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moluvies · 1 month ago

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in your orbit ꔛ armin arlert x reader

a/n: made the banner in 2 seconds on picsart myb 🫡👍 i usually dont fw the modern/college au for aot but nerdmin has so much potential :3 read part two here !!

words: 5.9k

cw: nerd!armin, college au, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, somewhat inexperienced armin #idk, armin is actually a nice person in this au, frat boy eren makes an appearance (obvi), armin gets drunk, reader gets drunk, SMUT!!, so drunk sex, mutual attraction, blowjobs, p in v sex, doggystyle, dirty talk, he whines and whimpers 😦‼️, MDNI !!

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The rec center was lively, as it usually was this time of day. You checked your phone to look at the time—3:56 P.M. Would it be weird to go in 4 minutes early? You wondered to yourself, anxiety getting the best of you. Especially when you couldn't hear even the smallest sound come from the small study room, though you told yourself maybe it was a soundproof design.

Armin Arlert, one of your classmates and now a member of the group project you had been assigned, was the one to set this meeting up. The group project from your astronomy class was a semester-long task, given to you during syllabus week and not to be turned in until finals. Half of the semester had passed and you hadn't even really met the rest of your group members—aside from Armin.

The two of you hadn't really talked, though. You followed each other on Instagram now and you sat at the same table as him in class (along with a few other people you didn't really know). Aside from that, the guy was practically a stranger to you. But you couldn't deny how you admired him. He always raised his hand in class, never sounding too full of himself or annoying like other people typically sounded to you in lecture. He was also helpful if you ever had a question, especially because you hated going to office hours with professors you hardly knew.

Armin had texted the group chat he made with all the group members a week ago asking if everyone had availability that Friday. A couple people said yes while others just put a thumbs up emoji to react to his message. He didn't mind if they didn't show to the first meeting, really. It was individually graded and if they didn't have availability to meet Friday they could have said so.

You took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you knocked once and then entered the tiny study room. It contained one table with 6 chairs around it, a TV you could connect your laptop to, and a trash can off in the corner.

And it also contained only one person—Armin.

"Hey," you greeted with a smile, shutting the door behind you and seating yourself down in a chair across from him.

"Hi, you made it," Armin smiled, looking up from his laptop as you entered. "I was just setting things up so we all have access to the slides, just in case anyone wants to make changes."

You nodded, putting your bag on the chair next to you and taking out your notebook and your own laptop. Armin turned his screen slightly so you could see the Google Slides presentation he'd already started.

“So,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “the project is basically split into three parts. We each pick a topic from the syllabus—we're focusing on one planetary system or celestial phenomenon—and then tie it back to a central question or theme. I thought we could go with, like… how different environments in space might support life? It leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

“That actually sounds really cool,” you said, surprised by how easily the conversation was flowing. Armin was easy to talk to—calm, thoughtful, never pushing too hard. “I was kind of thinking about Europa. Like, that moon of Jupiter? There’s been speculation that it could have an ocean under the ice.”

Armin’s eyes lit up. “That would be perfect for your section. I was thinking of doing something about Titan, Saturn’s moon. We could compare how the chemical compositions of each moon might influence the potential for life—or even just how scientists are studying them.”

The hour passed quicker than you expected. Armin’s presence, though quiet, was reassuring. The two of you bounced ideas back and forth, shared articles, and even got a little distracted googling strange facts about different moons. At one point, Armin laughed quietly at a meme someone had edited into one of Titan's photos, and you felt your shoulders finally relax.

“No one else showing up kinda worked out,” you said as you started packing up your things.

“Yeah,” Armin replied, unplugging his laptop from the monitor. “Honestly, I don’t mind. We got a lot done. I’ll just post our outline in the chat and if they don’t contribute by the next meeting, I’ll talk to the professor. He said we could document that stuff.”

You both walked out into the early evening sunlight, your backpacks slung over your shoulders as the automatic doors of the rec center whooshed open.

As you and Armin stepped outside, the soft warmth of the sun casting long shadows on the pavement, he glanced over at you with a relaxed expression.

“Got any plans this weekend?” he asked, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

You sighed, a little amused. “My friend’s been begging me to go to this frat party Saturday night. I haven't been to one since my first week of freshman year."

Armin raised an eyebrow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “At Delta Sig?”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Are you in that frat?”

He laughed—soft, a little disbelieving. “God, no. Not even close. But my friend Eren is. Our friend Mikasa and I usually end up at those parties to keep him from doing something insane.”

You tilted your head curiously. “So… you do go sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Armin admitted, his tone casual. “Delta Sig almost got shut down, actually. They had, like, a ton of hazing violations documented over the past decade. I tried convincing Eren not to rush, but he did anyway. Even after I showed him an article about it online.”

You laughed. “Wow. That makes me feel so great about possibly going.”

He smiled, nudging your arm lightly with his elbow. “If you do end up there, try to find me, alright?”

“Yeah?” you asked, a little surprised by the offer.

“I’m not a big drinker or anything,” Armin said with a small shrug, “but I’ll probably be hanging around Eren and Mikasa, keeping them out of trouble. If you go, say hi.”

You nodded, a little smile growing on your face and a flutter in your heart at the idea. “Okay. I will.”

ꔛ

"I look like an idiot," you whined, eyeing yourself in the mirror as you looked over your outfit. As a freshman, you might've worn something like this to these types of parties, but now you weren't sure anyone should wear this kind of outfit. The top was so low cut and the jeans were just simply not it, you weren't sure if you were going for slutty or casual.

"Come on, you look great," your friend, Hitch, said. Her dirty blonde hair was neatly styled and she wore an outfit combination similar to yours—tiny top with jeans.

"We look like we're matching," you replied, but with no malice. That could be cute, you thought.

"Ugh, you're right. Be right back."

You glared at the back of her head as she turned to presumably go get changed. Your hair looked nice, and so did your makeup. The outfit felt dumb but it wasn't terrible. So why did you feel like throwing up?

"Armin really said to come find you?" Hitch asked when she returned with a grin and different outfit, bringing up the conversation you had in her car when she picked you up. Hitch seemed to be a frequent partygoer to this specific frat, and had met Armin a few times at these functions. When you brought it up in the car, she confirmed that Armin hardly ever drank and mostly stayed near Eren and Mikasa.

"Yeah. He's really sweet, so I didn't expect him to even go to these," you replied honestly, applying more lip gloss. "It wasn't a surprise when he said he doesn't drink, though."

"I'm sure you guys will really hit it off then. You even turned down my 'getting ready shots'."

You rolled your eyes, and soon you were on your way, taking the short walk towards Greek row where the party was presumably already in full swing—Hitch insisting on being late so you two didn't look lame waiting for people to show up.

ꔛ

Armin was a mess.

He didn't know why, or how, but in the hours leading up to the party he convinced himself he was awkward and weird for telling you to come see him. He even went to Jean and Eren and begged for advice.

He had so much trouble reading you, but he knew you were kind. And pretty. What he didn't really know was—well, everything else. Did you drink? What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you care that he didn't like dancing?

None of the questions made sense, but neithed did anything in his mind. Why was he this stressed over a party? He was practically the babysitter when attending, and it's not like he personally invited you. He just said you should come see him. God, was that even more weird?

Somehow, some way, Jean and Eren convinced Armin to take some shots. Three shots, actually. To "ease his mind" and to "calm his nerves" apparently.

Now, there Armin was in the back of Eren's car, finding the way the streetlights passed the window and the bass of the music electrifying. Everything was warm and fuzzy, and he felt his head spin the entire drive.

ꔛ

The music hit you before anything else—thick, throbbing bass that vibrated through the concrete steps leading up to the frat house. Red cups were already scattered across the yard, and the dim porch light revealed clusters of people smoking and laughing.

"This is going to be fun," Hitch said, linking her arm through yours. "Come on, let's find your astronomy boy."

You felt heat rise to your face at the nickname. "He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah," Hitch interrupted with a knowing smile.

As you squeezed your way through the packed living room, the scent of cheap beer and cologne made your nose scrunch. Bodies were pressed together everywhere, dancing and swaying to music that was way too loud for any actual conversation. You were starting to regret coming when Hitch suddenly squealed and pointed toward the kitchen.

"There he is! Armin's over there with Eren and Jean."

You followed her gaze, and sure enough, there was Armin—but not the Armin you expected. His normally neat blond hair was slightly mussed, cheeks flushed pink, and he was... laughing? Not the reserved, thoughtful chuckle you'd heard in the study room, but a full, uninhibited laugh that made his whole face light up.

"Is he..." you trailed off, not quite believing what you were seeing.

Hitch's eyes widened with delight. "Oh my god, I think he's drunk! This is amazing. I've literally never seen Armin anything but sober."

You made your way over to the kitchen, Hitch practically dragging you. Armin was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly with two guys you assumed were Eren and Jean. He was gesturing with his hands, something about... constellations? It was hard to hear over the music.

When he spotted you, his eyes widened almost comically.

"You came!" Armin said with such genuine excitement that it made your heart do a strange flip. He pushed himself off the counter—a bit unsteadily—and made his way over. "I wasn't sure if you would. But you did!"

"I said I would," you replied with a smile, surprised by how endearing his enthusiasm was.

"Hey, Armin," Hitch said, giving him a little wave. "Looking good tonight! Where's Marlowe at?"

"Marlowe? Oh! He's out back, I think. By the beer pong tables." Armin seemed to remember his friends then, turning back to the two guys watching with amused expressions. "Oh! This is (Y/N)," he said your name with such care it made your cheeks warm again. "She's in my astronomy group. We're doing Europa and Titan and life possibilities and it's really cool. And she's friends with Hitch."

The shorter of the two guys—brown hair, intense eyes—reached out a hand. "I'm Eren. This is Jean." He nodded toward a guy with an undercut and a smirk.

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking hands with both of them.

"You're in Armin's class? Good luck with that. He's been talking about space for the past hour," Jean said, but there was affection in his voice.

Hitch was already scanning the room. "I'm going to find Marlowe. You good here?" she asked you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured her, secretly relieved to have an out from being around her boyfriend. Marlowe was nice enough, but he was so serious it made conversations feel like job interviews.

"Don't wait up," she winked, then disappeared into the crowd.

Armin was staring at you with an expression of pure fascination. "Your hair looks really nice," he said, the filter between his thoughts and words clearly compromised. "Like—like starlight. Did you know some stars have different colors? Red giants, blue dwarfs—"

"You're such a nerd," Eren cut him off, but ruffled Armin's hair affectionately. "Even drunk you're giving astronomy lectures."

"How much did you drink?" you asked Armin, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

"Three shots!" Armin held up only two fingers, then frowned and corrected himself. "Only three. They said it would help with nerves. I don't usually drink." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice but still speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I feel weird. Like my brain is swimming."

Jean snorted. "Lightweight."

Eren reached into a nearby cooler and pulled out a beer, offering it to you. "Want one? Fair warning, I think we've corrupted your study buddy."

You hesitated. You weren't planning on drinking much tonight, but Armin was looking at you with such hopeful eyes.

"Please?" Armin said, swaying slightly. "I feel like an alien right now. Everyone's having fun and I'm just... vibrating on a different frequency."

The way he said it made you laugh. "Okay, fine. One beer. Maybe three, eventually."

Armin's face lit up again as you accepted the beer from Eren. You popped the tab and took a small sip, grimacing at the taste. Cheap beer was still cheap beer.

"Well, now that Armin's in good hands," Eren said with an exaggerated stretch, "Jean and I are gonna go find Mikasa. She texted that she just got here."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Armin asked, a flash of panic crossing his face.

"Relax, we'll be back," Jean said, already backing away. "Besides, you've got your project partner now."

Before Armin could protest further, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with a slightly swaying Armin Arlert.

"They always do that," Armin said, leaning back against the counter for stability. "Leave me places."

"Looks like I'm on babysitting duty," you teased, taking another small sip of your beer.

"No, no," Armin protested, reaching out and nearly missing as he tried to touch your arm. "You should have fun too. Not just—just watch me being weird."

"Who says watching you being weird isn't fun?" you replied, finding yourself genuinely enjoying this uninhibited version of him.

Armin stared at you for a moment, then broke into a wide smile. "You're really nice, you know that? And smart. Your Europa idea was so good. I went home and read, like, three papers about it."

"After our meeting? I thought you said you were going to meet Eren and Mikasa."

"I did! But after. I couldn't stop thinking about the project. And..." he trailed off, that flush on his cheeks deepening.

"And what?" you prompted, suddenly curious.

Armin took a sip from his cup—soda, you noticed—and looked around at the party as if gathering courage. "And I was kind of hoping you'd come tonight. I don't know why. I just... wanted to see you outside of class."

Your heart did that strange flip again. "Well, here I am," you said softly, not sure what else to say.

"Here you are," Armin echoed, his eyes meeting yours with surprising clarity despite his intoxication. "Want to go somewhere quieter? I can't hear myself think in here, and I have so many thoughts right now."

You laughed, finding his honesty refreshing. "Lead the way."

Armin grinned and pushed himself off the counter, taking your hand with a boldness you suspected was alcohol-induced, pulling you through the crowded living room toward the staircase.

As you followed him, fingers intertwined with his, you found yourself thinking that this was definitely not how you expected your Friday night to go—but somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

Armin led you up the stairs, his hand still holding yours as you weaved through small clusters of people gathered on the steps. You were glad for his guidance—the house was a maze of narrow hallways, dimly lit and pulsing with the bass from downstairs. Finally, he stopped in front of a door and turned the handle, peeking in before ushering you inside.

"Jean's room," he explained, closing the door behind you both. The music instantly became muffled, a distant thumping rather than the overwhelming roar from downstairs.

The room was surprisingly clean for a frat house bedroom—minimal clutter, a neatly made bed, and even a small bookshelf in the corner. You glanced around, suddenly feeling like you were intruding.

"Should we be in here? I feel bad taking his room," you said, hovering awkwardly near the door.

Armin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "He won't even need it until like 4 AM. Trust me. He's either going to be downstairs until everyone leaves or..." He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Got it," you laughed, understanding the implication. You took another sip of your beer, feeling the pleasant warmth spreading through your limbs as you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed.

Armin joined you, leaving a respectful few inches between you. "Better, right? I can actually hear you now."

"Much better," you agreed, finding it easier to relax now that you weren't surrounded by sweaty strangers. "So... you really went home and read scientific papers after our meeting?"

His face lit up immediately. "Yeah! There was this one about the chemical composition of Europa's ocean and how it might compare to Earth's deep-sea hydrothermal vents. Did you know there are organisms on Earth that don't need sunlight at all? They just use chemical energy from the vents."

You watched him as he spoke, his hands gesturing enthusiastically, eyes bright with genuine passion. The alcohol had lowered his usual reserve, but it was still Armin—brilliant, thoughtful Armin—just with his thoughts flowing more freely. You found yourself drawn to this version of him, the slight flush on his cheeks and the way his hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward.

"That's actually fascinating," you said, taking another long sip of your beer. You were starting to feel it now, that pleasant buzz that made everything seem warmer, more immediate. "So you think there could be something like that on Europa?"

"It's possible! That's what makes it so exciting," he said, shifting to face you more directly. "We're just beginning to understand how diverse life can be. The universe is so much stranger than we imagine."

You nodded, feeling a pleasant heaviness in your limbs as you leaned back on your elbows. "I need to catch up to your level of intoxication if we're going to have deep space conversations all night."

Armin laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Trust me, you don't. I feel like my brain is both racing and moving through molasses at the same time."

"That actually sounds kind of nice right now," you admitted, finishing the last of your beer. The room had taken on a gentle, swaying quality, and you found yourself increasingly aware of how close Armin was sitting.

"Here," he said, reaching over to take your empty can and placing it on Jean's desk. As he moved, his shoulder brushed against yours, and you felt a small jolt at the contact.

When he settled back beside you, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You joined him, both of you lying side by side, shoulders almost touching.

"There are glow-in-the-dark stars up there," Armin pointed out quietly. Sure enough, faint green stars were stuck to the ceiling in no particular pattern. "Jean would die if he knew I told anyone. He says they were there when he moved in."

You laughed softly, still tipsy but feeling more sober now.

The dim glow from the ceiling stars cast a soft, ethereal light over Armin’s face as you lay beside him. The alcohol had settled warmly in your veins, making every sensation just a little more intense—the softness of the bed beneath you, the muffled bass of the music downstairs, the way Armin’s breathing had slowed into something deep and steady beside you.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, studying the delicate slope of his button nose, the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked behind his glasses. His cheeks were still flushed pink from the drinks, and his lips—soft, slightly parted—were just inches from yours. His hair, usually so neat, was tousled from the night’s chaos, falling in golden strands across his forehead. You had the sudden, overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it, to see if it was as silky as it looked.

Armin must have noticed you staring, because his eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, the air between you stilled. His gaze was warm, hazy with alcohol but still so Armin, so full of quiet intensity.

Then, without a word, he shifted onto his elbow, leaning over you. His free hand came up, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a tenderness that made your pulse jump.

You barely had time to process it before he was kissing you.

His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and tasted faintly of cheap beer and something sweet—maybe the soda he’d been drinking earlier. The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was still unsure if this was okay. But when you sighed against his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, he deepened it with a quiet urgency that sent heat spiraling through your stomach.

His hand slid from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing into yours, the way his breath hitched when you nipped lightly at his lower lip.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough.

You answered by tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down to you. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and suddenly his weight was pressing you into the mattress, his hips slotting between your thighs in a way that made your breath catch.

The kiss turned hotter, messier—his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your hips. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the way his fingers flexed against you like he was holding back from touching you everywhere.

Armin’s breath was hot against your lips as he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, filthy drag that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair, skimming down your sides, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. You could feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way his body trembled slightly with restraint, like he was holding himself back from just taking what he wanted.

You arched up into him, grinding your hips against his, and he let out a broken groan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he panted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with want. His lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his voice was rough when he spoke again. “I—I wanna fuck you. So bad.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight between your legs. You could feel how hard he was already, the thick line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh through his jeans.

“Yeah?” you breathed, your own voice shaky.

Armin nodded, biting his lower lip as his hands slid under the hem of your top, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. “Yeah. God, you feel—you feel so good. Can I—?”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you unzipped your jeans and grabbed his wrist to guide his hand lower, past the waistband of your jeans, letting him feel the damp heat of your panties. His breath hitched, fingers twitching against you.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, voice wrecked. “You’re—you’re already—”

You cut him off with another kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own hands wandered lower, palming the hard bulge in his jeans. He jerked against your touch, hips bucking forward with a desperate little noise.

“You too,” you murmured against his lips, squeezing him through the fabric.

Armin shuddered, his forehead dropping against yours as he let out a shaky exhale. “Shit—shit—keep doing that—”

You did, rubbing him slowly, feeling him throb under your fingers. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hips rocking into your hand, chasing the friction.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered, biting at his jaw.

Armin whined, his fingers digging into your hips. “Because of you—fuck, I—I wanna fuck you—”

His hand slid back down, slipping beneath your panties this time, fingers brushing through your slick folds. You gasped, arching into his touch, and he groaned against your neck.

Armin’s breath hitched when you suddenly switched positions and pushed him back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you straddled his thighs. His cock strained against his jeans, the fabric damp with pre-cum, and his fingers twitched at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“You—you don’t have to—” he started, voice already wrecked.

You silenced him with a smirk, taking his glasses off which were slightly fogged up and folding them to put on the nearby nightstand, then popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down agonizingly slow. His hips jerked up, chasing your touch, and you could see the way his cock twitched under his boxers, desperate for relief.

“I want to,” you murmured, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down just enough to free him.

Armin gasped as the cool air hit his flushed skin, his cock springing free—hard, leaking, and so fucking pretty. You licked your lips, watching the way his stomach clenched as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke.

“Fuck,” he whined, his head falling back against the pillow.

You didn’t tease him any longer. Leaning down, you dragged your tongue over the head of his cock, tasting the salty-sweet pre-cum beading at the tip. Armin’s hips jerked, a broken noise tearing from his throat as you took him into your mouth.

It was messy—you were both still a little drunk, your movements sloppy and uncoordinated—but that just made it hotter. You sucked him deep, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head, spit dripping down your chin.

Armin was losing it. His fingers tangled in your hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life as he whimpered above you. “Oh—oh God—your mouth—fuck—”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and his thighs trembled under you. His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you could tell he was already close—his breath was coming in ragged gasps, his hips twitching like he was trying not to thrust up into your throat.

“I—I’m gonna—” he choked out, his voice high and desperate.

You didn’t let up. Instead, you took him deeper, your nose brushing the coarse blond curls at the base of his cock, and that was all it took.

Armin came with a broken cry, his back arching off the bed as he spilled hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed around him, milking him through it until he was squirming from oversensitivity, his hands weakly tugging at your hair.

“Too much—too much—” he whined, his whole body trembling.

You pulled off with a wet pop, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his lips parted as he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Armin’s chest heaved as he blinked up at you, dazed and wrecked, his cock still twitching against his stomach. His cheeks burned even redder as he stammered,

“S-Sorry—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I just—”

You cut him off with a kiss, licking into his mouth so he could taste himself on your tongue. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d pull away.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmured against his lips, grinding down against his thigh, letting him feel how soaked you still were. “Just fuck me.”

Armin’s breath hitched, his cock already stiffening again at the words. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing greedily as he nodded, his voice rough.

“Yeah—yeah, okay—turn around—”

Armin's hands trembled as he helped you turn around, his breath coming in ragged gasps against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he knelt behind you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging the denim down your thighs inch by inch, his voice thick with want. "Look at you—fuck—your ass is so perfect—"

The cool air hit your bare skin as he peeled your jeans off completely, leaving you in just your soaked panties. His fingers traced the curve of your ass, squeezing lightly before sliding between your thighs, rubbing over the damp fabric.

"So wet," he murmured, his voice wrecked. He hooked his fingers into your panties next, pulling them down slowly, his breath hitching as your pussy was finally exposed to him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

His thumbs spread you open, and you could feel his hot gaze raking over every inch of you—your swollen lips, the way you dripped for him, the way your ass arched back, begging for him.

"Hang on, okay?" He said quietly, and you felt the bed shift with his weight. Then you heard the unmistakeable sound of a wrapper being opened. "Don't ask why I know where Jean keeps his condoms. He... likes to brag," Armin said sheepishly, making you giggle as you heard him whimper slightly as he presumably rolled the condom on.

Armin’s fingers dug into your hips as he lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance. He hesitated just for a second, his voice shaky with drunken lust and nerves.

“Fuck—I—I might not last, I’m sorry—”

But you barely heard him, because then he was pushing in, slow, that perfect curve of his cock hitting every sweet spot on the way. Your breath stuttered as he filled you, thick and throbbing, and a greedy moan tore from your throat before you could stop it.

“Oh fuck—” Your hands fisted the sheets, your back arching deeper, chest pressing into the mattress. “Yes—just like that, Armin.”

Armin groaned behind you, his hips stuttering as he bottomed out, his grip on you tightening like he was afraid you’d disappear. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good."

You clenched around him, and he whimpered, his cock twitching inside you like he was already fighting not to spill. But you didn’t care—not when he fit this perfectly, not when every ragged breath he took sent sparks through your veins.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, as you rolled your hips back to meet his shallow thrusts. The new angle let you feel him even deeper, and you gasped, your back bowing as a shiver ran down your spine.

Armin choked out a whimper, his hands scrambling for purchase on your hips as he bottomed out, his thighs trembling against yours. “Y-You feel—fuck—so tight—”

You grinned into the mattress, rolling your hips to take him deeper, and he let out a broken noise, his nails biting into your skin. He was already unraveling, his cock pulsing inside you, and you loved it—the way he couldn’t hold back, the way he was falling apart just for you.

Armin’s hips snapped forward with a desperate, sloppy thrust, his cock sinking deep into your dripping cunt as a broken moan tore from his throat. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider as he watched, his dick glistening with your slick as it disappeared inside you again and again.

“Fuck—look at you—” he panted, his voice wrecked, pupils blown black with lust. “Taking me so good—your pussy’s sucking me in.”

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the sheets as his cock dragged against your walls, the curve of him hitting that sweet spot with every rough snap of his hips. Your vision blurred, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach as he fucked into you with unsteady, frantic strokes—like he was already on the edge, but needed to make you feel it too.

“You’re—ngh—you’re so tight—” Armin groaned, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold back. His cock twitched inside you, swollen and throbbing, his balls drawing up tight. “Gonna—gonna cum—shit—but I wanna make you feel it first—”

His hand slid around your hip, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, frantic circles as he fucked you harder. You gasped, your back arching, your cunt clenching around him as pleasure sparked white-hot under your skin.

“There—right there—” you babbled, your voice shaking. “Armin—fuck—don’t stop—”

He whined, his thrusts turning erratic, his cock pulsing inside you as he teetered on the edge. “You—you like that? Like how I fuck you?” he slurred, his words dripping with filthy praise. “God, your pussy’s gripping me—squeezing my cock—fuck, I can’t—can’t—”

His hips jerked, his rhythm faltering as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself to the hilt with a choked-off moan, his cum flooding the inside of the condom.

You felt it—every twitch, every throb of his cock as he emptied himself inside you, his fingers still working your clit desperately, like he couldn’t stop even as he came.

“Fuck—fuck—” he gasped, his voice wrecked, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades as he shuddered through the aftershocks.

You weren’t far behind. The filthy sound of him filling you, the way his cock kept twitching inside you as he panted against your back—it pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your cunt clenching around him as you cried out, your thighs shaking, your nails digging into the mattress.

Armin groaned, his hips grinding weakly against your ass as he milked his own pleasure.

“Shit—” he mumbled, dazed, his voice slurred with booze and bliss. “You—you just came on my dick..." He pulled out, discarding the condom into a nearby trashcan.

You laughed breathlessly, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you collapsed onto the mattress beneath you. Armin followed, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled into your neck.

“You’re… really good at that,” you murmured, your voice hazy.

Armin huffed a drunken laugh against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah," you sighed, grinning as you felt his dick twitch against the skin of your ass.

He kissed your shoulder, his lips soft and sweet despite the filth that had just spilled from them. “...Wanna go again?”

You turned your head just enough to catch his gaze—his flushed cheeks, his messy hair, his stupidly pretty eyes—and grinned.

“Obviously.”

#armin x reader smut #aot x reader smut #aot smut #armin smut #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert #armin #smut #aot x reader #aot #snk

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teaboot · 1 month ago

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mr boot, can we see more things you did not get suspended for?

(i promise this is only partially because i want to see more of doodleboot with his mouth open)

I may have to draw these later BUT I can write a list now!

1. In grade 3 we had a program where older students would supervise younger students while teachers ate lunch. Younger students could talk and walk around the classroom as long as they weren’t disruptive. One day we had an older student yelling at all of us to “Sit down and Shut Up”, and that made me so mad I told him, “You’re standing and yelling at us to sit and be quiet, you’re not following your own rules”. This turned into an argument where he threatened to send me to the principal’s office, and I said that if he did I’d tell them why. I did end up getting reported for “not listening to the student monitor” and a phone home was made but from what I recall I was never given a lecture and didn’t get in trouble. That kid was also never supervisor again.

2. On my first day of elementary school an older kid took a dime I found and threw it to the back of the school bus. He turned out to be a bully every time I rode the bus after that and eventually started spitting at me from across the aisle. The bus driver never did anything about it so one day I spat at him back, and we both got temporarily suspended from the bus- me for about a day, him for a week, except I guess someone knew it was an ongoing issue that he was causing so he also got suspended from school for a week. I didn’t, though.

3. Again in elementary school I got into a disagreement with a kid- I don’t remember what about- and he punched me in the stomach. I kicked him back and we both got sent to the school’s guidance counsellor, who I remember nothing about except he had grey hair and glasses and his office smelled like tuna salad. Other kid said he hadn’t done anything and I’d just kicked him for no reason. I told the whole story and said I knew kicking him was wrong but I’d been angry that he’d punched me over a disagreement. There was a call home but I was not suspended.

4. A kid in chess club told me that he was going to win our round, not because he was more experienced and I was only learning, but because boy’s brains are naturally better at strategy than girls are. This was my first introduction to sexism and I thought it was so stupid that I threw all my pawns full-force at his head. These were some hefty solid plastic pieces, too. I was then kicked out of the library, I think. I later discussed this with another guy friend and we agreed that boys WERE stronger than girls, but that was only because girls were smarter than boys and it had to balance out somehow. (We were about six at the time, for context.)

5. About half way through my first day of grade 8 social studies I realized the assignments, reading, and syllabus were completely identical to those from grade 7 social studies. When I pointed this out to the teacher, he said we could discuss it after class. He would not answer when I asked why it was exactly the same, and when I asked if half of us present were expected to do all the same work from the grade before a second time he said “Yes, you can do it differently if you want but you still have to do it” and said to take it as an opportunity to be more artistic if we wanted. I said this was ridiculous and asked if we would be learning ANYTHING new or just repeating the grade. He then went on a long rant about how he was in the middle of a divorce and lost his second job and “didn’t appreciate me undermining his authority in front of the other students”. My mom then got a phone call about my disruptive behaviour. When I told her my side of the story, she called back and asked to talk to the teacher to see what was going on and discuss my concerns about the syllables, to which the person receiving the call told her, “Mr. So-and-so has a degree in psychology and has teenage daughters, he knows how to handle difficult personalities”. Mom and I then agreed that Mr. Guy was a fragile, condescending idiot with poor compartmentalization skills and that I should just take the class as-is for an easy A. Which I did.

6. Choir was an optional extracurricular except for my class which for some reason were required to participate for reasons I am still unclear on. I hated choir and our songs were all stupid froofy saccharine bullshit about joy and rainbows and friendship and crap. I decided I was going to attend and would stand and do whatever I was told and mouth along if I had to but I wasn’t going to sing. The choir director was an asshole I had other classes with and already knew I didn’t want to be around, but in her defense she had a choir to direct and I wasn’t contributing. She’d frequently tell me to “sing louder” so she could hear me and then nod in satisfaction when I stood slightly straighter and opened my mouth wider while humming a little. I was eventually told if I wasn’t going to put the effort in then I would be asked to leave, to which I pointed out that I would GLADLY get out of her hair but half the students present were from my class and had been specifically ordered to participate, and had been told it was mandatory. This was then proven with a show of hands. I don’t know why this happened or why she didn’t know but she didn’t really get after me after that.

7. In grade four our gym class had a unit on “hip-hop dance” which consisted of a boom box playing what sounded like kidz bop covers of 80’s-90’s rap while a 40 year old white woman in a high ponytail and electric purple tights bounced around and showed us how to “pop and lock” and “do the electric slide” and “moonwalk”. I was immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of indignity that I could only articulate at the time as, “this is undignified”. I was a total goody two-shoes at the time and WANTED to be good and participate but was so weirdly disgusted and mortified at what was happening around me that after a few half-hearted movements I totally locked up in a straight-backed stand with a clenched jaw. All I felt I could do was wait for it to be over. Today I think I would describe the exact feeling as “paralytic cringe”. It was incredible. From what I recall I would not move or say anything to anyone and when being told to dance along I would just firmly say “no”. I remember having to be physically picked up and carried to the principal’s office where they called my mom but I have no idea what the aftermath was, only that being suspended was a big deal and that didn’t happen.

8. I really REALLY liked my grade 4 teacher and would regularly give her a little plasticine snail to sit on her desk. Only one, remade of the same clay over and over. The next morning every other day or so I would find that someone had smashed it flat. One day I unfolded a paper clip so that there was a spike pointed up and hid it inside the snail. I wish I could tell you what happened but I don’t know. The snail disappeared and I couldn’t re-make it anymore.

There are so many more now that I’m thinking about it but damn I got in trouble more than I thought I did huh

#Teaboot stories #To draw #Things I didn’t get suspended for #Long post

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applepiiex · 17 days ago

Text

FIRST WORDS ! ! ! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

Nanami Kento x Male!Reader

The baby is now a constant in that chat box. However, Nanami is as stoic as ever in front of his students. He wrote it off as a one time occurrence, not to happen again. Until a milestone happens once more during class. A/N: Sequel to Zoom Class

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊

Nanami’s face on camera? Sharp. Focused. Almost stern. His notes? organized. Slide transitions: clean. His students? thoroughly convinced this man has never once experienced human joy.

“—and so, when considering how neoliberal policy influenced wage stagnation in the late 20th century—”

Thunk.

Off-camera, there was a soft, curious sound. Followed by a baby squeal. Nanami paused, barely, but kept going, smoothing his tone.

“—the emphasis shifted toward deregulated markets and—” Another squeal. Then: a distinct thud against hardwood flooring. Then—

“Pa.”

Nanami froze. The chat remained quiet. At first. Then it began.

did someone say “pa” wait is baby nanami BACK?? is that HIS BABY AGAIN?? omg is this happening LIVE RN Y’ALL SHUT UP I THINK THAT WAS HIS FIRST WORD

He stared straight ahead at the webcam. Unmoving. Calm. A statue of academic rigor. And then another one.

“Pa…pa!” The sound was clear. Bright. Practiced. Nanami’s eyes widened a millimeter.

You gasped offscreen, working silently in his office to keep your eyes on your son. There was a clatter, your voice hushed but frantic, “Kento. Kento. He just said it—he just—!”

And then a squeal of absolute delight from your son, who clearly now knew he had an audience. Nanami’s students, meanwhile, were losing their minds.

HE SAID PAPA ON ZOOM I’M CRYING I WAS HERE FOR THIS HISTORIC MOMENT drop the syllabus sir we’re done here THE WAY HE DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH. ICON.

Slowly, Nanami turned his head to the side just out of frame, but his voice finally broke that steady cadence. “…He said it?”

You were already stepping into view, baby boy in your arms, beaming so hard your eyes were glassy. “He said it. Twice. Papa.”

The baby waved his chubby fist like he’d just ended the Cold War. Nanami’s mouth parted slightly then curled, soft and in awe. “My son’s first word was ‘Papa’...”

The chat exploded.

i’m not crying YOU’RE crying PROFESSOR NANAMI IS A PAPA CONFIRMED ✨papa nanami supremacy✨ honestly class should be cancelled in honor

Nanami turned back to the screen, and for the first time ever—ever—he smiled, full and genuine and unguarded. “…Class dismissed,” he said.

A cheer broke out in the chat. Capslock. Emoticons. One person tried to post a link to a diaper sponsorship. You giggled as Nanami stood and gently took your son into his arms, cradling him close. The baby patted his jaw once, then said it again, proudly.

“Pa!”

Nanami looked at you. “He said it for me.”

You kissed his cheek. “He meant it for you.”

The camera was still on. The students were still watching. But Nanami didn’t care. He pressed his forehead against his son’s and whispered, “I’ll remember this forever.”

Three weeks after “Papa”, the household had been coasting off the high of that first word like it was a Nobel Peace Prize. Nanami was still floating. Still smug. Still bringing it up in casual conversation like he wasn’t completely obsessed.

“My son’s first word? Papa.”

“Ah yes, I’m afraid I have to end office hours early today. My son said ‘Papa.’”

“He likes bananas and saying Papa.”

You were equal parts endeared and mildly exasperated. “Are you gonna introduce yourself at conferences like that now?” you teased one night while folding laundry. “‘Hi, I’m Kento Nanami. Economist. Father of a prodigy who said Papa first.’”

He didn’t even blink. “If it fits on the name tag.”

But then came Tuesday. The pandemic had been mostly resolved and Nanami had a full day on campus. Office hours, a guest seminar, and a late faculty meeting that dragged until 8pm.

You were home. Alone. Playing soft music while the baby gnawed on a silicone giraffe, cheeks flushed with teething effort. You leaned down to rub his back and gently whispered, “It’s okay, baby. Dada’s here.”

The baby blinked up at you. “…Da.”

You froze. You blinked. Then tentatively, “Dada?”

His eyes lit up. “Dada!”

You screamed. (Quietly. Internally. Okay maybe not that quietly.) He said it again. Over and over. Like he knew what he had done. You immediately fumbled for your phone, hands shaking like you were defusing a bomb, and recorded a 10-second clip. Just one clean “Dada!” with a big toothless smile. You sent it to Nanami. No caption. Just the holy grail.

He opened it mid-meeting. In the middle of a dry PowerPoint on pension policy. The second he heard it, and he gasped.

His colleague paused. “Uh… Nanami?”

He stood up. Stood up. “I have to go.”

“But we’re only halfway—”

“I SAID I HAVE TO GO.”

He power-walked through the halls like he was storming a battlefield, gripping his phone like it was a lifeline. That video on loop. Playing it again. And again.

By the time he burst through the front door, you were holding your son in the kitchen, already on your third round of "What did you say? Say it again for Dada~”

Nanami dropped his briefcase. “Did he—was that real?”

You turned. “You’re home.”

He pointed accusingly, like he was both thrilled and personally attacked. “You got ‘Dada’?!”

You grinned. “I got Dada.”

The baby squealed and reached for him. “Dada!!” And Nanami cracked. Right there. Melted like a glacier under a heat lamp. He crossed the room in four strides and swept the baby up in one arm, holding him like treasure.

“You couldn’t have waited?” he muttered into the baby’s hair. “I gave you bananas yesterday.”

“Dada!!!” the baby shouted again, smacking his cheek with joy.

You hugged him from behind. “You’re still the first. I just happen to be the favorite today.”

Nanami huffed. “Unacceptable.”

He looked at your son, deadly serious. “Say Papa. Go on. Remind him.”

The baby gave a gurgle. Then, “No.”

You howled.

Nanami looked betrayed. “Did he just—?”

“Oh he understood. That was deliberate.” You pressed a kiss to his temple as he stood frozen, scandalized. “Don’t worry. He’ll say it again when he wants more bananas.”

“I’m filing a formal complaint.”

You laughed. “With who?”

Nanami looked down at his baby who was now gnawing his shirt button, and sighed. “God, probably.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x m!reader #nanami x m!reader #Nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x male reader #x male reader #x m!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #male reader #m!reader #applepiiexx writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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harknessxo · 6 months ago

Text

Professor Harkness

Paring: Darkish!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha is a very attractive but strict Professor in your College. You somehow manage to keep up with her without seducing her like many students tried but failed to, which makes her take an interest in you.

Warnings; spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, professor kink?

Word Count: 3.5k

A/n: Haven’t posted in quite a bit, my bad!!! This is lowkey ass but I hope you like it!

This was your first year of college. You lived in Eastview most of your life but chose to go to Westview college when you got a full ride scholarship. It was scary at first, moving away from home, away from your parents but you got a new start.

As you got comfortable in your new environment, you had asked around about your teachers to know what to expect from them and everyone told you they were chill except for one, Professor Harkness. Many of the people you asked said she was a bitch, was way too strict, acted like she had a stick up her ass but “at least she was hot.” ‘Lucky me,’ you thought. You later figured out you had her once a week on Wednesdays. At least you only had to deal with her one day a week.

Your first day soon approached, your teachers all seemed very easygoing and understanding which only made you more nervous to meet the infamous Professor Harkness. Wednesday rolled around and you woke up nice and early to get ready. You wanted to make a good first impression, well, at least attempt to.

You were the first student to show up to the lecture hall. You took a seat at the very front, you liked to be able to hear everything your teachers said. After about five minutes, more students strolled in, filling up all the seats and finally, in all her glory, she walked in last. They weren’t lying when they said she was hot.

She walked to the front of the room, carrying a stack of papers and a bag. She placed the stack on the podium and began to set up for class. She didn’t bother addressing the class until the bell rang.

“Good morning everyone. I’m Professor Harkness and you will address me as such, no ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs,’” she picked up the stack she had previously placed on her desk and started passing the papers out, “This is my syllabus. My email and office hours and at the top, if you have any questions, competent questions I mean, feel free to reach out. The first section talks about my deadlines-“ she was suddenly interrupted by a tardy student knocking on the door.

Her expression turned from somewhat welcoming to anger in seconds. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly frustrated by the tardy student, then opened the door.

“Don’t bother coming back to this class.” She stated in a cold tone before shutting the door on the student’s face. She continued on going over her rules and expectations, which were extremely high but nothing you couldn’t handle, like nothing happened.

This was going to be fun.

As the weeks went on, less and less people remained in her class either because they couldn’t handle it or they got kicked out. Many tried to seduce their way to an A but Professor Harkness was not having any of it. You found it embarrassing how the boys tried to flirt with her, sometimes even girls.

She dealt with the various attempts made to seduce her in the most professional ways, or unprofessional too, she didn’t seem to care. She would ignore their comments or straight up insult them, she had no time to deal with idiots.

You found it hot. You might have thought about her treating you just like that once or twice while getting yourself off, but of course you would never admit it or tell anyone. You were too scared to approach her anyway. She would most likely report you if she ever heard that you found her strict and harsh ways “hot”.

She didn’t seem to notice your presence much until she started noticing the efforts you put into her class. She couldn’t remember the last time any of her students were competent enough to reach the bare minimum of her expectations. She was not one to have a soft spot for students yet she found herself paying more attention to you in particular, she found it amusing how serious you were about her class.

You didn’t seem to notice her attraction at all. You didn’t notice the hungry looks or the way she would speak just a bit softer towards you if you raised your hand in class. Well, you did but you thought you were imagining things or that she was just in a good mood. You never actually approached her one on one. You thought she was very intimidating plus you always understood her material and never had to approach her. That was until now.

She had assigned a project and you couldn’t seem to understand a specific part of it so when the class was over and everyone strolled out, you stayed behind.

“Professor Harkness?” You called out nervously. She looked up from her papers and saw you still sitting in the classroom, the rest of the students were gone.

“Ah, Y/n.” She spoke your name, which honestly kinda surprised you. She set down her pen and stood up from her desk, walking over to you and leaned against the edge of the desk.

“You need something?”

“Y-yeah. I don’t mean to be annoying, I know you said if we had any questions, to reach you through email or visit you during office hours but I promise this is quick.” You rambled on, hoping she wouldn’t curse you out like she did other students. To your surprise, she simply nodded for you to go on.

“I can’t seem to understand this part of the project,” you pointed to a specific part of the rubric she gave out, “Could you explain further please?” She leaned over your desk to look at the rubric, her body hovering over yours. She studied the part you were pointing at, taking note of your struggle.

“Ah, I see. That part can be a bit tricky for some,” she proceeded to explain the section in more depth, her eyes scanning your features as you took in her every word. She made sure you were understanding every word she said, her gaze never leaving your face as she watched your expressions. It was almost addicting how attentive you were.

“Oh okay. That makes so much more sense now, thank you Professor Harkness. I hope it wasn’t a bother.” She smirked at your response, amused by how polite you were.

“It’s no bother at all, Y/n.” She said, straightening up and leaning against the desk again.

“But, since you’re still here…” she turned to a stack of archives on her desk, “Would you be a sweetheart and help me take these to my office?”

“Of course!” you agreed immediately. You took half of the stack while she took the other half and led you to her office. The office was spacious and organized. She had shelves full of books, papers and other things. A large desk was displayed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking couch against the wall and a chair across from it. She gestured to the chair as she set her half of the archives down on her desk.

“Set those down here, please.” You carefully placed the stack on her desk. She walked over to her chair and sat down, watching you set the archives down with a satisfied smile.

“Is there anything else you need, professor?” You asked, sweetly.

“No, that’s all for now. But I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“What is it?” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours as she studied your expression.

“You’re one of my best students, if not the best. You’re not like the other idiots who just show up to class and fail every test. You actually care about the material, don’t you?”

“Mhm…” you hummed in response, trying to figure out what she was getting at. She chuckled softly, crossing her legs.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me then, would you?”

“O-of course not.” She smirked at your stutter, finding it adorable how nervous you seemed.

“Good. You may go now. Have a good day, hon.” Your cheeks flushed at the pet name.

“H-have a good day, professor.” She watched as you left her office, a smirk still on her face. She couldn’t help but think about how cute you were when you blushed like that.

—

As the semester went on, Agatha tested you. She would give you material that was harder than the rest to see how you would do and you always came out on top. Rarely did you ever ask for help, nine times out of ten you could handle yourself. She was proud of you but she felt the need to punish you for something. To make you submit to her in a way, so when midterms began and you took her exam, she failed you on purpose.

When you got your grade back, you were stunned. You had studied your ass off night after night to prepare for it and you still somehow failed. This could potentially jeopardize your scholarship and not only that but you let down Agatha. You desperately needed her approval for some reason and you knew she would most likely not give you a chance to retake it but you chose to test your luck.

“Professor Harkness?” You said meekly as you strode into her office. It was six in the afternoon so mostly everyone had already gone home except for her apparently even though it was way past her office hours. She looked up from her desk, a small smirk on her face when she saw you. It was like she was expecting you.

“Yes, Y/n? Come in, close the door behind you.” You did as she asked.

“I um…I wanted to talk about my test score. I know you’re not one to give second chances but I really need to retake it. I studied so hard for it and this could put my scholarship at risk.” You pleaded with her. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms and looking at you with a cold expression.

“I was so disappointed when I graded your test, Y/n,” she stood up from her chair and walked around to the other side of the desk where you were, “But the fact is that you failed. I can’t just give you a second chance. It’s unfair to the other students who work just as hard as you.” Her words hurt you to your core. You let your favorite teacher down and now she was disappointed in you.

“Please, professor! I’ll do anything! I want to make you proud again.” You pleaded, desperately needing her approval. She stepped closer to you, standing in front of you now. She tilted your chin up with her fingers, making you look at her.

“Anything, huh?”

“Y-yes…” She smirked again, looking into your eyes and noticing the desperation in them. She could see how much you needed her approval, it was like you were addicted to it.

“I think there’s a way you can make it up to me…”

“Tell me…please?” You leaned further into her touch. She chuckled at your eagerness, running her thumb across your lower lip as she looked down at you.

“It’s going to be quite the task, darling. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Anything just- please? I’ll be a good girl.” You almost sobbed. She shushed you, pulling you closer by your chin.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re already such a good girl. So eager to please…I can’t wait to see how well you can do this for me.” She pressed her lips against yours and you let her. You let her take control and so as she pleased.

She explored every inch of your mouth and moved her hand to grip at the nape of your neck. She roughly pulled your head back with a grin plastered on her face. In one quick motion, she manhandled you to bend over her desk. A pathetic moan left your lips when she did so.

She chuckled darkly at the sound, enjoying the way you bent over for her. She pushed everything off her desk with one arm, making a loud thud as it all fell to the floor.

“You want to be a good girl for me don’t you?” you nodded your head, “Then you will take this punishment for me and if you do good, I will change your grade on your test, is that a deal?”

“D-deal.” She smirked and moved her hand from your neck to your back, gently running her hand down your spine. She then pulled your hips back, pressing them against her.

“Good girl…” She lifted the hem of the skirt you were wearing and admired the lacy purple panties you had chosen to wear. Her eyes darkened as she ran her fingers over the lace.

Sometimes, when you would start daydreaming in class while staring at her beauty, you noticed she would always wear something purple. You guessed it was her favorite color and therefore wore purple panties. Of course, you didn’t expect for things to turn out this way but good thing you did.

She was quite pleased with your choice. It was almost like you were a perfect little doll for her, a toy to play with and do as she pleased. She knew you would submit to her easily and it was going to be so much fun breaking you in.

“Look at you, already being a tease for me even before I’ve begun. You look so pretty in my color, honey.” You blushed at her compliment and gasped when she started sliding the fabric off until it reached your ankles, leaving you completely bare before her.

She ran her hands up your bare thighs and ass, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. She admired the way your body reacted to her every touch, she loved how easily she could rile you up.

“I’m going to give you ten spankings and you’re going to take them like a good girl, right?”

“Yes, professor…” you whimpered. She hummed in approval, her hands still roaming your thighs. She leaned down and whispered in your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

“Stay nice and still for me. If you move too much, I’ll have to punish you even more. Understood?”

“Understood.” She smiled at your obedience and straightened up. She raised her hand and brought it down on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint behind.

“Count them for me, darling.”

“One…” She hummed again, satisfied with your response. She continued her onslaught of smacks, each one harder than the last. By the time she reached ten, your skin was red and sensitive, stinging from her touch. Tears had managed to escape your eyes and your breathing was ragged.

She rubbed her hands over your stinging cheeks, admiring her handiwork. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lower back, her lips gently brushing against your skin.

“You did so well, darling. You took your punishment so well for me…such a good girl.”

“T-thank you, professor…” you sniffled. She smiled against your skin, her hands still rubbing soothing circles into your flesh.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Maybe I should reward you…” You felt your own arousal pool down your thighs at the thought of what kind of reward she meant.

“A r-reward?” She chuckled as she noticed the way you were reacting, noticing the way you got wet at the mere thought of a reward.

“Mhm…you look like you really want one, honey.”

“P-please? I’ve been so good!”

“I know you have, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good little toy for me…” She hummed in agreement, her hands slowly moving from your ass to your folds, dipping her fingers in your wetness. You shuddered at her touch, moaning as she spread your juices all over your lips. She smirked at the sound of your moans, enjoying the way your body reacted to her every touch. She circled your clit with her thumb, teasing you as she spoke.

“Look at you, so desperate and needy. You really do want a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I need it!” She chuckled darkly, continuing to toy with your sensitive bundle of nerves as she spoke. She leaned closer to your ear, her voice a low whisper.

“Yeah? You need it? You need your professor to fuck you senseless?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Her smirk widened at your desperate pleas.

“Such a good girl…” She removed her hand from your cunt, bringing it up to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” You opened your mouth almost immediately, allowing her to slide her arousal coated fingers inside. She pushed her fingers into your mouth, her eyes darkening as she watched you suck on them.

“That’s it, pet. Taste yourself for me…” She pulled them out slowly, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. She then roughly pulled your head back by your hair and crashed her lips against yours. You moaned shamelessly against her lips. She kissed you passionately, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth again as she held you in place all while tasting you as well.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined.” That made you even wetter. The fact that she’d been thinking about you as much as you made you feel warm inside.

She could tell that you were getting even more turned on by her words, and she loved it. She knew just how to push your buttons and make you squirm for her. She pulled away from the kiss, a grin on her face as she looked at you with hungry eyes.

“You’re so responsive, darling. It’s adorable.” You gasped loudly when she slipped her fingers inside you without warning, thrusting them in and out without letting you adjust. She chuckled at your reaction, enjoying the way you gasped and moaned for her. She started to pump her fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. You’re so tight, sweetheart…”

“Thank- thank you!” you stuttered out, overwhelmed with pleasure. She hummed in amusement, enjoying the way you were struggling to form coherent sentences.

“Such a polite little toy…I love how easily you unravel under me…”

“Only- fuck- only for you, professor!” She smiled, her fingers continuing to move inside you at a relentless pace. She leaned down and began kissing and biting your neck, leaving marks all over your skin.

“That’s right, only for me. You belong to me, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes! I belong to you!” You panted out. She let out a low growl against your neck, her possessive nature coming out.

“Good girl…now cum for me. Cum for your professor…” her mouth soon joined her finger, sucking mercilessly at your clit, sending you over the edge. You had to bite down on your hand to withhold the loud moan that almost left your lips as you came. Mostly everyone was gone but there were still janitors and such. You didn’t want to get caught.

She kept her mouth on you, helping you ride out your orgasm. She smirked against your skin, amused by your attempts to be quiet.

“Oh, pet…you’re trying so hard to be quiet, but I can see how much you’re struggling.”

“It felt so- so good…” you muttered, tiredly. She pulled her fingers out of you and licked them clean, looking at you with a satisfied expression.

“I know, hon. You did so well for me…” she reached down and pulled your panties back up. She gently patted your thigh once your panties were back in place, her eyes raking over your body with a possessive gleam.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up. We can’t have you walking around with cum on your thighs, can we?”

“Mhmm…” you hummed, too fucked out to form real words. She chuckled and picked you up, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom in her office.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this, all dazed and fucked out.” She placed you on the sink countertop and used a wet cloth to wipe down your inner thighs. She was gentle as she cleaned you up, making sure to remove any evidence of your encounter. She smirked as she looked at your face, noticing how you were still coming down from your high.

“There we go, all clean and presentable again.”

“Are you changing my test grade?” You asked shyly. She chuckled and shook her head, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at her.

“Well, of course. We made a deal and you even got a reward out of it. Now, run along. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression.”

“Yes, ma’am.” you hopped off the counter and almost ran out of her office. Did that really just happen? Did you let your professor fuck you senseless? God, you were a mess.

She watched you leave, a satisfied smirk on her face. She chuckled to herself as she sat down at her desk, picking up a pen and grading papers as if nothing had happened.

“See you in class, pet.”

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713

#fanfic #smut #agatha harkness #x reader #agatha all along #request #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #dark!agatha

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chimivx · 7 months ago

Text

“…i want you, bless my soul…”

Four months.

You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.

Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.

What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-

He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.

After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.

Did he own any clothes that fit?

It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.

Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.

It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.

Damn.

Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.

He noticed.

He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.

Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.

It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.

By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.

You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.

Nose in phone, nose in phone.

It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-

“Did you do the homework?”

Great.

You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.

“I, uh, yeah, I did.”

If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”

Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.

Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.

He asked you a question.

He talked to you.

Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?

No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.

The girlfriend that he-

“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?

Oh god.

What if he knows?

You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.

Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.

Oh, he definitely knew.

And so it began.

For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.

He was funny.

Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.

He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.

Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.

But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.

Month four.

Four months was all it took, and he was yours.

Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.

By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.

“I knew.”

#kim mingyu #seventeen #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #college!seventeen #seventeen x y/n #college mingyu #campus crush #tswift song challengeee #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #a lil somethin to fuel the juices

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

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hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t.

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of.

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own.

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface.

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You.

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway.

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer.

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth.

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look.

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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misojunnie · 2 years ago

Text

CHERRY ─ psh. ❀

a lollipop a day keeps park sunghoon away…

# genre: outcast!sunghoon x class prez!fem!reader, enemies to lover, slow burn, high school au, 90’s au

# warnings: insults, minor violence, substances/partying, cursing, lil makeout sesh, minor bullying, portrays some idols in a bad light; inaccurate and not how I view them!

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + txt + aespa

# playlist: not for sale by enhypen, still into you by paramore, chaser by woodz, high school sweethearts by melanie martinez

# a/n: hi guys!!! it’s insane that the cherry teaser got so many likes omg. ty guys so much!! plz enjoy <3 (dont let this flop)

# word count: 13.1k

# taglist: @alicesolengg @ningngyu @ramenoil @simjakeissohot @skzenhalove @parkhonnie @denleave1088 @voidbeomgyu @ilymarkchan @everyoneluvscheol @haerinpham @fakeuwus @chesh1re-cat @advesperamz @papiibuprofen @loveliii @cutiejseong @luvyouchuu @hancafe @aeminju @chaerybae @b1ndignity @edilysoob @river-06 @fariylixie0915 @amortenha @hoonpalettes @asyleums @moonmoongi @jyndre @parksunghoonsgf @whippedforbeomgyu @dianzed @soobliss-blog @manooffline @iscocohere @saythenameseventeen178 @woniewonn @luv4cheol @tinylittlebuggi @h-hazwie @ddazed-lhs @enhacolor @hiqhkey @webqrl @ilovewonyo @aesunghoon @hanienie @jrjr289

it isn’t a well disguised fact that park sunghoon doesn’t like you–no, hate would be a better word. park sunghoon hates you, and he makes it clear to everyone who knows him. but when you leave him a different flavored lollipop every day, it gets a little harder to loathe you.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 - chapter i.

Park Sunghoon finds solace in the fact that he annoys you.

He isn’t sure he truly does, as you’re quite adept at keeping your face blank when something pisses you off. But for a moment, that bright, customer-service smile slips, and the left corner of your lip twitches when he sneers at you from across the room. That’s how he likes it. He likes that he has an effect on you, negative or otherwise, although it was always the former.

“You need to let it go.” Jake sighed as he watched Sunghoon’s eyes follow you across the room when you stand to pass out the second semester chemistry syllabus. “I don’t even understand why you don’t like her."

“How could you not?” he phrased his question like a statement.

“Well, first of all, she’s my math tutor.” Jake says, smacking the top of his best friend’s head with a rolled up spiral notebook, crumpling his notes. “So I have to get along with her. And second of all, she makes it pretty easy considering she’s such a catch.” Sunghoon groaned in annoyance, a petulant frown on his pretty face.

“God, you’re so brainless.” Sunghoon whined. “You’re just another one of the idiots completely infatuated with her.”

Well, why wouldn’t he be? You’re the president of the school council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best writer. It’s an intricate balancing act, and a wonder that you could keep it up on the daily.

“I’m not infatuated.” Jake said with an indignant hiss. “I just don’t hold stupid grudges– shit, she’s coming.” The Aussie cleared his throat and painted an enthusiastic and eager smile onto his face as you approached the boy’s shared table.

“Good morning.” you chirped, and Jake grinned in response. “Here’s the syllabus.” You passed a double sided sheet of paper to each of them, gently setting it down on the desk. It didn’t escape Sunghoon’s attention that his was wrapped up in a roll, a piece of tape closing the document into a cylinder. You sent him a soft smile, looking at him through your lashes, before backing away from the table and moving onto the next pair of students who were waiting to receive their assignment. Sunghoon rolled his eyes, hesitantly peeling off the strip of adhesive and unrolling the paper to reveal the object inside, Jake peering curiously over his shoulder in an attempt to see.

“God, she’s still at it.” Sunghoon groaned, reaching down to pick up a small lollipop, a vivid yellow and wrapped in a holographic piece of cellophane with a little red ribbon tying it closed. “I thought she might’ve stopped.”

“Dude, you’re so lucky.” Jake breathed enviously, and Sunghoon looked at him with distaste. “You know how many guys in this school would kill to get a lollipop from her?” Sunghoon ignored his best friend's implorations, unwrapping the treat and shoving it into his mouth.

Lemon. He hated lemon.

When he looked back to the front of the classroom, you were setting the remaining stack of papers on the teacher’s desk, peeking at Sunghoon’s reaction. You seemed somewhat pleased to see the boy sucking on the sweet you had left him, and you sent a bright smile in his direction. His eyes were drawn to your shirt, which was adorned with what he thought was a very tacky depiction of a dove and some hearts, and he inwardly grimaced. Apparently, it wasn’t too inward judging by the look on your face.

He smirked, lifting up his hand and subtly sending you a different kind of bird with his middle finger. Your smile dropped entirely, and you rubbed your lips together in annoyance, retreating to your desk with a mix of frustration and despondence. That made him very satisfied.

“Would it kill you to be nice for once?” Jake asked, a skeptical look on his face as he watched the entire encounter go down. Sunghoon shrugged, setting his hand down on his desk and strumming his slender fingers on the wooden surface.

“Probably.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Today was yet another failed attempt at making Park Sunghoon like you.

You had to admit, you weren’t entirely pleased with your lollipop arrangement, and by that, you meant that you hated it. Treating Sunghoon like a human being with real emotions was so hard when he was such a piece of shit. You let out an exhausted sigh, hopping onto the counter of the candy shop. Your best friend laughed at your theatrics, wiping his hand with a white rag and tossing you a packet of red licorice.

“What’s the problem?” Jungwon asked inquisitively as though he didn’t already know the answer. “Sunghoon again?” His tone was filled with pity, and you hated it. You rolled onto your stomach, ripping open the packaging and tucking one of the red ropes into your mouth with a heavy sigh, blinking twice hard, before frowning.

“He’s not budging.”

“That’s a shame. I’m almost out of lollipop flavors.” Jungwon tutted with disappointment, reaching into his pocket and removing his hand with a treat, barely able to hold back the anticipating grin on his face. He tossed it to you. “Or am I?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” you sighed, pocketing it. “I’m not sure how you keep coming up with more.” Your best friend simply shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Chef’s secret,” he smiled.

Jungwon had adored candy since you met him, but the only thing he adored more than eating candy was making candy. This came in handy during basically every holiday or romance related occasion. A handmade bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries, a box filled to the brim with toffee, or a lollipop. He liked lollipops the most. “Maybe you should stop with the lollipops. I’m down to my last vial 0f strawberry flavoring and our restock isn’t until next Monday.” he scrunched his nose up at the thought.

“What if he gets pissed off once I stop giving him them, and then he gets even meaner?” you wondered aloud. “What would I do then?”

“Um, report him to the principal?” Jungwon suggested, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you shot up into a sitting position.

“Absolutely not.” you hissed. “I have to beat him.” You raised your fist to the air, seething with vengeance. “I will make that pretty bastard like me, goddamn it.” This was it. Jungwon was convinced that you had finally gone ‘round the bend. A ringing sound resounded through the shop as someone pushed through the front door with a grin.

“Did someone say pretty bastard?” he said, arms held out playfully as he turned his nose up to the ceiling. You only pouted in response. “Awww, baby what’s wrong?” he asked, circling his hands around your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead while Jungwon stuck out his tongue.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” you dismissed the topic with a wave of your hand and a sigh. You knew very well that if Heeseung got word of the way Sunghoon was treating you, you’d have a dead body on your hands. “How was practice?”

“Pretty good. Coach says I’m doing well. Could get a scholarship.” He cuddled up to you, until something hard and spherical hit him in the face, and he gripped his nose with a groan, bending down to pick up the fallen object.

“No cuddling in the store.” Jungwon said, a hand on the door as he came back to the counter, a thin white stick protruding from his mouth. “It’ll scare the customers.”

“Likely.” Heeseung scoffed, yet he pulled the wrapper off the lollipop and shoved it in his mouth, swirling the sphere on his tongue. “You wanna go see that new movie, Ten Things I Hate About You? It’s playin’ tonight and Beomgyu said it’s good.” You laughed, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ sound, and tucking it between your own lips. Jungwon gagged on his lunch.

“I don’t trust any movie that Beomgyu says is good.”

“Ah, c’mon babe. It’ll be fun.” he said, returning his hands to your waist as you smiled. He had a way of making you smile even when you were at your lowest.

“Alright.” you caved, and he pumped his fist, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Glad you said yes, because I already bought tickets.” You chastised him, but he only laughed and grabbed your waist, lifting you off the counter like a sack of potatoes while you shrieked. “Thanks for the sucker, Won!”

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun!” he yelled after the two of you until you were out of sight, hopping into his old Dodge Viper with lovesick, giddy smiles on your faces. Then the boy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Pricks.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

“Red Vines.”

“Gotta be Charleston Chews.”

“Ew, no fucking way. Charleston Chews are just s'mores without the best part.” you scoffed, finger wagging in your boyfriend’s face as the exasperated teenage cashier watched you argue about your candy choices for the movie you were about to watch.

“I’ll let that go, because I love you.” he warned. “But Charleston Chews are the best candy.” Despite his protest, he reached for the Red Vines on the shelf and dropped them next to the cash register as he removed his wallet from his pocket.

“Thanks, baby.” you kissed him on the cheek, and he sent you a grin for the reward. “But they definitely taste like shit.” you said cheekily, and he smacked you lightly on the top of the head, before grabbing your Red Vines and pulling you away.

“I’ll get you back for that.” He teased, and you stuck your tongue out. “Oh shit, I left my Coke at the register.” You laughed at his blatant forgetfulness as he smacked himself in the forehead. “Go, hurry. I’ll wait here.” He darted out the exit, excusing himself and apologizing as he ran past a pair entering the theater, almost knocking their popcorn out of their hands. “Where’s he off to in a rush?” one of them asked incredulously, the other mumbling incoherent responses as they seated themselves. Great, the teenage cynics who apparently had a grudge against your boyfriend were sitting right next to you.

“Heeseung’s really been busy lately.” one said, and your ears perked up at their use of his name. “With scholarships, and all that. Must be hella tired.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t exactly place who it belonged to.

“Yeah, as if.” another scoffed. “He’s probably busy making out with his fuckface girlfriend.” Your eye twitched.

“C’mon, don’t be mean. What’s she ever done to you?’ another said.

“She’s awful. You’re so gullible.” the same disparaging voice said, and you huffed. You recognized that drawl, you had heard it somewhere but you weren’t sure where. “Heeseung’s an idiot. The both of them can go to hell.” Enough was enough. You stood, reaching over to the cynical boy sitting directly next to you and grabbed the front of his shirt, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his shock.

“You got something to say about me and my boyfriend?” you hissed.

“Have you had your break today? We all need to get away, there’s one place that’s on your way,” the jolly actors sang as the screen suddenly lit up with an advertisement, the lights turning on and revealing the boy before you.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon asked incredulously, and you grit your teeth. He got a reaction out of you. You had completely played yourself.

Despite your instant regret, you continued to grip on his shirt. “Park Sunghoon.”

“What are you doing here?” he hissed under his breath, and your eyes darted to Jake, sitting beside him. He looked utterly stunned. He had never seen you react to Sunghoon’s tauntings before; even Sunghoon never had the pleasure of seeing you burst out in a properly angry reaction.

“Seeing a movie with my boyfriend.” you muttered. Sunghoon didn’t respond, and you thought this might be the first time you had seen him off guard.

You dropped his shirt, letting him plop back down onto the cushioned seat.

You had seriously messed up. Sunghoon was never supposed to see you angry, more than anyone. You were about to do some damage control when Heeseung strode straight through the swinging doors with a box of Charleston Chews and a plastic cup of Coke so large it looked like it could cause diabetes immediately upon consumption.

Heeseung always had incredibly bad timing.

“Hey baby.” he slid into the seat next to you, pecking a kiss onto your cheek. He coughed on his soda pop when he saw the pair staring at him, seated directly next to you, one boy looking at him like he had just ran over his cat. “Oh, hey guys. Jake,” he said, nodding to the older boy of the two. “How’s varsity tryouts?”

“Going good.” Jake said meekly. The two were acquainted from their time on the rugby team, yet Jake suddenly felt extremely intimidated by the older boy. You said nothing, leaning back in your seat with a perturbed look on your face.

Once you and Heeseung finally struck up a conversation, Jake leaned in and grabbed the front of Sunghoon’s shirt with an extremely stressed expression.

“Are you trying to get us killed?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Sunghoon snapped, not sounding sorry at all. “Christ, you really had to book the seats right next to Jack and Joan Sprat?”

“I didn’t know they’d be sitting there.” Jake said through gritted teeth, and it was easy to see that the poor boy was at his breaking point. “I would just like to get through this movie peacefully.” he rubbed his temples, expecting protest. But to Jake’s surprise, the boy didn’t complain. He was much too busy staring at you. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah, I got it.” the boy rolled his eyes, turning away. Jake looked at him in a double take, shocked at the boy’s compliancy, but pleasantly surprised.

Maybe this would be a nice trip to the theater after all.

Of course, nothing could be peaceful when you and Sunghoon were in the same room together. The tension was undeniable, even to your oblivious boyfriend.

Safe to say you only registered about half of the movie.

Not to say that the film wasn’t engrossing. In fact, you were beginning to seriously enjoy it. Sunghoon, however, was enjoying the movie a bit less than you were.

“This is so fucking stupid.” he muttered to Jake as the main characters bickered on screen. “This would never happen in real life.”

“That’s why it’s a movie, dumbass. Now can you shut up? You’re seriously bumming me out.” Jake snapped back, slapping the back of Sunghoon’s head. Sunghoon reached over to retaliate, knocking his cup of Sprite over in the process, spilling the entire contents of the plastic container directly onto your skirt. You squealed, and Heeseung cursed, pulling you up as he dug in his pockets for napkins. You glared at Sunghoon and saw that he looked rather surprised at his own action, and for a moment you doubted if he did it on purpose. But then the look of shock shifted into one of satisfaction, and you chose to not give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Gosh, I’m sorry.” Sunghoon said in a way that told you he wasn’t sorry at all.

“That’s one hell of a mess.” Heeseung kissed his teeth, attempting to use the napkins to clean off your skirt, but the people behind you began to boo at your obstruction of their view. “Alright people, Jesus. We’re moving.” He took your hand and pulled you back down, still attempting to dry you off. While you greatly appreciated the effort, it was doing practically nothing to help.

“It’s okay, Hee.” you said, pushing his hands off with a tight smile. “It’ll dry.” You sighed, reaching for the box of Charleston Chews. You didn’t even like this stupid candy, but you needed something sweet to calm your temper or you were going to kill someone. Your hand exited the box covered in melted chocolate, and you threw your head back in displeasure. But suddenly, an idea struck you.

The sacrifice of your boyfriend's candy was worth it.

You sloppily upturned the box into Sunghoon’s lap, the half-melted chocolate slipping onto his light tan pants as he inhaled sharply, his lip pulled between his teeth.

“Whoops.” you said with a smile, turning back to the screen.

Sure, you were done being nice to Park Sunghoon. But you still tucked a sucker into his pocket, hoping he would find it on his way home and at least have some kind of consolation for his ruined trousers.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Sunghoon collapsed onto his bed, reaching under his bed frame for something beneath. When his hand emerged, it held a dark green spiral notebook, with a pencil held by a strap of elastic. He swirled the lollipop around his mouth, thinking carefully for a few moments before flipping to the next open page on his notebook.

“June 15th, 1999… Strawberry… cheesecake…” He mused under his breath as he jotted it down on the lined paper, biting the inside of his left cheek with furrowed brows. “Maybe just strawberry cream?” he thought to himself, biting the end of his pencil before shaking his head. “Had to be cheesecake.” He surely sounded insane to anyone who was listening from the outside, yet this was a nightly routine for the teen, notebook and pencil in hand as he pondered the flavor of the day.

He had tasted birthday cake, banana split, bubblegum, gingerbread, black licorice, pina colada, pretty much any flavor that even Willy Wonka himself could come up with. He thought he might’ve had every lollipop flavor in the universe, and the pages of his notebook had become worn with your endless supply of sugary treats.

However, he did find it odd that you had never given him cherry before.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 - chapter ii.

There was something you had never told anyone. Not to Heeseung, not even to Jungwon, and you told him just about everything, maybe too much. No, this secret went untold, and you planned to take it with you to your grave.

Park Sunghoon was your first love.

It’s not like he ever loved you back. This was your freshman year of high school, the first time you met the young charmer, who at the time was wide eyed and raven haired, quiet and not very conversational. At the ripe age of 14, he wasn’t fully comfortable in his skin yet, not making many friends and focusing on building his figure skating career rather than on his grades. He was nerdy, he was awkward, and he was always alone in the cafeteria, picking absentmindedly at his food while he daydreamed.

He was beautiful. You found yourself unable to look away.

Even in your freshman year, rising up the school hierarchy wasn’t difficult. You joined the school council in your first week at Decelis High, easily acquiring the vice president position once election day came around, leading you to take the president position eventually. You started writing in the newspaper club in your second month of high school, your teachers recognizing your potential and promoting you to head editor as well as a journalist, and students immediately began to respect your brave commentary on the school’s weak ethics and poor handling of their students. School was improved when you joined, and the student body found that their day brightened up when you walked down the hall with your signature smile.

Which is why it was odd that you fell hopelessly head over heels for a quiet boy who interacted with no one and didn’t speak unless spoken to, head perpetually in the clouds. And despite your undeniable popularity, he never paid a lick of attention to you.

It took until your junior year for him to even speak to you. When his head wasn’t somewhere over the rainbow, he was focusing on skating, skipping classes to run to the rink for a quick session with his trainer. And when he wasn’t skating, he was playing soccer. Through the rose tinted lenses of love, you thought he was an excellent player, but supposedly his coach didn’t agree. He was benched for nearly all his games.

You never told him you had feelings for him, but the closest you came was when you showed up to the soccer game he was playing in with a button on your shirt that said “Go Sunghoon!”. You cheered for him the entire time, even if the only reason he was playing was because Kang Taehyun had sprained his ankle.

Sunghoon scored one goal, but the more experienced player had sucked up the pain and decided to jump into the game last-minute, scoring the winning goal and sending the audience into a frenzy like they had just won the olympics and not an amateur high school soccer game. The team picked up Taehyun on their backs and ran around the field toting him on their shoulders like a trophy, and poor Sunghoon was left on the bench with a frown, wishing that he could’ve been the one on their shoulders being celebrated. You felt so bad for him that you stood up, cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled for his attention, garnering weird stares from those next to you, but you didn’t care. When you yelled his name with a cheer, he looked up into the stands and sent you the most luminous smile you had ever seen, one that could’ve made the sun itself envious of his radiance.

Which is why it confused you when he hated your guts less than a year later.

You never really understood why Sunghoon disliked you. It was a mystery, not only to you, but to everyone who knew about it, even Jungwon, who had seen more ugly and intolerable sides of you than anyone. Nobody really knew why Park Sunghoon despised you, so they just stopped trying to figure out why.

But not you. You needed to know why he didn’t like you, why the boy who you loved so dearly ended up hating you so much he was spiteful at your mere existence.

Your first memory of Sunghoon was the first day of high school, when he came through the school gates with a big, red sucker in his mouth and an overwhelmed look on his face. So you decided lollipops were the best way to win him over.

But with every canned stick of orange creamsicle, every discarded cotton candy and crushed lemonade, your feelings slowly left you until the love you once felt for the boy disappeared as he left his tally on your heart, then faded into nothing.

Then you met Heeseung. On January 1st, just as the clock struck midnight at Choi Yeonjun’s New Years party, he asked you to be his girlfriend. And suddenly, you didn’t really care if Sunghoon loved you back or not.

But you never stopped wanting him to like you.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You were entirely done with being nice to Park Sunghoon. After nearly a year of being treated like the scum on the bottom of his shoes, you weren’t afraid of him anymore, you weren’t afraid of showing him how truly done you were. But Jungwon still had buckets full of lollipops left for you, so you supposed the lollipop charade could go on for a bit longer.

You still didn’t like him though. That’s what you told yourself.

“She’s acting differently.” Sunghoon scrunched his eyes into scrutinizing crescents as he watched you stride down the hallway nonchalantly. Just a moment previously, you had met his eyes while you walked, textbook clutched to your chest, and rather than sending him a joyous smile or a wave, you ignored him as though he wasn’t even there, which shocked him thoroughly.

Plus, it was the fourth period and you hadn’t even given him a lollipop yet.

“You’re just salty that she poured her Charleston Chews on you. You’re imagining it.” Jake scoffed, eyes attached to his book, scanning over every word.

“No, you don’t get it.” Sunghoon huffed exasperatedly, arms crossed as he watched you saunter to Heeseung’s side and allow him to pull you into his embrace. “She’s never ignored me like this before. She doesn’t just… look away.”

“So she doesn’t like you anymore. Big deal.” Jake shrugged, but Sunghoon seemed rather upset by this sudden change of events. “You fumbled the bag, that’s all.” Sunghoon’s eyes shot to his shorter companion as they narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon, dude. You had y/n y/l/n, the ultimate sweetheart of Decelis High, practically begging for your attention, and you were nothing but mean to her. I mean, anyone would want to be in your place. Of course she’s sick of you.”

“Yeah but-”

“But nothing.” Jake punched Sunghoon’s arm, putting a soft dent in the fabric of his puffy jacket, and the weaker of the two winced. “You were fucking bogus.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Sunghoon snapped, swatting Jake’s hand away with a scowl. “I was a loser.” When Jake nodded, affirming Sunghoon’s self-diss, he sent him a glare. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Nothing, bro. Just move on and stop being such a dick.” Jake shrugged, walking away with his nose still buried in his book, leaving Sunghoon to think. Did he really care if you didn’t like him anymore? Would it be so bad for you to continue to ignore him?

The answer was yes. Undeniably so, because he despised you, and it only brought him more joy to see you struggle. Sunghoon liked being catered to, and you had just taken away his greatest pleasure.

The game was on.

“Jake, it’s simple.”

“No, it’s not.” Jake rubbed his forehead frustratedly as you attempted to explain the permutation formula to him for the fortieth time that day. He was supposed to be good at math, at least that’s what Jay said, and Jay was almost always right. However, you realized after a few tutoring sessions that Jake was a bit less attentive in math class as his friend made him out to be. “Why is there an exclamation point?”

“The exclamation point is to demonstrate how you’re supposed to multiply the number by each number following it, consecutively.” Jake looked like you had just told him to grow wings and fly, and you took the paper from his hand with a small giggle. “Jesus, Jake. You look like you got three hours of sleep last night and your dog shit in your cereal.” He let out a chuckle.

“You’ve got half of that statement spot on.”

“I’m going to assume it’s the former.” you said playfully.

“You got it.” he sighed a second time.

“Wanna talk about it?” He huffed, like the mere memory of his stressors were enough to upset him even when they weren’t present.

“It’s nothing…” You knew it wasn’t nothing. “It’s just Sunghoon.”

Bingo.

“He’s so oblivious sometimes.” Jake said exasperatedly. “Although, most times I’m pretty sure he’s being dense on purpose.” You stared at him blankly and he rested his chin on his palm. “He’s so stubborn. I always tell him to just let things go, to move on, but he never listens.” You didn’t need an explanation to understand what he was talking about. “I don’t know. He’s just felt so negative recently. Especially today.”

“What’s so different about today?” you asked, elated that he was frustrated at your indifference, which wasn’t indifference at all judging by how much you cared.

“Nothing, for most of us.” the Aussie shrugged. “I suppose he’s just feeling a bit abandoned.” You raised an eyebrow, and Jake seemed to notice his misstep. “T-that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Sure.” you snorted, pulling the sheet of paper you were supposed to be attentively solving into your lap, flipping through your binder for the notes.

“Are you free on Saturday night?” Your eyebrows practically flew to your hairline.

“Depends on who’s asking, and why.”

“Yeonjun’s throwing a party.” You were very well aware of Choi Yeonjun, a freshman at Hybe University. Even after finally graduating a few months ago, his parties were a must for the top tier of Decelis’ elite students; namely the popular kids. You didn’t often frequent parties, but Heeseung and Yeonjun were quite close friends. You had never missed one of his parties, and you didn’t plan to break that record.

“I wasn’t aware.” you picked up a pencil and began scrawling, eyes on your lap.

“It’s a smaller thing than usual. Just some friends, and friends of friends. Maybe a few friends of friends of friends.” You allowed a smile to pass over your lips, and Jake smiled in success. “So you’ll come?”

“I’ve never missed a Choi party.” you shut your notebook and passed the completed homework back to its owner. “I’ll give you the answers, just for today.”

“You’re the best, y/n.” Jake grinned as you stood, holding your binder to your chest, smiling in response.

“I know. Oh, and Jake?” he tilted his head as you removed a green lollipop from the pocket of your pleated skirt, sliding it across the table until it came to a stop just before his hands. “Give this to Sunghoon.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Park Sunghoon was absolutely fuming.

Typically, when school was over, he’d come home, collapse on his bed, write down the lollipop of the day, and then firmly put you out of his mind. But today, for the first time, he found himself unable to do any of those things. He sat on his bed, staring at his wall silently. He was in a haze. He needed a distraction, asap.

When the doorbell rang, he ran downstairs in record time.

“Hit the brakes.” his little sister snapped as he dashed to the door, pulling it open, excited even to see the mailman. He was surprised to see his best friend on the other side, who gave him a sideways look.

“Your scowl is freaking me out.” Jake said, hands in his pockets as he strolled inside. Sunghoon closed the door behind him.

“Get used to it.” Sunghoon replied petulantly, and the two boys walked back up the stairs to Sunghoon’s room. “What brings you to my part of town?”

“I’ve got news.” Jake said, flopping down onto Sunghoon’s bed with a smug expression on his pretty face. “Oh, but before I forget.” Jake reached into the pocket of his blue jeans, removing a spherical object and tossing it in Sunghoon’s direction. The younger boy caught it, his face brightening subconsciously.

“Finally,” he rolled his eyes, unwrapping the lollipop and tucking it into the side of his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully.

“As I was saying I-” Sunghoon ignored Jake’s ramblings, ducking under his bed and reaching for the green notebook, rifling through the mess under his bed frame. Typically, he’d be too embarrassed to do this in front of company, but he couldn’t find it within him to care. “Did you hear about Yeonjun’s party this weekend?” Sunghoon ignored him, removing the lollipop from his mouth and shoving it towards Jake.

“Do you think this smells like apple?” he asked, and Jake swatted his hand away.

“Did you hear anything I just said? And I’m not putting my face anywhere near something that’s been in your mouth.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes again, turning his attention back to his notebook as Jake stared at him. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m listening.” Sunghoon waved him off, but Jake could swear he heard him muttering fruits under his breath.

“Yeonjun’s having a party this weekend.” he repeated, and Sunghoon looked at him blankly, finally putting his pen down.

“So what?” he scoffed. “You’ve never wanted to go to one of those parties before. They don’t want people like us there.” Jake narrowed his eyes.

“People like us? They’re fine with me, you’re the one they have a problem with.” Jake said, pressing his pointer finger into Sunghoon’s chest while the latter frowned. “In fact, I happen to have an invitation, considering me and Heeseung are friends.”

“I don’t want to go to any party that Heeseung is going to.” Sunghoon refused childishly, and Jake kissed his teeth.

“I don’t get what your issue with Heeseung is. Hating y/n was bad enough, but Heeseung is especially innocent.” Jake shook his head when his best friend opened his mouth to protest, slapping his hand over his mouth before he got the chance. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna hear it.” Sunghoon remained silent.

The two boys sat quietly for a moment, just looking at each other, both as stubborn as the next. Jake broke the silence, sighing exhaustedly.

“Will you just do this one thing for me? Please?” Sunghoon pursed his lips. On one hand, he hated partying. He wanted nothing to do with it. But on the other hand, Jake Sim was his best friend, and he loved this boy more than he loved himself. And he had been a pretty shitty friend recently.

And so, the boy with iron resolve, and an even stronger temper, nodded his head.

“Fine, but seriously, just this once.” he said, wagging his finger when Jake’s face broke out into an enormous smile as he leapt up from the bed. “Never again, okay?”

“Pinky promise!” Jake said, running out the door and down the stairs, slamming the front door behind him as Sunghoon shook his head.

What had he gotten himself into?

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iii.

Park Sunghoon had a confession. It was one that he hadn’t told anybody. Not his family, not his friends, not even Jake, who he told nearly everything. No, this was a true secret. One that was bursting at the seams, that he desperately wanted to confess.

You were his first love.

Well, he assumed you were. He had no idea what love was; he was only fourteen at the time. But it felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest when you didn’t meet his gaze, and it felt like he was on cloud nine when he spotted you staring.

Sunghoon wasn’t one to make many friends. He wasn’t a social creature. He couldn’t say that was how he liked it, because he wasn’t necessarily sure that was true. He didn’t know if he liked to be alone, or if that was just how it had always been. But that changed when he met you.

For once, he found himself wanting to be around someone. The minute he laid eyes on you, he fell head over heels. You were everything he wasn’t. He knew he was in love with you when a junior tried shoving Jake into a locker and you punched him in the face. Even Sunghoon didn’t have the courage to stand up for Jake like that.

Sunghoon admired everything about you, but he knew you could never care about him. You were president of the student council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best journalist. You tutored, you played multiple instruments. You liked being around people. You were brave and righteous. You were everything he wished he was. Why would you like him? He was just a loser who skipped class to skate and wished he had a little more courage.

But sometimes, he saw a little glimmer of hope for the two of you. When you came to his soccer game and only cheered for him, when you lent him your favorite pencil, when you left a note on his desk saying you liked his diorama the best. Sometimes he even thought that he could be with you if he finally followed his heart.

The only issue? Lee Heeseung.

Captain of the varsity rugby team, runner up for valedictorian, king bee of the school. He was loved by everyone. He had more friends than he could count, and the same for his admirers. When he wanted something, he got it. Sunghoon supposed you counted for that as well. It was obvious that he had a crush on you. Everyone knew you and Heeseung would date eventually, even Sunghoon.

Sunghoon had never fought for anything in his life, but for once, he was willing to fight for you. Until something happened that changed his perspective of you completely, something that made him despise you so much, he could barely contain it. Nobody knew what changed, but one day, Sunghoon dedicated his life to hating you.

You had no idea why.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Jungwon thought he could find out something about your past with Sunghoon if he sleuthed hard enough, but he was finding it more difficult than imagined.

He had checked the records in the principal's office —with the cover story that he was doing an investigative report— three times over, and he had yielded nothing. He asked nearly everyone he knew for any kind of background information. He even checked with the newspaper department, hoping they had some kind of trashy gossip if nothing else. Most of what he heard was entirely useless, consisting of people trash talking Sunghoon and hyping you up entirely too much. Jungwon thought they’d reconsider their words after witnessing you on a bad day.

He sighed frustratedly, collapsing into the principal’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. Absolutely nothing.

He cocked his head when the door unlatched, slowly creaking open no more than an inch or two. A sneakered foot snuck its way inside, the rest of the intruder following, letting out a yelp when he saw Jungwon sitting skeptically in the center of the room.

“What are you doing here?” Jake said, a hand on his chest as he exhaled rapidly.

“What are you doing here?” Jungwon repeated his question back at him. Jake and Jungwon were mostly ambivalent towards each other, but there was always some distaste. After all, they were the best friends of mortal enemies.

“I…” Jake stared at him blankly. “I’m checking the records.”

“What a coincidence. So am I.” The two boys sized each other up, wondering if they might be there for the same reason.

There was no way.

“How’d you get in?” Jake said after a beat.

“Front door.” Jungwon replied, and the older boy frowned.

“Yeah, I gathered that. I mean, what did you tell administration to get in here?”

“I told them, ‘I want to check the school records.’” Jake shook his head, reaching for the desk containing the files of all the information on every student.

“Are you kidding me? Administration would rather die than let me in here.” Jake sorted through the files. He paused, frowned, then thumbed back and forth for a moment before straightening up and crossing his arms. His eyes widened when he saw the missing file he sought splayed out on the desk, just underneath Jungwon's shoes. “Why were you looking at Sunghoon’s personal file?” Jake said with an accusatory tone, and Jungwon paled, snatching it off the desk and tucking it away into his jacket.

“You’re imagining things.” he said quickly, and Jake rolled his eyes, turning back to the file cabinet. He removed your file, looking at Jungwon pointedly.

“Are you here for the same reason I am?” he asked. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they were both certain they had the same goal.

Jungwon nodded slowly. “I think so, yeah.”

“You want to find out what happened with Sunghoon and y/n, don’t you?” Jake asked, and Jungwon averted his eyes sheepishly. There was a moment of silence before the two boys broke into laughter. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jungwon smiled, crossing his arms. “Let’s work together.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Sunghoon was having a horrible day.

Most of Sunghoon’s days were below average, simply because he didn’t often feel like having fun. But that day, he had woken up with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a furrow between his brows. That day was going to be a horrible day, and he knew it even at 6:45 am when the snooze button on his alarm stopped working.

He got to school with no bad occurrences, almost forgetting what was making him so upset. But when he saw you and Lee Heeseung, his lips on your neck, he suddenly remembered.

It gave him momentarily relief when he recalled the apple sucker from yesterday, but when he caught himself smiling, his mood only soured further.

“Morning, sunshine!” Jake chirped, attacking from behind and ruffling Sunghoon’s hair cheerily. Sunghoon glanced back to give him a glare, attempting to repair the damage Jake had done to his hairdo.

“You seem awfully jolly this morning,” he said gruffly.

“I don’t know. Something good is in the air this morning.” Jake hummed, hands in his pockets and a significant spring in his step.

He couldn’t very well admit that he was orchestrating an entire plan to get you and Sunghoon alone together so you’d finally resolve your issues. And he definitely couldn’t mention that he was plotting in cahoots with your best friend.

“Yeah, right.” Sunghoon scoffed.

“I’m assuming that —once again— you’ve chosen to have a bad attitude today?” Jake asked rhetorically. He already knew the answer. He knew his best friend well enough to decipher when he was upset, although it was easy enough that anyone could probably tell; Sunghoon was in an awful mood on most days.

“It’s not something I choose.” Sunghoon scoffed, still messing with his hair.

“Sure it isn’t.” Jake said sardonically, punching him in the shoulder as Sunghoon glared, rubbing the sore area. “Don’t be a- oh hey!” Sunghoon whirled around at his best friend’s sudden topic switch to see you dashing past. “Hey, did you do the chemistry homework last night?”

“Of course I did.” you scoffed. “I’m assuming you didn’t?”

“Clearly you know me well. No chance I could get the notes off of you?”

“No chance, sorry Jake.” you laughed like the tinkling of bells. “But who knows, I might pass you the answer sheet while the teacher isn’t looking.”

“You’re the best!” he grinned as you saluted playfully. Your joyous facade faded for a moment when your gaze locked with Sunghoon’s briefly. You searched his face for any sign that he had received your gift, but his stoic glare firmly remained. You held back the urge to roll your eyes, turning on your heel.

Your lack of a response only made Sunghoon more upset. He was scowling hotly, so much so, that it was certain you could fry an egg on his head.

“She’s such a pretender. Can you fucking believe that?” You heard him scoff just before you left, an accusatory hand pointing in your direction. Jake cocked his head, and Sunghoon’s scowl deepened. “She didn’t even acknowledge that I was here!”

“Why should she?” Jake laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets and walking away as Sunghoon froze on the spot, practically shaking with rage.

Oh, you were going to regret ignoring him.

It almost made Sunghoon sick to think about how much he used to like you.

He thought of all the times he had written your name in his notebook surrounded by hearts and little angel wings. All the times he wished he could bring you flowers, or tell you how he felt. All the times he watched Heeseung sweep you off your feet, and felt bitter resent in his throat. For the first time in his miserable 14 years, he was certain he was in love. It was a bit far-fetched, considering he had only spoken to you once or twice. He didn’t know if he had ever had a full conversation with you.

What was it all for? Why did the girl he loved have to hurt him so bad?

It made him think that life wasn’t very fair. That people were egocentric, they didn’t consider others feelings. He was pathetic, he knew that. He should let it go, forget about what happened between the two of you and move on. He had his own life, you had yours. His existence shouldn’t center around the hatred of another human being.

Maybe hating you was an escape. Maybe he hated you because he couldn’t handle the thought of loving you anymore.

The line between hate and love was very fine. Even he knew that.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You really didn’t want to go to this party. The more you thought about it, the more you felt sick to your stomach.

After the week you had, drinking with a bunch of teenagers sounded like the last thing you wanted to do. Even being around your friends and boyfriend sounded deeply unappealing; for the first time you could remember, you just wanted to be alone. But you knew this was important to your clique, and so you sucked it up, brushing the dust off the front of your party dress and turning around to your friends.

Ningning and Karina sat on the bed, on their phones. Ningning was dressed in an orange tube top dress, Karina wearing an identical one in purple. Neither of them noticed you until you cleared your throat, and they fawned over your dress.

They were your friends, supposedly. You liked them well enough, and they seemed to like you the same. They were sweet girls, but you didn’t really connect. The only reason you were friends was because you were popular, and so were they. You were living in a dog-eat-dog world, where popular girls became friends with each other to avoid making enemies. You wished it wasn’t like that, and you had a feeling they did too.

Yeonjun walked into the room with a big, cheesy grin on his face, toting your boyfriend behind him. Further back were Beomgyu, Huening Kai, Taehyun, and Soobin, the rest of your boyfriend's older friends. See also: people you didn’t really connect with.

“Are you girls ready?” Yeonjun asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the group crowded in. Heeseung came from the back of the procession to take your hands, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You sighed as the others engaged in conversation.

Heeseung frowned. “You okay? You usually love Yeonjun’s parties.” You brushed some stray hair out of your face and painted on a smile.

“I’m fine, Hee. Thanks for looking out for me.” you said. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, adjusting your necklace so the clasp was aligned with the nape of your neck.

“Anytime you wanna leave, just say the word. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” You held his hand with a smile.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Just have fun.” you ushered him towards his friends, and he gave you a brief look before he went to join them. The crowd filed out of the bedroom and into the living room, ready to party.

You sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment and taking a deep breath to relax yourself. You had no idea why you were so nervous. You had done this a million times around. You knew the party scene like the back of your hand, it was the life you had been living for the past four years.

You stared at the pink dress you were wearing. It was your favorite dress, yet somehow it didn’t feel good anymore. The lamp from the ceiling shone on your necklace, the bright, diamond letter H catching the light.

Usually, you tried not to let Sunghoon get to you. He was just a jealous, rude, idiot who wanted to bring you down for no reason. But today, his words reverberated in your head, ringing painfully, no matter how hard you tried to get them out.

She’s such a pretender.

It made you wonder, was he right? Were you putting on a show for everyone but you? You had played your role so well, you had almost fooled yourself.

Sometimes you got tired of being perfect. You got tired of keeping up your facade all the time. You almost lost yourself in the process.

Maybe Sunghoon was right. Maybe you were a pretender. Maybe hating you meant that he was the only one who really understood you.

And maybe that was a good enough reason to hate him a little less.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iv.

“For the record, I am not happy about this.” Sunghoon said for what must’ve been the millionth time that night. Jake had forced him into a button up and combed his hair, in comparison to his usual overgrown bangs and old band tee. He cleaned up nice, but the boy’s foul expression was enough to drive off any prospective attention.

“Tough luck.” Jake said, adjusting his chain as he smiled charmingly at himself in the mirror. “It’s one party. You’ll be fine.” Sunghoon continued to grumble.

He wasn’t used to seeing himself done up nicely. He felt too vulnerable without his long bangs hiding his eyes and a hoodie to cover himself up. It didn’t feel right to see himself fixed up like this, but he kept telling himself that it was only once, for Jake.

Jake looked down at the watch on his wrist, a string of curses leaving his lips.

“Shit, Sunghoon, we gotta go. We’re late.” he grabbed his jacket off the coat rack, dashing out the door while Sunghoon dragged his feet behind him.

“We’re fashionably late.” the younger boy corrected, Jake turning around to give him an impatient look, nodding his head towards his car.

“We’re gonna miss all the fun, c’mon.” Sunghoon frowned.

“What a shame.” he mumbled under his breath, following his best friend into the car and praying that this night would go well, and without conflict.

That was wishful thinking.

Sunghoon instantly knew he was right when they pulled up into Yeonjun’s driveway. He could hear the music pumping from inside the house, so loud it made his ears ache. He could see the crowds of people through the enormous glass windows, and grimaced at the idea of being among the masses of sweaty bodies. Jake however, seemed delighted, and so Sunghoon tried to put a smile on his face.

Jake turned off the ignition, leaning over to his best friend and studying the blank look on his face. “Ready?” he asked, and Sunghoon nodded with an exasperated sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the car door behind him. Jake rolled his eyes.

“This is going to be a nightmare.” Sunghoon said, unable to hold back a quip. Jake patted him on the shoulder, ringing the doorbell with a grin.

“Let’s see if you can last the whole night.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

It had only been an hour and your head was already pounding.

All the lights felt too bright, the music was too loud, and too many people were trying to talk to you. After having your crisis of self merely 60 minutes previous, you were definitely not in the mood to make conversation with anyone. You downed your third vodka soda of the night and felt everything get a little hazier. You were satisfied when the sound got a little quieter and the lights became less harsh.

Toting your fourth drink in hand, you dropped down to the couch. Most people were busy dancing, thank God, and the only people on the couch was a girl vomiting in Yeonjun’s best porcelain vase and her friend coaxing it out of her. You didn’t mind it too much. At this point, you were craving some humanity.

You felt a little at ease when Jay sat beside you, smiling in greeting. Jay was pretty much the only one of Heeseung’s friends whom you actually liked.

“How’s the night going?” you asked, sipping on the red cup in your hand.

“It’s alright.” he said, his words slurred as he rubbed his nose. It was clear that he had more than a few drinks, probably a couple past his capacity. “Your friend- what’s her name? Tried talking to me earlier.” You didn’t bother to inquire. “Ning? Ningning?” he laughed to himself. He was obviously drunk, so you took another sip and ignored his ramblings. Even the most sensible of people were insufferable to you at the moment.

He sniffled briefly, and you studied his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he poked his tongue into the flesh of his left cheek thoughtfully.

“Hey,” he suddenly said, looking at you very seriously. “I’m really sorry about that Sunghoon thing, y’know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and it’s really been bothering me.” You furrowed your brows.

“What Sunghoon thing?” you said, and his jaw dropped open, laughing drunkenly as he covered his mouth. Clearly he had said something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Oops, did Heeseung never tell you?” he said, trying to backtrack. “Oh, we just fucked with Sunghoon a little in sophomore year. You know, back before you and Heeseung started dating.” An awful feeling crept into your insides as you stared at him relentlessly until he finally continued. “We, uh, we just wrote him a letter or something like that.”

“What did it say?” you demanded.

“Oh, you know.” he said for the thousandth time, and you were beginning to lose your patience. He took a swig of your drink to loosen his tongue. Jay knew he shouldn’t be the one to tell you about this, but his conscience was pressing him to continue, and so he did. “We just said some mean stuff, called him a freak. Told him to stay away from you. It was Heeseung’s idea, really.”

You felt a pit in your stomach. You felt so sick, you didn’t even have the capacity to register the anger bubbling up in your throat. Why would your boyfriend do this? What had Sunghoon ever done to him?

You didn’t even notice that you were defending Sunghoon over Heeseung.

“Why would you do that?” you asked blankly, and Jay stood up quickly, stumbling drunkenly as he almost lost his balance. He sensed that he said something he shouldn’t, and if he kept drunkenly blabbering, Heeseung would definitely kick his ass for it sooner or later.

“Uh, you should ask Heeseung about t-this.” he stuttered, evading before you got angry. He had never seen you upset before. Nobody had, with the exception of one.

You stood from the couch, downing the remainder of your drink, feeling the alcohol leave a burning trail down your throat before you tossed the cup to the side.

You had to find your boyfriend.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Dear Sunghoon,

I know you have a crush on me. I’m sorry to say this, but I really don’t reciprocate your feelings. To be honest, I find it disgusting that you think you even have a chance with me.

Maybe you haven’t realized, but we come from completely different worlds. People actually like me. You might not know what that feels like, but it’s actually pretty nice to be liked. I get good grades, I make friends, I do the work. Something you wouldn’t know much about. You’re nothing compared to me. You have no idea what it’s like to be admired, or to have friends. Maybe that’s because you’re always alone, daydreaming like a fucking loser.

I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.

Sincerely, y/n.

P.S. I’m in love with Lee Heeseung.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Jake, that bastard, had absolutely disappeared. He had left Sunghoon stranded in a house full of strangers. And not just any house; the house of the man he disliked nearly the most. Well, after you, then Heeseung, then Jungwon… you get the point.

Sunghoon wasn’t a big drinker, but he downed any alcohol he could get his hands on. His fourth shot of vodka left a fierce burning in his throat, and he tried his best to ignore it. Alcohol was just about the only thing that could make him feel a little less alienated in a place full of people that despised him. With every sideways glance, even an admiring or curious one, he felt more and more like running away. But he promised to stick around for the night, and he was a man of his word. Most of the time, at least.

He felt his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when Lee Heeseung approached him, toting one of his goons behind him.

“Can I help you?” Sunghoon said from behind the rim of his cup, brows raised skeptically. Heeseung had a foul look on his face, one that Sunghoon hadn’t really seen before. He seemed to be a jolly guy most of the time.

“What are you doing here?” he said, voice low.

“Sorry, I wasn’t informed that you were Yeonjun’s security guard. I’ll be on my way out, if need be.” Sunghoon said sardonically, and Heeseung’s scowl only deepened.

“I’m warning you, watch what you say to me.” Heeseung said, pointing so closely, his index finger nearly brushed his chest. “I think we both know you don’t belong here.”

“Wow, it seems like you’ve got an attitude problem. Not as innocent as everyone thinks, huh?” Sunghoon didn’t shy away from the contact, attempting to close the inch difference between their heights. It was a lot harder than it seemed. “Just like you little girlfriend.” he provoked, and Heeseung grabbed the front of his shirt, jaw pulsing.

“You watch what you saw about her.” Heeseung said through grit teeth. “You’re just jealous, and we all know it. She could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.”

I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.

Sunghoon furrowed his brow. He tried his hardest to keep his lower lip from trembling. He couldn’t show that he was hurt, no matter what.

“I’m not afraid of you.” he said.

Heeseung scoffed. “You’re pretending.”

“I’m not the only one.” The two boys stood in silence for a beat.

Heeseung dropped Sunghoon’s shirt, adjusting his jacket with a glare. “Fuck you, Sunghoon. We come from different worlds, you have no idea what it’s like to be me.”

We come from completely different worlds.

You have no idea what it’s like to be admired.

With that, Heeseung was gone, his lackeys disappearing as well. And it was all coming back to Sunghoon, biting his lip furiously to distract from the burning in his eyes. He downed the rest of what was in his cup, wandering back to the kitchen.

Maybe he wasn’t welcome here, but he was going to drink them dry before he left.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

“I have a surprise for you!” Jungwon waved his arms excitedly. You stared at him, completely unamused. Your best friend definitely had the worst timing ever.

“I’m a little busy.” you said, trying to push past him to no avail. You didn’t feel like explaining your situation, not until after you talked to your boyfriend.

“It’s really important,” Jungwon insisted, pressing his hands to the small of your back and steering you towards the staircase. You tried to squirm out of his grip but gave up about halfway through. You would humor Jungwon and see his stupid surprise, then you’d find Heeseung and have a serious conversation.

“Okay, right this way,” Jungwon mumbled, pushing you into a spare guest bedroom. “Wait here for just a moment, I need to get something ready.”

“How long is this going to take?” you said exasperatedly, flopping down onto the bed and crossing your arms.

“Just a minute!” he yelled before slamming the door, dashing away.

As he walked into the corridor, he high fived a certain blond haired boy, Jake rushing by to find his respective best friend.

“Some guy upstairs said he was looking for you.” Jake said, jabbing his thumb at the staircase. Sunghoon’s brows knitted, looking up skeptically before taking another swig of the drink in his hand.

“Me? Was it Heeseung?” Jake shrugged ambiguously.

“Don’t know. He was walking real fast, muttering your name. I think he went into one of the rooms upstairs.” Sunghoon put down his cup, rolling his eyes and heading quickly to the staircase. Jake grinned successfully, trailing behind the boy as he muttered strings of profanities and insults.

“What the fuck does he want…” Sunghoon grumbled, opening the first door he saw when he went upstairs, shutting it in exasperation when a couple screamed, their intimacy interrupted. Jake grimaced; Sunghoon seemed unaffected. He continued this with three more doors, until he finally reached one with a white frame and a silver handle, one with squeaky hinges, one that locked from the outside.

“Where is he-” Jake shoved the boy with all his might, slamming the door behind him as his best friend yelped, pounding on the door. Jungwon came running from around the corner, diving for the doorknob with a key in hand, turning it firmly in the lock. No matter how much Sunghoon protested, it was futile.

“Nice one.” Jake said, high fiving the younger boy as the two proudly celebrated their success. They stared at the door until Sunghoon’s protests went quiet, and the culprits were left with an awkward silence as they registered their actions.

“...We did a good thing, right?” Jungwon asked unsurely. “...Yeah. Definitely.”

“Oh, fucking excellent. God, this night couldn’t get any worse.” Sunghoon said immediately upon noticing your presence. He huffed, pacing around the room while you stared at him, eyes watery, biting down on your lip hard. Sunghoon was filled with so much rage, he was unable to speak, and the two of you sat in silence for a brief second before you got to your feet, walking straight up to him and slapping him in the face.

“I am so fucking mad at you!” you yelled, shocking both of you.

“Me? What could I have possibly done to make you mad at me?” Sunghoon shouted incredulously, pressing his hand to his hot cheek, red blooming under his skin.

“This whole rivalry!” you said, gesturing vaguely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” he asked irritatedly.

“About the letter!” Sunghoon paled. He had imagined this moment a hundred times over, and none of those hypotheticals went like this. He simply couldn’t have this conversation with you, it was too painful. It was in the past.

“Why should I? You’re the one that wrote it.” he said frustratedly.

“Jeez, you’re so fucking stupid. I never would have done that to you. I wouldn’t say any of that mean shit to you. I didn’t write that letter!”

He scoffed, “Oh yeah, then who did?”

“Heeseung did, Sunghoon.” He paused for a moment, not sure what to say.

You’re just jealous, and we all know it.

She could never love someone like you, you’re a freak.

We come from completely different worlds.

You have no idea what it’s like to be me.

Heeseungs hurtful words rang around his head, cutting into his skin like hot knives. It was impossible. You wrote the letter. Heeseung wouldn’t have done that.

“Why would he do that?” you stared at him, unbelieving at how oblivious he was.

“Because I was in love with you, obviously!”

It felt like Sunghoon’s heart was on fire. The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like centuries, Sunghoon’s head spinning. Suddenly, everything was much too real for him to take in. His rising body temperature, the sweet lilt of your voice, the way you looked at him through your lashes.

“What?” he questioned blankly, hardly even registering what you were saying. He felt dizzy. “You were in love with me?”

“Well, it was freshman year. I was 14. Can you just shut the fuck up? I’m still mad at you.” you said, your cheeks went aflame with the realization of what you had just said.

He grinned. “You’re so dumb.”

“You’re so fucking annoying-” Suddenly, his lips crashed into yours.

He tangled his hands in your hair, knotting his left hand in your hair. You kissed him in return as he held your waist in his right hand, his teeth biting your lower lip. You both fought for dominance, staggering through the room until your back hit the wall, and you wrapped a leg around his waist as he cursed under his breath. It was a kiss of hatred, but at the same time, relief. His lips felt as though they were made to fit yours, fitting like a puzzle piece. You parted for a breath, but he pulled you back in hungrily.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” The two of you pulled away immediately as Jake cursed loudly, Jungwon behind him with a look on his face like you had just shot him. “What is wrong with you two? We wanted you to make up, not make out!”

“Get the fuck out!” Sunghoon shouted, running after his best friend and shoving him away, slamming the door behind them with a heavy exhalation. When he turned back to you, you were trying to hold back a giggle and failing miserably.

The two of you began to laugh, and Sunghoon dropped to the floor with a sigh, you doing the same and sidling up to him.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” you said, feeling intensely embarrassed.

“ Yeah, I bet you’ll give me herpes.” Sunghoon mocked, and you turned to him with a glare, and he held his hands up. “Old habits die hard. But I really am sorry I was mean to you. I didn’t know Heeseung wrote the letter.” You scowled at the reminder.

“Heeseung…” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Jesus. What am I gonna do about him?” Sunghoon didn’t reply, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Did you ever think I was a freak?” he asked suddenly. You frowned.

“Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know. I was always alone, always daydreaming. I wasn’t popular or anything. Didn’t you ever consider that you shouldn’t like someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” you snorted. “C’mon, don’t be full of yourself. You’re just a person. I could care less if you like to be alone, or if you daydream. So does everyone else, they’re just not brave enough to say it aloud.” Sunghoon smiled in relief, and he wanted nothing more than to press another hungry kiss to your lips. But he knew he needed to hold back. I mean, you had just gotten over your rivalry a couple minutes ago. He should probably give it some time before he starts kissing his ex-nemesis.

“You should probably go,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I bet people are looking for you. And I think you might need to talk to your boyfriend.”

“Ex boyfriend, when I’m done with him.” you said, rolling your eyes and getting to your feet, bruising the dust off of your dress. You held out a hand to assist Sunghoon in getting up, and he took it with a smile. You walked, turning back when he didn’t follow you. “C’mon. Let’s show Heeseung that we’re not enemies anymore.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You felt like the room quaked when you walked downstairs with Sunghoon.

The music didn’t stop, but it almost seemed like everything went silent, hundreds of pairs of eyes landing on the two of you immediately, narrowed, criticizing. Sunghoon was sweating at the judgment, but you strode confidently, not paying any attention to their stares. And like magic, everyone began to turn around and mind their own business. You sent Sunghoon a wink.

“Do anything with confidence, and people won’t give a shit.” you said. Sunghoon grinned. He knew he had a lot to learn from you. The two of you slid through the bodies, navigating your way through until you spotted him from across the room.

Lee Heeseung. The man you called the love of your life just a few hours ago. You wonder if you still loved him after what happened.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” Sunghoon said, tilting his head towards the door.

“See you later, Sunghoon. Don’t be a stranger.” you said, before turning on your heel and marching away. He shook his head at your retreating figure, smiling with a warm blush on his cheeks before he made his exit.

“Heeseung!” you yelled across the room, attempting to pass by the hordes of drunks to get to your boyfriend. Him and his friends were playing a rowdy game of beer pong, and he watched you inquisitively with a ball in hand. “We need to talk.”

“About what, baby?” he asked, tossing the ball and scoring with ease, Yeonjun and Beomgyu cheering behind him and chanting his name.

“Heeseung.” you said his name coldly, and he grew serious within an instant.

“Yeonjun, take my place.” he said, slapping his friend on the back as the boy raised his brow, the group watching you with curiosity as you walked away.

You led Heeseung to the backyard, crossing your arms the minute you turned around to face him. He could tell you were serious as ever.

“What is it baby?” he said with concern, reaching for your arm, but you pulled away from him quickly. He only grew more worried.

“Heeseung, do you have anything to tell me?” you asked vaguely, and every bad thing he had done in his entire life ran through his head in an instant.

“No?” he said pathetically. “Y/n, will you just tell me what you want?”

“Why did you write Sunghoon that letter?” Heeseung paled. He didn’t think you would find out. Not this soon. “You said such hurtful things to him, why? And addressed from me?” You said, voice wobbling.

“Baby, let me explain-”

“You’re the reason Sunghoon hated me so much. I put up with his belittling for years because I thought I deserved it somehow. Just to find out it was you all along? What kind of fucked up person would do that?”

“How else was I supposed to get him away from you?”

“That’s not your decision to make, Heeseung.” you said coldly.

“Look, baby, that was all in the past. I’m really sorry, can’t we just look past it?”

“No, Heeseung, because you hurt an innocent person really badly. And that is always unforgivable.” you sighed, pinching the space between your brows.

“He doesn’t matter, y/n. I’m your boyfriend, not him!”

“Well, not anymore.” Both of you froze. Through the glass walls, the entirety of the party stared at the two of you, Decelis’ golden couple. Now destroyed.

“You’re breaking up with me,” Heeseung said slowly, in disbelief. “Over Park Sunghoon?” You stared at him for a moment, before steeling yourself.

“Yes. Yes I am.” And then you walked off, pushing past the shocked crowds with tears in your eyes, gunning it for the door and disappearing into the night.

Something was telling you to run after him.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

epilogue.

“She’s still at it?” Jake asked in disbelief. Just a moment previous, you had strode straight up to Sunghoon from your spot at the blackboard with the utmost confidence and placed a lollipop onto his lap. You didn’t even look into his eyes, just turning on your heel and returning to your duties.

He was beginning to get envious looks from his fellow classmates, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“S’pose so.” Sunghoon said, unwrapping the cellophane and popping the treat into his mouth with a satisfying suction sound. “Mm. At least she’s giving me good flavors these days.”

“It’s been three years. You’d think she’d stop by now.” Jake shook his head, tossing his notebooks and laptop into his backpack as the bell rang, dismissing class.

“She’ll never stop. She loves me.” Sunghoon grinned proudly, the stick of his lollipop protruding from the corner of his upturned mouth.

“Why doesn’t she ever bring me lollipops?” Sunghoon frowned, slapping Jake in the back with his notebook before shoving it into his duffel. “Ow! What?”

“She’s my girlfriend. She’s not allowed to give lollipops to anyone but me.” Sunghoon said, like it was obvious, walking to the front of the class with Jake in tow just behind him. “Besides, you don’t even like lollipops anyway.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

Even after a year of dating, you and Sunghoon were still up to your classic shenanigans. It was a wonder that the two of you were still together, considering how often you bickered. You were lucky that you loved each other more than enough to make up for the arguments.

“Hey, baby.” he said, striding up to your place at the front of the class and pressing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek. You wiped your cheek off with a playful scowl, before plucking the lollipop from Sunghoon’s mouth and putting it between your lips.

“Hey, Hoonie. Hey, Jake.” You reached for your boyfriend’s hand as the three of you walked out of class together. “How was practice, you two?”

“Mm, I’m tired.” Sunghoon said, pecking you as Jake rolled his eyes at your overt pda. “Jake’s been keeping me busy with training.”

“If you weren’t so shit, I wouldn’t have to train you all the time.” Jake ruffled the younger boy’s hair as he looked up at him with a scowl. After your debacle with Heeseung, Jake quit the rugby team, deciding he favored soccer. It turned out to be a good decision, as he was quite good at it, and you decided it must have been pure fate that gave him a scholarship to the same college you and Sunghoon were attending.

“Hey, I joined soccer way before you did. Have some respect for your seniors.” Sunghoon said, evading Jake’s hands as he reached to slap the younger boy, the two tussling as you watched with a smile, sucking on your lollipop. “Jesus, don’t you ever get tired of those two?” a weary voice said, sidling up to you as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. You turned to face Jungwon, his bangs matted to his forehead and his button up shirt nearly halfway undone.

“You’ve been sleeping during class?” you asked, humor in your tone as your best friend turned to you with a raised brow.

“How could you tell?” You didn’t answer. Sunghoon ran to you, a big grin on his face as he dragged Jake behind him in a headlock.

“Hey, Jungwon.” he said, reaching for a handshake that Jungwon didn’t reciprocate. He then reached for the stick dangling from your lips, removing it, kissing you softly, and then putting the sucker back in his own mouth.

“You guys are disgusting.” Jake said, voice muffled from under Sunghoon’s bicep.

“Cherry, again?” Jungwon said, watching the bright red sphere as it protruded slightly from Sunghoon’s mouth. “I should’ve known you were up to something when you ordered them in bulk.”

“What can I say? A tradition’s a tradition.” you grinned, taking Sunghoon’s hand as the four of you walked in a line. “A lollipop a day keeps Park Sunghoon away.” He looked at you with a snort, unable to hold back a smile.

“Did you just come up with that?” he asked, amused.

“I did.” you hummed, and he pressed a kiss to your nose, Jungwon and Jake groaning loudly in unison.

“We get it, you’re in love.”

“Enough already, it’s gross.” they whined, and the two of you laughed together, swinging your hands back and forth like a little swing between your sides.

Who knew you and your enemy would fall in love? You certainly couldn’t have predicted it. Turns out that college life had a lot of unexpected surprises in store. But while everything kept changing, there was one thing that always stayed the same.

Sunghoon’s heart always skipped a beat when you gave him a lollipop.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

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