#Physics practical class 10 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elleetlalune · 3 months ago

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The kiss of life | sjy

⤷genre: smut, academic rivals to lovers.

⤷sypnosis: Your rival, Sim Jake, has always been a burden in your life, well atleast until you realise he's a little too obssesed with your little game of "who's the best?".

⤷warnings: smut smutty smut smut, ANGST AHA, degradation kink, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex (bro..), CREAMPIE, oral(m receiving), cowgirl (yeehaw!), doggy, reader is VERY stupid, jake is a jerk,drinking, meandom!jake x sub!reader.

“Fucking hell, how do you even score a full grade in Physics?”

Your voice was muffled against your arms as you slumped over the desk. The screen glared at you, mockingly bright in the dark of your dorm. Another test, another 92. Not bad. But not enough.

Not enough to beat him.

"Girl, you should rest. It's like 2am," sighed Giselle from behind her laptop, stretching her arms with a yawn.

She was your roommate, best friend, non-biological sister. In a way, she was everything to you.

You dragged yourself from the chair and walked straight into her arms, practically collapsing into her hoodie-covered shoulder. “I’m tired,” you muttered, voice rough from lack of sleep.

She chuckled softly and rubbed your back. "Let’s get you something to eat, okay? Pizza, right?"

You nodded against her, mumbling something about cheese and annihilating Sim Jake in one breath.

She pulled away and gave you a look. "You're obsessed. It’s not healthy."

“I’m not obsessed,” you lied, flopping back into your chair like a dying Victorian woman. “I just don’t like losing.”

“You don’t like losing to Jake,” she corrected, smirking. “He lives rent-free in your head. That boy could sneeze and you’d file it under sabotage.”

You opened your mouth to object, but your phone buzzed.

Sim Jake: Hope you’re studying. I’m not slowing down just because you need beauty sleep.

You let out a strangled groan and threw your phone onto the bed like it had insulted your ancestors.

Giselle didn’t even look up. “Was that him?”

“God, I hate him.”

“Sure you do.” She smiled at you.

Jake was everywhere.

Not in the literal sense—you didn’t see him until your 10 a.m. Physics seminar—but it felt like he haunted every inch of your morning.

The group chat. The hallway whispers. The lecture slides. It was like the universe had a favorite student and was making sure you knew it.

By the time you slid into your seat near the back of the lecture hall, coffee in hand and nerves already frayed, you knew he’d be sitting in his usual spot: front row, center. Perfect posture, perfect notes, perfect attention.

You hated how consistent he was.

You tried to tune out the professor's voice, but Jake made that impossible. He answered three questions in the first ten minutes. Not just correctly—but brilliantly. Like he'd eaten the textbook for breakfast.

And every time he spoke, you felt that familiar pang.

Not jealousy. Not really.

Just pressure. Like every word out of his mouth was a dare.

Catch me if you can.

“Sim Jake’s paper was one of the few that properly explained the entropy paradox,” the professor was saying now, scrolling through the week’s top scores on the projector. “In fact, only a few of you met the standard—”

There it was.

Your name, second place.

His, first.

Again.

Your stomach sank.

You didn’t even notice Jake glancing back at you until class ended and he appeared at your side like he’d been summoned.

He leaned down slightly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the shuffle of backpacks and murmured complaints.

“Tied in Calculus. Beat you in Physics. You gonna make a comeback in Bio?”

You refused to look at him. “I’d rather eat chalk.”

He snorted. “Tempting. But not the academic strategy I’d go with.”

You turned to glare at him, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, he smiled wider, eyes lit with that competitive glint you were coming to dread.

“You know,” he added casually, “you should study with me. Could help your chances.”

You stared. “Is that... an offer? Or a threat?”

Jake shrugged. “Depends how badly you want to win.”

You hated that you hesitated.

He noticed.

“Thought so,” he said, tapping the side of your notebook like it was some kind of challenge, and then he was gone—off into the crowd like a smug academic ghost.

You stood there, notebook in hand, and realized you were smiling.

God help you.

Back at the dorm, Giselle was sprawled on her bed with a face mask on and a playlist of playboy Carti playing at low volume.

You kicked off your shoes and dropped face-first into your comforter with a groan.

“Let me guess,” she said, not looking up, “Him again?”

“He told me to study with him.”

“Oof.” She peeled off one side of her face mask. “He’s either trying to seduce you or destroy you. Maybe both.”

“I don’t get it,” you said, muffled by the blanket. “Why does he care so much about this? Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his bullshit,” she replied, sitting up. “Everyone else treats he was gifted by Erwin Schrödinger. You? You beat him. That’s hot.”

You lifted your head to glare. “That is not hot.”

“Oh, honey.” She smiled, all-knowing. “Yes, it is.”

You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t like Jake. You didn’t.

But something was happening. And it wasn’t just about grades anymore, maybe if it wasn't for that infuriating smirk he always had on his fucking face, you wouldn't doubt it.

Well atleast until a few days later.

You should’ve known.

You should’ve known the moment the professor said “pair work.”

Nothing good ever came from the phrase pair work—not when Sim Jaeyun existed in the same universe as you.

You sank a little lower in your seat as Professor Han pulled up the randomized groupings on the screen.

Project: Experimental Physics Simulation (40% of final grade) Assigned Partners:

Your eyes scanned the list faster than you should've—until they landed on the name next to yours.

Jang Yn & Sim Jake

“No,” you muttered. “No, no, no, no.”

“Hell yes,” Jake whispered from behind you, voice practically purring with smug satisfaction. A small gasp leaving your body, where the hell did he come from?

You turned slowly, a grimace twisting your face.

He grinned like a cat with cream. “Guess we’re spending some quality time together after all.”

“This is a hate crime,” you replied flatly.

Professor Han tapped her tablet for attention. “You’ll be expected to present your model in two weeks. The goal is to demonstrate practical application of theoretical concepts. Creativity is encouraged.”

She smiled sweetly. “You’ll learn more from someone who doesn’t think like you.”

Jake leaned forward, chin practically resting on his hand. “Hear that? I don’t think like you.”

“I know you don’t think like me,” you snapped. “I value silence, not stupid talks.”

He chuckled.

And it was infuriatingly…warm, why did he have to be so stupidly handsome? He had the personality of a gorilla on steroids, yet whenever he smiled ,flirted or just exsisted, you could feel your panties a little more damp than before.

The first “study session” was exactly what you expected: annoying, tense, and two hours of arguing about the definition of “efficient simulation.”

You’d agreed to meet at the library, in one of the glass-paneled study rooms. His natural habitat.

Jake sprawled out on one end of the table like he owned the place—hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, mechanical pencil spinning between his fingers. His notes were, of course, immaculate. Color-coded. Labeled. Graphs.

You hated how good they were.

"So what? Are you just gonna stare at me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Without a word, you just sat down took out your textbooks, leaving the latter a little confused on your weird...eagerness?

You worked back and forth, and without a doubt, he knew every.single.thing you didn't, everytime you were about to say something he'd look at you as if it was the most obvious thing anyone could ever say.

After two long hours, you had finally finished.

"It's done, I'll send it to you once I'm at the dorm." You announced not even looking at him, too busy gathering your things, the thing is you weren't busy, rather flustered by his piercing gaze on you, looking at you as if you were some kind of prey.

You almost didn't want to leave, what are you even thinking?

“Sure. Try not to stay up too late obsessing over me.” He finally answered nodding.

You paused at the door and looked back at him. “Try not to get too comfortable with me, I don't like you, this is a forced-proximity.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Goodnight, Yn” he said.

And just like that he was walking away.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling.

Not until you walked back into your dorm and Giselle looked up from her laptop, narrowed her eyes, and pointed a suspicious finger at you.

“Oh my god.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“So?”

“So,” she said, peeling off her under-eye patches like she was unmasking the truth.”You only smile like that when you buy a new Ben&Jerry's ice cream flavour, or when you daydream of Sim Jaeyun."

You tried to suppress the grin creeping back onto your face. “We had a productive professional meeting. That’s it.”

Giselle crossed her arms and leaned against her desk like she was prepping for interrogation. “Uh-huh. And did this productive professional meeting involve any physical touch? Maybe you looking at him while he was busy? Perhaps you dropping something and you and him accidently bumping your heads while trying to pick it up at the same time?”

“Please, you watch to many dramas” you groaned, tossing your bag onto your bed. “It was just a project. Calm down.”

She gasped. “Just a project? Oh, you’re down bad.”

“I am not—” You stopped, because even saying it sounded like a lie.

Giselle strutted toward you. “Bitch? I’ve seen you spend entire nights rage-studying just to beat him by 0.1 points. Now suddenly you’re all buddy-buddy? What did he do, donate a kidney?”

You buried your face in a pillow. “We’re just working on the project. He’s tolerable in small doses.”

“Tolerable. Wow. That’s almost romantic, next thing you know you'll be in his bed,”

You lifted your head and gave her the flattest look you could manage. “Remind me why I let you live here again?”

“Because you're secretly inlove with me. Though I don't do Polyamourous relationships.”

She flopped dramatically onto your bed beside you and propped her chin on her hand. “So... when’s the next date?”

“It’s not a date.”

“But it is. Together. Voluntarily. With eye contact.”

You groaned.

She poked your side. “Did he lean over your shoulder?”

“No.”

“Did you imagine what he’d look like on top of you?”

“Giselle!”

She cackled. “That’s a yes.”

You shoved her off your bed with a pillow and covered your face again. “I hate you.”

“No, sweetie.” Her voice was singsong now, floating from the floor. “You hate Jake. Remember?”

It started, as most academic regrets did, with Giselle saying: “You have to come.”

You eyed her from your desk. “I really don’t.”

“It’s a stupid party. It’s practically networking.”

“You mean it’s drinking cheap beer and pretending it's the best thing i've had?”

“Exactly!” she beamed. “You need a break. Come. Wear something cute. Get tipsy. Maybe kiss someone,or even hook-up. Come on!”

You were mid-eye roll when she added, way too casually: “Oh. Jake’s going.”

You froze. “How do you know that?”

She smirked. “Because I asked him.”

“Why would you—”

“You’re welcome,” she sang, already disappearing into your closet, before coming back a dress in her hands.

"Ta-da! You'll definetly get dick tonight if you wear this." She wiggled her eyebrows, holding a black mini-dress that had a lacy sweetheart neckline.

"Do I have a choice?" You sighed, taking it from her. "Nuh uh, now get ready."

The party was louder than you expected. And warmer. And definitely more crowded.

Giselle abandoned you the second you got there, of course. Something about a guy she knew, which was the usual, so you just sat alone drinking some tequila you found sitting on one of the counters.

So you ended up drifting through the crowd alone for a while, plastic cup in hand, trying to look like you belonged there and weren’t constantly scanning the room for him.

And then—

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned—and there he was.

Jake. Casual clothes, dark shirt, hair a little messy, that stupid perfect face slightly flushed from the heat.

He smiled, just a little.

“I thought you didn’t do parties,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“I don’t. But Giselle said you’d be here.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Well,” you said coolly, “don’t expect me to be fun.”

Jake stepped closer. “Too late. I already am.”

It was stupid.

The way you ended up talking for an hour on someone’s front porch. The way the tequila burned a little less every time he leaned in. The way your fingers brushed when you passed the cup back and forth, and neither of you pulled away.

You were tipsy.

He was tipsy.

“I used to think you hated me,” he said suddenly, eyes fixed on yours.

“I did.”

Jake laughed. “And now?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were all stuck somewhere between your throat and your pride.

He stepped closer, gaze flicking down to your lips. “You still hate me?”

You didn’t say anything.

He took that as permission.

His lips suddenly crashed on yours, a small gasp leaving your mouth that felt hostage to his, your tongue was putting a weak fight against his, as his lips bit your lower one.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was all heat and teeth and pent-up energy—years of competition and tension finally snapping.

Your back hit the wall. His hands found your waist, his lips not leaving yours , it was hungry, you were hungry for eachother, as if you were touch deprived.Your hands tangled in his hair like you’d been waiting for this.

And maybe you had.

You didn’t stop.

Not when someone shouted about the cops. Not when the music cut out. Not when the porch light flickered like a dying star.

Not when he pulled you to a room, his hands never leaving your body, he pushed you against the room's door, locking it, just the way your lips were locked.

"You wanted this didn't you?" He smirked finally pulling away, looking at your body, up and down.

His pants were tighter, his breath was ragged, and you knew what you had to do.

You softly pushed him on the bed, as you got on your knees.

"Oh?" He let out almost mockingly, as he spread his legs.

You unzipped his pants, letting them fall down, before tugging his boxers down too.

Taking the hard lenght in your hand, you looked at it like it was a full course meal, like you were about to devour it.

You teased the leaking tip with your tongue, as he groaned grabbing your hair and pushing his aching cock in your hot mouth, making you gag.

"Fuck, yeah, take it all" He smirked, thrusting his hips forward, forcing you to take him all. Tears were streaming down your face from gagging as you sucked relentlessly, his thick veiny cock plunging in and out of your mouth.

"Such a slut, sucking me off after I kissed you once." His words were mean, degrading yet they only aroused you more, as your needy pussy ached in silence, drowned in her own juices.

You kept on sucking, as you felt him grow closer to his release, you massaged his balls, making him moan for the first time tonight.

"Keep doing that," He said, only final suck before he came in your mouth,"Open your mouth." He commended, to which you complied, your tongue full on his cum, that you had previously swallowed.

Without another word, he pushed you on the bed, roughly, before discarding the rest of his clothes, you took it as a sign to remove yours too, so you did.

"On all fours, now." He said his voice stern, you did as he said, this was embarassingly turning you on.

His ran a finger over your soaked folds, eliciting a strangled moan from you, "Already so wet and ready for me.." He whispered in your ear, his cock tugged against you hot core, "Please..I need you.."You finally muttered for the first time of the night.

"You need me?" He laughed, his laugh wasn't out of amusement, it was mean, he was mean.

Without previous warning, he slammed in you, thrusting deeply his entire cock in one swift movement.

You moaned, very loud, the pleasure mixed with the pain were overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck, you take me so well," He said, your silence earned you a sharp slap on the ass making you unwillingly moan. "Jake.."

"What a whore, moaning my name after I spanked you." he kept on talking while you did your best to take him from behind, your hands clutching on the pillows, your moans and your connected cores were the only sounds to be heard.

His dick hit your cervix every single time, making you see stars, the knot in your lower belly came loose as you whimpered.

"I'm ..I'm cumming.." You let out, to which he simply scoffed, "Hold it in, I'm not done yet."

It hurt, nearly impossible from the overwhelming wave of pleasure, his pace never slowing down, if anything he was speeding up. "Please.." and just with that, you came all over his cock, "Fuck.." He cursed under his breath, spanking you once again. "Who allowed to do that, slut?" Still deeply thrusting into you as he pulled your hair, your back meeting his chest.

A few more thrusts and his own body came loose, thick ropes of his cum deep inside of you, he slowly pulled out, watching his cum drip down to your legs, as he collapsed next to you.

“Okay,” Giselle said, popping a grape in her mouth. “What exactly happened between you two?”

You were curled up on your bed, hoodie pulled over your knees, reliving the moment on a never-ending loop.

“He kissed me.”

She paused mid-grape. “...And?”

“And I kissed him back.” you said keeping the details of the after-math to yourself.

“And now?”

“He’s pretending I don’t exist.”

Giselle stared. “Wow. Okay. I’m going to need to physically restrain myself from punching him.”

“Get in line.”

She shifted beside you, growing serious. “Do you think he regrets it?”

You wanted to say no.

You didn’t.

Instead, you whispered, “I think it meant something. At least… to me.”

Giselle exhaled. “Then he’s a coward, you deserve better baby."

The final presentation day came.

You both delivered it perfectly. Polished. Efficient. No mistakes. No interaction beyond necessary. Your professor called it "an impressively balanced demonstration of collaborative work."

You both nodded. Smiled politely.

And then walked off in opposite directions.

Two days later, the truth came out.

You didn’t mean to overhear it.

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop.

But as you turned the corner into the campus café, you heard his name. Loud, obnoxious, and coming from a table full of guys laughing like a pack of hyenas.

“Dude,” one of them snorted, “I still can’t believe you actually went through with the dare.”

Your stomach dropped.

You paused, just out of sight, something tight closing around your chest.

“Yeah,” another guy said. “Didn’t think you had it in you, genius.”

“Oh my god,” someone else cackled. “She looked so into it. She probably thinks you’re in love with her.”

“Easy shit,” came the final voice. Familiar. Mocking. Gut-twisting.

Jake.

“She’s smart, but she’s not hard to read.”

You didn’t hear anything after that.

Not over the roar in your ears.

You turned and walked away before they could see you. Fast. Like the hallway was collapsing behind you.

That night, you didn’t cry.

You didn’t rage or scream.

You just stared at your ceiling and felt... empty.

Because it wasn’t just the dare.

It was him.

The idea that everything you felt for him, well to him was just a stupid game, he wasn't lying when he called you a whore.

A fucking dare.

You thought maybe he hated you.

But you never thought he’d humiliate you.

And the worst part?

Somewhere deep down, past the fact you wanted to shove a fist in his annoyingly hot face, past the betrayal—

You still wanted to believe he didn’t mean it.

You were stupid.

You didn’t remember how you got back to your room.

You remembered walking. Just walking. One foot in front of the other like your bones were on autopilot. Like if you stopped, if you let yourself feel, you’d shatter.

The second the door shut behind you, your knees gave out.

You sank to the floor, back against the wood, breath caught in your throat. The silence in the room roared in your ears. Giselle wasn’t home. Thank God.

You stared at the wall, unblinking. Numb.

And then—

The tears came.

Slow at first, then faster, hotter, until you were shaking. Until sobs clawed their way out of your chest and you couldn’t stop them, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t understand how you let yourself fall for someone who turned your feelings into a joke.

You curled in on yourself, forehead pressed to your knees, sobbing so hard it hurt.

And all you could think was:

“She’s smart, but she’s not hard to read.”

Those words rang again and again in your skull like cruel bells, louder than your crying, louder than anything.

You felt stupid. So stupid.

How could you have believed him? Believed the softness in his eyes was real? Believed you meant anything?

You hated yourself for it.

And that’s what wrecked you the most.

Because it wasn’t just that he’d fucked you on a dare.

It was that you wanted it to be real.

It was that some pathetic part of you still did.

You stayed on the floor long after the tears dried. Red-eyed, mascara streaked on your cheeks.

A voice echoed in your head—your own voice from days ago, drunk,needy, hopeful and so desperately naive

You let out a bitter, broken laugh.

He didn’t surpass you.

He destroyed you.

And he probably didn’t even care.

You hadn’t spoken to Jake in days.

You didn’t look at him in class. Didn’t acknowledge him. Ignored him in the hallway when he passed too close. You kept your chin high, even if your stomach curled every time you sensed him near.

But today, he cornered you.

It was after class, where he used to sit beside you. Now you took a spot at the edge, eyes fixed on your notebook.

“Hey,” he said behind you. Too casually. “Can we talk?”

You stood without responding, changing seats.

He followed.

“Come on,” he muttered, catching up. “You’re seriously going to do this now?”

You looked at him. “Do what, Jake?”

He blinked like he hadn’t expected you to turn. “This silent treatment crap. It’s childish.”

You laughed. It was hollow. “I’m sorry, am I being childish? Because last I checked, you and your friends were laughing about a fucking dare , me.”

Something flickered in his face. “That’s not what happened.”

“I heard it, Jake. Every word.”

He glanced away, jaw tight. “You misheard.”

You stared. “Excuse me?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

He met your eyes again, and now they were flat. Sharp. “You’re overreacting. It was just a joke. A dumb one. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” Your voice cracked. “You kissed me and then fucked me.”

“You kissed me, and you wanted me to fuck you.” he shot back, too fast.

You froze.

“That night?” he continued. “You came onto me just as much. You think I forced you into anything?”

“That’s not—”

“You’re acting like I manipulated you when we were both drunk and—what? Lonely? Bored? Don’t pin this all on me just because you regret it.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Jake crossed his arms, tone colder now. “Maybe you built it up in your head. That’s not my fault.”

Your heart thundered. “You let me believe it meant something.”

“It didn’t,” he said.

Silence.

Something inside you broke, maybe it was whatever was left of your self esteem or your heart.

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Jake’s jaw clenched. Regret flickered there—but he didn’t take it back.

You stepped around him. “Don’t talk to me again.”

And this time, when you walked away, you didn’t cry.

You were too numb for that anyways.

You didn’t make it past the front door before you collapsed.

Again.

You hadn’t cried in front of anyone since you were eleven years old. Not when you failed your first test. Not when you broke your wrist during track. Not even when your parents stopped asking about how your day was.

But the second you saw Giselle—curled up on the couch in sweats with her laptop balanced on her knees—it all came flooding back.

“Shit,” she whispered, immediately ditching the laptop and standing up. “What happened?”

You shook your head, shoulders trembling.

“I—I can’t—” you choked out, barely managing to shut the door behind you before your legs gave out and you sank to the floor.

Giselle dropped beside you without hesitation. “Hey. Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” She pulled you into her arms, warm and solid and familiar.

You cried into her hoodie. Ugly, gasping sobs that shook your whole body.

She didn’t say anything at first. She just held you.

When the sobs finally slowed, she whispered, “Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, wiping your face with your sleeve like it would hide the wreckage.

“I confronted Jake.”

Giselle’s expression turned instantly feral. “What did he do?”

“He said I overreacted. That it didn’t mean anything. That I wanted him.”

Her mouth dropped open. “He did not—”

“He gaslit me,” you said softly. “Tried to make me question what even happened. Like I imagined it. Like it was my idea, and I was just making a big deal out of nothing.”

“And the worst part?” You laughed wetly. “For a second, I believed him.”

Giselle’s hand flew to your shoulder. “No. Babe. No. Don’t you dare blame yourself.”

You looked away, voice barely a whisper. “I wanted it to mean something. I thought it meant something.”

“It did mean something,” she said firmly. “To you. And that’s valid. Jake being a manipulative little shit doesn’t make your feelings fake.”

You gave a weak shrug. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was suddenly sharper. “You are not stupid. You are the smartest, most intuitive person I know. You’ve been holding yourself together for weeks and I have no idea how. And I’m proud of you.”

You blinked at her, tears blurring again.

“And,” she added with a half-smile, “I kind of want to trip him down a staircase.”

You gave a small, watery laugh. “Only kind of?”

“Well, I don’t want to get kicked out before midterms.”

You sniffled, managing a broken smile. “I love you.”

“I know.” She squeezed your hand. “But say it again so I can record it and set it as my alarm.”

You exhaled, some of the pressure in your chest finally loosening.

For a moment, it was quiet again.

Then Giselle tilted her head. “You know what I think?”

You gave her a tired look. “That I should murder him and flee the country?”

She smirked. “Tempting. But no. I think… he’s scared.”

You frowned. “Of what?”

“Of you,” she said. “Of how much he likes you.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

“He doesn’t like me, Giselle.”

“He does,” she said simply. “But he doesn’t know how to deal with it. So he turns it into a competition. A dare. A way to win.”

You looked away. “if that's the case,that’s messed up.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Which is why he doesn’t deserve you. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

Silence stretched.

Giselle squeezed your hand again. “But if—if—he ever gets his shit together, and I mean therapy-level together… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

You nodded slowly.

What if you just dated Giselle?

What about him?

He hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

It was fucking pathetic.

Jake was used to being good at things. Physics? Easy. Debate? Cake. Charm? Usually, yeah. He’d coasted through most of life by being clever enough, cocky enough, and just vulnerable enough to make people want to forgive him when he wasn’t.

But this?

This wasn’t forgivable.

He rubbed his face, staring blankly at the half-finished essays on his laptop. His dorm room was a mess—clothes scattered, ramen bowls on the floor,

He couldn’t focus.

You were everywhere.

Every seat you didn’t sit in.

Every class where you didn’t look at him.

Every hallway you passed through like he wasn’t there.

And God, you looked wrecked when you walked out of that confrontation.

Pale. Shaky. Like you were trying to hold it together just long enough to get away from him.

And he did.

His own words made him nauseous now.

He hadn’t meant it like that. Hadn’t meant any of it like that. But he panicked. He saw the look in your eyes and all he could think was she’s going to hate me forever. So he did what he always did.

He deflected. Defended. Because he always won.

Tried to win the argument like it was a debate.

But it wasn’t a debate.

It was you.

And now he was losing you in real time.

You didn’t even hate him, that was the worst part. She looked at him like he wasn’t real anymore. Like he never had been.

Because he didn’t know who he was, either.

You made him feel off-balance. Like all his perfectly crafted blueprints didn’t apply. Like he wanted to undo years of rivalry just to see her smile at him again.

And then he ruined it.

He kissed her like he meant it. And maybe, maybe he had meant it—but he let everyone else turn it into something else. A dare. A power play. A joke.

He, himself knew the joke, all along, was him, Sim Jaeyun.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

You probably thought he never cared.

But the truth was—

He cared too much.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Week three without Jake.

You hadn’t planned it like that. There was no calendar countdown, no “today I get over him” moment. But the silence had space in it now. Not emptiness—just… quiet.

You’d stopped crying.

Now, you were building.

You were the first one in the library most mornings. Not because you needed to prove anything anymore, but because you liked the light that hit the window tables at 7:04 a.m.

You started wearing lip gloss again. Real pants. That one leather jacket Giselle said made you look like the villain in a spy movie. And if people noticed?

Let them.

You weren’t doing it for them.

You weren’t even doing it for him.

You were doing it for you—for the girl who sat through Jake’s gaslighting and didn’t fold. For the girl who stood up and walked away without letting him see her fall apart.

Your group project had you partnered with people who actually respected you, and holy hell—it was like breathing fresh air for the first time. You were killing it in your lab work, crushing your deadlines, and taking up space unapologetically.

And Giselle?

Giselle was living for it.

“You look insane,” she said one morning, watching you apply eyeliner in the mirror.

You shrugged. “It’s just a Tuesday.”

“That’s the hot part,” she said, taking a picture for her instagram story. “Post-breakup glow is real.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” you muttered.

“Then why’s the school acting like he’s dead to you?”

You smirked. “Because he is.”

She raised her coffee cup. “Cheers to emotional funerals.”

You and Sunghoon were lab partners for the day, thanks to your professor reshuffling pairs. He was easy to be around—laid-back, a little cocky, and refreshingly not obsessed with beating you at everything.

“You’re way good at this,” he said, watching you adjust the digital thermometer. “You sure I'm actually helping?”

You shrugged, smiling. "You're like an assistant."

He grinned. “I’ll be the best assistant in that case."

You smiled. Not because you wanted to make a certain someone jealous. Not at first.

But when you glanced up and saw him staring from across the lab—jaw clenched, shoulders tense, not even pretending to take notes?

Oh, it was on.

Sunghoon leaned in to check something on your laptop, his hand brushing against yours.

“Should we run another test? I kind of want to watch you do it again.”

You laughed—too loud, too soft, just enough for Jake to hear. “You just like bossy girls.”

Sunghoon smirked. “Guilty.” he said raising his arms in the air.

Jake dropped his pen.

It clattered across the desk, echoing louder than it should’ve in the quiet room. You didn’t turn to look. You didn’t need to. His anger was practically radioactive.

You hadn’t even made it to the elevator that led to your room before you heard footsteps behind you—fast, heavy, angry.

“Really?” Jake’s voice, sharp, cut through the quiet.

You stopped walking.

Turned slowly.

“Oh. Now you want to talk?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you—eyes wild, hair messy, fists clenched like he was holding himself back from getting a warrant.

“You really think Sunghoon’s your type?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Jealous?” you smirked.

He stepped closer. “He’s not like me.”

“Exactly,” you said,

His jaw twitched. “You’re just doing this to piss me off.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “And if I am?”

He stared at you. “You think this is a game, but you’re not playing fair.”

“I’m not playing anymore, Jake,” you whispered, voice suddenly serious. “I stopped the second you made me feel like I was insane for having feelings.”

"You're not the center of the world." You sighed.

Something shifted in his face then—less anger, more desperation.

He took another step forward. You didn’t move.

“You don’t get to act like you didn’t feel it too,” he said, lower now. “You don’t get to flirt with my best friend and pretend it didn’t wreck me.”

“You wrecked me first,” you snapped. “You don’t get to say that now.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Thick.

Then—he reached out.

Slowly. Carefully.

His hand touched your cheek like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him. You didn’t move.

“You drive me insane,” he said hoarsely.

Your breath caught. “Good.”

And then he kissed you.

Hard. Messy. Desperate. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

You kissed him back like it was revenge. Like it was a memory you wanted to burn into his skin. Like it was the last time and the first time all at once.

His lips fit perfectly onto yours, as if he was made for you, as if you were made for eachother.

One moment and now you're in his room.

On his bed.

Moaning his name, bouncing on his cock.

"Holy shit, keep doing that.." He whimpers, holding your hips helping you move him in and out of your dripping hole.

"Jake.." His name feel like a continious prayer out of your lips, as his thick lenght made you see stars.

"See? You always come back.." He made it sound like an insult and a good thing at the same time. He thrusts turned sloppy and lazy.

"And you love it." You managed to let out.

Next morning, you woke up tangled in sheets that weren’t yours.

His hoodie was on the floor.

Your clothes were somewhere, probably near the door.

He was already awake—bare-chested, staring at the ceiling like the weight of everything had just hit him.

You didn’t speak.

Last night said enough.

And not nearly enough.

“So,” Jake said, sliding into the library booth across from you, “are we pretending last night didn’t happen, or are you going to keep blushing every time I say your name?”

You didn’t look up from your laptop.

“I’m working.”

He smirked. “So am I.”

You glanced at him. “Does annoying me count as a job now?”

“I mean, it’s a calling, really.”

You rolled your eyes. “Grow up.”

Jake leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his palm. “You didn’t say that when you were moaning my name.”

Your fingers froze on the keyboard.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze.

His smile was lazy. Infuriating.

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, heat creeping up your neck.

Jake tilted his head. “That’s not what you said last night either.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

Tried not to let him see your pulse jump.

“God, you’re such a child,” you snapped.

Jake grinned. “And yet you let me—”

“Jake.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second.

And then he leaned closer, his voice lower. “Say it again.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“My name,” he said, eyes on your lips. “Say it like you mean it.”

You blinked.

“I have work to do,” you said, turning back to your screen. “Unlike you, I don’t get off on distractions.”

Jake chuckled. “No, you just get off with them.”

You kicked him under the table.

Hard.

Things were… good.

Weirdly, annoyingly, undeniably good.

Jake still teased you—called you “professor’s favorite,” stole your pens, leaned in too close during project meetings—but now there was some love.

You’d catch him watching you when you weren’t even talking.

You’d laugh at something dumb, and his whole face would light up like it mattered.

One night, after hours of project work and bickering over formulas, he walked you back to your dorm in silence. Not tense. Just… quiet. And when you got to your door, he said:

“I missed this.”

You blinked. “This?”

“You.”He smiled at you, taking your hand in his, interwinning your fingers.

And for once, you didn’t say anything back. Just stepped closer and let your fingers brush his.

He kissed you again.

Not messy this time.

You were both smiling in the kiss, like the rest of the world had disappeared, like you only both mattered.

The party was loud. One of those end-of-week ragers you never planned to go to, but Giselle dragged you out of bed with eyeliner in hand and a red dress in the other.

“Let's have fun, hottie!”

You went. You smiled. You even let yourself believe Jake might show up, find you in the crowd, pull you aside like he always did now—quiet hallway, dumb smirk, soft eyes. Something that made this whatever-you-two-had feel like a relationship.

Well you did find him.

But what you found was him.

Kissing someone else.

Pressed up against the wall.

Hands on her waist.

Her laugh in his mouth.

His fingers pulling her closer.

And the worst part?

He saw you.

Right in the middle of it.

Eyes locking for half a second.

And he didn’t stop.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

Just kept going, like he hadn’t kissed you two nights ago and told you that he missed “this.”

Like you were a stranger.

Like it was still a game.

Your breath left your body like a punch to the ribs.

Giselle saw it happen in real time—your expression folding in on itself, your hand curling into a fist, the red cup slipping from your fingers.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she said instantly.

But you shook your head.

You weren’t going to cry.

Not here.

Not for him.

Not again.

The next day,

you didn’t knock.

You slammed his dorm room door open so hard it ricocheted off the wall. Jake looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt half-off, face flushed—but not from guilt.

From being caught.

He stood slowly. “So, you heard.”

“You knew I’d be there,” you spat, voice shaking with fury. “You saw me.”

Jake didn’t move. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, that’s so comforting,” you snapped, fists clenched at your sides. “I mean, why would it? I’m just the dare, right? Just another stupid game.”

He flinched. Barely. “That’s not fair.”

You laughed. “Fair? Jake, I defended you. I believed in you. I thought for once, you were being real with me. And you threw it away for some girl in a miniskirt and a bottle of Malibu.”

“I was drunk—”

“SO WAS I,” you screamed. “Drunk. And stupid. And in love with someone who’s never going to stop playing games.”

His face changed.

That dangerous softness again. The one that came right before he twisted the knife.

“You love me?”

You blinked. “I did.”

He stepped forward.

You stepped back.

“Don’t,” you warned.

But he didn’t listen. He never did.

“You don’t get to walk away from this like I don’t matter,” he said lowly, eyes burning into yours. “You don’t get to pretend we weren’t something.”

You shoved him. Hard. “We were nothing. You made sure of that.”

He caught your wrist.

Held it gently—like you were glass, not fire.

“But I still picked you.”

You stared at him.

“I kissed her,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “but I felt you.”

Tears welled again, you laughed in disbelief.

“You are sick.”

Jake cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

“You’ll always be my favorite,” he murmured. “Even when I fuck everything up.”

You wanted to slap him.

You wanted to forget he ever existed.

Instead, you pulled away and left.

"Fuck you, Sim Jaeyun." You left his dorm, the dorm that'll always keep some remnants you could never forget.

You removed off your jacket, wiped off your eyeliner, brushed your teeth like it was any other night. Because it was.

He didn’t get to ruin anything else.

Not your sleep. Not your heart.

He did win in exams, but apart from that, he could never win this.

You laid down in bed, wrapped in Giselle’s oversized hoodie, staring at the ceiling while your phone buzzed once—twice—three times.

Jake: Can we talk? Jake: Please, I’m sorry. Jake: I messed up.

You blocked the number. Sighing contently as sleep wrapped it's wings over you.

You showed up to class in a new outfit. And you looked fucking hot.

He was there.

He looked like hell.

But who cares?

You walked past him without a glance, like he was any other guy in a crowded lecture hall. Just background noise.

Giselle leaned over to whisper, “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” a small smile on your lips, which she immediatly reciprocated.

Sunghoon smiled, leaning in. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, sliding into the chair.

Jake didn't not even once raise his hand today.

And when Jake did say a word,

You didn’t even acknowledge him.

Not out of spite.

But because you’d already erased him from the part of you that used to ache.

You never told him you were done.

You didn’t need to. Cause you were never even a thing to begin with.

And by the time he realized he couldn’t win you again?

You had already won yourself.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #jake sim #sim jake smut #jake enhypen #jake smut #jaeyun x reader #smut #sim jake x reader #enhypen scenarios #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #enhypen jake #sim jake x you #angst #enhypen xreader #elleetlalune

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morganbritton132 · 5 months ago

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This little idea (or this one) hasn’t left me yet so suffer through more of my ramblings.

Look, Eddie was gonna stay away from Steve.

He watched Steve swipe Billy’s keys off a table at lunch and then chuck them into the woods behind the school last week, and decided that he wants no part of that.

If King Steve is testing out teen rebellion, that’s fine but Eddie is eighteen and he doesn’t have rich boy money to bail him out when shit hits the fan. So…

He keeps his distance. He goes to class. He misses three days of school because he’s got laryngitis again. Now he’s sitting in a booth at the diner, miserably eating ice cream and watching Steve Harrington stroll in.

Steve didn’t have to sit with him. The diner was practically empty because it was 10:30AM on a Tuesday when everybody else is at school. So, no. Steve didn’t have to slide in across from him.

“I’m not driving you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Steve says like Eddie was weird for thinking he might. “Got my car back. You sound awful, by the way.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else because his throat is on fire, but Steve talks. He talks largely about nothing but in that way that you do when you haven’t talked to anybody in a long time which makes no sense. Steve is popular.

Eddie kinda spaces out because he doesn’t care about baseball, but his attention snaps back into focus ten minutes later when a hand clamps down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve is too casual, “Hey, Hop.”

“How’d the appointment go?” Hopper asks in a voice that sounds like it’s physically being restrained. “The MRI, right? Everything come back clear?”

“Clear as crystal, Chief,” Steve replies. “Got the uh, the A-Okay. Back to normal.”

“Uh-huh,” Hopper nods and then yanks Steve up by his shirt. “Then why’d Owens say you were a no show?”

Steve sputters. This is the first time Eddie’s ever seen him lost for words, but it doesn’t last as Steve scoffs, “That’s like a health code violation!”

He doesn’t get to say much else because Hopper pulls him out of the building. Eddie watches them argue in the parking lot and then pays his bill.

He’s leaving when Hopper marches back into the building but is luckily spared a glance from the chief. He’s not sure if Hopper even noticed him sitting there and he is fine with that.

What Eddie should do is get in his van and go home, but instead, he finds himself walking towards where Steve is waiting next to Hopper’s truck. As he gets closer, he sees that Steve is less waiting and more handcuffed to the side mirror so he can’t leave.

Steve rolls his eyes about the whole thing when he notices Eddie and then offers him a cig from the pack he stole out of the truck’s open window. Eddie shakes his head so Steve pockets the pack before asking, “You can pick a lock, right? I’ve seen you do it before.”

Eddie almost asks ‘when?’ but just sighs instead because…yes. He can.

Hopper returns to his truck five minutes later with coffee to an open handcuff dangling from his mirror. No kid in sight.

#list of Eddie’s weaknesses: (1) free food (2) pretty boys and (3) laryngitis #Would Eddie like to not be involved in whatever mental breakdown Steve’s having? yes #Does Eddie let Steve hide in the back of his van until Hopper leaves? also yes #meanwhile Hopper is just trying to make sure this kid’s brain doesn’t leak out his ears and he’s being fucking difficult about it #steve harrington #eddie munson #jim hopper #Let Steve Commit Crime AU

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coochiequeens · 4 months ago

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It's never too late to fill in the gaps in your education

By NIRANJAN SHRESTHA 10:34 PM EST, February 13, 2025

KATHMANDU, Nepal (AP) — Sushila Gautam, 77, checks her smartwatch, a gift from her son living in the United States, to see if she should leave for her reading and writing lessons.

“At home, I get bored when my son and daughter-in-law go to work and grandchildren are at school. I want something to do,” she says with a smile.

When Sushila was young, girls in her village weren’t sent to school.

Sushila Gautam, 77 laughs as she becomes nervous before writing her name on the board during a writing practice in a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Elderly women attend a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Kamala K.C, 66, writes on a note book during a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

For about a year now, she has been going for free lessons near her home on the outskirts of Nepal’s capital Kathmandu, at the Ujyalo Community Learning Center. The center was set up three years ago by the local council to provide basic education to women like her.

“Now, I finally have the chance,” says Sushila.

She can now read signs in English and Nepalese, is able to check her heart rate on a smartwatch, and use a smartphone. But the skill she is most proud of is her ability to sign her name on official documents. Previously, she had to put thumbprints.

A woman writes her name on a note book provided by her teacher before the start of a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Bimala Maharjan Bhandari, who runs the center, says she had difficulties at first to convince women to join.

“I had to tell them that being able to read phone messages, product labels and signing documents can benefit the whole family,” Bhandari said.

Women attend a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

An elderly woman Sushila Gautam, 77, attends a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Women attend a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Women sit at desks reading aloud from their Nepali language textbooks, following their instructor. Some write down simple sentences in their notebooks. During a break, they file out of the classroom to play soccer on a small hard court.

Bhandari believes that the center encourages friendship and physical well-being among the learners, creating a supportive environment for personal and collective growth.

Women play football during a break at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Chandra Kumari Ghimire, 71 plays during a break at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Among the older students is 88-year-old Thuli Thapa Magar, who has spent her entire life as a homemaker. She, like Sushila, never went to school and was illiterate before joining the center.

She is proud of the fact that she is finally learning.

88-year-old Thuli Thapa Magar, left and other women leave after attending a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

An elderly woman reads a text book before the start of her class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

An elderly woman student worships a picture of Saraswati, Hindu goddess of wisdom and education before the start of a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Women write their names on the board during a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

An elderly woman attends a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Elderly women attend a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

A woman drinks water during a break from her class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

An elderly woman student offers a pen and money as a gift during Saraswati puja, worshiping day of Goddess Saraswati for wisdom and knowledge, celebration at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

A man watches as women play football during a break at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Kanchi Lama, 78, participates in a class at the Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 3, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

Thuli Thapa Magar, 88 left and Kanchi Thapa Magar, 70 wave as they leave Ujyalo Community learning center in Kathmandu, Nepal, Feb. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Niranjan Shrestha)

#Nepal #Ujyalo Community Learning Center #Women and literacy #Denying girls an education #Saraswati the Hindu goddess of wisdom and education #Saraswati puja #Long article but the pictures are worth it

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bucketbueckers · 1 month ago

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ONLY MINE

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: filth, azzi and reader are just down bad asf there's no real top just vibes, nipple play, ab riding, oral, teasing, freaked out as fuck, academic validation as aftercare, kinda short and not proofread 😕 i apologize to paige bueckers and paige bueckers only

wc: 5.3k

synopsis: After bombing your most recent thermodynamics quiz, you’ve been locked in and busy on practice sets and worksheets in preparation for the next one. Maybe a little too busy, in fact, because your girlfriend is feeling needy and neglected, and, well, who are you to deny her any longer?

notes: i am not an engineer. yes i spent 10 minutes scrolling through sample thermodynamics practice sets to find a word problem that appears once (1 time) in this fic. im not just committed to the bit. i am married to it. yaps aside, i am trying my hardest to be responsible and stay on top of my classes LMAO 😭 butttttt i hope you like this ⬇️ anon (and good luck on your finals goat)!! im working on time management so i definitely will not be writing as much as i used to but i am still chronically online. feel free to send in an anon to say hello but as always i hope y'all like this one and happy pazzi hard launch day to those who celebrate 🫶

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia. Determine the outlet temperature (F) and the specific entropy difference (Btu/lbm-R) between the outlet and the initial status. Assume steady state, steady flow, negligible heat transfer, and negligible changes in kinetic and potential energy.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hopelessly lost.

The word problem stares unblinkingly at you. You’ve been meticulously working through this problem set for the past five hours, only pausing to use the restroom, refill your water bottle (because apparently you hydrate really well when you don’t know what the fuck’s going on), and grab a healthy, energizing snack (a handful of Starburst), but it’s starting to feel like you’ve been staring at this worksheet for years.

You never really struggled this much with a class. Math, physics, chemistry, you name it – there was always a pattern that you were good at isolating and exploiting. It made solving problems a lot easier, but thermodynamics? Figuring it out was taking a lot out of you. To make matters worse, nothing seems to help, either. Not even your go-to tutors on YouTube who could explain quantum physics to a five year old with little difficulty.

At this point, you’re convinced it’s just some weird energy in the universe that has severed the connections between your brain cells. This couldn’t possibly be your fault. You bombed your thermodynamics quiz on Wednesday, which was strange because you’d walked into the lecture hall with the confidence of a man who was sure he knew where the clit was. Maybe you were a little tense – who wouldn’t be? You were juggling four classes, a TA position for a calculus course, and research into reaction engineering.

A heavy workload never deterred you, though. Not to the point of failing a quiz you thought you’d pass with flying colors. And nothing else had really changed for you either. Your routine was basically the same, you studied for the same amount of time, exercised and ate properly. Your girlfriend, Azzi, did have a string of away games that kept her out of Storrs for about a week and a half, but saying she’s the reason for your poor performance is kind of ridiculous, even if you do sleep better when it’s next to her or because she always listens to you ramble even if she has no idea what you’re talking about.

Now, Azzi is back, and she doesn’t have another away game for about two weeks. That’s a fact that would otherwise excite you, but you’re just trying to pass your classes. Your scholarship relies on your GPA, and without your scholarship, you might as well kiss UConn goodbye. You and Azzi were always intentional about understanding each other’s schedules. Basketball was demanding, possibly more demanding than engineering considering travel and recovery, so the both of you tried to maximize the amount of time you were able to spend together, even if it just consisted of Azzi quietly watching film next to you while you worked through your homework.

After burying your head in your hands, rubbing your temples, and reminding yourself of how sexy future you would look sitting courtside at one of Azzi’s WNBA games, chatting with the other WAGs like, “Oh, Dr. Fudd? Yes, that’s me,” you reach for your iPad with a deep sigh, rereading the word problem once more. Then you write down what you know. P₁ = 100 psia. P₂ = 20 psia.

Your hand stalls. You check the formula sheet, the swirl of letters and deltas and constants making your head ache. You blink again.

Your pen falls onto the couch cushion next to you as you heave another shuddering sigh, feeling like you’re about to crash out. You can’t fathom why this is so difficult for you.

Azzi’s voice is sudden, soft – it would otherwise startle you if you weren’t ready to be swallowed up by the ground and never return to earth. “I think you need a break,” she says, her voice coming from somewhere behind you, and you can hear the gentle footfalls of her sock-clad feet as she makes her way closer to you. Her hands find your shoulders, kneading gently, and you sigh again – this time in relief – as you melt into the couch.

“Can’t,” you mutter, grunting when her thumb catches on one of the knots. “I’ve already taken like…a million just from zoning out and losing my mind. Wasted enough time.”

You don’t have to see her face to visualize the amused, if not slightly concerned smile gracing her lips. “Are you not also wasting time by forcing yourself to work when it’s getting you nowhere?” she murmurs, her lips closer to your ear now. For that, you truly have no rebuttal, and she presses a lingering kiss to the edge of your jaw. Humming to yourself, you tilt your head, baring your throat, and her lips trace a deliberate path down the curve of your neck.

Her hands leave your shoulders, smoothing down your chest, and you intertwine your fingers together, getting lost in the heady scent of her perfume. You’d missed her – you really did. You and Azzi have been together long enough that you’re used to her having to travel a lot, but sometimes, it takes a little bit longer for your body to catch up and get the memo, too.

“Take a break,” Azzi whispers, her tone pleading, edged with a sort of neediness that makes you want to give in. You almost do – the warmth of her lips against your skin and the weight of her hands over your chest turning your brain into mush. “Let me take care of you. You’ve been so busy lately. You’re wearing yourself out.”

The first part of her statement has you ready to turn off your laptop and give Azzi whatever she wants from you. But the second? All it does is remind you about the quiz you’d just failed, the fact you have another quiz in less than a week, and how you’re not any closer to understanding the material. It sobers you instantly.

“Later,” you whisper, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Azzi – God, it’s all you’ve wanted to do since she got back to Storrs, but you knew you’d just fall into shitty time management problems if you didn’t get your work done.

“Babe,” Azzi complains, her tone exasperated and needy all at once. Her grip on you tightens ever so slightly, leaning fully against the couch to press her cheek to your temple. You fall back into her, your eyes slipping shut despite yourself.

“Sorry, Az,” you say apologetically, turning your head slightly to kiss the closest patch of skin you can reach, which happens to be the hinge of her jaw. She sighs softly, then brushes her lips across your forehead before releasing you. You miss the contact immediately but she makes her way to the front of the couch and sits down on the cushion next to you. Intertwining your fingers to get her attention, you squeeze her hand gently. She glances over, doe eyes wide, simmering with a heat and want that makes your stomach flip. “Let me finish this problem, then I’m yours. I promise.”

She crosses one leg over her knee, a petulant expression on her face as she sinks into the cushions. “Better be worth it, Dr. Fudd,” she grumbles, which makes you smile a little. You plant a chaste, innocent kiss on her lips, smirking when she chases after you. You release her, reaching for your pen and your iPad again, but you swear you hear her muttering under her breath, “Cockblocked by an engineering assignment. This is what I get for dating a smart person.”

Her indignance and impatience amuses you, which just motivates you to finish this problem as quickly as you can. You start over again, rereading the problem and isolating the facts that you know. You check your formula sheet again, struggling to find the one you need given what you have and what variable you want to solve for. All the while, you can feel Azzi’s gaze on you, dark and beseeching. It honestly makes it difficult to focus – knowing you have your very needy girlfriend sitting on the couch next to you and begging for one ounce of attention, but you know she’ll thank you later when you’re a super rich engineer and you build her a custom library in the house you’ll share together.

(Granted, she’ll be a super rich baller, so she wouldn’t exactly be hurting financially without you and she could get the library, but as long as you were around, you were committed to ensuring that Azzi wouldn’t have to lift a finger.)

Azzi allows you to struggle in peace. You make zero progress, just as she predicted. You read a few pages in your textbook. You watch a YouTube video on the process and still, you get nowhere. Already feeling a little frustrated, you try another approach.

But then Azzi’s palm finds your thigh. It breaks your focus immediately – not like it wasn’t already hanging by a thin thread – and you glance over at her, one brow raising in amusement. She doesn’t look the least bit remorseful about distracting you; in fact, she’s wearing a smug little smile that breaks down all of your defenses. “You promised, Az,” you remind her.

“You promised, too,” she declares. The confusion must be clear on your face because she explains, “Girlfriend code. You have a duty to give me attention.”

“Oh, do I?” you echo, biting your lip to stifle a smile.

Azzi’s dead serious, though. Her eyes meet yours, temptation laced in her pupils, a pout tugging at her lips. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to stand your ground against that, but you have to pretend to have some sort of academic responsibility.

“You do,” she confirms. “Agreed to it when you said you loved me, in fact.”

“I wasn’t aware that was in the fine print,” you respond, tangling your fingers with hers before she has the chance to inch her palm further up your thigh.

Azzi narrows her eyes at you. “Well, it is,” she insists. “And I want you.”

“Is that what this is about?” you murmur teasingly. “My girl needs me?”

Azzi nods, her expression a devastating mix of hopeful and needy, and it makes you ache. But you glance down at your iPad, at the word problem staring back at you — unsolved — and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss her again, your free hand reaching to cup her jaw, and she melts into you instantly. You draw back just before it grows too intense, murmuring, “After this problem.” You’re sure that Azzi almost fucking growls, her brows drawing together tightly. In any other situation, you’d find it endearing, but you can’t help but feel guilty. You have work to do, and you know that Azzi wouldn’t let you rest until the sun is in the sky again. “Sorry, baby.”

But Azzi is out of rationale — and patience. She leans away from you long enough to shut the lid of your laptop on the coffee table, then she yanks your iPad out of your hands. It lands somewhere on the far end of the couch as your pen clatters harmlessly onto the floor, rolling somewhere out of view, and you hardly have the time to react before Azzi straddles you in one quick motion. Her lips are on yours immediately. You gasp, hands reaching out to grip her hips, and she swallows the moan that tumbles from your mouth.

Her hands are around your neck, drawing you in closer to her, yours roaming across her sculpted thighs, tightening in the loose fabric of her shorts. They ride up on her legs the more she presses against you and you take advantage of the miles upon miles of tanned skin laid before you. It makes you keen, sighing into her mouth, and Azzi slips her tongue inside, brushing against yours.

It’s all heat from there — Azzi’s hips roll against yours in a slow, methodical grind, her fingers trailing down your chest to tangle in the hem of your shirt. She breaks away from your mouth, lips swollen, spit-slick and urgent as she mutters, “Off, please.”

You don’t have the words to deny her, not that you would in the first place. Not when you can feel the heat of her core against your thigh, the dampness that’s seeped through her underwear and shorts all at once. Pulling away from her, you raise your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off, intent on getting your hands back on her, but Azzi stops you with a palm to your chest — your bare chest, having neglected a bra for comfort that morning.

Her eyes are glazed over, pupils dark and wanting. The way she stares shamelessly would make you feel insecure and vulnerable if you weren’t able to read the desire in her features, the way her jaw goes slack at the sight of you. It’s not new — Azzi has seen you in various states of undress over the course of your relationship. A sheer bikini on cruises, in nothing but her jersey and a flimsy pair of her boxers, or as naked as the day you were born. It doesn’t matter how many times Azzi has sat upon your lap with your breasts cupped in her hands like she’s holding the world in her palms – she thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and if you had any sensibility, you’d probably ask, “Has she seen herself?”

Not wanting to be alone in your nakedness, you reach for the hem of Azzi’s shirt, glancing up at her through your lashes for permission. She nods quickly and you don’t waste anymore time before pulling the dark blue shirt off of her, your own jaw going slack as you take her in. She’s all muscles and tanned skin, firm sinew in most places yet soft in others. You want to get your hands on her immediately, so you do – pressing heatedly against her stomach, grazing her belly piercing and the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against you like you can’t get enough of her skin against yours.

She reaches for your wrists to pull your hands off of her body. You make a noise of protest, but she silences you with a deep kiss, insistent and hungry as she shifts to the side, tugging you down on top of her now as she positions herself against the pillows and the armrest at the end of the couch. The change has your head spinning, especially when Azzi pushes her knee between your legs, the muscle of her thigh dragging against your clit in a way that’s almost devastating.

Your entire body is pulsing, suddenly aware of the need building in your body. It feels like it’s taken root in your bones. Like all you’ve needed these past few weeks were Azzi, not anything else. And judging by the way her fingers slip under the waistband of your sweatpants, pressing firm against your skin and tugging the restricting material down? Azzi is more than willing to give herself to you – in whatever way you need it.

You try to grind down onto Azzi’s thigh, searching for the contact, but she takes your hips in your hands, perching you precariously over her body, only inches away from what you need. You break away from her lips long enough to brush your mouth across her jaw, finding her ear to beg, “Please, Az, need it.”

A smirk curls her lips, slow and smug. The tables are turned now – she’d spent so long asking for you to put your assignment down, and now you’re the one pleading for her to touch you. Azzi is a competitor by nature. You may never truly understand how much she enjoys watching you break beneath her.

“Where have I heard that one before?” she murmurs, dragging heated kisses across your chest, lips wrapping around a nipple as you open your mouth. Your next words get caught in your throat, a moan taking its place, and you curl a hand around Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer to you.

“‘M sorry, baby,” you gasp in between stuttered breaths, your hips twitching when she bites gently at your bud. Azzi hums against you, sending vibrations up your spine as your body arches into her mouth and her wandering hands. Remembering where you are, you allow your hands to drop from Azzi’s neck down to her waist, fingers hooking into the band of her shorts. “Lemme make it up to you,” you plead, trembling with need. You want so badly to pull these shorts off of her, but she hasn’t given you the all clear yet. You may be the one on top and the one who wants to please her, but if she wasn’t going to allow you, there was little you could do.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” Azzi mumbles instead, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and one of her hands reaches up to rub the spit across the bud while her lips trail to the other one, biting gently to make you shudder. Your breath catches, hips still hovering overs hers. “Dripping all over me while I take my time. Do you think I could?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, arching into her hands again, moaning when she pinches you with the right amount of pressure to send white hot desire to your core. Your head falls onto her shoulder, fingers abandoning her waistband to brace yourself against the couch cushion for stability. “Whatever you want, Az, just make me come – please.”

It wouldn’t take much. You’re already worked up, both from Azzi’s efforts and the stress of the week melting away into something softer. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed this – the break away from your homework to breathe and just be. But you feel Azzi’s smile growing against your skin, her tongue poking out from her lips to circle your nipple, before she whispers, “Another time, maybe,” and she pulls you onto her bare stomach.

The first press feels like fire. It punches a gasp out of you, pleasure and relief coursing through your veins in simultaneous streams. Azzi’s abs are firm, inviting, and you rut against them desperately, needing to get off. Your aching clit catches against the piercing on her navel and a wrecked moan spills from your lips. Azzi’s muscles contract, providing you with a harsher slide, and your eyes all but roll into the back of your head when she carefully bites down on your nipple, her fingers rolling the other.

The free hand not occupied with your chest curls around your waist, helping pull you down against her. Eventually, Azzi begins to control your pace as you’re struggling to keep yourself up, and the sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible. You’re impossibly wet, sliding against Azzi’s stomach with little resistance, angling your hips to get the best friction against your clit. You wrap your arms around her neck, tears pooling in your eyes because it feels so good, and holding on is all you can do, moaning breathlessly into her ear.

Azzi pulls away from your chest with a wet noise, her lips swollen and slick, eyes glazed over with want. It makes you breathless for an entirely different reason now. You’re the only person who gets to see Azzi like this, needy and determined to make you fall apart. You were the first, but to know that you’re also the last? You will your hips into a firmer grind, the slight possessiveness making your head spin.

But then she releases you, something dark, smug, but also reverent clouding her expression. “Take it,” she murmurs, leaning back against the armrest slightly. She’s no longer holding you up by the hips, but her hand lingers at your chest, tweaking and pulling your bud until it juts out firmly, wet with her spit. “You wanted this so bad? Show me. Take it.”

Groaning, you tighten your grip on her shoulders, pressing yourself further against her body for stability as you rock into her. Her face is screwed up, sweat beading at her temples, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the heat of the room or from the sheer determination of clenching her abs. Either way, you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to hers, swallowing her indulgent moan as you chase your high.

Her piercing catches against your clit again, causing you to lose your rhythm momentarily. Azzi bites your lip once in warning as she orders, “Faster.” Your thighs and core burns from the exertion, but the desire coursing through your veins motivates you. When your pace returns to her liking, she rewards you with a blinding smile and a “So good for me, baby. You wanna come?”

You nod shakily against her, forehead pressing into hers, and she kisses you once more – slow, lingering, filthy like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste when you’re desperate for her. Azzi takes your hips in her hands again and she aids in your rhythm, pulling you onto her harshly, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm until a cry rips from your throat. “So close, Az,” you whine, meeting her eyes. They’re more black than brown, her pupils blown wide, and the sheer need reflected there makes you weak. “Please, please, please, Azzi.”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her voice dangerously sweet compared to the way she’s dragging you across her stomach. “Take what you need. Gonna give it to you, you know that.”

And that’s all you need. You rut against her once more, twice, your jaw dropping with pleasure, body tingling as you fall apart over her. You press your lips to hers to silence your cries and she swallows each and every whimpered sound like it energizes her. She’s still guiding you, her movements slowing now, letting you ride out the aftershocks as you come back down to earth. You’re a little boneless, your forehead pressing to her clavicle, and she ghosts a kiss across your temple as she rubs your back soothingly.

Clearly, Azzi can’t seem to help herself, because she presses a smile to the crown of your head as she jokingly mutters, “So much better than homework, right?”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and you try to not think too hard about the fact that your throat feels scratchy and rough. “Much better,” you agree, feeling the weightlessness and ease seep into your bones, something deliciously heavy and comforting that makes you feel refreshed. New. “You’re so needy. Couldn’t wait twenty minutes.”

Azzi gasps indignantly. “I’ve waited like, two weeks!” she exclaims, nudging you halfheartedly. “A girl has needs, you know.” She says this last part with a snooty raise of her nose, which makes you shake your head, giggling again as you press a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. She chases after you when you pull away, but the distance makes her eyes narrow, brows pulling together like she’s just realized something. “You couldn’t wait either. It was all ‘please, Azzi,’ this, ‘make me come, Azzi,’ that. You’re dirty.”

That makes you lean away from her, disbelief in your features. “Me?” you echo, aghast, fully aware that the both of you are arguing like toddlers at this point. “You’re dirty. You made me ride your abs–” Azzi raises a challenging brow which has you backtracking immediately. “Okay, I don’t know about made me. That was really hot, by the way.” You punctuate your point with another kiss, one that lasts not nearly long enough so you can get back to the point you were trying to make. “Also, you should probably disinfect your piercing.” Azzi hums, arms curling around your waist, and she ghosts her lips across your collarbone as you continue to defend yourself. “Either way, you’re still dirty.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything. She glances at you with an amused grin, then glances down at her stomach, where she glistens from a mixture of your slick and her sweat. Mostly your arousal, though. A flush creeps up your neck at the sight. You hadn’t registered how soaked she was. Having made her point, she swipes her finger through the mess, raising it to the light as if inspecting it. “You did this and I’m the dirty one?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, but the corners of your lips quirk up with amusement. Her smile softens, but morphs into one of confusion when you slide down her body, knees pressing into the cushions in between her legs. “Let me make it up to you?” you offer, palming her thighs, fingers slipping under the waistband of her shorts once more. You can tell that her breathing has picked up, her mood shifting as easily as you crawled down.

“Yes, please,” she affirms, lifting her hips to help you pull her shorts and boxers down in one quick motion. You groan to yourself when her cunt is revealed to you – she’s soaked, her arousal having seeped into the cotton of her boxers, and you press a quick kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never,” you lie, and then tease her anyways. You avoid her cunt completely, opting to lick a thick stripe across her stomach, gathering the slick pooled there on your tongue.

It makes her hips jump up, her voice pitched and a little breathless with shock as she mutters, “Shit, baby…” You smile to yourself, glancing up at her through your lashes, taking in her wrecked expression and the way her pupils are blown wide. Azzi is gripping onto the couch cushion like she’s teetering on the edge of falling apart already.

You don’t stop until her stomach is clean. Before you can settle between her thighs again, she grabs you by the shoulders, hauling you up until she can kiss you again. Azzi deepens the kiss immediately, her tongue searching for yours, for the taste of you, and the moans greedily as you squeeze her hips.

When she breaks away for air, her chest is heaving, and she looks ruined, ready for you to give her what she’s been craving for two weeks. You plant a farewell kiss at the edge of her jaw before trailing your lips down her body, sucking hickeys into her skin, soothing each one with your tongue.

Finally, you reach her cunt, and the sight of her spread out before you makes your mouth water. She tangles her fingers through your hair, guiding you closer, and you don’t make her wait any longer before you kiss her clit gently, smiling when her hips buck. Your tongue swipes through her soaked folds, her body shuddering when you moan indulgently into her, and you wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her stabilized.

You fuck her like you’re starved – which you may as well be. Your nose brushes against her sensitive clit with every motion you make, making her cry out, her hand pushing you to the spot she likes as if you don’t know her body like the back of your hand. Still, you listen to the direction, allowing her to pull your head towards her clit. You suck it into your mouth, cheeks hollowing from the pressure, rubbing the broad side of your tongue over it when she moans softly.

Her thighs enclose around your head, the pleasure causing her hips to buck wildly, and this? You could die here, in between her legs, and you wouldn’t even be able to think of a better way to go out. Azzi’s cries are like music to your ears, her taste like nectar.

When her fingers tighten in your hair, her hips beginning to gyrate in search of her high, you press a little further into her, allowing her to grind against your tongue. Your hands rub soothing patterns against her abdomen, eyes slipping shut at the sound of her moans, and before you know it, she’s whining, “Close, baby.”

You take her free hand in yours, squeezing gently as her body trembles, and she holds onto you as she comes, her body melting into the couch cushions as you work her slowly, helping her come back down. You know Azzi gets oversensitive fast, so you listen for her cues, letting up on her when it becomes too much. Drawing back, you plant one last kiss to her thigh, her navel, her collarbone, then to her lips, where you feel her smile grow against you.

You smooth out her hair by her forehead where a few of the strands have escaped from the tie. Her eyes blink open, her gaze impossibly tender, her smile soft. It makes you fall a little bit further in love with her, which is probably a feat in and of itself. “Okay?” you whisper.

She turns her head to kiss your wrist. “Okay,” she confirms, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. Then, in a quieter tone of voice, she confesses, “Missed you.”

You kiss her cheek, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. “Missed you too, Az,” you respond. “Never travel for two weeks ever again.”

She laughs gently, her nails skirting across your skin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The both of you fall into a calm silence until you break it. “I’m sorry I neglected you,” you say genuinely, feeling a little remorseful. “I just wanted to get my work done, but I think I got a little too obsessive about it. You were right to say I wasn’t getting anywhere with it.”

“You know I understand your schedule,” Azzi says softly. “You have a lot to do. I just needed you.” She doesn’t say much else – and she doesn’t need to. That’s just the truth.

You smile a little as you kiss her jaw. “I know,” you murmur. “I’ll do better.”

She tightens her arms around you. “Good. You can start by helping me into the bathtub and ordering takeout.”

That makes you laugh, your nose brushing against her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” The room goes quiet again, nothing but the gentle hum of the AC and your breathing filling the space. The drag of Azzi’s fingers against your skin lulls you into a sense of peace, the pressure alleviating from your shoulders, and –

You pause. Your eyes blink open, your gaze falling onto your iPad. Pressure?

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia–

You close your eyes in disbelief, the gears in your brain turning at rapid speed. You’re so fucking dumb.

“Az,” you murmur. She hums, letting you know she’s listening. “Can I start a little later?”

“What?” she mutters, but you’re already reaching over to the coffee table, grabbing your iPad and the pen that had rolled under the table leg. Azzi sighs dramatically as she watches you open it, but she presses a smile to the crown of your head as you work through the calculations. It only takes you about a minute, but you circle your answer with finality, latching the pen to the magnet on the device and closing it. “An orgasm was all it took to get that brain working, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admit a little sheepishly.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she says with faux indignance, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

And all you can do is stare at her, a soft little smile on your face. Because you are. You really, really are.

#azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #azzi fudd smut #uconn wbb #ncaa wbb #Spotify

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windixie · 3 months ago

Text

nerdjo x reader ⟢ real man

"... did you know that a quasar emits more energy in a second than our sun will in its entire lifetime?"

"uh... sure?"

༄.° pairing . nerd! gojo x popular! reader (f)

⤷ summary . a low grade lands you a tutor session with the nerdiest boy at your university with the help of the best wingman, your professor, who knows that gojo is your only way of improving that 59.6% in your physics class. your annoyance soon turns into admiration and maybe something else as you find yourself enjoying the late night study sessions. but what happens when the physic sessions turn into sex education?

warning ⓘ tags . (18+), porn with plot me thinks, smut, gojo will give you second hand embarrassment bless his soul, protected sex that will lead to unprotected, masturbation, praise kink, oral, p in v, cream pie. sub gojo heh. jealous gojo. perv gojo. obsessive gojo.

⤷ wc . 4k (not proofread)

a/n . this is my first actual attempt to writing good smut. never got the hang of it so hopefully this turns out good. the 59.6% is specific because that is MY current grade and I might just kms if nerdjo doesn't help me out.

a/n . 2 I enjoyed writing the friendship buildup more than the actual smut :p

waking up to an email sent by your physics professor was not the best way to start off the day.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, with your morning voice attempting to read the title of the email as your blurry eyes adjusted to the bright screen of your phone. you weren't surprised when the subject was that you are being assigned a tutor. you were aware of your current grade, but you swore you would be able to raise it up. right after partying.

your roommate, and long term friend, peaks over your shoulder as she buttoned up her pants. "yikes, I'm surprised he hasn't admitted you to a tutor earlier, haven't you had the same grade for a while now?"

you sighed knowing she was right. your grade hasn't gone up even a percentage for the past two weeks.

'meet me in class before it begins today, perhaps 10 minutes before, ill be introducing you to your tutor and we'll discuss how things will work.'

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of your teachers desk awkwardly. "he'll be here soon, he's very punctual."

you nodded in acknowledgment. you wanted to play it safe and come a few minutes earlier than the given time written on the email. '10 minutes before class'. the said class begins at 9:40. it is currently 9:28.

he was punctual alright. the moment it struck the half hour, the door swung open to reveal a tall boy- no, a really tall boy. he had white hair and blinding blue eyes behind dorky glasses. despite his nerdy look, the boy had a few facial piercings. one on his eyebrow and his lip.

that's hot.

"satoru! come in, come" your professor gestured the boy to be next to you. satoru offered a small, shy wave, which you responded with a warm smile.

"so as we all know, y/n isn't doing so well in this class." you cringed feeling your face heat up. being exposed in front of someone as smart as satoru was the ultimate humiliation.

"here's what's going to happen. there is an upcoming review test before the final. you pass that and im 99.9 percent sure that you will pass the final with enough studying. I'll leave satoru to decide how the tutoring will work, but I expect you both to meet up at least four times a week."

four times a week? four times? a week. great.

session 1.

you dragged your body into the library with your tote bag full of textbooks and practice worksheets. the library was fairly crowded with students studying for upcoming exams. you being one of them.

making your way deeper into the study area, your eyes landed on gojo who was setting up the table with his headphones plugged in. you approached him but he didn't notice you.

"satoru..?"

no answer. he was in a completely different world with the way he was humming a tune which only brought you to your last resort.

you poked his shoulder lightly which caused him to jump a little, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

"oh! hi uhm im sorry..! I didn't notice you I was just uh setting up the table. is this place okay with you? we can always pick somewhere else if your uncomfortable with being way too-"

"no no its fine with me." you interrupted his babbling which you found endearing.

"right." he chuckled before sitting down which you followed.

"alright so what exactly are you struggling with?" he asked.

what are you struggling with? "everything" you answered honestly looking at the organized textbooks- all related to physics and.. digimon?

"so.. we can start off with the basics of fundamentals of motion. such as speed and distance and maybe add in some kinematic equations. you are familiar with newtons law, right?"

you nodded as you recalled to the only thing you remembered from this god awful class.

"okay so we can skip that.. but ill still explain a little bit of it towards the end, just to make sure."

that's how you spent your first session with the boy. he's amazing at explaining, learning more from him than any past lectures. the way he is so into it you can't help but space out at the way his lips move.

"for the equations, there are a few of them, ill give you three examples then write one of each so you can practice."

your eyes fixated at the way he neatly wrote down the letters.

"so uhm.. do I multiply or-"

"you subtract this from both sides."

"got it."

this was definitely going to take a while if you couldn't even handle the basics. you handed him back the sheet where you attempted the problems.

"seems like you have a bit of difficulty deriving the equations."

you sighed. how long has it been? forty minutes? and hour?

checking your phone you were surprised to see that only 15 minutes have passed?

'just kill me at this point' you thought.

"hey hey, no phones. can't have you getting distracted, hand it over"

"I was just checking the time! don't take it away pleaseee" you begged.

"you'll be tempted to check the time every five seconds, just hand it over." you reluctantly placed it in his hand. his fingers brushed against yours and you were surprised to see how soft his were.

"lets try again. this time ill watch you solve them so I can see where you start to go wrong."

2 hours have gone by and you finally grasped how to solve the equations involving motion and acceleration.

"good job!" the praise boosted up your confidence. "only took ya thirty practice problems but you got there." he teased as he adjusted his glasses. "thanks satoru." you rolled your eyes at him.

the way you said his name went straight into his head. both of them actually.

"we should wrap it up for today"

he reached into his bag pulling out a few sheets before sliding them to you. "try and finish these by wednesday, which will be our next session. oh-" the pale boy reached for his examples. "use these for reference if you forget again."

accepting the papers, you placed them in your folder before tucking it back into your bag. "thank you, I know i'm not the easiest to teach."

"non sense. you're the first person i've tutored to actually have motivation to learn."

"you've tutored others?" you tilted your head.

"course I have. anyways, study what we've gone over today. here's my phone number-"

"youre going to have to give me back my phone in order for that" you chuckled. it felt like satorus world paused for a second as he saw your smile.

"uh right.. sorry"

it felt great to have your beautiful cellular device in the comfort of your hands.

"I usually ignore my messages.. can I give you my instagram instead?" you asked.

satoru was a bit disappointed to not be able to have your phone number, but your insta was just as good. that way he'd be able to see pictures of you.

you both exchanged users, you with your whopping 2.3k followers and him with his 40. 41 including you.

he noticed that out of the 2.3k people that follow you, you only follow around 90. he felt honored that he would be one of the lucky ones to be blessed with your follow.

"great!" satoru couldn't help the dorky grin that crept up on his face. "text me if you have any issues with the work, mkay?"

multiple sessions have passed.

you felt yourself warm up with the boy, learning more about him and his nerdy interests and the upcoming 'name as many digimon characters as you can' contest that he's pumped for explained the character book you'd see every time you met up at the library.

which you both eventually ditched after accidentally catching a couple doing... activities one shouldn't be doing in a quiet environment.

satoru couldn't help but wish that was you and him.

you both settled for a nearby cafe where he always paid for your drinks and sugary treat which he's memorized by now.

"we should go over the vocabulary today" his fingers skimmed through several papers before pulling one out that had the key to all the words you had to remember.

you were progressing and you felt confident for the review and final which were both in three months.

"here write down the words on a separate sheet and try to answer them to see which you know and which you don't."

outside of your tutor sessions, you began saying hi to each other in the hallways, exchanging small smiles in class, and late night texts.

satoru [ 10: 37 PM]

-you complete the worksheets?

you [ 10: 40 PM]

-hi! I just need to finish up the last one then im all done

satoru [ 10: 41 PM]

-thats good, mind sending me what you've done?

you [ 10 : 45 PM]

[image attached]

-im actually at a party right now..

that led to a scolding from him the next day. he couldn't care less actually no matter how many times he said to restrain yourself from partying for now because of your studies. in reality, he just didn't want any boy to see you wearing whatever revealing outfit you decided to put on.

satoru would be lying that he wouldn't feel the way his inexperienced cock would harden whenever he would see the way your skirt would ride up your thighs as you sat so prettily in front of him.

you were completely unaware of how much you affected the poor boy.

"so how'd the contest go?"

"I won obviously. named all 1400 of em." he put his hands up in victory.

you laughed at how cute you found it. him being proud over beating a bunch of kids?

"what was the price?"

"a limited edition card. super rare by the way, you have like one in a thousand chance of getting it. here! I have it on me actually."

he pulled out a card that resembled Pokemon cards which he would get annoyed when you got the two of them mixed up.

"this is the ghost bt1 diamond. you can pick one out of any Digimon of your opponent or you can delete all the Digimon if they share a name with it."

his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his interests. and you loved that about him.

"sounds cool, how much is it worth?"

"hmm I think like 300 at most."

"yeah well I remember my brother has a Pokemon card that's worth 78 grand."

"do your damn work."

as you prepared to leave, he stopped you.

"here."

he handed you the digimon card making your eyes widen.

"you're giving it to me?"

"mhm, just remembered I already have a similar card that does the exact same as this one. no need for me to have it. besides I think it would look great on your phone case."

now, whenever he takes away your phone for your study time, he can't help but smile when he looked at the card neatly placed inside the clear case with a few stickers around it.

he’d find himself late at night in the comfort of his own dorm, with his hand hesitantly palming his growing bulge at the sight of your story. the picture was of you smiling cutely at the cafe you both went at. a picture he took.

you looked gorgeous. you are gorgeous.

he doesn't remember the last time he's jerked off. maybe once in high school when his favorite cosplayer dressed up as a beloved female character of his?

pulling out his needy length, he imagined it was you. a finger grazed upon his tip smearing the pre-cum a bit as he let out a few whimpers. would you hate him if you saw him like this? all horny and pent up because of your post? or would you help him?

no matter how much he stroked himself, he just couldn't finish. he needed you.

his eyes skimmed through various websites to help his situation out.

‘how to have the best orgasm in your life’

‘best stroking methods’

‘how the female anatomy works and how to pleasure it’

‘man finishes threehu-‘

wait what was that? he scrolls back up a bit clicking on the female anatomy one. he was met with several images. diagrams showing where the most pleasurable part was for a woman.

gojo hasn’t done this much studying since his calculus exam back in elementary. who the hell let’s a seven year old solve that shit?!

by the end of the day, his brain is now stuffed with knowledge on how to pleasure you. still zero clue on how he’s ever going to bust.

2 days.

2 days until you review test and you were.. stressed to say the least. thankfully you have gone over everything from the semester and gojo made sure that you were well prepared even offering to make you a cheat sheet, allowed by the professor, to help you out during the test just in case.

"toru."

fuck. when did you begin calling him that nickname? it made gojo feel lightheaded to the point where he had to grip the end of his chair as you approached him.

"hey I was wondering if we could study at my place tonight?" you asked sweetly.

“your place..? like, where you live?”

“I hope so?” you giggled.

“y-yeah i guess but why?”

you took a seat next to him placing your bag next to your feet on the floor.

“walked past the cafe and saw that it was closed due to some renovations”

“god i hope it’s the bathroom sink. that thing sprayed me”

you both laugh at the memory of him coming out the bathroom with his hair sticking to his forehead and clothes dampened. that was the first time you’ve seen him without his glasses.

you preferred him with them on.

but you couldn’t deny that either way he still looked so handsome especially when he rolled up his now wet sleeves of his black sweater revealing veins that adorned his arms.

“I hope so. anyways I’ll text you the address later.. or actually, we can walk together if you’d like?” you offered and who was he to decline?

“sure sweetheart.”

gojo recently picked up the habit of calling you sweet names which never failed in making your stomach leap in happiness. where’s he get the sudden habit?

‘how to fluster a girl.com’

god knows where.

your house wasn’t far from the campus since you’ve been planning on attending this university ever since you were a kid due to living 20 minutes away at a walking distance.

“my parents are away at a trip so we’ll have the house to ourselves”

fuck yeah.

“they doing a business trip or..?”

“it’s their anniversary. they flew out to france and didn’t even bother inviting me” you rolled your eyes playfully making the pierced boy laugh. he recently switched out his lip piercing after his last one fell off while drinking his coffee.

he took in your house as you arrived. looking at the memories plastered on the walls. this is where you grew up..

“want anything eat?”

you.

he shook his head. “I’m alright, I ate something not long ago.” you hummed while walking upstairs, him trailing behind just to get a glimpse up your skirt seeing the pink laced panties that made him let out a low groan. his pants were uncomfortable by the time you reached your room. it was a warm environment, posters on the walls, stuffed animals on the bed. the bed he would love to fuck you in.

“s’cute” he complimented placing his bag down before he stretched out his lanky body on your bed.

his sweater slipped up a bit revealing his v line as well as his white happy trail. your breath hitched as your eyes trailed down the patch of hair before landing on the raging boner that he had. no way.

was he hard?

despite having past experience yourself, no one has ever made you finish.

gojo propped himself on both his arms. “let’s just review what I taught you at the beginning first to freshen up your memory.” you barely took in anything he said as you approached the bed as well sitting down next to him before you felt bold. you shifted sitting down on his lap instead.

satoru let out a gasp before moaning. his hands found your hips immediately. “fuck.. what are you-“ he was cut off by your subtle grinding.

“we shouldn’t..” your heart sank a bit. “you don’t want this..? I’m just trying to help you toru.”

“I know baby but I haven’t.. well I’m.. I’ve never done t-this before, god..” he mumbled embarrassed. oh so that’s what this is. he’s a virgin. “I don’t mind.. let me help you”

“please-“

“shh..” you tugged at his jeans bringing down to his knees. “You’ve never done this before?” you asked letting your acrylics tease him through his digimon boxers.

“no.. no please fuck..”

his cute whimpers went straight to your heat as you finally tugged down his boxers only to be met with the biggest cock you’ve seen. it slapped his stomach the second it was released. he was thick. the pretty pink tip was slowly turning an angry red color as he panted.

you wrapped your hand around him stroking up and down his base watching him twitch. while keeping eye contact, you let some spit fall down his cock making him moan as you used your drool as lube. his hips bucked up as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him.

“t-that’s it..”

for the first time, your lips met in a sweet and needy kiss, your hand still working wonders on him. he placed a shaking hand on your ass cupping it making sure not to break the heated kiss.

“can.. can you ride me?” the way he asked shyly made you want to ruin him even more. you nodded watching him pull off his sweater. now by all means you had zero clue that this man was built as if god made him with his own hands. you did the same, quickly undressing before he stopped you.

“please.. please keep the panties on”

“you like em?”

“fucking love them.”

after carefully placing a condom you found in your drawer on him, you guided his tip to grind just right against you. “lift up your hips a bit toru.. just move them.. back.. and forth.. good job love”

the praise didn’t help Gojos situation at all. “keep praising me..” at this point his glasses were all fogged up. your finger hooked into your panties slipping them to the side so you could slip his cock in.

“so big..” you cood

“oh god, you’re right.. fuckkk baby wait.. wait wait” he moaned filling up the room with lewd noises. the plap, plap, plap echoed. large hands found your waist helping you ride him at a quick pace.

“shit.. you’re better than I imagined.” he groaned out biting your neck sweetly. “you’ve imagined.. this? ngh!” you were surprised to see him pick up the pace. “all the time.”

gojo thought back to the website he visited frequently. his finger found your clit circling it before rubbing it repeatedly. you head fell on his shoulder as you began to shake from overstimulation. “Toru..!”

“this is where you’re weak, right? most girls have an orgasm immediately after teasing the clit”

“ngh.. nerd..!”

“so sensitive”

the raspiness in his voice was enough to make you finish. for the first time ever. gojos hips stuttered as he pulled out watching your juices spill out. he brought his fingers to his mouth tasting you. “you taste good babe”

panting, you removed the condom from his still hard length before slipping him back in.

he wasn’t even half way in before ropes of cum went inside you making gojo close his eyes letting tears of being overstimulated fall down his pretty flushed cheeks.

“be my girl..”

four things happened that day.

you came for the first time

you took away gojos virginity

you were both now dating

you didn’t study at all

but the cheat sheet did help you out a bit. after finishing up the last question, gojo walked over to the teachers desk placing it on top of it. he was the first one out of everyone to finish, like always. he looked up to where you were seated.

there you were, more focused than ever biting your nail as you answered the equations as if it was muscle memory. he was proud, smiling to himself before leaving the classroom.

toru ! [ 7: 45 AM ]

-results are in today 👀

you [ 7:46 AM]

-im nervous… i think i failed it bro im so scared toru

toru ! [ 7: 48 AM]

-I doubt that sweetheart

and he was right because the second you received back your paper with a beautiful 92% written on top of it you felt like you were in heaven. you ran towards gojo wrapping your arms around him excitedly.

“I did it! look!” you showed him your paper.

“told you. good job am proud of ya” he grinned as he once again felt his cock throb at the way you were squeezing him. “what’d you get?”

“100%”

“show off.”

he barked out a laugh before placing his hands on your hips. “we should celebrate.” he suggested. “with cake?” he hummed tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his thumb rub on your cheek affectionately. “sure pretty.”

865 notes · View notes

vitaminkyeom · 4 months ago

Text

smarter, and yours || l.jh

“BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE MORE THAN FRIENDS WITH YOU, SUNSHINE”

PAIRING || Jihoon x Female Reader

GENRES || Romance, Humour, Enemies To Lovers AU, Academic Rivals To Lovers AU, Rich Kids AU

SUMMARY || Jihoon, school's no. 1 (or no. 2), was nothing but a pain in the ass for you. Sure he was better than you in some subjects but so were you. The two of you were equally good enough for the first place so to increase the competition, he decided to suggest the most scandalous thing you had heard: the two of you tutor each other.

Or, in which, you were the rich kid with your family's dignity on the line and he was the poor kid with his family's sacrifices on the line.

WARNINGS || swearing

WORD COUNT || 10.6k

A/N || HI EVERYONE! Never thought I would be writing an enemies to lovers of this size but here we are. This is for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab by @camandemstudios !! Thank you so much for letting me particpate and do check out all the other authors here. Also moving my taglist to reblogs until tumblr fixes this horrible glitch cus its messing with the aesthetics tbh

Cram school had to be the worst phase in a teenager’s life.

You looked out of the window aimlessly, trying to drown out the teacher’s voice. It was pitch dark outside and you couldn’t really see anything, except for your own reflection staring back at you. Your hair wasn’t out of place at all, neatly brushed and clipped to keep it out of your eyes. Your school uniform was crisp and clean, as though you had decided to come to your cram school straight from home, and not after a long day of school.

But then your eyes met your reflection’s and you felt the tiredness hit you like a truckload. Your eyes looked like you had been awake for a thousand years, your eyes carrying the weight of all your previous generations. Which… wasn’t wrong in a way.

You rapidly blinked at your reflection, trying to get rid of the sleep from your eyes. Sighing, you turned your head back to the board where the teacher was explaining Faraday’s principle of electromagnetic induction, and your eyes flicked up to the clock overhead.

7.55 pm.

Five more minutes until this physics class got over.

You could survive five more minutes, right? Sure physics was the subject you dreadest the most but hey, you could bear a few minutes of it. You were doing this for four years already so five minutes shouldn’t hurt at all.

Then you made the mistake of looking at your best friend’s book, lying next to your blank one.

Kim Mingyu scribbled down furiously the concept the teacher was explaining, adding his own words to it as an indicator that he was understanding everything being taught. You watch him glance up at the board and nod his head in approval to what was being said, before looking back at his book to solve the problem.

Immediately, you felt the familiar feeling wrap around your throat, stopping any air from entering your lungs. Your fingers balled into a fist, nails digging into your palm as you tried to suck in a breath without making any noise.

The last thing you needed was for the entire class to look at you and wonder why you were hyperventilating. Screwing your eyes shut, you began doing the exercise you had looked up on the internet for anxiety attacks.

Count from 10 to 1. Count from 10 to 1. Count from 10 to-

“You okay?” Mingyu’s voice broke the chain of your thoughts, snapping you out of your mantra as you opened your eyes to look at him, trying to cover your distraught look. But no matter how well you had practiced the art of hiding your feelings, there was no secret you couldn’t keep from Mingyu.

He mirrored your expression, widening his eyes in worry as he gently touched your shoulder, edging a bit closer to you.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact with him. Embarrassment flooded your cheek at the thought of you getting an anxiety attack just because your best friend was able to understand the class and solve the problem.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just stifled because physics is just so hard.” You lied, hoping he won’t think too much about it.

Mingyu smiled at you softly. “Don’t worry. I know physics is eating you up but hey you aren’t that bad. Not to mention, you’re the maths topper. You can score great marks in the other subjects. One subject won’t pull you down that much.”

You knew Mingyu was lying through his teeth to make you feel better because one subject could pull down your rank because of the amount of competition, but nonetheless you felt at ease at his reassurance. Yeah, you weren’t that bad in maths, and you could try a bit more harder and improve your physics, right?

Right then the bell rang, and the teacher yelled out a few instructions to the class but you were too busy grabbing your pen and book and dumping them in your bag. You scrambled out of the class right behind the teacher, even leaving Mingyu behind as you ran straight to the washroom.

No sooner had you flung the toilet door open you puked, your stomach hurling out your lunch. After what felt like an hour you forced yourself to stop retching, gasping for breath as you clutched your hurting stomach. Your heart was still beating like crazy and a bead of sweat dropped from your forehead.

Slowly getting up, you took in a deep breath to stop your body from trembling too much. You could hear some girls chatting outside the door, and embarrassment creeped into your cheeks.

Had they heard you? No one had seen you, right?

If people found out that you were having a panic attack just because of a physics class…

You waited until the chatter outside died down before opening the door and peaking, making sure the coast was clear. It was empty, indicating that break time too was almost over.

Quitely, you slip out of the washroom and back to your classroom, walking back to your bench. Mingyu was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was probably in the canteen, buying some milk for the two of you.

You sat there silently for a while, your breath and heartbeat returning to normal as you took in your surroundings. Your classmates were either playing with crumpled balls of paper or chatting to each other. Your eyes then fell on one particular boy, who was completely absorbed in his book, scribbling away furiously.

Your eyes narrowed at him as you felt a pang of jealousy. Suddenly, he raised his head up and turned to look at you, both of your eyes locking and causing you to freeze in place.

Lee Jihoon smirked at you, twirling the pencil in his hand as though he knew about the little episode you just had.

Why, that asshole-

He got up and started walking in your direction, and you hastily pulled out a book from your bag and opened it to a random page to pretend like you were… well, occupied.

But of course Jihoon had to come and sit down on the bench in front of you, turning to you as he rested his elbow on your book, his palm cradling his face.

“Hey.” He said, that smirk never wavering off his face. God, he was so infuriating-

“What do you want from me?” You asked, yanking the book from his weight.

“Can I not come over and tell hi to my friend?” His cocky voice caused you to look up at him dryly.

“The dictionary definition of friends would beg to differ from what we have.”

“Damn it. I was hoping you would be too high headed to look at a dictionary.”

You scoffed.

“Not as air headed as you though, because you’re clearly wasting break time chatting with me instead of studying. You’ll need every single second to beat me in the test series next week.”

Jihoon smiled at you, his eyes glinting in amusement. I ought to punch those pearly white teeth. “Next week’s? Why not this week’s? Didn’t do so well?”

“Shut up.” You fumed, seething with his rage as he brought up memories from this week’s exams. The anxiety you had felt a few minutes ago was starting to surface up and you were not going to lose in front of him. “I’m still going to beat you in maths.”

“But beating me in math alone won’t give you the first rank.” He beamed, as though already knowing tomorrow’s results. You knew too, to be honest. You were just blatantly lying right now to save your face.

This week had been a particularly hard week, your period cramps paired with the worst chapters in every subject for the exams. While writing the exam itself you knew you were doomed, and the pain had been eating you away ever since you finished writing the test a few hours ago.

Maybe that was the reason you had a panic attack?

“Falling once won’t mean my CAT scores have been thrown out of the window.” You argue back. It was okay to fail, right?

That’s how you always calmed yourself down. There was no learning without failing after all. You had to learn from your mistakes. Next time, you would be even more flawless-

But how many more times did you need to fail to become flawless? How many times did you need to beat Jihoon until your rank was permanently 1 and not fluctuating between first and second place?

“Yeah sure. We’ll see who gets the early admissions to SNU.”

“Look, if you’re here to insult me-” You began but he looked at you hurt. This man should have become an actor instead.

“Insult you? You’re the one who has been keeping me up all night, making sure I’m giving my hundred percent no matter what! I love what we have. I’ll never insult you.” Jihoon mocked, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Now that felt like an insult.”

“Why were you in a rush today by the way?” He asked suddenly.

“Wh-what?” You felt your cheeks sink in as you looked at him in horror. No way- There was no way he knew, right?

If Jihoon of all people knew then- No. It couldn’t be.

“After class.” He continued, completely unfazed by your reaction. He tilted his head at you, looking at you even more lazily if anything. “You ran out. It was almost like you were dying-”

“Jihoon.” A familiar voice cut him off and never had you loved your best friend more than right now as you turned back to see a Mingyu looking at Jihoon questioningly, as though urging him to continue saying whatever it was. “What are you doing here?”

“Is it illegal to talk to you both now?” Jihoon asked sarcastically.

“No… but bullying is.”

Jihoon’s face darkened at those words, and he glared at the two of you. “Bullying? I swear you high society kids are so stuck up that even having banter is considered bullying.”

“Well, Y/N doesn’t look like she’s enjoying your… ‘banter’ very much.”

He snorted, and stood up, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. “Fine then. Suit yourselves. I won’t bully you much if that is what is causing you so much trouble Y/N.” Giving the two of you a weird look, he walked away, going back to his bench and slumping off on his desk.

Inhaling deeply, you looked up at Mingyu and smiled. “Thanks.”

He smiled back at you, before placing a banana milk carton on the desk. “Here, I thought you weren’t feeling well so I brought some banana milk for you from the canteen.”

“Thank you!” You said, feeling a bit cheerful as you peeled off the seal and sipped it, the cold milk cooling you down just like how Mingyu had anticipated.

The door of the classroom opened again as the teacher walked in, and everyone scrambled to get to their places and greet the teacher.

As you stood up, your eyes fell on Jihoon. He looked really glum, like what Mingyu had said really offended him.

You took that as a win.

“L/N Y/N.” You flinched as the teacher spoke out your name, causing you to look up and stop rubbing your thumb finally. Sucking in a deep breath, you plastered a small, confident smile on your face before walking up to her.

Ms. Yun gave you a dry smile before extending the result sheet, and you felt your heart shatter almost immediately. Still, you just smiled back at her and took the sheet, walking back to your desk, not daring to look at your result.

Once seated (and glancing through the class quickly so that no one’s eyes was on you), you let your eyes fall onto the printed piece of paper in your hands.

Your stomach jumped.

2/246

Second place? Again? That would mean that Jihoon was-

Your grip on the paper tightened a little as tears blurred your eyes. No, no, no! I cannot cry here!

You knew it. You knew this would be the result. But still… you had hoped that maybe fate would be kind to you just this once.

You had drowned out your surroundings, staring at the numbers again and again as though if you looked long enough that two would change into one. What were you going to tell your parents?

Oh my god. What am I going to tell them-

“Y/N!”

You jerked at the sound of someone calling your voice, blinking rapidly so that there was no obvious wetness in your eyes. Your vision finally concentrated on a rather familiar face in front of you, and hatred kicked in almost as a self defense.

“Daydreaming much?” Jihoon asked, smirking at you as he tilted his head slightly.

“Not at all.” You said, smiling at him with the most fake smile you could muster. Through the corner of your eyes, you saw that most of your classmates had left, only a few going through their books one final time before leaving for break. “I don’t have that much time in my hand. Unlike you.”

“Oh well, then I must be really talented if I managed to get the first rank while daydreaming so much.” He laughed, the sound causing your heart to accelerate a little. His laughter was so annoying that you were sure you would end up with heart problems one of these days.

“Well, I did say I would beat you next week.” You said, trying not to raise your voice at him.

“You’ve been saying that to me since the beginning of this year.”

“Yeah well if you haven’t forgotten that first place was mine for the last few years.”

“And before that it was mine.”

“One year. In middle school.”

“Anyways,” you glance back at the report card. You had got second place in physics again, but first in maths. Well maybe that would be your saving grace in front of your parents. “Looks like no matter how much you try you cannot beat me in maths though.” You gave him a little smirk, leaning in a bit as though you were about to share a big secret.

“How are you acing in physics after being so bad in maths, huh?”

Now it was Jihoon’s time to scoff. “It’s the second rank. I’m just behind you by a few marks.”

“Sure you are not by hearting physics numericals?”

Jihoon leaned, suddenly catching you off guard by how close both of your faces were. But you didn’t let your expression change. “That seems like something you would do, to be honest.”

You moved away from him, raising your hand in defeat. “Well, I admit I’m, ah, a bit weak in physics. But you don’t want to accept defeat no matter what.”

“Ahahaha, I just want to admit to you. Funny how our weaknesses are complimentary, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, it’s almost like fate wants us to always be able to pit against each other.” You joked, folding away your report card and slipping it into your bag.

“Hmmm.” Jihoon agreed, looking out of the window. You watched him for a few seconds, taking in his features. His hair moved slightly from the light breeze blowing in, and you realised with a jolt just how soft and dreamy he looked right now.

Wait, what-

You banged your elbow against the table to drop your pencil case, immediately diving down to retrieve its contents. You felt like your cheeks were on fire and the last thing you needed was Jihoon to see you like this.

Why were your cheeks heating up in the first place?

Once you collected your (two) pens, you sat under the desk for a few seconds, trying to get rid of the heat on your cheeks. Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath-

“What are you doing?” Suddenly Jihoon appeared, crouching next to you, looking at you in surprise because who took so much time to pick up their pens and pencils?

“Ah!” You yelped, jerking away from him a little before offering him a sheepish smile. “I, uh, I was… just picking up my pencils!”

“Oh?” He looked confused, all cockiness from his face gone as though there was nothing to make fun of in this situation.

“Uh…yeah!” You laughed awkwardly as you showed him the pens, and he too nodded after a few seconds. “Man, you sure are slow even in daily tasks like these.”

There. There was the Lee Jihoon you knew.

“By the way, do you want to tutor each other?” He asked suddenly, sitting down on the floor as he looked at you eagerly.

Now it was your time to be confused. “Huh?”

“You know… I help you with physics and you help me with maths?”

“Huh?” You asked again, not sure you had heard correctly. Helping… each other?

Was it legal to fraternise with the enemy like this? And… tutoring each other in the weak subjects felt diminishing the competition you both had.

But then again… you really needed help with physics. Cram school wasn’t enough for you clearly, and hiring a personal tutor would mean seeing your parents waste even more money on you. You were willing to do anything to save your face. Forget your reputation, the least you could do was swallow your pride and save your family’s reputation.

“Help each other. Let’s put aside our differences and work together… at least for a month?” Jihoon explained again.

“Oh. Sure… sounds good to me.” You said. “Uh, maybe we could start from this Sunday?”

“Sure. But your house.”

“Huh? Why not the study cafe?” You asked, surprised.

“Because I'd rather be dead than be caught studying with you.” He smirked again, as though that should have been self explanatory. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Okay, but you could have been nice and invited me over to your house instead.”

At this he laughed. But when he saw that you weren’t laughing with him and just looking at him confused, he stopped, his face darkening once again. “My parents will be at home and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Now you nodded, understanding the situation. “I get it. Lucky for us, my parents won’t be home this Sunday so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Cool then.” He said, before walking away from you, hands in his pocket as though you two hadn’t just decided to set aside your life long differences and help each other out instead.

“That’s it?” You called out, feeling a bit annoyed at how nonchalant he was while you had been overthinking if this deal was worth it.

Jihoon turned back. “What do you want?”

“No goodbyes?”

“Oh please.” He rolled his eyes, before smirking at you, causing your blood to boil once again. “We aren’t friends.”

You heard footsteps before the knock on the door, your stomach already dropping in fear. Your heart raced as you rubbed your thumb repeatedly, the page you were reading going completely blur no matter how much you tried to focus on the words in front of you.

“Y/N?”

Forcing your cheeks up for a smile, you turned on your chair to look at your mother standing by your door.

“You’re back?” You asked, trying for a small talk to calm down your nerves.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she had a long day at work-

“Where is your report card?”

“Uh, in my- in my bag-”

“Thought I told you to keep it on my table immediately after you return from school?” Your mother said, narrowing her eyes at you. You felt your heart give an anxious squeeze, but you just gave her a small smile in an effort to reduce the tension in the room.

You walked up to your bag and pulled out the report card, biting your lips as your stomach turned. What was she going to say? Would she understand if I told her what actually happened-

“What are you doing!” You heard your mother snap at you and before you could even react you felt her snatch it away from your hand.

“I-” You began but your mother’s eyes widened, face suddenly livid with anger.

“Second? Again?” She screamed, causing you to flinch.

“I- I can explain! I wasn’t feeling well!” You said, even though you could feel your stomach sinking to the depths of hell quite literally.

“Oh, really?” Your mother laughed, the sound causing you to flinch and take a step back as fear wrapped itself around your heart. “And what was the excuse last week? Right, that you were weak in a chapter-”

“Well, I’m not lying!” You exclaimed, your voice rising out of panic. “I’m not lying, I swear!”

“Then when will you get strong, Y/N? Huh?” Suddenly your mother grabbed your shoulders, her fingers digging painfully into your flesh and you tried your best to stop the tears threatening to well your eyes.

When will you get strong? When will you?

“Answer me!” She screamed, shaking you by your shoulders. But now her face wasn’t angry anymore. It was just… hurt and disappointment.

You felt your will completely crumble and the tears rolled down.

“When will you get better?” Your mother’s voice dropped to whisper as she stared at you intensely. “When? Don’t your father and I try hard enough for you? Don’t we give you everything you want? Then why can’t you do this simple thing?”

“I- I’m trying.” You whispered, sniffling as you felt more tears glide down your cheeks.” I swear I’m trying.”

“Then try harder!” She screamed once again, causing you to flinch. “Try till you are out of breath, try till you can’t take it anymore, try till you feel like dying, you worthless piece of-”

“I came first in maths!” You interrupted her, hoping she would see some hope in you.

Suddenly you felt a sharp sting on your cheek as you stumbled to your right by the force of your mother’s slap. Blood rushed to your ears as you slowly lifted your fingers to touch your burning cheek, looking at your mother in horror.

“You disgust me so much.” She whispered, and you felt your world crack. She doesn’t mean it, she doesn’t mean it, she doesn’t mean it-

Sighing, your mother walked out of the room and shut the door behind her with a bang.

Your knees gave away almost immediately as you crumbled on to the floor, the first loud sob escaping you. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you cried, the tears coming down fast.

It hurt so much. So much.

You tried so hard to make your parents proud. Not to be a disappointment. They always sacrificed so much for you. Then where were you going wrong? You always worked so hard. Then why couldn’t you be first?

Why couldn’t you be like Jihoon?

Sucking in a huge breath to control your crying, you clutched your heart at the painful thought of him.

Jihoon.

Always at ease, Lee Jihoon.

Studying must be so easy for him, with how smart he was. He didn’t even need to struggle like you. He didn’t need to throw up after every test, lose breath every time he was unable to solve any problem or cry his eyes out because he was a disappointment to his parents and they hated him.

Life must be so easy for him.

You hated him. You hated him so much.

You buried your face in your hands as another sob escaped you and you felt the entire world darken around you.

You were such a failure.

As soon as the doorbell rang, you found yourself sprinting to open the door. (You totally were not sitting in the living room waiting for him.

You opened the door with a rush, and found yourself staring back at a surprised Jihoon.

“Wow, that was quick-” He began but you cut him off to distract him. “Hey!”

Jihoon smiled at you, tilting his head a little like he always did. “Hi.”

“Come in!” You squeaked, not sure why you were feeling so nervous. Actually the fact that Jihoon would come over had you feeling jittery but now that he was actually here, you felt slightly light headed for some reason.

Was the academic tension finally getting to you?

Jihoon stepped into the house, eyes glancing around as though taking in his surroundings.

“Don’t worry.” You said, closing the door behind the two of you. “I don’t have any booby traps hidden here to get rid of you or something.”

“How do I know that?” Jihoon asked, turning to look at you with a smirk. There was his goddamned smirk again. “You might want to get rid of your competition for all I know.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “The study room is this way.” Walking in front of him, you led the way. “Besides, if I needed to get rid of competition, then I would need to blow the whole country.”

“Oh please, I’m your only competition. No one is as intelligent as you.”

The two of you were climbing up the stairs to your study room when you froze, slowly turning to look down at him.

“You- you think I’m intelligent?” You asked, your voice almost sounding hollow.

Jihoon blinked at you, as though that was a stupid question to ask. “You are literally the topper of the school, what are you even talking about?”

You huffed out a breath, not knowing you were holding in your breath. “Forget it.” You mumbled before quickening your pace on the stairs. You heard Jihoon run up the stairs until he was right beside you, and he leaned in slightly towards you.

“Come on, just because I am beating you in the past few tests you cannot think you are unworthy, can you?”

There was no way Lee Jihoon was praising you, right? “I said forget it.” You said, opening the door to your room. Then you turned to him. “And besides, if I was one of the smartest, how come I am so bad at physics? I’m not even a little bad…I’m terribly bad at it.”

Jihoon smiled, his eyes crinkling into half moons. “Which is why I am here! Don’t worry though, you still won’t be able to beat me.”

“How thoughtful of you. You don't need to worry about our competition streak too. You'll never be able to beat me in maths.”

“Good thing we've got that cleared up. Nice room by the way.” Jihoon stated, looking around as he stepped into your study room. “Where is your bed, though? Or do you sleep on your chair because I've always got the vibes that you study during your sleep time too.”

“Ha ha ha. Very funny.” You narrowed your eyes at him, pulling him a chair next to your desk. “This is my study room. Obviously I wouldn't have my bed here. That's in my bedroom.”

He looked at you in disbelief. “You have a study room and a bedroom?”

“Well…” You started, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Something felt off with the way he had said it. Like he was actually surprised. “You are not supposed to study in the room you sleep in so… I thought- I thought you knew this.”

His face was unreadable but he shrugged. “Guess not all of us have the privilege of knowing such amazing facts.”

What did that mean?

But you chose to ignore it, signalling him to sit down as you sat on your chair. “Enough chit chat. We didn't come here to bond. I was thinking… two hours maths and then two hours physics?”

“Sounds good to me.” he said, sitting down. “You're going to give me homework, aren't you?”

You looked at him surprised. “How did you know that?”

Jihoon laughed lightly, and for some reason you felt your stomach jump a little. “Oh well remember we had reverse classes for a week in eighth grade? You gave us homework for that class and corrected it and even graded it for us.”

“Oh wow… you remember that?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat up. “To be honest, that was a bit too much for a reverse class-”

“It was.”

You glared at him. “But now since we’re trying to improve our grades I think it would be for the best if we gave each other homework. Would let us know where we stand and how much we improved and just keep in touch with everything.”

“I agree.” he nodded.

“Wow Lee Jihoon agreeing with me? Maybe the sun will rise in the west tomorrow!”

“Very funny. For your information, I never hated your homework. If anything I thought it was cute.”

You looked at him with a horrendous look on your face. Cute? Lee jihoon called some habit of yours cute?

“Please refrain from ruining the actual meanings of words.”

“Fine, you grumpy, friendless woman-”

“Whom are you calling friendless?”

“Oh so you agree you are grumpy?”

“I-” You began, faltering a bit. You were a grumpy person. There was no denying that. But you couldn’t lose in an argument to Jihoon. Nonetheless, he smirked at you at the win, leaning in a bit as he tilted his head at you. “Cat got your tongue, sunshine?”

“No, I just realised there is no point in fighting with you if we want to help each other out.” You lied, quickly turning away to grab some mathematics books. Your face felt like it was on fire and there was no way you were going to let Jihoon see you like this.

“Anyways, I wanted to say that don’t feel stressed teaching me.” Jihoon said. “I might not be as good as you but you are a wonderful teacher.”

“Thanks for transferring the stress over from you to me.” You said dryly, opening the book to the first chapter.

“Yes and if you’re struggling with physics it’s your fault not mine because I’m an even better teacher.”

You gave him a look and he burst out laughing, causing you to shake your head in disbelief.

“No, I’m serious. You are a wonderful teacher.”

“Thank you. Now after two hours I shall let you know if the same can be said about you.”

“It’s a competition. Whoever gets more marks next week in their taught subjects is the winner.” Jihoon’s eyes glinted with mischief and the urge to wipe that smirk off his face grew stronger.

“Deal.” You gritted your teeth, not wanting to back down. “What’s at stake?”

At this Jihoon grinned at you, leaning in until your noses were just inchest apart. Did he always smell this good?

“The loser has to admit that no matter what the fluctuation in our ranks, the winner is the true first rank holder.”

You felt the corner of your lip go up in a smile, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline every time he challenged you to something rush through your veins. “You’re on.”

“What were you thinking?” You asked (or rather demanded) as you roughly pulled apart the curtains to Mingyu’s bed, ready to strangle him for not telling you this.

In response Mingyu groaned and covered his eyes with his arms, the harsh lighting of the nurse’s cabin hitting him now that you had pulled away his curtains.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Do you even know what you are supposed to be sorry for?” You continued, dropping yourself on to the edge of his bed.

At this he removed his arm slightly so that he could just peer at you, before smiling sheepishly. “Uh, for fainting in class?”

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Don’t be sorry, Gyu. But why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? It could have been so much worse!”

“Relax, I was just tired. That’s all.” He said dismissively, as though that was supposed to reduce your worry.

You wondered if he too was hiding something like how you were hiding your anxiety.

No way, right? The Mingyu you knew always shared everything with you. But then, so did you… or supposedly.

“Is that all the nurse said?” You asked, still worried. Just how much was he working himself off?

At this he smiled at you. “You can ask her yourself if you still doubt me.”

You huffed. “I don’t doubt you. I’m just… worried.”

“I’m okay. I’m serious.” Mingyu answered, turning towards his side to face you properly. “I am… a bit tired though, to be honest. The nurse said I could sleep here for the next two - three classes till I have the energy to sit through a class.”

“Okay. Rest up then.” You said, making a mental note to get him some banana milk bottles from the canteen.

“Could you close the curtain?”

“Sure.” You got up to pull the curtains close when your eyes fell on the bed next to his, the curtain slightly open towards the head of the bed. You nearly audbi;y gasped when you recognised the face, especially when you saw the bruises on his cheeks and his split lips. Even though he was asleep, you could see his jaw was clenched, the tension in his face very evident.

Shutting the curtain close, you turned back to Mingyu, sitting back down on the bed and leaning towards him so that you could whisper to him.

“What is Jihoon doing here?” You whispered harshly, eyebrows knotted as you tried to think of a reason how he might have ended up in this situation. He didn’t look like someone who took others' lunch money.

Mingyu blinked at him. “Uh, because he is all battered up?”

“I know that!” You hissed. “I meant. How did he end up like this? Did he get into a fight?”

At this, Mingyu looked surprised. “Wait, don’t you know?”

“Don’t I know what?”

“That Jihoon is a popular target of some of the bullies in 3-A? They keep harassing him almost everyday.”

“What?” You felt your head spin with this new information. Jihoon? Getting bullied? But he didn’t look like the type who would let someone bully him. “But why?”

Now Mingyu was the one looking at you confused. “Do you live under a rock or something? How do you not know this about your competitor?”

“Well, probably because I do not care about the wordy affairs of my competitors. I intend to beat them through studies alone.” You said, a bit annoyed by the way Mingyu was acting. What could be such a golden piece of information that you had to know about him?

“Jihoon is one of the scholarship students. There are only two per year. How do you not know them?”

You looked at him in surprisingly, finally understanding a lot of the things he had said and done over the years. No wonder he couldn’t relate to having a separate study room and a bedroom.

Suddenly you felt like an asshole, shame and guilt creeping up your cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Did you do something to him?” Mingyu asked suspiciously.

You snorted. “I’m not that cruel. I would never stoop so low to insult him.”

“Yeah, I know. Now get out of here. I really need to get some sleep. Any Jihoon related question answer can wait.”

Waving him a goodbye, you walked out of the nurse’s cabin, glancing one last time at Jihoon’s bed.

Maybe his life wasn’t that easy as you had thought it was.

You tossed on your bed once again, sleep being the last thing on your mind. What you learnt today was pulling you down, causing your mind to run around restlessly.

Jihoon was so brave.

You knew how terrible rich kids could be and the fact that he had survived it all these years without letting it affect him so much was… admirable.

Was this why he wanted the tutoring to be done in your house only?

But I wouldn’t have made fun of him…

Then again, both of you were always fighting against each other so he probably couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t use it against him.

Once again you wondered what it was like to be him.

Since he wasn’t from an elite family that probably meant he never had the pressure of losing face. How nice it must be… to do well just for the sake of doing well and not because your entire family’s reputation was hanging by the thread.

One mistake and suddenly no one wanted to do anything with you. Letting out a sigh, you finally sat up, feeling unbearably hot from all the tossing and turning you had been doing. Rubbing your eyes, you reached for your phone and opened the app, searching for Jihoon’s name.

But then you froze, fingers over the keyboard.

What do I say?

How are you?

But that would mean you saw him in that state and something told you that Jihoon wouldn’t want you to know this information. At least not in this way.

How about… how is your maths prep?

Your face lit up, and you quickly typed in the message and hit send.

There. That was a good message. Just a casual text with nothing implied at all other than how his study was going.

Suddenly, another thought crossed your mind.

Maybe I should call him? That way… you could even sneak in a ‘how are you doing? you sound tired. did something happen’ in between the conversation.

But as soon as the call went through, your eyes fell on the clock beside your bed and you let out a welp.

2:00 AM.

What were you thinking?

Quickly you cut the call and threw your phone across the bed, your heart hammering loudly in your chest.

Calling your enemy at 2 in the night suddenly felt like the dumbest thing you had done in your life. You felt your cheeks heat up when you realised Jihoon would probably tease you the next day for calling him up at such an odd hour.

What excuse could you give? You couldn’t even have ‘accidentally’ called him at this time.

Suddenly your phone rang, causing you to nearly jump. Reaching for your phone, you checked the caller id and you felt your heart stutter a little.

Lee Jihoon

For a second, you stared at the caller id, surprised that he had called you back at this time before you remembered to pick the call. “He-hello?”

“Hey.” Jihoon’s voice rumbled on the other side of the line, his voice an octave lower indicating that he was sleeping. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhm, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up-” You began rambling, beginning to regret everything now. Why did you think calling him was a good idea in the first place?

“No, no. It’s fine.” You heard him sigh a little before speaking again. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no? Why would you assume that though?”

There was a pause. “I mean, you called me up at 2 in the night. There must be something bothering you a lot, right?”

“I-” You began, not sure how to tell him exactly what was bothering you when it was him that was bothering you. “I, uh, yeah. I- I couldn’t sleep but I didn’t realise how late it was. I’m so sorry.”

You heard Jihoon chuckle. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have picked it if it was someone else but I figured there must be something wrong if you called me at this time. So tell me sunshine, what's running in that pretty head of yours?”

Your stomach somersaulted at his sudden use of the nickname, but you managed to ignore it. “How- how are you?”

“Uh, you called me to ask how I am?”

A valid question to which you had no answer.

“Yeah, I was wondering- I was wondering if the maths homework I gave was too burdening for you!” You blurted out the first lie that came to your mind.

“How nice of you to be worried about the huge load of work you mounted on me.” He laughed and slight annoyance creeped into you. How was he this joyful after everything he was going through?

“How can you be this carefree with everything that you are going through?” You suddenly snapped, feeling angry at his non cholent behaviour.

He shouldn’t be this non cholent. He didn’t need to be.

Jihoon stopped laughing, his next few words coming out confused. “What do you mean?”

Shit.

“I- I mean,” you began, racking your head for more excuses. “I meant how can you take the homework I gave so lightly!”

“Oh, pardon me then ma’am.” He said, sounding back to his usual self. Yep, he was too good at covering this up. “I shall undertake my homework with the utmost precision and academic rigor.”

“What’s with the language?” You muttered.

“It’s fun pulling your leg.”

“Oh so you admit to torturing me?”

“Come on it’s not torture if you enjoy it too. Don’t you make fun at my expense?”

Immediately guilt racked you. Had you ever made him feel underprivileged compared to you?

“Well,” you said quietly, “I don’t want to anymore.”

Another pause. “Is everything okay?” Jihoon asked softly.

His voice sounded so soothing, like your heart was the sand and his voice was the gentle waves lapping at it.

Wait, what?

No way you just found comfort in Jihoon’s voice.

“Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine. What about you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Everything is fine for me too. So no more thoughts ruining your sleep?”

“No.” You sighed, feeling a bit lighter despite not talking about what you actually wanted to. “I think I can get some sleep now.”

“Good. Can’t have you giving up on our rivalry so soon. If you feel like not fighting with me anymore, just talk to me. I’ll rile you up enough.”

You giggled. “Good to know you’re keeping our relationship alive.”

“Anything to see that grumpy side, sunshine.”

“Good night to you too, Jihoon.”

“Earth to Y/N?” Jihoon snapped his fingers in front of your face, causing you to let out a welp as you suddenly grounded yourself to reality.

“Huh?” You asked, smiling nervously as your eyes flicked to the physics book open in front of the two of you to try and figure out what question he might have asked.

But Jihoon caught your eye moment and that bastard just folded his arms over the book, leaning in until you had no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“Am I that handsome that you got lost staring at it?” He smirked.

“Wh- what? What an audacious thing to say!” You spluttered, cheeks heating up. But your eyes once again flicked to his right cheek, where a Mickey Mouse band aid was put on.

“It’s not audacious if it's true. Tell me,” he smirked at you. “Do I look that good?”

“I was looking at your Mickey Mouse band aid! I didn’t expect you to be those kinds of people.” You lied.

Jihoon shrugged. “My little brother gave it to me. So I thought it might look good with my outfit today.”

How did you get hurt? Who hurt you? Is it too much? How are you bearing it all alone?

There were so many questions you wanted to ask, but you were scared to privy into his matters. It was very clear he wasn’t comfortable with most people knowing it considering how you never knew this but you also didn’t want him to feel like you could weaponize this against him.

“That’s cute.”

“You know what’s cuter?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Oh no. Then leaning in, he said, “You agreeing to everything I was saying because you were distracted by my face.”

You felt your cheeks heat up furiously. “I was not distracted by your face!”

“You know, you have to be more believable than that.”

“Sorry for not being a trained liar.” You spat out, glaring at him.

“You don’t need to be a liar, just convincing enough.” He stated with a smirk.

Oh, like you? Maybe that would wipe that smirk off his face but you didn’t want to play dirty or hurt him.

“You know I know I’ve watched this series…” He suddenly began, looking out of your window. “Where two of the most brilliant students clash because they want the other person to confess first… I feel like we are like them except we are trying to get the other person to admit that they are smarter.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Are you comparing us to… Kaguya-sama?”

Jihoon looked at you surprised. “You watch anime?”

“I, uh,” Truth be told, it was your guilty pleasure. No one knew about this little secret you indulged in other than Mingyu because your parents never liked the idea of reading a bunch of comics instead of ‘real’ books and considered it a waste of time but you had loved reading them ever since you were a teenager. “I- I don’t- I mean, yes. I, uh, read manga and watch anime too.” You mumbled, not sure why you were telling him the truth.

You expected Jihoon to start laughing, call this hobby of your childish or something like that but instead, his face lit up in excitement. “Me too! I love anime so much! What’s your favourite?”

“What?” You looked at him confused. He seemed like the last person on planet earth that you would share a hobby with. “You like- you like anime too?”

“Yeah! Oh, have you watched Oshi No Ko?”

“Can you- can you keep your voice down a bit?” You asked, looking nervously at the door. You couldn’t risk letting the maids hear him. But nonetheless when you turned back to look at him you couldn’t help but smile, the enthusiasm in his eyes infectious.

Jihoon looked so soft and happy right now, a soft halo around his body from the window opposite to him, his eyes almost half moons as he beamed at you. He looked so relaxed right now… like a boy just enjoying his youth.

Not the stressed out, beaten up teenager you had seen the other day. The one fighting to keep his scholarship all these years and pretend like nothing was wrong.

“Sorry, was I too loud?” He asked, still grinning.

It was an odd thing to ask Jihoon to lower his voice because Jihoon was always on the quieter end. Unless the two of you were bickering you had never seen him talk much. “No, but- but, uhm, no one knows I like anime and I would like to keep it a secret.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. Your secret is safe with me, sunshine.” He winked at you and you felt your heart skip a beat.

What was that?

“Thanks.” You muttered, suddenly feeling hot. You turned away from him and took a sip of your water, hoping your cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt. “I, uh, I did watch Oshi No Ko. But I just say the opening music always stole the spotlight for me.”

“Yes, YOASOBI is unparalleled, I’m afraid. Who knew I would find an anime fan in my rival.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s quite unexpected.” You said, smiling at him a little. “I can’t believe we found another topic to talk about other than who’s going to beat who’s ass next test.”

“Hey, I still love those conversations! They are my real motivation.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, biting your lips to prevent a smile from forming.

“Let’s go to the bookstore together, sometime.”

You turned so fast to face him that you nearly heard your neck snap but Jihoon was busy looking out of the window again.

Did he mean as a date?

Your cheeks heated up at the very thought of it, and you quickly dived down to pull out a notebook from your bag.

“Maybe if Mingyu wants, he could come too.”

Oh.

Feeling like an idiot, you sat up straight and gave him a strained smile, your cheeks on fire even more.

“Yeah sure. We could.”

“And the final answer is A.”

“Oh my god!” You whispered happily, practically stomping your feet in excitement as you drew a slash next to the last question. Glancing through your sheet once more to see if you had missed any circled question, you turned to look at Mingyu.

“I got everything right!” You giggled, just as he too looked at your paper in surprise. His smile grew when he saw all the questions were slashed, looking back at you in equal happiness.

“Congratulations! You scored perfectly in all subjects this time, didn’t you?”

“Yes! Oh my god, I can feel the week’s hard work being rewarded.” You said, feeling happiness surge through your veins. It had been so long since you felt this happy over a test in cram school that it almost felt foreign to you. You had been so stressed out all these days that you had almost forgotten how rewarding and relaxing it felt to score this good.

No wonder Jihoon was always in the mood to tease you.

Suddenly remembering him, you searched the classroom for him. Finally, you saw him sitting in the corner seat and you smirked, thinking of how you would tease him now.

But then you caught his expression and you froze.

Jihoon looked… anxious. And distraught. You could see him biting his thumb as he looked at his paper, legs all jittery.

Lee Jihoon anxious?

Guilt hit you like a truck as you continued watching him, wanting to go over and comfort him.

How many things was he hiding behind that golden boy facade? How much was he bearing all alone?

You wondered if there was anyone he could freely talk to, someone to help him get the grief off his shoulders.

Should I go over and talk to him? But he had also told you that he would rather be dead than caught being seen with you.

Then he turned back and his eyes caught yours, and you froze. But Jihoon smiled at you softly, like he wasn’t on the verge of having an anxiety attack a few seconds ago. You forced a smile for him before looking down at your paper, the win leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

Was all this struggle really worth the pain?

Laughter and idle chatter filled the air around you, and you could feel your cheeks getting tired with every passing seconds due to the fake smile you had plastered on your face. Mingyu was on the other side of the table, stuck with some older women who were gushing to him about how amazing their daughters were.

Poor Gyu. You thought, feeling glad that your parents were too busy to try setting you up with future marriage prospects.

Of course, had it been someone else’s party they would have still done it. But since they were the hosts and stuck at the head table, they were too occupied to bother what you were doing.

Picking up the glass of juice you had been drinking since the beginning of the evening you let your eyes idly wander the crowd, taking in the guests. You had been spending the evening with some of your school friends and you hadn’t really had the chance to see who your parents had invited for this party.

You heard someone clink the glass at the table near the podium and you turned towards it, only to find your father standing up with a raised glass, clinking it again to get everyone’s attention.

“Good evening everyone.” Your father began, and you got yourself ready for another of his speeches where he subtly praised himself and put everyone else down. “I hope you all know why we are gathered here today. It’s a great pleasure being able to celebrate such an important milestone in my business with everyone present here.”

You forced another smile for your father as everyone politely clapped. You

looked around him to see who had the ‘honour’ of sitting right next to him when your eyes fell on the mother and son sitting beside your mother.

You felt your blood drain off your cheeks as you watched Jihoon smile at your father, leaning in to say something to his mother.

What was he doing here? Who invited him? And why?

His mother laughed at whatever he had said and patted his back gently, and you felt a twinge of jealousy. Your mother would have never looked at you that way, let alone comfort you.

Jihoon’s anxious face flashed across your mind and you wondered how nice it must have been to have someone supportive at home.

He reminded you of how lonely you were at times.

“But taking this opportunity I would also like to mention another thing.” Your father continued, and you turned your attention back to him. You would talk to Jihoon as soon as this speech was over.

“I would like to talk about my amazing daughter, who scored a perfect score in every subject last week, something that was a first in the cram school.”

You felt your heart lurch for the second time that evening.

Oh no. Oh no. What was he doing?

You could feel everyone’s eyes suddenly on you, and you chuckled nervously as you looked around the crowd, grasping your clammy hands underneath the table. When your eyes landed on Jihoon, you made eye contact with him, expecting to see his anxious face once again.

Because you were always in this position and you knew how it felt.

But instead… he looked happy. He smiled at you brightly and nodded, as though he didn’t mind the fact you had taken his first place.

No way. He has to be faking it. I’ll go talk to him after this and explain that I didn’t mean to gloat in front of him.

Suddenly it became clear to you why your parents had invited Jihoon and his mother over.

To show you off in front of him. To put him back in his place.

“... and I am so proud of her.” Your father finally finished, locking eye contact with you and you smiled back at him. You could feel the bile rising up your throat, the urge to throw up getting stronger.

You felt so sick. So, so sick.

Was this always the reason your parents wanted you to do well? Because you were just a trophy meant to be shown off.

“Please enjoy the rest of the night!” Your father concluded, and the hubbub filled the room again. Immediately you got up and bolted towards Jihoon’s table.

“We need to talk.” You whispered urgently even before Jihoon had turned to acknowledge you. He looked at you a bit surprised, but nodded nonetheless.

“Mom, this is Y/N.” He introduced her and you gave her a polite smile. “Hi, ma’am.”

“Hi darling, Jihoon has told me so much about you!” She exclaimed and you laughed nervously. “All good things, I hope?”

“Ah, you won’t believe what he said-”

“Okay mom! I’ll be right back!” Jihoon cut her off as he grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the table.

“Where to?” He asked, finally letting go of your arm but you grabbed his hand instead. It was warm in contrast to your cold, clammy ones.

“Let’s go to the garden.” You said urgently, pulling him behind you.

“Woah, what’s the hurry?” He asked, but you didn’t respond. “Is it because of what my mom said? She didn’t mean anything, I swear-.”

“I’m sorry.” You cut him off, finally facing him as the two of you had reached the gardens. Jihoon looked at you confused. You sucked in a deep breath. “I’m- I’m sorry for tonight. Look, I know about your financial situation. So I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry that you got dragged into this.”

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean? Why are you sorry?”

“Because- because my parents did this on purpose!” You said, a bit exasperated now. How was he not understanding? “They just want to show off, that’s why they brought you here!”

“Are you… pitying me?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Do you think just because I’m poor, I think my life is horrible and I cannot take some rich bratty girl’s parents’ insults? Do you think I’m such a hopelessly sad case?”

“I didn’t say that!” You snapped. “I just meant that they were trying to put you down!”

“Well, please don’t think I’m this pathetic.” He yelled, equally angry now. “I wouldn’t have come to this stupid party if I didn’t know what I would be expecting. I can handle you rich brats’ privileges very well now. And I certainly don’t need your sympathy.”

“Fine! Go ahead and do whatever the hell you want to!” You yelled, turning away and walking back to the party.

Hot tears pricked your eyes but you rapidly blinked, trying to not let them fall. As soon as you entered the party hall you made your way to the washroom, hoping no one was there.

Finding it empty, you locked yourself up in a stall, finally sinking on to the ground. You let out a sob as the first tear fell, feeling your heart break as you replayed the events that just happened in your head.

Why did you care so much about him? Why did you care if your parents were trying to put him down? Jihoon was your rival after all. You always wanted to defeat him, no matter what.

But right now you just wanted him to be happy. For him to be able to live freely.

You rubbed your eyes as more tears streamed down your face, wishing you had never fought with him in the first place.

Why did you both need to fight all the time? You really liked whatever you had with him. He always took you so seriously and acknowledged your efforts.

You sniffled, a sudden thought occurring in your head.

Oh my god. I like him.

You felt your head spin at the sudden realisation. You liked him. You liked Lee Jihoon. Your rival. The person you absolutely ‘hated’.

And as if that was a cue to your enlightenment, your phone rang. Wiping away your tears once again you looked at the caller id, and you felt your stomach lurch.

Lee Jihoon.

Clearing your throat so that you didn’t sound like you had been crying, you picked up the call.

“Hello?” Jihoon’s voice came from the other side.

“Hey.” You whispered, hoping your voice didn’t sound too hoarse.

“Can we- can we talk? I think there’s something we- I mean, I need to clear up.”

“Okay.” You mumbled. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the garden still. Where are you?”

“Uh, in the washroom.”

He paused. “Oh god, I’m so sorry I messed up big time. I’ll- I’ll explain when you come over.”

“Okay. Give me… some time.” You said, and cut the call. Letting out a breath, you pulled yourself up and exited the stall. You looked at the mirror, your eyes still watery so you splashed some water on your face before exiting the washroom.

Five minutes later, you managed to sneak out of the hall and made your way to the garden where Jihoon was still standing.

“Hey.” You said, once you were right behind him. He whipped around so fast that he almost stumbled back, but managed to catch himself on time.

“Hi.” He said, scratching his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “What are you sorry about?”

“I acted like a complete ass. All you were trying to be was nice and explain that you weren’t a part of this hurtful plan of your parents but I just behaved like an idiot and hurt you instead.”

You opened your eyes to look at him for a while. “You did.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for that.” He said, refusing to make eye contact with you anymore. “I just- I just… you probably know about my bullying incident because you were there in the nurse’s room that day- yeah, you and Mingyu talk loudly- so I just got really defensive when you said you knew about my financial condition and that’s why you wanted to apologise.”

You sighed, folding your arm and looking away too. “I didn’t mean it that way. If I wanted to hurt you or look at you in disgust, I could have done it much before itself.”

“Yeah, and I realised that now. I messed up big time. I’m sorry.” He said, finally looking up at you.

“Jihoon, I admire you. You are one of the bravest people I know.” You said, looking back at him. “I would never, never ever hurt you, no matter how deep our rivalry goes. It must have been hard, having so much on the line while studying. Because I can relate to that. Maybe you don’t have your entire family’s dignity on the line but you do have something dragging you down. And I- and I care for you Jihoon.”

“Yeah. My mother sacrificed so much for me I can’t-” He choked on his words, screwing his eyes shut and balling his fists. “I can’t let her sacrifices go to waste like this.”

You didn’t know what came over you but the next thing you knew, you had thrown your arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace.

“It’s okay.” You whispered into his ear, gently patting his back. “Your mother loves you a lot. No matter what. I could see it in her eyes. She loves you so much Jihoon.”

You heard him sniffle as you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

“Thank you.” He whispered back. “I want you to know that no matter what you do, I’ll always be proud of you too. I’m honoured to have a friend like you and I’ll always be there for you.”

You chuckled at this and pulled back so that the two of you were looking at each other, faces just inches apart.

“Thought you said we weren’t friends?” You asked.

“Did I?” He asked, one corner of his lip turning up. “That’s probably because I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you, sunshine.”

You froze in his arms, eyes widening at this sudden confession.

Jihoon just smiled at you, though his eyes looked pained. “I know you’ll hate me more now but I’ve always liked everything about you. Your determination, your hard work, your smartness, your dedication-”

And before he could complete the list of things he liked about you, you found yourself crashing your lips into his, the force nearly causing the two of you to stumble back. But Jihoon caught himself almost immediately, kissing you back fervently.

You felt your entire body explode as he soft lips seared against yours, the world around you slowly spinning out of control. You were acutely aware of his hand on your back rubbing circles, and you tighten your arms around his neck to pull him in deeper.

Finally, what felt like hours, the two of you broke apart to catch your breaths, gasping for air.

“I cannot believe you thought riling me up was the best way to talk to me.” You muttered, lips brushing against his. Jihoon laughed, quickly pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Let’s admit it, it was a smart move.”

“It was a dumb move. I could have hated you more. Thank god I’m the smarter one.”

“It wasn’t. And I’m the smarter one. Oh, and all yours, sunshine.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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