it.

So, he kept working at it until he knew it was just right. When the omega’s excitement only seemed to grow, he knew his labor was over.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

6 notes · View notes

tongkachiunit04 · 1 year

Text

UCAS Personal Statement Draft

Now more than ever, Gaming technology is rapidly developing, teenagers have easier access to games. Gaming has been an important part in my teenage years, ever since I discovered my interests towards animation and digital drawing, especially towards the game art industry became the major career that I am targeting.

I have more than enough experiences in 3D modelling, animating with Blender, and most Adobe Creative Collections in the course for Lv3 Ext Diploma in Graphic Design, which I am currently studying. I am confident that by the time I finish the course, I will have sufficient knowledge and skills to take part in different tasks and projects at good quality. Before taking this course, I discovered my talent and interest in digital design and 3D modelling by watching Youtube tutorials for Blender, while I was studying science-related A-level subjects. I was able to get my hands on sorts of different techniques in digital art with fewer time spent than others in terms of self-learning, and more on developing and enhancing my skills. I can feel a stronger connection towards this digital art industry than any other careers that I thought I would be, with my talent giving me a great sense of achievement.

During my time creating game content and animations, I have self-taught lots of the digital drawing techniques on different media, for instance, Blender and Clip Studio, by watching tutorials and exploring techniques on the internet. At first, I found out the skills required are very technical and the specific skill level range is huge for both 2D and 3D arts; In the beginning, it took me a while to know about making meshes and there were lots of mistakes with the vertices and the polys, and start drawing from fine arts to digital art are a step up for everything. But after more practice and trials, I started building up more passion and confidence when I made fewer mistakes compared to that in the beginning.

Being able to make good judgement and decision are the key aspect of this industry, I have taken part in different work experiences, for example, in a company program on Woman’s Rights, I have given lots of visual ideas in our team for redesigning the format of visualising the book into a more pleasing animated result and the clients from the company adored it. I was also recommended to a new Chinese company by a friend from Canada to redesign their logo by using Illustrator and Photoshop. I feel excited whenever my clients praise my ideas, even though the restrictive guidelines make the job more challenging, it took me more than 2 weeks to produce a perfect result for my client, but I’m still enjoying the progress of communicating with them and the process while doing the work.

Last year my Diploma course gave me a good shot at being a group leader of my idea for my horror-themed group project called Morkit. The leadership experience gives a better understanding of how crucial group work management is, especially when it involves working in a busy industry. I learnt how to study my team’s weaknesses and strengths and take advantage of different teammate's skills so they can work in a zone where they are capable of producing the best piece and reduce the amount of stress from either my teammates and I.

In the future, I aspire to be Senior Game Artist for games companies like Capcom, Mihoyo or Riot Games. I’m well organised with the work I have been doing, I have a positive and hard-working attitude to work and also to motivate other people in their work, while helping them with ideas or with the skills they need. I am looking forward to expanding my area of skills with both quality and quantity of new skills while working on more projects and companies. I believe my strong work ethic and dedication to working and helping others in a team will make me a strong candidate, especially when teamwork and passion is such a crucial value in the animation and game art industry.

Feedback from Elli:

You need to explain your technical skills further, as you focus too much on the 3D modelling. Since you are applying for game art and animation you should talk about skills related to these. I am not sure why you want to study this yet. You have a lot of words that don’t say a lot. Some things are repeated. The person reading this needs to get a sense of who you are, I don’t get that yet. Remember, you are selling yourself to the Uni, you should be using very positive language.

0 notes

adsfdgsd · 3 years

Text

For $1 more you got your own bathroom

For $1 more you got your own bathroom.. “But yes, my lord, him as well. Certainly, they gave us all we could handle and we're just disappointed right now.". There are two storm systems that will affect us this week and I will go bottines cloutees femme into more detail on these set ups soon.. Helping set up the Eagles passing game is the effective rushing attack from running backs Shawn Brashers (729 yards, 4 TDs) and Shon Lumpkin (601 yards, 4 TDs). The Mac Pro, which will be assembled in the United States, will only have flash storage, eschewing Mens JORDAN Hoodie hard drives for up to 1TB of flash storage, and will sell for $2,999 and up.. “Leave me. The bones were gone, though, so he said, “You have better men than me in your service. Corroborating this, the ASSOCHAM reports states that about 60 per cent of male shoppers and 72 per cent of female shoppers prefer shopping for designer wear in departmental stores. I BUILD HOTELS. Yes, it is a good idea. But Davos felt that he had heard enough. Till Sam returns. But adidas mariposas oneil mellény the move to traveler based travel management means airlines can now consolidate all of this data into a single profile. If bdsm puma you’re a genuine lover of humanity, wish all sensible men the same taste as mine, even with a little filth, or sensible men will soon have nothing to do in the world and there’ll be none but the fools left.. “The dead should not eat better than the living,” he complained, more than once. About half of the 2011 12 team is gone, but graduating their players to higher levels of junior hockey or college hockey is the main mission of the Jr. (There is no running water in the warehouse right now.) The walls cleaned up pretty good. However, it accommodates earthlings in an innovative package with "car like" handling, performance and safety, says it maker. His desire for rational harmonic order meshed with McCartney's similar tendencies, and tethered Lennon's penchant for raw experimentalism, which is why songs like "Tomorrow Never Knows," "A Day in the Life" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" are masterworks, and the Rolling Stones' contemporaneous "Their Satanic Majesties Request" sounds like the work of a bunch of acid heads run amok in the recording studio.. Heavy gold jewelry also became part of the new scene, which continues even kimono long femme grande taille today. She has held many key positions such as the Assistant District Commander in "E" Division's North District, Officer hanorace panda barbati in Charge of Prince George Detachment, and Director General of National Aboriginal Policing and Crime Prevention Services, National Criminal Operations. That is why that if I don't box, if I don't eat, my kids will never do any stealing, killing, any of that shit. This study was designed to analyse larger, visible particles and is a measure of the visual impact of residue. Enthusiast level hardware is exciting, especially if you can make use of its full potential. Aunt Grace is still living, and must be between seventy and eighty years of age; she has, for the last forty years, been an exemplary Christian. Anyway, it was evident that they were not meeting for the first time.. However the story moves with many interesting folds and audiences will bound to taste the delicious food of love and expression in movie. A river choked with corpses. The same principle prevails in every country; on shipboard and in the army a large discretion is always left to the superior. So the countess, who used to be against the engagement, was highly delighted at my success with the princess; but that’s beside kimono long femme grande taille the point. The Bridgewater midfielder controlled the ball and served a pass toward the far post. Any person who shall maliciously dismember or deprive a slave of life shall suffer such punishment as would be inflicted in case the like offence had been committed on a free white person, and on the like proof, except in case of insurrection by such slave, and unless such death should happen by accident in giving such slave moderate correction.—Cobb’s Dig. Cobblestones gave way to devilgrass beneath their horse’s hooves, then to soft wet mud the color of a baby’s nightsoil. I believed in the past all that was said against you, and when you left your parents I was terror-stricken for Alyosha. Lastly, he offered some advice that all mothers should take to heart. Dung was college educated and he felt we should be there and that we were really helping the South Vietnamese, but that there was a downside. Now do a slow rise, and make sure that as you do so, the angle of the foot and the ankle do not change. Free non alcoholic ginger beer and Jamaican patties, dance art performances, jazz piano by Dominik Heins, Pasi and African Marimba, hip hop by Blue Team Blue, performances by Embers Moore. So you can open his eyes towards the world. I was too young—only seven years of age—to understand what was going on. 1, a romantic and heart melting masterpiece. I always admired the way O'Reilly challenged his guests while maintaining a certain level of respect for them as well. And me the mother duck. The drops in October will be much more vivid in appearance than the previous colorways. I was prepared to take the leadership for the team and oakley m frame ice iridium help us get through it.". She thought of all the names that she had worn: Arry, Weasel, Squab, Cat of the Canals. Her serjeant had lost an arm to a giant’s club. I made her laugh too. Views were incredible. Why we chose her: Repeat performances are rare, but we honor Henson for a second straight season because she has continued to be the county's most dominant player. The optional three mode Dynamic Body Control suspension is also lower, while Air Body Control air suspension is also available. Hope this helps u make ur decision. And their biggest friend is the price of gasoline at the pump. After the birth of Princess Rhaenys, her mother had been bedridden for half a year, and Prince Aegon’s birth had almost been the death of her. And Joanie Yeomans believe much of their success can be traced back to the Comfort Keepers philosophy of treating each client like family.. It was scarcely necessary to tell them that, if evidence fixed guilt on this prisoner, they should not hesitate to record a verdict of guilty, although they should write that verdict in tears of blood.. In Volantis he fekete táska női had seen the galleys taking on provisions. Fundeberg. So, whether it's the soles, the hiking boot footbeds, the scree collar, the uppers or anything else, make sure your waterproof hiking boots are still in good shape when you get ready to use them. He stumbled upon a critical moment in visible air history when he rotated the bag, placing the seams on the top and bottom instead of on the perimeter.. I realized that she wanted something quite different, that it was simply that she loved me, loved me immensely, could not live without me and without being interested in everything that concerned me; and I believed that no sister ever loved a brother as Natasha loved me. The princess was in a perfect ecstasy, she almost cried with joy...

1 note · View note

noyoucantpinmedown · 3 years

Text

Frat Party

Written for Day 4 of Gwuncan Week 2020. AU: College.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706609

The house was bursting with people. Duncan squeezed his way through the sea of partygoers, pushing the front door open and stepping out into the night. Fuck, even the lawn was crowded. College kids passing a joint back and forth, couples making out, a bunch of people centered around the keg a few feet away. It was like the entire university was there. The Alpha Sigma Phi knew how to party. And Duncan always made sure to attend.

Walking a few feet away from the crowd, he leant on the wall and began rummaging through his pockets for that night’s earnings. Fast fingers counted the money and assembled it into a small, tidy stack, which was then folded in half and stored inside his wallet. It had been a good night. He was out of weed, at least for regular clients. He always kept some for himself, and for special clients. Said special clients were currently by the keg, one doing a keg stand and the other helping him do said keg stand. Geoff and DJ were Alpha Sigs, but they were surprisingly chill. They regularly bought from him, and Duncan gave them discounts since he always made bank at their parties.

A girl came to stand about a foot away from him, leaning against the wall with a sigh. She didn’t seem to be aware of his presence, with her arms crossed and her eyes staring into space. Duncan eyed her. Short, thin, blue hair, pale as hell. Mesh shirt over a bustier, skirt, stockings, boots. He took out a cigarette and lit it. "Nice night." She jumped at the sound of his voice, eyes looking around in alarm. He snickered. “Bit jumpy, huh?” She blushed. “I just- I didn’t realize you were there.” Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she looked at him, then at the ground again. Duncan took a drag, aware that she could probably feel his eyes on her. He recognized her now; he’d seen her around inside, when she first showed up with her friends. She was friends with that vet major chick Geoff was smitten with but didn’t have the balls to ask out yet. But where Geoff was tounge-tied, Duncan was bold, so he decided to take his chances. He was done “working” for the night, and she was hot and right there. Where was the harm? “I saw you before, with your friends. Did they drag you to this?” She didn’t miss a beat, deadpanning, “No, I walked.” That took him aback, just a bit. “Just doesn’t look like your kind of scene, is all.” “That’s because it’s not.” She glanced at him with her big, dark eyes. “But I guess it’s yours.” “Oh, yeah. Nothing like making money off of drunk idiots.”

The corners of her lips turned up just a bit. Duncan-1, Her-0. “Well, I hope you didn’t rip my friend off.” “Blondie? Nah, Geoff wouldn’t let me. He’s into her big time, by the way.” “Oh, we know.” The serious look on her face and the quickness with which she answered made him laugh. “You really threw him under the bus there.” Duncan shrugged. “Whatever makes them get together faster.” “Well, Bridge thinks he’s cute, so he might actually stand a chance.” “You really threw her under the bus there.” She rolled her eyes. He finished the cigarette and threw the butt on the grass. “So what do you do? Aside from being dragged places by your friends.” “Study Art History, and agonize about how broke I am.” He smiled at that. "You?" He looked out into the night. "Dropped out of business school last year. Now I'm bartending and dealing on my free nights." "What do you wanna do?" "Tattoos. I'd like to open my own parlor." "Really? That's amazing." Her eyes lit up. It was the first time in their entire conversation that she looked entertained and wasn't trying to hide it. She caught herself, however. "And for the record, I agreed to come here. Free drinks." "Smart girl", he smirked. Things were going well, so he decided to get a bit closer to her. The music inside was so loud he was having trouble hearing her anyway. "Can I have a cigarette?" "On one condition." She raised an eyebrow at him, looking him up and down, interested. "You tell me how can we get in touch later."

She shook her head, but a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. She pulled out her phone, opening Instagram and handing it to him. Duncan raised his eyebrows in mild disbelief, but accepted the phone and followed his own Instagram account from hers. Gwen, her bio read, next to a zodiac emoji that he couldn't recognize, and the quote Now that you're dead, what are you going to do with your life? He handed it back, along with a pack of cigarettes. Gwen turned to face him, leaning towards him. He had the lighter ready. The "Didn't think you'd cave in that easy." Gwen shrugged, smoke filtering out through her parted lips. "I can always block you." Duncan smirked. "I don't think you will." "Confident, aren't you." He leaned closer. "It's been going quite well, so yeah. I am." "Were you set on me since earlier, or since I came over here?" "Honestly? You getting all startled was kinda cute." Gwen shook her head, but she was still smiling, and she still had that playful glint in her eye. "You don't have to say that just to get laid." "No, it was. It really was." She bit her lip. "Don't do that." "Why?" "I'd rather it be me." If she was going to laugh at him for it, he didn't let her. He pulled her in, arms wrapping easily around her waist, mouth demanding against hers. He managed to press her against the brick wall. She surprised him by pushing her tongue inside his mouth, kissing him every bit as hard and passionately as he did her. Pretty soon his hands were going lower to squeeze her butt and she was grabbing fistfuls of his jacket to keep him close.

The sirens broke them apart. Gwen jumped in his arms. A police cruiser had just parked in the street. Duncan could see Alejandro, one of the Alpha Sigs that was somehow likeable despite being a stuck-up little shit, running down the steps of the house to speak to the officer. DJ was also heading that direction. Geoff was nowhere to be found. Maybe he'd finally grown some balls and taken Bridgette upstairs. "I was wondering when they'd show up." "Shit." She bit her lip, then glanced at up him. "Wanna get out of here?"

#gwuncan #gwuncan week 2020 #wtf is this oh god #my writing

13 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1159

survey by -egocentricity-

Describe the last time you...

Went swimming: It was in Nasugbu with Angela, Sofie, and Gab nearly a couple of years ago. We wanted to go to a nearby beach before the semester started, so we planned the trip at the last minute and literally just right after we enrolled for our classes.

Went on a date: It was at BGC at this nice, romantic French restaurant. Then as we headed back to the car we spotted a jazz bar that had a live band performing, so we took a detour there to have drinks and nachos.

Were hurt by someone you love: My mom says a lot of hurtful things all the time I’ve stopped keeping track of them and letting them affect me too much, but I’m sure she’s done it recently.

Did something nice for yourself: I got myself a night lamp to improve the ambience in my room and make it feel even more homey. The lamp I had before it was just something I borrowed from my parents and it had white light, so it didn’t feel the most calming. The one I have right now emits this soft yellow shade that makes me feel infinitely more relaxed.

Did something nice for someone else: I ordered KFC at like 1 AM last Wednesday because I was feeling hungry and there was nothing at home that could meet my cravings, and aside from getting orders for my parents I also got a Zinger for my delivery driver as a way to thank him and lift his spirits for working that late into the night.

Were injured: I always sport some sort of scratch or gash somewhere on my body these days from playing with Cooper. This morning I got a new wound on one of my knuckles since he was pulling on his leash way too hard when I was walking him.

Went to the hospital: I had to take blood and urine tests last May to figure out what was wrong with me since I had been sick for a week by that point. That was also during the peak of the pandemic, so there was a lot of anxiety about me catching Covid. It turned out to be a UTI, and even though that technically sucks the whole family was relieved it wasn’t Covid.

Understood something that previously confused you: I had my dad explain to me how buying and bidding for houses works. Hahaha I am sooooo not equipped to be a fully-functioning adult.

Faked sick to get out of going to class: I don’t think I ever did this. If I had wanted to skip class, I just skipped it.

Hung out with your friends: I went to Perfy’s with 7 friends shortly before it shut down for good as a result of the pandemic. We had some beer and bar chow, and to be completely frank it felt quite nice to have that one night where things felt normal again, as ignorant as it was. We vaped until we were dizzy and some of them smoked too much that the smell ended up clinging to me and my clothes, but luckily I got home when my whole family was already in their rooms so no one was able to smell me.

Met someone new: There’s this girl who recently got onboarded to one of our client brands and we started working with her about a week or two ago. She’s honestly been a bit over the place, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because she’s fairly new at a particularly hectic time in her workplace. My first impression of her was that she gave such a strong UP vibe so I looked her up on Facebook, and it turns out we went to the same college and the same high school.

Did something that you were afraid to do: A couple of months ago I had a one-on-one video call organized by the CEO of my employer so that she could get to know me better. She was super nice and listened attentively to my answers to all her questions, but it was easy to tell she wanted to see what I could bring to the table and how well I could mesh with the team especially since I’ve never met her and everyone else in person, so I made sure my social game was maxed out for those 15 minutes haha.

Did something you promised you would never do: I vaped literally half an hour ago. I never expected to form a habit out of it especially after being vehemently against any form of smoking for most of my life. Not particularly proud of it but then again I’m here for a good time and not a long time lmao.

Regretted something: Lazada had this huge app-wide sale last week and their Hydro Flasks were like ₱600 cheaper, but I didn’t buy it because I was feeling stingy that day haha. Now the products are back to their normal price and they’ll probably never get to be that cheap again :( There’s another sale happening tomorrow but the discounts aren’t as big, but I’ll probably place an order this time.

Went shopping: I went to H&M last January to get Andi a late Christmas present. I asked Leigh what they would appreciate as a gift, and she told me they’d wanted to start experimenting with feminine clothes so I got them a nice black skirt and this really elegant dress (that I honestly wanted for myself). I heard they cried once they opened the paper bag, and making people cry with the gifts you get them will always be one of the best feelings ever haha.

Asked someone out/were asked out: Idk, it was 5 years ago and nothing I want to remember anymore.

Broke up with someone: I’ve never broken up with someone.

Had someone break up with you: It was terrible and the stuff of all my nightmares combined, and it happened in the middle of an already-shitty month to boot so I had little hope for myself to come out of it alive. I had everything planned and ironed out and all that was left was for me to leave.

It’s been 7 months and I’ve never felt emotionally and mentally better and healthier.

Were heartbroken: I follow this animal rescue NGO on Facebook and they regularly post about dogs who’ve lived through awful situations and need urgent care and forever homes to live in. Fortunately the page has a wide reach and regularly gets support, and I try to donate to their bank account as often as I can.

You were angry with someone: Haven’t directed my anger towards anyone in a while.

You felt "in love" with someone: It was during the time I was still reeling over the breakup and was caught in an endless loop of still being in love with them and forcing myself to finally detach.

You wanted something unrealistic: I was at the rooftop this morning and I could feel the temperature getting warmer every hour, and when I finally couldn’t tolerate the heat and was forced to go back indoors I felt super annoyed because all I want is to live somewhere with a chilly climate all-year round hahaha UGH

You made someone angry: It was when I spilled a tiny drop of soup onto the dining table and my mom had a complete meltdown about it. After 89457843957 years of her getting mad at First World Problems I wasn’t intimidated by her anymore, but it still irked me at how something so little can piss her off so I just decided not to speak a word for the rest of the night.

You made someone's day: I hope I made my delivery driver’s night when I got him his burger as a surprise. I hold so much respect and appreciation for them considering they’ve been working very hard to get people’s goods to their doorsteps in the midst of a global pandemic.

Tried something new: When I bought my lamp it was the first time I got something to decorate my room. I usually spend all my money on food, so that was a nice change to try out.

Tried your best: I always try my best at work and to make each day more improved than the last.

Didn't try at all: A couple of nights ago I asked my dad to light up my scented candle and he challenged me to try lighting up a matchstick by myself for once. I was all primed and ready to go, but backed out at the last second :(( I told him there was a big chance I could freak out, drop the lit matchstick. and set something in the dining room (where we were) on fire, and that’s when he gave up and just lit it up himself hahaha

Got nothing for your efforts: I’d gladly refer you to my big waste of a 6-year relationship.

Had a serious talk with someone: I always have deep conversations with Andi and they’ve been about various topics over the last few months.

Told someone how you really feel: It was when Bea scheduled a quick one-on-one catch-up call with me to check up on how I was doing with work and if I was doing okay with the everyday craziness of it all. But I didn’t say anything grave; I just told her I honestly like the work we do and that it’s nice that it keeps me excited everyday, so there’s little to complain about.

Hid what you felt from someone: One of my co-workers, Denise, is honestly a little challenging to work with. I always have to pick up after her and remind her of stuff we need to do together, and even Bea has let a few comments slide between us about how difficult she can be. But considering I’m a lot newer than her and we’ve never met each other I’ve stayed quiet for now.

Took something that didn't belong to you: I got the matchbox from my parents’ room to ask one of them to light up the aforementioned scented candle I have.

Borrowed something from someone: I borrowed one of my sister’s cords the other evening to charge my vape pen.

Lost a game: This was when my orgmates and I played a couple Jeopardy games over Zoom about a month ago and I lost to Robin.

Won a game: Not sure, I don’t really play a lot of games.

Told someone you love him/her: Jo, after she shared that she tested positive for Covid.

Went on vacation: It’s been a year and a half and the world has changed a lot since then, but my family and I went to Tagaytay and Cavite for a quick weekend getaway; it was Tagaytay on Saturday then we drove to another hotel in Cavite the next day. We played Heads Up, ate Jelly Belly jellybeans, had a lot of nice food, took some walks, but then I also had to work on a Powerpoint in between because I had a presentation that was due that Monday lol.

Went on a roadtrip: Last January we drove to Tagaytay (again) for my dad’s 50th birthday. Before heading to our accommodation we had brunch at La Creperie where we happened to be seated beside Larry Gadon – bleck – and his wife. Then we headed to the condo unit where we stayed the night at, ordered a samgyupsal set, and I watched GMM’s Let’s Talk About That into the night until I fell asleep.

Flew on a plane: That would be over two years ago and it was during our vacation to Bicol. That also marks the last time I ever spoke a word to my brother, because on our way home my family got into a heated argument and he ended up slapping me in the face. I don’t tolerate physical acts of violence, and especially not from someone younger than me, so I was more than glad to cut ties with him moving forward.

Were annoyed with a family member: My mom is politically incorrect 24/7, and it grinds my gears 24/7.

Took something too far: Idk, maybe cutting off ties with Gab. A part of me wanted to reconnect at some point, once I’ve healed; but I’ve reached a point in my life where that doesn’t seem so necessary anymore. Life just works funnily sometimes, I guess. I haven’t completely cut her off; we’re still mutuals on Twitter (though she also never uses it so it barely counts), and also still Facebook friends (though I’ve unfollowed her and I’ve also blacklisted her from seeing my posts – thank god for that feature), so now it’s really just a matter of pressing some buttons and finally disconnecting for good.

Gave up too soon: I wanted to learn riding a bike during the early days of the pandemic last year, but I gave up after like two days of being unsuccessful.

Listened to a band you had not heard before: I started exploring some of BTS’ music earlier this week after weeks of just knowing Dynamite.

Judged someone: Some of the bloggers that I regularly correspond with for work, and who’ve recently added me on Facebook, have opinions I don’t necessarily agree with.

Asked a "stupid question": I ask a lot of newbie questions at work that maybe some people would consider dumb, but I’d rather get answers to do my work correctly than take guesses and end up doing the wrong thing.

Got "a stupid answer": Not sure.

Took a picture of something/someone: I recently took a photo of my work desk setup so I could show off my new pretty lamp, hahaha.

Told a lie: I told my mom my Hydro Flask is still with Angela and that I should be getting it soon, but I really lost it a few years ago and would have to buy a new one.

Told the truth: Idk I tell the truth all the time.

#survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

financenfreelance · 3 years

Text

6 Tough Lessons Learned From Freelancing For 6 Years 💸💜

Here is a list of 6 tough lessons learned from freelancing for 6 years. These are some of the lessons that I had to learn the hard way. Don’t be dumb like I was! Learn from my freelancing mistakes.

💜 6 Lessons Learned from Freelancing

So… I have to let you in on a little secret.

This is probably a shock to no one, but I didn’t exactly hit the ground running when I first started freelancing. When I first started, I had to take several L’s in my beginning stages, and it was tough. Unfortunately, I had to learn it the hard way – through trial by fire.

I sucked at freelancing for a WHILE. There were so many mistakes made that I’m surprised that I stuck with it.. or made any money at all. I got serious about freelancing when I was too broke to move out from a toxic relationship… (story on how I went from broke to $1000 a week here) but for a good while, my freelance side hustle was a flop at BEST.

If you’re a beginner, learn from my mistakes.

Learn from my lessons learned from freelancing. Don’t be stupid like I was! You don’t have to learn the hard way to become a success. Here are 6 tough lessons I’ve learned from 6 years of freelancing.

“A smart man makes a mistake, learns from it, and never makes that mistake again. But a wise man finds a smart man and learns from him how to avoid the mistake altogether.”

Roy H. Williams

Related Article: Advice For Freelance Beginners

💜Lesson #1 – As a freelancer, you are now your own business, NOT an employee

And don’t let anyone treat you as such.

The first lessons learned from freelancing is this. Hear me loud and clear: You’re the boss who is running things now.

Of course, you will have clients to please, and you should go above and beyond on your services for them.

Also, make sure you are open-minded about the categories that require collaboration. Sometimes clients will have specific restrictions, times, and other requests or suggestions. But this my dear, is a business transaction first and foremost.

Be Your Own Boss

You are the one who dictates your schedule, your pay, and your limitations (more on that later.) The on who decides your working conditions is YOU. They are not hiring you as an employee and you are not at their beg and call.

“At the end of the day, I’m the biggest boss. I’m self-made.”

– Rick Ross

Last but not least, as a business, make sure you set yourself up for success. Be sure to check out: How to Set Goals for Your Freelancing Business as well.

💜Freelance Lesson #2 – Some work isn’t worth the money

The next tough lesson learned from freelancing is this:

Do not work with problematic people.

The word “NO” will become your biggest ally when your freelance career gets going. Trust me, some work is not worth the money.

Sometimes, this will take some trial and error before you get the hang of it, but I realized that the clients that I REFUSED define me just as much as the clients I took on.

Freelance Client Red Flags

If you see any of these red flags, consider turning down this client:

Client is nit-picking constantly and unreasonably

Your client is trying to lower your rate

They are unprofessional, dismissive

Client goes long periods of time without responding to you or paying you

The client is overly critical, hot headed, or just plain mean

Client and you just don’t mesh well

They withhold payment from you or they are a hassle to collect payment from

You feel uncomfortable IN ANY WAY talking to this client.

Avoid Stressful Clients Like the Plague

If you feel like this client is going to be trouble in any way… DON’T DO IT.

I have gained so much peace of of mind by firing and rejecting problematic customers. Time is money, so don’t spend valuable time on stress.

Choose to work with people who you have a good rapport, who are polite, and who has mutual respect with you. Having “no client” is actually 100 times better than having a bad one.

“When two people talk with mutual respect and listen with a real interest in understanding another point of view, when they try to put themselves in the place of another, to get inside their skin, they change the world, even if it is only by a minute amount, because they are establishing equality between two human beings.”

– Theodore Zeldin

💜Lesson #3 -SERIOUSLY- The ability to say no is a BLESSING

Another serious lesson learned from freelancing was this: I am not going to be able to be everything to everybody.

This is why you have a unique specialty and skillset. Both you and your client will have a better experience if you are able to set boundaries from the beginning.

Back Away From The Money!

I know it sounds crazy to turn down the money, but like I’ve said before, some money just isn’t worth it. Some jobs will cost you more in the long run than they are worth. Let me give you an example.

When I first was starting out as a graphic designer, even though I had narrowed a specialty, people asked me for all kinds of things. These requests ranged from 3D modeling, video editing, and logo designs, even though I was more of a print designer.

One of my biggest mistakes

One of my biggest mistakes was taking on a video editing project. I had very little experience with video, but I had built a relationship with a client and I didn’t want to turn down an opportunity when I desperately needed the money. My lack of experience should have been my first clue not to take it. The second clue should have been that this was a rush project, and I would be burning myself out to get this thing done. I needed a miracle, but all I had was elbow grease and a stubborn will.

I sleeplessly worked on the project for 12 hours, and it looked like crap. Stupid decisions were made- I was an idiot because had only billed the client for 4 hours. I ended up wasting time, money, and effort on a project that was not meant for me. Not to mention… with such a terrible video, I never heard from that client again—not even for graphic work.

Make sure you draw lines in the sand when possible. If a project isn’t right for you, send your client elsewhere. Manage your client’s expectations as well as your own. Don’t take on any work that you are not qualified for. Trust me.

💜 Freelance Lesson #4 – “That’ll cost you extra.”

I highly recommend that you become acquainted with “That’ll cost you extra.”

From the creators of “No”.

This phrase should be within an arm’s reach for when your client requests anything “beyond”.

Anything that is an emergency will cost you extra. Rush? That’ll cost you extra. Can we just add another… EXTRA. Make sure you have the proper upcharges in mind for any additions that may happen. Don’t be afraid to speak up for yourself and your business.

If you have a client that respects your time and you as a business, they will have no problems paying a fee if it is truly necessary. If not.. not to be rude, but it’s not your problem.

Tough Lesson Learned From Freelancing: Don’t Let It Slide

Trust me, do not think you are being nice by letting something slide once or twice for free. You will be hurting yourself in the long run, because that client will take advantage of your kindness. This will add extra stress to your job and could cause you to resent your clients.

I would also recommend that newbies check out this article for more tips: Freelancing Tips For Beginners: What I Learned My First Year

💜Lesson #5 – A good third of your time will be spent outside of your craft

Like we’ve discussed earlier, as a freelancer you are now the holder of your very own business.

This leads us to the next lesson learned from freelancing.

You will need to make sure that you stay on top of your day to day tasks. These tasks will include keeping track of your income and expenses, planning out your taxes, dealing with your client’s Human Resources Department or Payroll company, and countless other things.

Client communication will also take quite a bit of your time. You will need to make sure you are landing clients, communicating on project status, and keeping up work quotes and invoices. You will also have to stay on top of who has paid you and who hasn’t.

Lesson Learned From Freelancing: Bill for Admin Work

Make sure that you pad this business minutia into your pricing structure, so that you are still getting paid for this time.

Although this sounds stressful, it’s still worth it. The financial freedom that freelancing has allowed me has been invaluable. In addition, getting to make money doing a job that I love really overruled the minutia of business.

Adulting will sneak in through the cracks in all forms, so just make sure to stay on top of it.

💜Freelance Lesson #6 – Be Honest and Own Up to Problems

The final lesson is an important one, and it ties into some things that we’ve already discussed. Make sure you are honest with yourself and your clients.

This goes along with setting boundaries, being able to say no, refusing work that are outside of your scope, and knowing your worth. Be truthful, upfront, and forthcoming, and you will be successful at freelancing.

Not only will you manage realistic expectations for you clients, but you are prioritizing your own wellbeing. Never, ever over-promise and under-deliver.

When Problems Arise

Sometimes, the issue is a miscommunication, or sometimes it’s more serious. Bring things to your client’s attention as soon as it’s a roadblock for you.

The worst time to tell them is when a project is due tomorrow. Work together on these issues to make sure both you and your client is happy. Hey, customers are human too who f up just like the rest of us.

The good ones tend to be understanding as long as you are reasonable!

“I’m not perfect; I make mistakes all the time. All I can do is to try my best to learn from my mistakes, take responsibility for them, and do a better job tomorrow.”

– Lana

💜What It All Boils Down To:

When I first started freelancing, I was kind of a pushover. I let things slide, let people try to control me, and let them walk all over me.

Not anymore.

Throughout my career, I’ve learned to create boundaries and draw lines in the sand like I never have before in my life.

I learned how to speak up for myself and be an advocate for myself and my business, all while gaining respect from my clients and looking stunning in the process.

That is what being a boss is all about.

“Really, every day is the perfect day to boss up. Every day that you wake up is a perfect day to boss up. It’s all about continuing to put one foot in front of the next. That’s what it’s about. Whatever you think you’re going through, just put one foot in front of the next.”

– Rick Ross

Are you a newbie at freelancing? Check out The Ultimate Freelance Guide for Beginners

#freelance #freelancing #online business #make money 2021 #make money online #make money from home

1 note · View note

changbeanie · 5 years

Text

hold my hand, kim seungmin!

◦ genre: fake dating au, friends to lovers au, fluff

◦ pairings: reader x seungmin

◦ word count: 10.6k

◦ description: rule number one of the contract: do not fall in love with kim seungmin... rule number one redacted.

◦ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol

◦ a/n: phew, I promised you this like years back but it’s finally here @seungminsmile + free fall readers need to wait b/c I can’t write action at the moment

day zero.

The cookie dough falls out of your fingers and into the sugar bowl, half-rolled and peanut-shaped, because out of nowhere, Kim Seungmin decides to show up at your front door on the night of a school day.

He’s already inside, courtesy of Woojin, who’s back from college but should really be working on his essay about sustainability; he slacks off all the time, and then complains about the professor not giving him enough time. Old habits die hard, and he’s still procrastinating like he did high school. Only this time, he might not walk the stage if he doesn’t turn in his essay about mesh produce bags.

“Are you here to help me bake cookies for the bake sale?” You ask Seungmin, sticky fingers held up high in the air to prevent them from ruining your shirt.

Seungmin takes a hot second to eye you weirdly; he seems to do that way too often, and it makes you think that he’s highly judgmental—which he totally is. “No,” he answers, deciding not to ruin his favorite maroon hoodie with flour and butter.

“Then get out,” you groan. “These cookies aren’t going to bake themselves.”

“I need to talk to you,” he persists as he follows you to the kitchen. Seungmin scowls at the state of your counter top: flour littered messily, greasy spoons thrown on top of dirty plates, and paper towels clumped together. “Okay, who died in here?”

“Me! I died!” You pick up your lump of cookie dough and continue to roll it into a better-looking ball. “As you can see, I don’t bake,” you tell him.

Seungmin sighs and rolls up his sleeves grudgingly. “Fine. I’ll help you if you help me,” he says, and a smile lights up on your face. He’s totally soft for you, you already know it.

“If you need answers to Friday’s test, all you have to do is ask. If you need the password to Hyunjin’s phone… then you’re fucking on your own because I’m not wrestling him for it just so you can erase your blackmail,” you make clear. Seungmin takes very nice pictures for his Instagram… but the behind the scenes? Not so nice.

“Okay, no. It’s not that,” he says. Seungmin washes his hands before wiping them clean on the checkered kitchen towel; he spoons a wad of dough into his hands and begins to roll it between his palms. “I need you to date me.”

Your cookie dough ball falls out of your fingers and into the sugar bowl—again. “What?” you spat. “Why in the world would you need me to date you?” His proposition renders you speechless because it’s so sudden, so out of the blue. Also, it’d be a fat lie if you told yourself that you haven’t once thought about dating Seungmin. You just didn’t think it would be this soon—you didn’t think he was this soft for you.

“Not literally date. Just fake date,” he explains like he’s enunciating every single syllable to the T. “Just until my aunt decides to leave town.”

“You’re such a little piece of shit, Kim Seungmin. What makes you think that you could use me as a pawn? Do I look like free labor to you?” you retort. Scratch that. Whatever genuine thoughts you had about dating him, they’ve all disappeared. “I hope your aunt sets you up with her client’s weird daughter who cheats her way into Harvard.”

Seungmin’s aunt tends to visit once a year, for a month, and those are the longest thirty days of his life. The worst part is, she loves matchmaking; kind of ironic when she’s tragically single and lives with five cats. “Y/N, I swear. I will pay you in however way you want me to. Lunch every day? Rides to school? Washing your cat’s litter box? Boba?” Seungmin’s desperate at this rate.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Kim Seungmin practically begging on his knees for a favor—you should relish this moment a bit longer before agreeing.

“Hmm, maybe,” you say, placing the finished dough on the lined cookie tray. “But there has to be a contract.”

“A contract. Are you kidding me? Have you been watching too many of those Netflix movies?” Seungmin scoffs because he knows that you know exactly what movies he’s referring to. Those Noah Centineo ones where he always ends up being the eye-catching, swoon-worthy main protagonist dude that gets with the girl every single time. Guilty pleasure but he watches them with Hyunjin too.

“How can we fake date without a contract? That’s like saying… how can there be Romeo without Juliet.” You’re adding more cookie dough to Seungmin’s dough balls because they’re so asymmetrical and measley-looking; if you’re planning on making bank, these cookies better look like they came out of Rosanna Pansino’s kitchen.

He furrows his brows when you scrutinize and judge his shapely dough balls and says, “Easy. Romeo could have stayed with Rosaline and lived a happily ever after.”

You gasp at his monstrosity because he had just ruined a beautiful classic, but you’re not terribly mad about it—he’s actually correct for the most part. “This is different, Seungmin. There needs to be some rules in a business transaction. You don’t see people collaborating without paperwork, and agreements, and disclaimers in minuscule font,” you lecture.

“It’s a pity how you’re majoring in STEM when you could have been in the world of business,” Seungmin states reluctantly. “Okay, fine. We’ll do this your way. What’s rule number one?”

“It’s obvious. We can’t fall for each other. Otherwise, it’d defeat the whole purpose of fake dating.” You try to sound nonchalant. It’s a little regretful because Seungmin’s not that bad of a guy, and out of your friend pool, Seungmin would be one of the top contenders. But then again, your friend group has some questionable people like Han Jisung and Felix Lee… you rest your case.

“Makes sense. Rule number two. We can’t tell anyone about this. Not Hyunjin, not Felix, and not even Woojin,” Seungmin places emphasis. “I’m just making sure that if my aunt sees any of them in public, she won’t put them on trial.”

By the looks of it, he’s a little terrified of his aunt. It’s cute when Seungmin actually gets scared; you’re sort of a sadist when it comes to him. “You’re really not willing to date that Harvard girl, are you?” you ask.

“Please. I’d rather date Hyunjin than date that Harvard girl.”

You offer him a compromising nod and continue your list. “You also have to drive me to school every morning, take me on boba dates, pick me up when my meetings run overtime, and overall pretend to be a good date.”

“Done. My turn.” Seungmin locks eyes with you. “Come with me to family gatherings, make sure everyone buys the act, and hang out at my house at least once a week.”

“It’s a deal, Kim Seungmin.” You offer to shake his hand before realizing that his hands are also covered in sugar and flour, and you pull your hand back. “Help me put the tray in the oven then,” you insist.

“Y/N, it’s not even preheated,” Seungmin deadpans.

You roll your eyes at his statement. Of course, it’s preheated. You checked the settings twenty minutes ago, and it’s—okay, the oven isn’t even on. “I swore it was on a second ago. I’m just never going to bake again… whose idea was it to let me do this?” You let out an outburst, feeling increasingly embarrassed. This is the first and last time you’re volunteering for an elementary school bake sale.

“At least ‘must know how to bake’ isn’t one of the rules on the contract,” he comments. Seungmin thinks that it’s a pretty half-assed contract, considering that only rule number one and rule number two were the only concrete ones. The others are pretty much up for grabs. Really flexible. Much like dating in real life—except it’s not.

His timely comment makes you blush, and rule number one is already shaking.

day one.

After school, Seungmin hauls cardboard boxes filled with neatly packaged sugar cookies, the same ones you had worked on last night, and places them in the trunk of his Honda Accord. Well, his mom’s Honda Accord, but he managed to persuade her to let him use it for the time being. But if Michelle ends up getting a scratch on her, he’s never getting a car of his own.

“I’m late,” you say hurriedly. “I said I was going to be there by three. I’m ten minutes late.” You rush into the car with your belongings and strap on your seat belt. This is your first time in Seungmin’s car with him as the designated driver. It’s fresh. It’s new. And it’s making your heart feel weird because you’re not quite sure how stable rule number one is after seeing Hot Driver Seungmin.

“Next time, why don’t you pick something easier to volunteer for? Like the hospital check-in thing where you tie green visitor wristbands on people,” Seungmin reminds you. He reverses out of your driveway, making sure not to hit your mom’s creepy garden gnome.

“Because that’s so boring,” you whine. “But, I didn’t think you were going to come today.” Your eyes crinkle into crescent moons as you toss a glance in his direction.

Seungmin keeps his eyes fixated on the road like the safe driver he is, glancing both ways at the intersecting streets. “You’re boring,” he comments with a slight scoff. “I’m not bailing on day one of fake dating. How pathetic is that? Besides, you clearly need my help.”

You begin to protest, but then you stop. There’s no use. Seungmin’s help is very much appreciated. Otherwise, you’d have to beg Jisung to drive you down to the elementary school, and his driving leaves your knuckles white after gripping onto the armrests so tightly. “Okay, turn right here,” you say as his personal GPS. “Well, you’re the one who asked me to date you, so you must be pretty boring too.”

“I panicked, okay!” Seungmin eases his car into the narrow, woodsy slope leading into the parking lot of the school campus. He has no idea why he asked you out of everyone he could have asked. Then again, he knows exactly why he asked you. Such hypocrisy.

“Clear-ly,” you chime. “Park anywhere that doesn’t say ‘staff’ in faded white letters, and we’re good.” You crane your neck to survey the remaining spots in the parking lot; there’s not that many left, which is good. That just means that your cookies are going to sell like hotcakes.

Seungmin carefully parks his mom’s car and lets out a relieved sigh, slumping onto his seat. He’s so relatable, honestly. The car spaces are so small that your parents demand you to get out of the car and check every single time. “Who’s the better driver, me or Hyunjin?” he asks playfully, his head leaned all the way back so that it hits the Totoro headrest.

“Today, it’s you. Only because you decided to be a lovebug and help me out.”

“Today,” he grumbles. “Go fake-date Hyunjin then.” Seungmin’s so competitive, especially towards Hyunjin because they’re so close. They even had a competition where the two of them tried to see who could finish a large cup of boba milk tea the fastest.

Plot twist: Jisung won.

“That wasn’t even one of the options!” A smile makes an appearance on your face. “Kim Seungmin, are you jealous? Day one and you’re already this jealous? At this rate, are you going to make me officially yours by the end of this month?” you tease.

“In your wildest dreams, Y/N.” Seungmin laughs breathlessly. He always seems to be in a good mood when he’s with you.

“Whatever. Now, go be a good boyfriend and help me with the boxes in the back.” You exit the car as he pops open his trunk.

You and Seungmin waddle all the way through the elementary school gates and into the playground where a variety of booths with mouth-watering, sugary goods are set up. There are homemade brownies, croissants, donuts, and even macarons—totally not fair because that family owns a bakery. The entire display makes your sugar cookies extremely pale in comparison, but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

Seungmin lays the pink table cloth down, and you begin to place your ribboned goodie bags in vertical rows of five.

“You have better handwriting,” Seungmin tells you and hands you the piece of blue chalk.

“What if we don’t sell?” You begin to carefully etch out the words “one bag for three, two bags for five”. “Because I know I would definitely pick macarons over sugar cookies,” you note.

“Why does it matter? It’s for the school, not for you.” Seungmin states simply. He’s so reasonable that you can’t seem to argue with him, so annoying how he wins almost every argument.

You finish writing out the words on the chalkboard and prop it up with a metal cash box. “Okay Seungmin, time to use your charms to woo some customers,” you say. “Be useful and do a handstand or something.”

Seungmin gives you a “do I fucking look like Felix to you?” look. He merely ignores you and takes a goodie bag in his hands, crouching down so that he’s eye level with a little girl, no more than five years old and with really cute pigtails. “Hello, would you like some sugar cookies? Mister Teddy Bear can have some too,” he says to her.

The little girl takes the bag from his hands, wide-eyed as she pulls the hem of her mom’s shirt. “Can I buy this?” she asks.

The mom instantly approves and hands Seungmin a crisp five dollar bill. Feeling slightly useless, you hand Seungmin another packaged goodie bag. “This one’s for Mister Teddy Bear,” he continues. “Thanks for coming today.” He holds up his hand for a hi-five, which the little girl gladly reciprocates. A light coral coats her soft cheeks—she’s completely smitten for him.

“Easy mode.” Seungmin stands up straight again and brushes the imaginary dust off his hands. He’s waiting for your standing ovation.

“You were just lucky,” you add, handing a few more goodie bags to an elderly couple that had just approached the table. “Do that again, and I’ll be convinced that you’re a total heartthrob.” To be completely honest, you’re a little impressed because you didn’t know Seungmin was that good with kids. It was pretty smooth too when he asked the girl about the teddy bear.

Thirty minutes later, the goodie bags are slowly trickling down until there are only two left; Kim Seungmin is a heartthrob, you admit, because he’s sending off cookies left and right to children who believe that he’s totally cool. When they’re in kindergarten and elementary school, high school seems so far away, so beyond the horizon, so of course, they think it’s very cool to have sleepovers. To play spin the bottle, truth or dare, and seven minutes in heaven. The term “teenage angst” is nothing but two words coined together, and man, you miss those days where you didn’t have a care in the world.

“Thanks for coming!” You hand the last few goodie bags to a family of three and call it a day.

The sky is a somber grey save for the band of lavender purple that hovers above the trees. The clouds above are soothing, blending the heavens with charcoal swirls. Evening approaches, and your stomach signifies that you haven’t eaten since twelve.

Seungmin’s packing up as he raises an eyebrow. “Hungry?” he asks.

“Famished. I could eat a cow. Do you want to grab food?” You shove the metal cash box and tablecloth into the cardboard box.

“I wish. My aunt is cooking tonight, and I’m obligated to be a good nephew and help. I’ll raincheck you on that, Y/N,” he says but sees a pout forming on your lips. “Miss me that much already? Day one and you’re this clingy?”

“In your wildest dreams, Kim Seungmin.”

day two.

You stuff the granola bar into your mouth as you’re waiting on the front steps for Seungmin to come honking in his mom’s Honda Accord. Breakfast is overrated anyway; you’d choose fifteen minutes of extra sleep over a ham and cheese omelet any day.

There’s a slight chill in the air, and you pace around the front porch to keep warm. It’s supposed to be spring, but global warming does some weird shit to the climate. Maybe you should go inside and change into a thicker hoodie.

Just then, Seungmin drives up, and you crumple the granola wrapper and slip it in the water compartment of your backpack. You watch him roll down his windows, pretending to look cooler than he actually is in a mom car. Someone really needs to buy him a sexy black Audi soon.

“Good morning,” you huff tiredly.

“Don’t I get a complimentary breakfast for driving you to school?” Seungmin mentions as soon as you enter his car.

“No, do I look like I run IHOP? Driving me to school is on the contract. Plus, it’s a bonus for you because you get to persuade your mom to use the car and not ride with Hyunjin,” you say a matter-of-factly. He complains way too much about Hyunjin being late to class, and now, he has the perfect excuse.

“Gee, someone woke up cranky.”

Seungmin turns on the radio and old middle school jams come on, and he drives through the neighborhood with Katy Perry in the background. They’re the best, you think, Cardi B could never. At last you ask, “How are we going to pull it off at school? You think anyone is going to notice? You’re like completely transparent when you’re uncomfortable, did you know that?”

“Wing it?” Seungmin questions, more toward himself actually. Part of the reason why he picked you was that he was comfortable enough with you. He’s praying that it doesn’t look too unnatural that the rest of his friends see through his lie. “I am not completely unnatural,” he defends.

“Yeah, right. Remember last year’s prom? When the pretty senior girl asked you? ‘Um, I have a physics test tomorrow. I’m at a borderline B.’ I’m fucking livid.” You laugh aloud, clutching to your sides.

Seungmin grips the sides of the steering wheel tightly. “It was going to be so awkward if I went with her. Her friends and I weren’t even close. Heck, I wasn’t even close to her. I was a junior, and I’m not about to do prom twice,” he explains.

“What a heart breaker. So you’re going to prom this year?” you ask, sneaking a peek at him as he’s driving. Seungmin’s cute in his gray Thrasher hoodie.

He cracks up, probably because he thinks that he’s nowhere near the title of “heart breaker”. Felix is the heart breaker, not him. “Isn’t it a part of the high school experience? I think I’d have to go.”

“Does this mean that you’re automatically buying my ticket to prom?”

“So you want me to ask you to prom?”

“I don’t know. Surprise me.”

Three more lights till you reach the school, and you begin to fidget nervously on the hems of your sleeves. Before you know it, Seungmin parks near the oak tree in front of the west entrance and turns off the engine. He looks over in your direction. “You ready?”

Your response is a long sigh before getting out of the car. How in the world are you going to hide it from close friends like Hyunjin and Jisung? They’re going to see right through it. Plus, his aunt isn’t even on campus. Maybe Seungmin should have rethought his plan… then again, his aunt is awfully social for a middle-aged woman.

Jisung’s walking towards the both of you as he takes leisure steps, and you’re lucky enough to spot him in your peripheral vision.

“Hold my hand, Kim Seungmin!” you gasp, lacing your fingers through his. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to hold a boy’s hand in a non-platonic setting (this being a very peculiar definition of “non-platonic”), but it’s not terribly bad. Seungmin’s hands are large enough to completely envelop yours, and you like that.

Seungmin is startled when he feels your cold fingers wrap around his, and then he sees Jisung’s approaching figure. He internally panics and wraps his fingers firmly around yours for additional reassurance.

“Hey, what’s up–” Jisung’s staring at your interlocked hands with wide eyes. “How–um… is this a dream? Did I even fucking wake up to go to school? Lord… please don’t tell me this is real. Is this real, Y/N?” he asks you. Your friend’s face is slightly suggestive and very in disbelief; you almost feel bad for lying to Jisung.

“Yeah, it’s real,” you say firmly and leave it at that.

“When did this happen? Overnight? Because it sure seems like that,” Jisung claims, gaze faltering between you and then Seungmin.

Seungmin brushes it off like a professional bluffer, totally natural, unlike last year’s prom incident. “We’ve been talking for a while, and then I confessed. It’s really simple actually,” he begins. “And I’m sure you guys have seen it coming.”

Jisung makes a face and lets out a loud “pft”. “No shit. It’s about time. I just didn’t think it’d be this soon. Man, I honestly thought you were going to do some extravagant promposal thing to ask Y/N out, but I guess even a star pupil like me can be wrong sometimes,” he reveals.

What? What did he mean when he said that everyone has seen it coming? Has Seungmin been plotting this for a while now? This was not on the contract agreement.

“Whatever, Han. I’ll see you during third period. I still have to go to my locker.” Seungmin sticks your interlocked hands into the pocket of his gray hoodie and pulls you towards the side entrance.

“I’m telling Hyunjin!” Jisung bellows as he points an accusing finger in your direction. Then, he holds onto the straps of his backpack and runs to first period on the other side of the building where the teacher is highly adamant about attendance.

Your face morphs to one of disapproval, and you pause on your way up the front steps. “What do you mean you guys have seen it coming? Am I being used for ulterior motives? Because, if so, I will not hesitate to kick your ass–”

“–relax,” Seungmin interrupts. “I made that up because we’re close enough for the other guys to think that I like you. Who knew Jisung would buy my lie that well.”

“Oh,” you mutter, feeling instantly relieved like a boulder has been lifted off your chest. “Are you going to walk me to my locker like all the cute high school movies now?” You’ve always dreamed of having a guy walk you to your locker and then parting ways with a small hug.

He just laughs and leads you to the direction of his locker. “No. You’re walking me to my locker because your locker is located in the most desolate part of the hall where all the nerds associate,” he insists.

Like always, Seungmin is such a killjoy.

“Shut up, Kim Seungmin. Like you’re not a nerd. ‘I have a borderline B, boohoo, I can’t go to prom with you’,” you taunt, mocking his voice in a very terrible and inaccurate manner. “And why do we have to make this relationship so known? Can’t we make it more discreet?”

“At least I’m not the type of nerd that complains with a 96% in Calculus.” He really hates it when people complain about grades that are already good; it’s like intentional boasting. Do you know how many people would kill for an A in Calculus? “Plus, it’s a small town. News travels fast, and so does my aunt because she’s nosy and wants me to get with someone already,” Seungmin says and starts inputting his locker combination. The school has the crustiest lockers any student could think of, and he ends up having to input his combination for a second time before the lock pops open.

“Hurry up. I’m going to be late for class because of you.” You tug on his hand before he lets go to grab his textbooks and notebooks.

Seungmin takes his sweet ass time because he’s memorized your schedule the night before. “What do you mean? Your class is literally right behind my locker, stupid,” he chuckles. A smile grows on his cheeks when several of his classmates overhear the ongoing conversation. He whispers, “I think they’re buying it.”

“Really?” you whisper back. This is so much fun, snooping around like you’re on a clandestine mission. Like you’re pretending to be a hot couple while stealing diamonds from Seo Changbin’s evil, rich aunt’s mansion.

“Yeah,” Seungmin lets out. “Now, give me a hug.”

It’s the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae, so you’re obligated to give him a hug. “Don’t miss this too much, Seungmin. You might fall for me,” you mumble in his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He smells like fresh linen right out of the dryer: warm, soft, and cozy.

“I don’t know, Y/N. It seems as though you’re falling for me,” he teases. Seungmin rests his chin on the crook of your neck, arms pulling you into a full embrace, and he stays there until the bell rings obnoxiously at 7:41 AM.

But the scary part is, he’s not entirely wrong.

day five.

Sitting at Seungmin’s leather couch, you feel like you’re living life through his shoes. Granted, you’ve been to Seungmin’s house a few times for projects over the years, but you’ve never really taken a good look at it.

You’ve always recognized his house as the chic one on top of the hill, the one that stands out from the rest of the short, condo-like homes with its geometrically perfect glass windows and dark tints. It’s very boxy compared to the traditional homes in the neighborhood, so when you first found out that he lived in that house, you thought he’d be the expensive type of guy. However, never judge a book by its cover, and Seungmin is actually pretty normal and nowhere near as expensive compared to Felix.

The inside exemplifies him more, in your opinion. There’s a obligatory glass case for all of his academic trophies, pictures of Seungmin and his sister (who is attending college out-of-state) hanging on the walls in matching wooden frames, and a massive bookshelf hinged onto the side of his wall. It reminds you too much of the Twilight movie; you try your very best not to snicker.

It turns out that Seungmin’s mom has made an array of traditional Korean food ranging from lettuce wraps, to spicy rice cakes, to kimchi stew—you don’t even have to worry about your sub-par chopstick skills that much. You watch from the living room as Seungmin helps his parents set up the lettuce wrap filling on the breakfast bar they’re remodeling as a buffet assembly line. There are a bunch of meats, pickled veggies, small fish, and rice paper. Is this what food heaven looks like?

“Come and sit, Y/N. Don’t act like a stranger! You’ve been here several times before.” Seungmin’s mom brings you to the table and seats you beside Seungmin’s chair. She’s so kind. You sort of see Seungmin in her when she offers you a soft smile.

Seungmin brings you a plate and sets it down in front. You whisper a quick “thanks” before shifting your gaze to everyone that has gathered around the dining table, especially his notorious aunt sitting directly across from you. You already know that she’s dying to hear your “love” story with her one and only nephew.

“How did you two meet?” she asks. Oh, so she’s the type to dive right into the situation like an in-person interview. You like her.

“We met in middle school, and we were friends up until now,” you answer, smiling amicably. To your left, you see Seungmin widen his eyes slightly; he’s nervous, you can tell, and he tries to mask the nervousness by scooping a bunch of rice cakes onto your plate.

“How come you’ve never mentioned Y/N? That way I wouldn’t have pestered you about my client’s smart daughter,” his aunt says rather apologetically. Well, at least she’s civil about it. You don’t really see the appeal of dating someone just because they attend a prestigious school. She could be a total creep for all you know.

Quickly, Seungmin supplies, “It was a very recent thing. I didn’t want to pressure Y/N and define the relationship so soon when both of us weren’t ready yet. Relationship or not, I think we’re pretty much the same to each other regardless.” He twirls the glass noodles between his chopsticks and devours them; he’s ravenous after prepping for dinner since four in the evening.

“I have to confess. I saw it coming. I knew the two of you were close since the day you came over to work on that physics project and ended up almost having to sleep over,” Mrs. Kim says with a bright smile and spoons rice into your bowl.

“Thank you,” you say to her. “Really? That was almost a year ago?”

“Is that so? So it’s physics, but there’s chemistry,” Seungmin’s aunt comments, making an overused but harmless pun in the dining room. You giggle despite the fact that it’s not that funny, but she sure does know how the lighten the atmosphere.

Seungmin leans over and whispers in your ear. “Help me, the rice cakes are too spicy,” he tells you. He’s so weak when it comes to anything spicy. One time, Chan made this shitty kimchi stew with too many red pepper flakes for Woojin’s birthday party and Seungmin nearly hyperventilated.

With a dejected shake of your head, you begin to pick the rice cakes off his plate one by one; you’re not terribly good at spicy food, but Seungmin’s tolerance is borderline nonexistent. “Toughen up, Min,” you laugh.

The eventful dinner consists of the entire Kim family gushing over how good of a match the two of you make, and it almost saddens you how this is all just play-pretend. In fact, you and Seungmin are a pair of professional actors even when he waits with you for your ride to come. Woojin’s making the best of his stay here and doing his last grocery shopping errand before heading back to his university dorm, and he had promised to be a good brother and pick you up today. But like always, he seems to be late to everything because he’s so tragically last-minute.

“How’s dinner?” Seungmin prods, sitting beside you on his front porch. The sky is low and dark, but he quite likes the effect that the glowing moon gives off in the starless night.

“Amazing,” you grin. “And your aunt’s pretty cool despite all the negative things you’ve said about her.” She has this very unique, extroverted personality. You can see how she would have a profound effect on an introverted person like Seungmin.

“I mean, I love her because she’s family. But sometimes, it just gets a little overwhelming when she begins to get carried away with the matchmaking. There are just better things to worry about in life than to meddle with the love life of a high school kid,” Seungmin says it a matter-of-factly with a shrug of his shoulders. Plus, he’s still waiting on attending her third wedding with Rich Uncle Number Four. Then he mentions, “Good job today.”

You look over at him with expectant eyes. “Wow, a compliment coming from Kim Seungmin himself. I am beyond honored.”

“Why do you always call me by my full name? Hyunjin usually calls me Seungmin, or Min, or even Minnie when he decides to be extra cheesy and gross,” he wonders. Not that he’s complaining or anything; he has no vendetta against his full name.

“I just like the sound of your name.” Suddenly you say, “You know why? It’s because it gives off a more profound, dramatic effect to everything. Like I’m a substitute teacher and taking roll and I go ‘Kim Seungmin!’. It puts the power in your hands. I like that.”

“You are so weird, Y/N.”

You’re smiling at him now. “I think I see your aunt checking up on us through the window,” you point out, and Seungmin quickly throws his arm around your shoulder, tucking you flush against his side. You make an uncomfortable face when your ribs collide against his. “Totally smooth, Seungmin. This is how you get all the girls.”

“You know, you talk a lot for someone who calls themselves an introvert,” he replies, tilting his head so that he stares right down at you in his arms.

The eye contact sends little shivers up your spine despite the body heat radiating off him. It’s like the little tingles you get when you pop a Sour Patch into your mouth; foreign at first but it turns out to be the best thing ever. “Introverts like company sometimes. We’re not holed-up hermit crabs who stay in their rooms all day and indulge in chips and chocolate… we only do that half the time,” you divulge.

His beige sweater tickles your nose. When your finger reaches up to scratch the itchy spot, the two of you share a moment where he’s just beginning to lean in ever so slightly, and you’re beginning to inch up a few millimeters per second. Before your mind could even process what this all even means, your brother’s car comes honking in front of the driveway, the headlights shining in your faces.

Woojin’s so inconsiderate, and you quickly press an impromptu kiss on Seungmin’s cheek.

“Bye. I’ll see you at school,” you say and dart off towards your brother’s car. The last thing you remembered was how close Seungmin was and how much you wanted to kiss his cheek—then your lips collided with his cheek. The only problem was, your brain didn’t even give consent!

“Wait!” Seungmin calls out. “You forgot your phone!”

And you race back to get your phone with flaming cheeks.

day nineteen.

Hyunjin sticks his hand into the bowl of potato chips and grabs a handful before lounging back on the armchair. His long limbs are draped over it like he’s Hades and it’s his throne. Jisung lays before him like Cerberus, the three-headed guard dog, but instead, he has ice cream slathered all over his face instead of the remnants of human sins. Felix accompanies Jisung on the floor of your living room because he’d rather not be on the couch with you and Seungmin.

“Seriously, Hyunjin? This drama again? Don’t you ever get sick of it and want to watch something with action?” Jisung whines loudly, throwing his head back on the carpet. He’s so lucky that you vacuumed beforehand.

“Shut up! I’m lonely, and I want to watch something cute,” he defends. Then he throws a glare in your direction. “My best friend is snuggling up with my other best friend. A tragedy… for me.”

You roll your eyes and lean back on Seungmin’s chest, scrolling through your phone with a bored expression. Hyunjin doesn’t faze you much; he’s a drama major, and all drama majors have a certain edge to them that makes you think “wow”, but sometimes, it makes you think “just go kiss a statue”. Right now, it’s the latter because Hyunjin’s so dramatic, and you’ve watched this drama at least two times already. Netflix really does need a better variety.

“Are you just perpetually selfish and not thinking of others?” Felix taunts his friend. “Let’s watch the Avengers.”

“I second that,” Seungmin says, and you feel the vibrations of his voice humming through his chest.

Cuddling with Seungmin has become so natural over the two weeks where no one questions it anymore. Everyone was skeptical at first because your relationship with him was practically an overnight thing, but seeing is believing, and the two of you are deemed the most casual couple on campus. Seungmin has his arm on your waist when you ask, “Are we meeting up on Friday this week?”

“Don’t we always?” he questions, glancing down at you as he fixes the loose strands of hair framing your face.

He really needs to stop doing that because it makes you very confused. “Well, not this week. Because I have a party to attend,” you tell him. This time, you’re the one rainchecking him.

“Woah, woah. A party. Are there drugs involved? Drinks? Weed?” Seungmin has his arms and legs around you protectively as if he’s trying to shield you; he reminds you of a very clingy octopus or a very clingy Squidward. You decide that it’s cute.

“What are you? My mother?” you giggle. “No. There’s no drugs or weed involved as far as I know. She’s a childhood friend, and our parents are really close. I doubt they’d let her doing anything less than appropriate.”

Jennie is the type of friend you can go months without talking to, and when you reconnect, it’s like nothing has changed. Sometimes things just get busy (with her it’s college and with you it’s trying to get into college), but when the two of you do meet up, it’s like you didn’t even miss a beat; you talk like there isn’t a physical time gap between the both of you and laugh until your cheeks start hurting. It’s such a rare and priceless relationship that no one could ever replace.

Nonetheless, her parties do get a little wild at times.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” Seungmin reminds you, and your heart skips a beat at his sudden acknowledgment. You hear the rest of the boys groaning like they’re watching a terrible rom-com. “Kombucha only.”

“Kombucha is disgusting, Seungmin. It’s like you’re drinking soda with vinegar. Why would you take something so pleasant and mix it with something so not-pleasant?”

“The term is ‘revolting’, you uneducated swine,” Hyunjin butts in like the smart-ass he is. The boy picks up his order of winter melon milk tea and takes a loud sip before placing it back down on the carpet. There’s a pool of water surrounding the cup because the ice condenses and drips, and you’re wondering to yourself why Hyunjin didn’t bother to use a coaster. In conclusion, you really need better friends.

You roll your eyes. “Either way. I won’t be drinking on a Friday night. I have to go volunteering on Saturday mornings,” you explain.

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes! If you’re at a party, you’re supposed to let loose and have fun,” Felix says aloud, rolling on the carpet as he turns to face you. He props his feet on your side of the couch, and you immediately scoot closer to Seungmin.

“That’s easy for you to say. You let loose and have fun even when there’s a final the next day.”

“But I still get decent grades.” Felix rolls on top of Jisung and lays there, earning a grunt from the boy beneath him.

Jisung smacks his palm on the floor repeatedly. “Get off me, bro. Did you gain weight?” he jokes but immediately shuts up when Felix presses the rest of his weight on him. He saying fuck gravity in capital letters.

Felix lifts his eyebrows like Jisung has dared him. “Are you calling me fat, Han? Because I will murder you, and tell everybody here who you have a crush on.” Felix Lee plays dirty and spills the tea on everyone, and this is why you never tell him secrets.

“Now you have to tell us,” you say, lining up gummy bears on Seungmin’s outstretched palm. Your favorites are the strawberry and pineapple ones; the rest are pretty mediocre, but you’d still eat them anyway. “Is it the girl from Calc?”

“No, shut up!” Jisung flips over and starts to wrestle Felix on the carpet. You feel like you’re babysitting them, and their hypothetical parents pay you way too little for the task at hand. Boys are so annoying, you think.

As annoying as they may be, they’re a part of your squad, your group of unruly, geeky, chaotic high school friends. It’s not easy for you to lie to them about dating Seungmin, and it’s definitely not easy for him either. You can see it in his features, the uneasiness that comes every single time they ask about how you got together with him, even when it’s just habitual teasing. And you feel it too, the way his hands get a little too hot when he holds yours.

Likewise, you mentally freak out whenever someone asks about him. There’s always this little voice in your mind that constantly reminds you that this is all just a ploy, an act to prevent his aunt from meddling with his life. But sometimes, you allow yourself to ignore it and just enjoy being in his arms—a very carpe diem type of situation.

Fake dating is similar to living on the edge; you’re safe for the most part, but once you start to fall, there’s no coming back.

That’s exactly how you feel right now.

day twenty-five.

People change when they go to college—cliche sayings are cliche for a reason.

Jennie’s parents are conveniently out of town on their daughter’s birthday, and there’s a guy with his head stuck in a punch bowl filled with jungle juice. A few drunk guests accidentally shove you by the shoulder, but Jennie quickly pulls you away before your shirt gets doused by beer.

“Woah, there. Watch it!” She tells them, and she gets several eye rolls in response. “Sorry, Y/N. I invited some of the girls in the building. Who knew they’d bring guests over? It’s quite annoying, actually.” Jennie’s dreading the cleanup duty, but at least she has a whole day to clean before her parents fly back.

Okay, maybe she hasn’t entirely changed.

“How’s your birthday so far?” You laugh, finally spotting two empty seats on her couch. Everyone’s filing outdoors for a spicy session of beer pong on her dad’s old pool table.

“It’s whatever. Twenty one feels like twenty which feels like nineteen which feels like eighteen, except you get the satisfaction of proving the cashier wrong when you get carded for alcoholic drinks,” she starts and makes a face. Boy, the twenties are really here. “But enough about me. So who’s this cute boy I’ve been seeing on your Snapchat?”

“You know, we’re friends… who happen to be dating. It’s not much, really. How much can you even do in high school?” You make it sound really casual and nonchalant because there’s not much you can say about fake dating besides the fact that it’s fake.

Jennie winks at you. “Oh, you can do so much in high school. I remember when I snuck a boy in my room once and–”

“I don’t need to know this,” you exclaim, covering your ears and shaking your head obnoxiously. Now would really be a great time for the DJ to turn it up.

Rolling her eyes, your friend grabs your arms and pull your hands away from your ears. “So long story short, cherish high school while you can. College is a whole fucking mess on its own. And tuition… that’s on another level because what do you mean I have to pay out of pocket when my loans are over?” Jennie complains. “Besides, you’re not going to find someone as cute as him in college. Guaranteed.”

Jennie’s over here giving you some solid life advice, and you feel exceptionally bad for lying to her about Seungmin. “Jen, I–”

“No no no, they’re going up to my parent’s room. Oh my God. They are not doing it in the master bedroom,” she rambles absentmindedly as her eyes fixate across the room. Jennie races upstairs after the couple and makes sure to have all the doors to the rooms locked.

You deduce that college students are gross and divert your attention to your phone instead. The time reads 10:00 PM, and that’s a pretty good time to call it a night, considering that half the guests are either drunk or going to be drunk.

Then, Seungmin sends you a text.

minnie (10:01 PM): kombucha only!

y/n (10:02 PM): they don’t even have that, i told you it was rancid

minnie (10:02 PM): i’m insulted

minnie (10:02 PM): lol how’s the party?

y/n (10:02 PM): drunk, inappropriate young adults running wild

minnie (10:03 PM): that bad?

y/n (10:03 PM): jen’s barely even having fun because she’s trying to keep a horny couple away from her parents’ bedroom

minnie (10:03 PM): oh my god

minnie (10:03 PM): get out of there

y/n (10:04 PM): ugh, my dad doesn’t come for another hour

minnie (10:04 PM): i’m starting the car

y/n (10:04 PM): have i ever told you that i love you?

minnie (10:06 PM): every day ;)

Jennie comes back downstairs and lets out a tired sigh. “I don’t blame you if you want to leave. I would leave too if only this weren’t my house. Next year, I’m having a tea party with just you and a few friends. I’m over the partying scene,” she says, leaning her head on the couch.

Never mind, she’s still the same old Jen.

“Tea parties and pastries. I’d like that more than beer... and vodka, “ you tell her. “Seungmin’s also furious how you don’t have kombucha.”

“Ugh, your boyfriend’s a geek. Who drinks kombucha when you can have rosé? He needs to learn the true delicacies of the world, but he still has room for improvement,” Jennie advises.

“I tell him that too. But you know, he’s weird like that,” you say with a smile.

Jennie nudges you in the waist with a smirk. “I think you really like this Seungmin guy. I’ve never seen you this happy over any date before. He’s a keeper, right?”

During times like this, it really sucks to be fake dating. Because how are you going to answer her? “Yeah, he’s great.” “No, we’re not really together.” Both are such terrible answers. And the fact that your closest friend tells you that you're significantly happier with Seungmin—it just saddens you more because it’s not real. But what saddens you most is that you might actually be falling for Kim Seungmin even when rule number one explicitly states otherwise.

Uncertainty creeps across your face like lurking shadows, but thankfully, Jennie leaves your side to deal with the beer pong situation outdoors because her dad’s old pool table is completely flipped over. That’s the last straw; she’s already escorting the guests out as she’s on her way to crash the uninvited pool party outdoors.

“By the way, I think your boyfriend’s outside!” she yells, pointing towards the front door. Then, Jennie hears a loud crash from the kitchen and groans loudly. “Bobby, you’re paying for that shit!” The boy cowers in fear and helps her pick up the scattered set of porcelain bowls.

You figure that’s your cue to go.

day twenty-five (2).

After Jennie’s party, you decide that college parties aren’t your thing. You’d feel much more comfortable at home, with a book, nursing a cup of milk tea in your hands. It’s a little funny how Seungmin is a homebody just like you, and tonight, he has his head on your lap as he’s facing the TV.

“Your cat’s fat tail is blocking the TV. Can you tell him to move?” Seungmin snaps.

“Move. Truffles, move,” you say lethargically with a little wave of your hand. Your oversized cat simply gives a little twirl and sits right in the middle of the television screen like it’s his throne; you and Seungmin are his peasants.

“Yeah, that’s so convincing.” Seungmin rolls over onto his back and stares up at you. “Hey, you have a double chin.”

“Shut up. Why are you staring at my double chin?”

He narrows his eyes. “Because your cat is blocking Tom Hanks. Actually, I think it may be a triple chin,” he mentions, a hand reaching up.

You quickly swat his hand away. “You’ll never get with anyone if you mention double and triple chins,” you claim indignantly. You’re playing with the drawstring of his hoodie, letting the string twist around your finger before allowing it to unfurl like a piece of ribbon.

“If all goes wrong, I have you,” Seungmin states calmly.

This is reminding you of this one film where two friends vow to get married by thirty if they were both still single, such déjà vu. But this is reality, not a scripted film or some scene straight out of a book. “Do you really have me?” you question him.

“For now, I do. Can’t say the same about the future though.” A discreet frown graces his features. Seungmin doesn’t like discussing the future because it’s so ambiguous, so up in the air; he doesn’t even know where he’s attending college. “I can’t believe a month just flew by,” he announces.

Again, think carpe diem, you remind yourself.

“Whatever happens, we’re still going to be friends, right?” It feels like it’s more of a question towards yourself than towards him like you’re asking for reassurance on your side of the equation. Boyfriend Seungmin is going to be just Seungmin in a few days when his aunt leaves, and you’re not quite sure how you’re going to deal with that transition. You’re so accustomed to Boyfriend Seungmin that you’re kicking yourself for allowing this to happen. Guess you really did let your guard down.

“No, we’re going to be enemies,” he jokes on a more lighthearted note. Seungmin doesn’t want to talk about fake dating right now, not when he has his head comfortably on your lap like he’s meant to be there the entire time.

“Enemies to lovers?” you add slyly. “I didn’t know you were that type of guy, Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin sighs and stares up at you. “Why did I choose to date you? I could have chosen Hyunjin or something.” He says that an awful lot, but in all honesty, Hyunjin’s too high maintenance about his skin, his vitamins, his body, etc. It drives Seungmin insane.

You laugh, laying your palm flat on his chest. “Because I’m funny, charming, sweet, kind, and can make one cookie recipe,” you tell him, and you’re running out of good things to convince him.

“Funny? You don’t see me going around dating clowns,” he teases, earning him a hard smack on the chest. Seungmin grunts and sits up from his position on your lap. “What? Am I wrong? Also, those cookies… better learn how to turn on the stove first, you novice.”

“I am not a novice! I can make a bomb ramen and fruit salad if I wanted to,” you defend. You’d make the best damn ramen in the entire world if you wanted to, with an egg and seaweed and everything. “And this coming from you? You can only make pancakes and eggs.”

“That’s breakfast right there. I could make you breakfast in bed if I wanted to,” Seungmin notes. As if he’s challenging you, he begins to lean closer.

Seungmin’s really good at debates, and you find your mind drawing a blank because breakfast in bed is mildly better than ramen with a side of fruit salad. Plus, it’s kind of more romantic too. However, right as you’re about to retort with some weak, impromptu comment about the downsides of having breakfast in bed, you notice him inching closer. Your heart rate escalates to the point where you hear it pounding noisily in your ears, louder than your cat’s claws on the polished floors, louder than Tom Hanks escaping an explosion in the background. Soon after, you begin to lean forward as well.

It’s so sudden, and it makes you sit frozen for a second, your one brain cell struggling to process between reality or if you’re just in one of your wildest dreams. You’re kissing Seungmin, not to mention your first kiss ever, and it’s not terribly bad like all first kisses should be. It’s one of those playground kisses, soft and sweet, and it leaves you giddy with excitement. You close your eyes and begin to respond to the kiss; his lips are warm and taste vaguely of the strawberry milk he had earlier.

The world falls away in a trance when his hand moves to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingle. There are no fireworks, no tingles of electricity, no sparks flying, but there’s a wave of warmth that engulfs you like an embrace—that’s so much better, in your opinion.

Then, a realization hits you, and you picture a fat red marker crossing out rule number one.

day thirty.

“When you go to college with a significant other, you will only want to spend time with that person. You forget about everything else, and you don’t go through the college experience because you’re so caught up with that one person. You’re constantly wondering what they’re doing and if they’re having fun… and when you break up, you lose all your friends because they can’t bear to sit through the awkwardness every time you two see each other,” you tell Seungmin dramatically. “Is that a valid breakup excuse?”

Seungmin rolls over on your bed and begins to pick cat fur off his black jeans. Ugh, it’s shedding season, except your cat sheds all four seasons.

“No. First of all, we will most likely be attending the same college. Second, have you seen our friend group? They don’t even understand what personal space means. There’s no such thing as awkwardness,” he states. Jisung and Felix can’t really keep their hands off each other, talk about clingy.

“How are we going to break up then? Your aunt just left to the airport,” you ask as you lay beside him. That’s a really good question because you’re not really sure if you want to break up with Seungmin. Especially after the kiss—was kissing even allowed in the contract? The two of you should have really sat down and written it down beforehand.

“I don’t know. We just have to do it,” Seungmin says softly. He doesn’t want to keep lying to his friends anymore.

His response tugs on your heartstrings. Did he really not feel anything after the kiss? You’re sort of dumbfounded, almost like you’ve been cheated on. “Just tell everyone that we’re incompatible then,” you snap harshly. “And we’ve decided to be friends again.” Frankly, you don’t know how well that’s going to play out because it’s pathetic to have feelings for a friend.

Seungmin sits up as a wall of hostility forms between the two of you. He lets out a hefty sigh before speaking again. “So… friends, right?” he asks gently.

You’re facing away from him as you sit up and answer, “Yeah, friends. Like the old times.” This isn’t even a real break up, but it feels worse than one because nothing was ever real to begin with.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he says, a hand on your shoulder.

Crossing your arms coldly, you feel tears beginning to sting your eyes; your nose is stuffy as you try to hold the tears back. There’s no justification for crying, you tell yourself, Seungmin doesn’t even see you as anything more than just a friend. In addition, it’s not like he played with your feelings or anything. It’s your fault for violating rule number one of the contract.

It’s you who made yourself vulnerable to him.

“You’re welcome,” you reply hesitantly. Your head’s getting tired of overthinking and trying to prevent yourself from bursting into tears of frustration. “I guess I’ll see you in class then?”

“Do you still need a ride to school? I can still give you rides regardless. The car’s pretty much mine now,” Seungmin adds. Many things can change in a month.

“No, I’m okay. My parents can drop me off before work like they usually do. There’s no need to inconvenience you.”

Seungmin gives you a small nod. “Okay, I’ll see you in class then.”

The atmosphere is bittersweet as you’re waiting for him to leave your room and head to his car in the driveway. It’s like a forbidden love; forbidden in the sense that no matter how much you want to be with him, you can’t because the attraction is one sided.

Even Romeo and Juliet have it better at this rate.

You plant your face in a nearby pillow and take deep breaths to calm down, blinking hard so all the welled up tears transfer onto the pillowcase instead of your cheeks.

How could you not fall for Kim Seungmin? He’s the epitome of boyfriend material. Seungmin’s not nice—because nice basically means bland, mundane, boring, and other synonyms for bland, mundane, and boring. “Nice” is how you would compliment Jisung’s new shoes if he’s fishing heavily for a compliment, and the shoes cost over three hundred. Seungmin is so not nice, never belittle someone like that. He’s thoughtful in the most subtle of ways, interesting to talk to, caring even if he’s a little shy about it—he’s totally a Virgo. At the same time, he’s practical enough to prevent you from making stupid decisions, not afraid to voice his own opinions, and he drives a car. That’s always a bonus.

You wonder how you’re ever going to find another guy like Seungmin when you phone vibrates somewhere underneath you. Clearing your throat and your sinuses, you swipe up and answer the call from Hyunjin.

“Hi,” he says. “How are you?”

“What do you want?” you demand. Hyunjin never calls to ask about how you are because he sees you practically every day; he only calls when he needs a favor. Or when he’s tragically bored.

“You’re so mean,” Hyunjin whines. “Um… so… if I threw a rock at your window, would it break?” You hear rustling and whispering noises on the other end of the line like he’s rummaging through the bushes for a rock.

You sit up from your reclined position. “What? Of course, it’ll break! Don’t throw rocks at my window! What is wrong with you?” You stand up and make your way towards your window, peeking cautiously to see if Hyunjin was really going to toss rocks through it. What is up with him today? He’s normally weird but never like this.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim as soon as you see the commotion outside.

Jisung and Felix are holding a prom poster that reads “rules are meant to be broken anyway, prom with me?” in front of your driveway, laid out on the front windshield of Seungmin’s car. Of course, he would come up with a lame quote like that… he didn’t even put in the extra effort to make it rhyme.

Hyunjin hangs up, slips the phone in his back pocket, and yells, “I’m going to throw a rock through your window if you don’t come out!”

Several more repetitions of “oh my god” run through your head before you manage to make your way to the front door, and your heartbeat quickens when you see Seungmin standing directly in front of you. He’s holding a bouquet of assorted flowers and has a hand in his leather jacket; you can tell that he’s nervous because his feet are shuffling methodically.

Airily, he says, “Surprise, Y/N.”

It takes you a whole three seconds the process everything. The promposal quote, the entire breakup scene, the set up in your driveway—Kim Seungmin played you.

“We broke up. Why are you still asking me to prom?” you accuse, a pout forming on your lips. Stupid Hyunjin is holding stupid balloons for Stupid Seungmin, but you have a strong urge to pop them with needles—that’s how irritated you are now.

“Because it’s real this time,” Seungmin confides, and he sees your angry expression fade to a more relaxed one. “Plus, you told me to surprise you.” He takes a few steps forward until he’s eye level with you.

You’re standing on your porch, a step above the pavement, and that gives you a significant height boost. “I really hate you, Kim Seungmin,” you tell him. Looking back, your mental breakdown montage as you assay the components of forbidden love, you realize that you’re such a dramatic person.

“No, you don’t,” Seungmin corrects with an innocent smile, one that spreads from ear to ear.

Jisung upbraids, “Can you just agree to go to prom with Seungmin and flirt later? I feel like my arms are about to fall off.”

Chuckling, you answer with a quick yes before you wrap your arms around Seungmin’s shoulders, your head resting on the crook of his neck. Behind him, Jisung and Felix groan loudly and let the poster coil back into a roll, and Hyunjin’s cheering like he’s just won the Olympics on your front lawn. A smile grows on your face when you feel Seungmin reciprocating the hug with the bouquet of flowers tickling the nape of your neck.

“Since when did you plan this?” you whisper in his ear.

Seungmin nestles his face in your hair. “Since your friend Jennie was kind enough to make the poster.”

“Does everyone know that we were fake dating? Or is that just all in the past now?” you ask. Seungmin’s embrace is very comfortable, and you stay in his arms for longer than a normal hug. It’s just prom, but you’re making it seem as if he’s going off to war.

Felix holds his hand up to block the sunlight pelting down on his face. “Can we take an obligatory promposal picture and get it over with? It’s hot.”

Seungmin shrugs in response to your question, and you finally pull away. “I don’t think it really matters at this point,” he says.

His response cannot be more accurate.

Fake dating does have its perks because it naturally sets the atmosphere under the notion that you are dating, but not really. But like every coming-of-age chick flick, the protagonist always ends up falling for the other person. It’s almost impossible not to violate rule number one because if you live a lie for long enough, you become the living lie. Except, it works differently with feelings because your love for Seungmin is as real as it can get.

“Do you like me, Kim Seungmin?” you decide to ask him one final time.

“I like you.” His eyes hold yours, and you feel a flutter that starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads its way through your entire body like wildfire. Seungmin says it without a trace of a stutter—that’s how you know that it’s real.

And the best part about it is, you don’t have to scream at him to hold your hand anymore.

2K notes · View notes