#‘Every word your teacher spews is a lie. he knows it too’

[ghoulinfuschia]

Nori being the type of mom to pack Uzi’s lunches and leave notes inside, but instead of cute messages she writes to be disconcerting shit she can think of.

[handful0fteeth]

hot for teacher

summary: you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, dirty talk, (slight) rough sex

words: 13.6k

EDIT (09/24/2023): i am not a “no beta we die like men” person, but this?? she was not up to my standards. so i fixed her! enjoy ya horny bastards

"You know I heard Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"

This announcement from your best friend is enough to make you choke on the mouthful of sandwich you're chewing on and spew chunks of it all over the table.

You drop your food noisily back onto its plate and reach for your drink, struggling to breathe while there's still turkey and lettuce lodged in your esophagus. The diner's patrons ogle you as you attempt to collect yourself, some concerned, some plain annoyed.

"Christ, dude!" Kelsey laughs, leaning over the table and thumping you hard on your back. You wave her hand off and guide your straw into your mouth, desperately gulping down Coke with one hand pressed to your chest as if that’ll ensure the food doesn't take a wrong turn on the way down.

"You have to - fuck, dude - you have to give a girl some warning before you just say shit like that, Kels," you sputter. You wipe a hand across your damp eyes and take a couple of steadying breaths, and finally, the reality of what Kelsey just said hits you. You look up and blink away the tears to get a clear look at her.

"Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?" you ask quietly, not wanting to attract any more attention. Kelsey nods, a smug grin plastered across her face. "Apparently, it's like a dog trying to drink water," she giggles. "Katie Kaspbrak went out with him last week, and she's been telling everyone how God-awful he is at head."

"Katie Kaspbrak? The same girl who swore half of the staff at school was in love with her?" You lean back against the cool vinyl of the booth and cough lightly, suddenly less interested in this gossip now that you've learned the source. 

Katie Kaspbrak would lie about what she had for breakfast if she thought it would make her seem more interesting. Actually, now that you think about it, she has done that.

"That's what I thought too," Kelsey continues, "until Belinda Carter and Donna Greene overheard her, and they said the same thing. Belinda said she was so shocked that she just faked it until he thought she came and then made an excuse to leave."

You pause. Katie Kaspbrak is one thing, but two other girls? That can’t all be a coincidence.

But… it's Steve Harrington. Every girl - and some of the boys - you've ever spoken to have the hots for him, whether they want to admit it or not, and how could he be so sought after if he gives such a piss-poor performance at something so fundamental? You pick at an errant lettuce leaf that juts out from the edge of your disheveled sandwich, pretending to find it fascinating so you don't have to look at Kelsey's elated expression anymore.

"Why are you waiting until now to tell me this?" you ask. Kelsey leans back in her seat and pops a french fry in her mouth, glancing at the dusty clock that hangs in the diner's lobby.

"Just wanted to give you something to look forward to before your date, Y/N," she says with barely contained glee. "I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow." You shoot her a dirty look.

"Who says we're even gonna go that far tonight?" you counter, but you both know you're full of shit. You look down and pick at the skin around your fingernails to avoid Kelsey's knowing gaze because if you meet it, she'll see the uncertainty written all over your face. 

She loves messing with you like this; she's done it for almost every date you've ever gone on, regardless of who it's with. You pick up your sandwich and take a too-big bite to avoid having to talk anymore.

"Yeah, right. You've wanted to bang Steve since the moment you saw him, but you'll magically dry up the second you get the chance. Sounds legit."

 You stick out your tongue, letting Kelsey get a nice view of the smushed-up chunks of meat and bread hanging off it, but it doesn’t deter her snickering.

Her smug declaration is all you can think of for the rest of the day. It's so distracting that, while getting ready, you accidentally kiss the burning hot barrel of your curling iron to your temple and put your shoes on the wrong feet twice.

Who says that you have to go down that path tonight, anyway? Who says Steve is even the kind of dude to want to fuck on the first date?

Well...everyone who attended Hawkins High says, actually. Son of a bitch.

Perhaps you could just go down on him and insist he doesn't have to return the favor; it's not like most of the guys you've been with haven't leaped at the opportunity to skip the preamble and shove their dick in something anyway. The only problem with that is…you really wanna fuck Steve Harrington.

Really, really badly.

And you want it to be as good as it possibly can be. You've wanted this for years, and now that you've both graduated, who knows how long Steve plans to stick around in Hawkins so you can have your chance?

The time Steve promised he'd pick you up rolls around quicker than you'd anticipated. In the mirror, you smooth down your skirt one final time and fluff up your curls.

Kelsey doesn't know what she's talking about, you decide. Who were you to listen to gossip spread around by Katie Kaspbrak anyway? You practice smiling brightly in the mirror and notice a smear of lipstick across your front teeth. You lick at the stain and then rub it away with your index finger. It would be fine. 

Everything would be fine…right?

A car horn beeps twice before you can successfully reassure yourself.

He's here.

Oh, God.

You fly down the stairs two at a time, briefly worrying about how humiliating it would be to crack your head open before your date and snatch your purse off the kitchen table as you say goodbye to your mother. She reminds you of your curfew, and you give a vague acknowledgment as you pull the front door shut behind you.

In the faint evening light, Steve's maroon BMW is almost black, glimmering in the sour yellow streetlight like the shell of a beetle. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you croak a "Hi!" around it. Steve Harrington climbs out of his car gracefully, and his easy smile, accompanied by the bouquet of flowers he has clutched in his hand, is enough to make your knees wobble a bit.

"You look really pretty," he says, eyes flickering up and down your body. You're grateful for the dim outdoor lighting as your face flushes scarlet. "Thanks. Are those for me?" you ask, pointing at the bouquet. You wanna kick yourself as soon as you finish saying it. Of course, they're for you, you absolute buffoon. You’re on a date - who else would he be carrying flowers for?

Steve chuckles chuckles under his breath and extends them toward you. "You said these were your favorite, right? I saw 'em while I was getting stuff for tonight, so…Yeah." You gingerly take the flowers from him and bury your nose in the petals, inhaling their fresh scent as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides, though his expression remains as casual as ever.

Is he…nervous?

He reaches in front of you as you walk up to the passenger side of the car and opens the door, bowing his head and gesturing for you to come inside exaggeratedly. You giggle and sink into the leather seats as he scurries around the car's hood. As he swings the door shut behind him and settles in behind the wheel, you silently draw a few steadying breaths.

The inside of his car smells distinctly of cologne and floral soap, so much so that you have to briefly wonder if he got his car detailed in anticipation of your date. His cologne is woody and sweet, not so strong that it stings behind your eyes, but you know the scent will stick to your clothes whether he lays a hand on you tonight or not. The thought makes your stomach flutter a little. As he revs the engine, you absently twirl the stem of a flower around your finger. 

"By the way," he says as he pulls out of your driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. "If you hear something clunking around back there while we drive, that's just Lucille."

You cock an eyebrow. "Lucille?"

You swear you see the ghost of a knowing smile creep across his lips, but an evening shadow cuts across his face before you're entirely sure. "Just a safety measure, that's all."

~~~

The date is more perfect than you could have ever imagined it to be. Steve takes you to a restaurant near the video store where he works, a little Italian place that's surprisingly upscale - at least, upscale for Hawkins. Your fingers don't get the opportunity to graze a door handle or the back of a chair the entire time, as he's always right behind you, reaching around your body to beat you to it.

His gaze never leaves your face when you talk, and he's so clearly hanging on every word you lose your train of thought a few times. It's jarring to have the guy you've been obsessed with for so long give you his undivided attention - in a good way, of course, but that doesn't stop the words from getting caught in your throat. 

He’s so pretty it's hard to maintain a coherent thought; all you want to do is stare at him and memorize the details of his face. The way his hair gently curves over his forehead, and he pushes a hand through the soft fringe to get it out of his eyes; the way his eyes sparkle in the warm, low light of the restaurant, transfixed on you like you're the single most intriguing thing he's ever laid them on.

You're not even halfway through offering to pay for half of the meal when he informs you he slipped his card to the host before you were even sat, and it's already taken care of. You insist he at least let you cover dessert - a small square of tiramisu you both nibble at - but he waves you off.

"You can pay for the next date," he says coolly, smiling behind a sip of his drink. You pull the cloth napkin from your lap and pretend to dab food from your mouth so you can hide your giddy smile and blushing cheeks. Next date, huh?

After dinner, he drives you to the outskirts of Hawkins, parking in a clearing in the forest that overlooks the blinking lights of the small city below. You have a perfect view of the moon as it gleams in the sky, full and white, and the stars glitter against the black velvet of the night without all the light pollution.

You sit on the hood of his car, legs crossed under you, picking at a loose thread on the hem of your skirt as it pools in your lap. You tug a too-big jacket tighter around your shoulders, a gift plucked from his trunk once he saw you shiver from the autumnal air against your skin. 

Steve is leaning back on his palms, head dropped between his shoulders as he stares at the sky. Goosebumps ripple across his skin, and every so often, his body twitches forward with a slight shiver, but he seems content enough in his short-sleeved shirt.

He catches you staring and chuckles when you avert your eyes and pretend to be fascinated by the paint on his car.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asks.

"A cute guy," you respond, your voice smaller than you intended. You clear your throat.

"That's so funny; I was just looking at a cute girl!" he exclaims, and you laugh. "Crazy how that works, huh?"

"Aren't you freezing?" you ask. Steve shrugs.

"I'm alright. It's refreshing. Keeps me awake," he murmurs.

A few minutes of silence pass comfortably. You listen to the sounds of the forest around you, only slightly concerned when you hear a twig snap in the distance or something rustle in the foliage beyond the car. But Steve's lack of interest in either puts you at ease. After a while, he points at a random spot in the sky and announces, "Found it!"

"Found what?"

"My friend Dustin - total nerd, by the way - was talking my ear off yesterday about constellations, like, how to find them and shit, and I found one!" He gestures for you to scoot closer without taking his eyes off his discovery, apparently not wanting to lose his spot. You do so, body hovering close enough to his that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin, and his cologne wafts pleasantly back up into your nose. You follow the direction his finger is pointing in, scanning the inky blackness of the sky.

"Do you see it?" he asks excitedly.

"Did your nerdy friend happen to tell you what this constellation was called?"

"Uh. Ursula…something…I think. He said it was "the littler one" of the two."

"Ursa minor?" you posit. Steve snaps his fingers and points at you affirmatively.

"There you go! Do you see it?"

You shake your head. The name is familiar, but you don't remember what it's supposed to look like. You mostly slept through your astronomy class in high school. 

Suddenly, an arm drapes itself around your shoulders and pulls you in, and warm fingers caress the sides of your jaw, tilting your face further upwards. Apparently, Steve has decided that the best way to help you see what he sees is by manually guiding you in the proper direction, so he's pressed your bodies together and is trying to angle your head in just the right spot.

Your stomach flips, and your heart jumps into your throat. This time, you're worried you'll choke on it. You're sure Steve can feel the blush in your cheeks burning beneath his fingertips, but he's either too engrossed in Ursa Minor to care or is choosing not to mention it.

"Right…there. See?" Steve says, voice notably lower than before and now right against the shell of your ear. A shiver walks its fingers down your spine.

“O-Oh, yeah,” you stammer. You do see it, a tail of shimmering dots curling into a small rectangle of stars, but you're more focused on Steve's mouth right out of the corner of your eye, his lips parted and quirked up into a smile. His hair brushes against your cheek as he turns his head toward you, and his index finger presses itself against the curve of your jaw to encourage you to look at him.

His eyes shine in the moonlight, dark and kind, as they flit over the details of your face, lingering the longest on your lips. He's warm and solid against you, and you tentatively place your fidgety hand on his knee.

He's so beautiful, you think to yourself. It isn't a word you've ever used for the other men you've dated, but it fits Steve well. A square jaw still soft at the edges with youth, wide brown eyes framed by lashes so thick and long that they fan across his cheekbones when he blinks, full pink lips barely parted and pursed like he has something to say. Beautiful.

Steve’s finger slides down the edge of your face until it reaches your chin, pinching it between bent thumb and forefinger. He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath wash over your lips.

You, on the other hand, forget how to breathe entirely.

He hesitates, and you feel a tug in your stomach as the thought of him pulling away from you occurs. Does your breath offend? You did eat a lot of garlic bread at the restaurant. Maybe you should've packed gum in your purse -

"Is this okay?" he murmurs. You blink, a little caught off guard by the question.

“Huh?” Very astute.

“This,” he says, and his thumb presses itself briefly in the center of your bottom lip as if to punctuate what he means. “I mean…can I kiss you?”

You swallow hard to avoid swooning at the question and clear your throat. "Yes. Yes, please kiss me."

He barely even has to move to capture your lips, so softly at first, like he’s afraid you’ll suddenly change your mind if he applies more pressure. Electricity thrums beneath your skin, zapping every nerve you have until your entire body is lit up with excitement. Your free hand trembles as you rest it against his chest. His heart thumps wildly beneath your palm, indicating that Steve Harrington is just as nervous as you are right now. This helps you to relax a bit, strangely.

Steve's arm slides down from your shoulders to wrap around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. He smiles against your mouth as a contented sigh escapes you and pulls away just enough to mumble, "Still okay?"

You bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your fingers and bring your lips back together, kissing him with more fervor. He hums against your mouth, satisfied with his answer, and his smile grows almost imperceptibly.

When he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you gasp, and his hand slips up to the nape of your neck and buries itself in your hair. He doesn't pull, just holds you firmly in place, and though the act is relatively small, its possessive nature makes you unconsciously sink into his touch. Your mind races with thoughts of what it would feel like if Steve did pull, just a little - how your neck would bend forward, how your eyes would be forced skyward, and how you'd have no choice but to arch toward him as he kept you where he wanted you.

He keeps you still as he pulls away, chuckling at the little mewl that falls out of your mouth at the lack of contact. He soothes you with kisses peppered down the expanse of your neck, pausing only to nip and lick at random spots of flesh. You moan breathily into his hair as he sucks on a patch of skin just above the neckline of your shirt, and your hand creeps even further up his thigh.

"If you give me a hickey…my mom will kill me," you breathe, and Steve snickers against your neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks. The thought is enough to make your stomach sink with dread. You shake your head ardently. He grazes his teeth against your throat, his satisfied grin tangible against your buzzing skin.

"I didn’t think so."

He makes his way back up to your lips after sucking another hickey into your flesh, this time thankfully below where your clothing can cover, and doesn't waste a second slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You swear you'll turn to liquid any second now and slip straight through Steve's fingers. Steve tastes faintly of tiramisu still, and you eagerly chase after the taste, your tongues sliding against each other. The hand in your hair glides down your spine and pauses above your ass. His fingers twitch hesitantly against the hem of his jacket, hiking it up only to smooth it back down several times. He waits for you to move to give him some indication that you want to go further.

So, you oblige him.

You pull away, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips. It's Steve's turn to whine at the empty space where your mouth used to be, and it's a sound that resonates right into the fingers still curled against his chest. It makes a feral heat stir in your belly, and you make a brief mental note to find what else elicits that noise from Steve Harrington's lips later.

You decide if there was any moment in your life to be bold - it's right now. You use the hand on his chest to nudge him up the hood of the car so his back is flush with the windshield, and before he can question what you're doing, you swing one leg over his lap and sit, straddling him.

He takes a surprised breath and smiles at you, the moonlight making his eyes shimmer like liquid bronze. You kiss him again, and he boldly reaches down and grabs two generous handfuls of your ass. With a groan, you roll your hips back into him, urging him to grab more, grab harder. 

Your hands grip either side of his slim waist and dip below the edge of his shirt. His skin is so warm compared to the chill of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to do anything to obtain more of his heat.

"Do you…wanna head inside the car?" he asks breathlessly, kissing the corners of your lips and down your jaw. "It's a lot more comfortable."

"I'm pretty comfortable right here," you say, and Steve laughs. He sits up straight and slots his hands under your knees, pulling you forward and down so you sit directly on his crotch. Despite the multiple layers of clothing between you both, you definitely feel something hard nudging at your inner thigh, and you let out a noise that's half surprise, half arousal.

"He's getting a bit restless if you catch my drift," Steve drawls, capturing your chin between his thumb and forefinger again. Your eyes flicker downward as if you’d be able to see with your legs and his jeans in the way. God, you want to see it, though, need to see it.

"'Course, if you're uncomfortable, we don't have to,” he says quietly, earnestly. “It’s up to you, Y/N.”

Your answer is to grind down on his dick hard enough that he pushes air out through his gritted teeth and grips your ass tighter. "Like I said," you purr against the shell of his ear, "I'm plenty comfortable."

Though Steve helps you back onto solid ground gingerly, there's a tautness to his muscles, a stiffness in how he moves that belies how desperate he is to get you into the car. He tries to adjust the front of his jeans casually, and you pretend to be staring into the treeline when he glances in your direction. You cock your head a bit in confusion when you notice him pull something long and thin out from below the backseat. It appears wooden, and the flared nub at the bottom is familiar enough that you realize it's probably a baseball bat. However, the top of the bat is oddly lumpy and seems to be covered in something spiky; you can't tell for sure what that could be because it's wrapped tightly in a tattered blue towel.  

He pops the trunk and throws it inside, acknowledging your puzzled expression after slamming it shut with a calm smile. "Lucille," he says simply. You decide you'll ask about it later. If you remember.

What you do remember, as soon as your back is nestled against the interior car door and Steve slots himself between your thighs, fingertips pushing the fabric of your skirt further up around your hips, is the conversation you had with Kesley.

"You know Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"

You try to push the thought from your head by carding your fingers through Steve's hair, marveling at how soft it is while he plants kisses along your inner thighs. His lips brush across the intersection of your hip and thigh so gently that it makes you squirm a bit. Steve, despite your efforts, takes notice.

"Ticklish?"

"Uh. No?"

It's a lie. A bad one.

Steve smirks up at you and pushes your skirt past your pelvis, over your panties. Before you can stop him, his mouth is latched down over the sensitive juncture of your thigh, and you squeal in protest. Your breathless laughter and pleas for him to stop go unheeded, and he pins your writhing hips to the leather of the backseat so he can continue sucking a bright red hickey into your skin. Seemingly satisfied, he pulls off with a pop and strokes a finger over his handiwork. You bump his head with your knee, a halfhearted attempt to get him to stop prodding.

"Cute panties," he says lowly, and his finger follows the thick tendon that runs from your inner thigh to the edge of the cotton fabric. He drags the tip of it just underneath the seam of the gusset, pulling it far enough from your skin that it snaps back and makes you flinch. You remember agonizing over which pair to wear while you dressed - everything was too itchy, tight, plain, or extravagant for a first date. You only settled on the blush pink pair currently hugging your hips because they were the least offensive thing you could find.

You swallow hard, your hands fidgeting from their place atop your chest, and reflexively try to shut your legs. You're suddenly painfully aware of Steve staring at you, your most intimate part. A thin scrap of cloth is the only thing that separates your pussy from Steve Harrington's eyes, and while it's not like no one has ever seen you in states very similar to this, this time is…different. 

The butterflies in your stomach are hammering against your ribcage and fluttering into your lungs, threatening to cut off your air supply entirely. You're sure you're going to suffocate before he can make any further moves, and you're gonna pass out right in the back of Steve Harrington's car before he's even really done anything -

“Y/N?”

Steve's warm hand squeezing your hip pulls you from your thoughts. You pull the pooled fabric of your skirt up against your stomach so you can look at his face. His expression is hued with concern.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?" His thumb rubs in small, soft circles above the purpling hickey on your thigh.

"Yeah! I'm totally fine, I just…sorry, I kinda got lost in thought."

"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to, yanno, if you're feelin'...like, weird about any of this."

You shake your head and smile, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. "I'm absolutely fine, Steve. I promise you. Did you say something before? I didn't hear you."

"I, uh…" He curls the tip of his finger beneath the gusset of your panties again, this time tugging experimentally. "Just wanted to know if I could take these off."

Your face is scorchingly hot, and if it weren't for the shadows cascading over the both of you, you’re sure Steve would laugh his ass off at the shade of red your cheeks have achieved. Any verbal response you might muster is lodged impossibly tight in your throat, so you just nod, let your legs fall further apart, and lift your hips off the seat so he can work your panties down your legs.

He does so with something akin to reverence, inching the fabric further and further off your body until his warm breath unfurls over your bare skin in deep, measured breaths. He carelessly tosses your panties somewhere in the front of his car, eyes transfixed on the spot between your legs. You're torn between wanting to yank your shirt collar over your eyes so you don't have to look at the deferent expression on his face, the damn near worshipful look in his dark eyes, and wanting to sit up to get an even better look at him.

"Wow… you're…fuck." Steve Harrington is at a loss for words because of you. You keep the glow of pride you feel at that fact to yourself…for now. You pull your legs back toward your chest, hooking one hand under your knee ditch to hold it steady and give him a better look. 

"Are you, uh…can I, like, eat you out?" he asks, and though part of you inwardly leaps for joy at the request, another part wants to suggest he do literally anything else.

You're being stupid, you chide yourself. Who gives a shit what Katie Kaspbrak or her stupid friends say? They're probably full of it anyway. Why are you entertaining the idea of telling Steve fucking Harrington he can't eat you out?

"Yes, please," you hear yourself breathe out despite your internal reservations. Steve smiles and raises a hand to replace the one keeping your leg pulled back. You take note of the way he licks his lips before he brings his mouth down against your pussy.

It's…well…it's interesting.

His tongue bypasses your clit completely and instead presses against your urethra, of all places. It isn't flat or relaxed; instead, a stiff pinpoint of muscle grinding uncomfortably into a spot that is decidedly not meant for that kind of stimuli. You shift, uneasy, but he seems to interpret it as a pleasured movement, which only spurs him on. He digs the tip of his tongue harder into your flesh, and you're grateful he can't see how your face is screwed up in distress.

Oh, God…oh, God. It really is awful. It's almost excruciating, and Katie Kaspbrak was fucking right. What do you do? What will he say if you tell him it's not good? Will he get embarrassed or hurt or even angry? Has anyone ever tried to tell him that this was wrong before?

You're conflicted and debating on just letting him finish up and possibly lying for the rest of time that Steve Harrington is a champion at eating pussy, until his tongue flicks upward and the unrelenting nub of his tongue stabs into your clit. You yelp involuntarily and yank your leg out of his hand, tightening your thighs. You press your fingers against your slit, hoping to soothe the throbbing ache Steve's harsh ministrations have brought on.

"What, what happened?" he asks, frantic, sitting up as much as he can in the confined space of the backseat.

He looks so much like a kicked puppy it's physically painful, maybe more painful than the burning sensation in your clit, and you consider for a moment just brushing it off as a leg cramp and letting him continue as if it's the best head in the world.

But you can't. You won't. If Steve doesn't know what he's doing wrong, he can't fix it, right? You just hope he's genuinely ignorant of how unrefined his skills are and not just overconfident and uncaring. The apologetic expression he's wearing is encouraging that it's the former.

"I…that hurt," you hiss between your teeth. "That hurt a lot."

"I'm so sorry," he says, reaching towards you instinctively, but then he seems to reconsider and takes his hands back. They rest atop his knees, clenching and unclenching, just like when he picked you up. "I…I thought that's what girls liked. I haven't…no one's told me any different, and I don't, like, have a bunch of practice - I mean, I've had practice, but no one's ever said anything before. I had no idea I was hurting you. I don't…I don't have to do that if you don't want it. I can do something else. I mean, Nance never really liked it when I did that either, so-"

He stops, eyes widening once it dawns on him what just came out of his mouth. Admittedly, you're a little shocked yourself. You attempt to keep your expression neutral to not make him feel worse, but you clearly fail because Steve cringes away when he catches a glimpse of your face.

"Shit…sorry. I shouldn't… it's not cool to bring up your ex on a first date. I know that. I'm sorry…Look, if you wanna go home, I get it. I kinda messed shit up, so I can-"

He's so fixated on his contrite ramblings that he doesn't notice when you sit up, nor when your hands cup either side of his face, and he only stops talking once you've pressed your lips against his, making it physically impossible. You feel the tension melt out of his body, and he tentatively grips your elbows.

"I'm fine," you start, leaning your forehead against his. His breaths escape in panicked, warm bursts against your lips. "I don't need to go home. I'm absolutely perfect here, with you. You didn't stab me with a burning hot poker or anything, so I'm doing pretty alright." The corners of his lips twitch upward in a sad suggestion of a smile. You should know better; you shouldn't ask about Nancy Wheeler even if Steve accidentally brought her up first, but you can't help the question that ripples from your lips.

"What do you mean, 'Nance never liked it?'" you ask carefully, and his muscles flex beneath your fingers. You're treading on thin ice. You rub your thumbs over his cheekbones, attempting to put him at ease and have his eyes meet yours.

"It's… it's stupid," Steve mutters, eyes downcast at his lap. "She…Nancy really, super hated it when I went down on her. I never thought about it too hard, I guess. I chalked it up to her being kinda uptight and just moved on, but now it makes way more sense. I suck. Of course, she hated it." He offers a dry, humorless sound you suppose is his attempt at a laugh.

"Did she ever, like…tell you what you were doing wrong?" you ask softly.

"Yeah…well, no, not exactly. I don't know. She'd usually just sit up and tell me she wanted to do something else, and when I asked what was up, she would just dance around the question, and we'd do something else and…I stopped trying after that. I should've asked questions."

"Well, you can ask them now. If you'd like."

Steve finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and his eyes are markedly brighter than before. "If it's not too astoundingly lame…yeah, that'd be great. What exactly hurt about it? Was I too rough?"

"Partially that, and partially how rigid your tongue was," you giggle. "It feels much better if you loosen up. Think more like licking a lollipop than Vlad the Impaler."

Steve laughs sincerely at that one, and his head tilts forward to rest on your shoulder. "Vlad the Impaler, huh? That's pretty bad."

"It is, but it's nothing you can't improve on. I'll even let you practice if you want." Steve sits straight, his once crestfallen expression replaced with wide, hopeful eyes and a hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hm. I'll guide you through it, like, uh...like a pussy-eating professor."

 Steve snorts and kisses you briefly. His hands move to your hips in twitchy anticipation, unsure whether or not he should settle on your bare flesh or the hem of your skirt. It's almost like he suddenly doesn't know where to start. You decide for him; you lay your hands over his and guide them toward your body, bringing them up beneath your skirt and settling them on the bare skin of your hips.

"Give me a reason to tangle my fingers in that famous hair, pretty boy."

Without warning, you're pulled forward hard enough to fall unceremoniously onto your back, nearly thumping your head against the door handle. Steve almost concusses you in his excitement, but you can't bring yourself to care once you feel his breath washing over your exposed slit in warm, quick puffs. You sigh contentedly and thread your fingers through the hair at his temples.

"Loosen up, right?" he hums, and you make an affirmative noise high in your throat when you remember he can't see you nod.

"Start at the bottom," you say quickly, "and work your way up. Don't go straight for the clit, just-"

The sensation of Steve's hot, wet tongue licking a flat stripe up your cunt, slowly and carefully, makes your brain short-circuit. The instructions fizzle and die on your tongue, and you forget why you were speaking for a moment.

"Like that?"

"Huh? Yeah…yeah, like that. You don't have to just lick, either. You can like, um…suck on certain areas, like the lips and the - fucking shit -"

Steve is, apparently, a fast and very ambitious learner - before you can finish a complete sentence, he's applying your advice fucking beautifully. He licks another long, languid stripe up your pussy and sucks gently on your labia, tugging lightly with closed lips. Shifting his face upward, his nose grazes your clit, eliciting an unexpected moan. One hand flies above your head, fumbling for the handle on the car's roof for purchase, and you keep the other firmly planted in his hair.

"Still good?" His voice has an edge, much cockier now than it was just a few moments ago. He's so entertained by your reactions, and you don't know if it makes you mad, turns you on, or both. You decide that's not important because his mouth isn't on you anymore, and you can't stand for that.

"Fucking fantastic."

"Any more lessons to teach me?" he asks smugly. His hands are splayed across your inner thighs, spreading you open just slightly, and his thumbs are massaging your outer lips as he talks. His tone ignites something defiant within you. You push yourself up on your elbows and stare down at him evenly, meeting his eyes. His rediscovered confidence is undoubtedly hot, so hot you can feel your arousal starting to leak onto the upholstery beneath your ass, but it's in your nature to want to challenge him a little bit.

"Here's one," you rasp. You fist a hand into Steve's hair, gripping it tightly by the roots, and shove his face deeper into your cunt. You toss both legs over his shoulders and lock them at the ankles.

"Give that mouth something useful to do other than fuckin' talk."

You swear to everything holy, you hear Steve Harrington growl.

He dives into your pussy with renewed fervor, fingers still keeping you opened up for him, and laps at the rivulet of slick drooling out of your hole. Once the taste hits his tongue, he moans into you and pushes his face so deep you can feel the light stubble on his cheeks grazing your sensitive folds. 

Your back arches, lifting you almost entirely off the seats, and you bite your lip to stifle the noises threatening to burst from your throat. It's not to spare whatever stranger may or may not be lurking in the bordering forest but because your moans sound downright embarrassing. His tongue burns a wet trail from your weeping hole to your clit, where it laps experimentally at the swollen bud.

You twist and shudder beneath him, your body operating without input from your brain, but the feeling of Steve's hands slamming your hips down into the seats snaps you back to attention. You lift your head from its position against the car door, struggling to focus your eyes. Steve has laid himself as flat as he can across what little space remains in the backseat. His arms coil tight around your thighs, which keep both legs hanging limply over his shoulders. He stares up at you through his thick lashes, eyes gleaming hungrily, while he licks and sucks your pussy like it's the last meal he'll ever eat. His ordinarily perfect hair is trashed, sticking to his damp forehead in dark clumps.

You gnaw on your bottom lip stubbornly, clinging to what little rebellion still smolders inside you. Steve laughs; the vibrations feel like heaven against you, and you fling your head back down.

It isn't until his mouth has formed a near-vacuum seal around your clit that you unabashedly squeal into the humid air, unable to contain yourself anymore, pleasure wracking your body in unrelenting waves. Steve doesn't let up, swirling his tongue while he sucks, somehow keeping you glued to the seats without much apparent effort. You knew he was strong; he was an athlete the entire time you were in high school, but you didn't imagine his slender frame belied this much strength. The ease with which he's made you almost immobile is unexpected and very, very sexy.

"S-Steve, Steve - fuck - okay, God, you're getting me close already," you wheeze, voice straining high and desperate in your throat. You don't usually get close this fast unless you're alone and rubbing out a quick orgasm before bed or out of boredom. Still, the combination of his greedy suckling and licking, the sheer amount of enthusiasm he's displaying toward pleasuring you, and the fact that this long-held fantasy is coming to life right before you are making you hurtle toward the edge.

You inhale sharply, your body tenses, you're so, so close, you're about to cum -

Steve pulls off you, his lips making a wet, obscene pop before they curl into a fiendish grin. You whine, and he chuckles at you, rubbing your thigh apologetically. "You taste so fucking good," he says breathlessly.

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper. "And…thank you?"

"I'm having too much fun and didn't want you to cum yet," he says simply. "Plus, I wanted to ask something."

"Go for it."

You can't see them, but you can feel Steve's fingers on your pussy; his thumb makes a few small, tight circles around your clit before two more digits glide down the length of your folds and stop right at the entrance of your hole. They nudge around the rim as he speaks.

"Do you like getting fingered at the same time?" he asks, hopeful. "I know I'm at least good at that."

"Yes, please, do that," you beg, hardly letting him finish the sentence. You pause as the last part of Steve's sentence registers in your lust-addled brain. I know I'm at least good at that.

The corners of your mouth tug downward into a frown. Just as Steve ducks his head down again, you cup the sides of his jaw in both hands. He looks up at you, and the way his eyes flash nervously in the darkness doesn't escape you.

"By the way," you murmur, rubbing your thumbs into the stubbly flesh of his cheeks. "You've proven to be very…very good at…yanno, all this. Not just fingering."

"Yeah?" The hope in his voice is so genuine and sweet you could cry.

"Yeah. You just needed a little guidance, that's all."

He turns his head and kisses your palm, tracing circles into the back of your hand with his own before pulling it away and lacing your fingers together. Your interlocked hands rest next to your bare hip, and he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh. "Want me to get back to the, uh…fun part?"

You giggle. "I'm having a ton of fun, personally, but if you mean the eating my pussy part…yes, please."

"Gotcha."

Steve wastes no time reclaiming your swollen clit in his mouth, but he's decidedly gentler as he trails his two middle fingers around the rim of your hole. You can't tell if he's teasing you or testing the waters as he dips the tips inside you a few times, never edging past the first knuckles before pulling them back out again.

If he keeps this up, you’re going to go batshit insane. You're milliseconds away from telling him so before he swipes his fingers through the slick puddling beneath your pussy, and plunges them inside you up to the last knuckle.

"Oh my fucking God," you moan, writhing as much as possible while trapped between Steve's body and the car. His fingers curl, brushing against a spot that makes sparks fly behind your closed eyes, and he rubs against it purposefully once your voice pitches up and your breathing quickens even more. Both hands tangle in his disheveled hair, and you're torn on whether to push him away with how overwhelming the pleasure is becoming or pull him closer so he never stops. You settle on knotting your fingers at the roots and holding on for dear life.

Steve's fingers make lewd wet sounds as they pump in and out of your hole, and his free hand rests on the soft mound of skin above your clit. He pulls back just slightly, a stringy line of saliva connecting his tongue to your body, and his index finger stretches your skin up enough that the hood of your clit shifts backward. He chuckles.

"You should see how much of a mess your pussy is," he says. His tongue darts out to lick the slick shining on his lips. "It's so cute."

"Cute?" You don't know if that would've been the word you'd have picked to describe yourself right now, nor had anyone ever done so before. Despite the flush rising high on your cheekbones, you pretend to be more offended by it than you really are.

"Adorable," Steve coos, a smug smile sprawling across his handsome face. "And the noises you're making are even cuter. Have you been saving those just for me?"

You're speechless. You can't deny it, but you sure as hell aren't going to confirm it for him, either. His head will get so big you worry it'll fill the car's cab until you're both suffocated by the sheer mass of it. You sit up as much as you can against the car door, tugging the hand still woven with yours and smiling audaciously at him. You cross pinched fingers in front of your lips in a zipping motion, twisting them at the corner and flicking your wrist over your shoulder. My lips are sealed.

Steve scoffs. "Oh? We'll see how long that lasts, pretty girl."

Steve thrusts his fingers deep inside you again, fluttering them against your g-spot, then spits on your exposed clit. He dips his head and licks up the saliva trickling down your slit in one slow, hot strip, eyes never leaving your face.

You press your lips together tight, screwing your eyes shut and exhaling hard through your nose. Your legs are trembling, you're gripping his hand so tightly you're surprised he isn't complaining of bruised bones yet, and your chest is heaving with the effort of staying silent, but you're winning.

Or, at least, you think you're winning.

That is until he stuffs his fingers so deep inside you that it causes his hand to curl upward, almost cupping your cunt in his palm and grinding the heel of his hand into your tender clit. You can't help but gasp as he outright abuses your g-spot, rubbing circles against it with such pressure that even if you wanted to make noise, you can’t - the pleasure radiating from your core has snatched your voice away. You can't even draw in a satisfying breath and only manage a few sparse, shallow gasps.

"You done acting like you're not gonna give me what I want?" Steve asks, voice dripping with sweet condescension. You sob. It takes a stammering, whimpering, tear-filled moment before you gather enough oxygen to reply.

"U-Uh-huh, I'm - shit - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Steve…."

"Atta girl." Though his fingers don't relent in the brutal pace they've set, he does bend his hand down enough so he can lap at your clit again. Tears eke out of the corners of your eyes and drip slowly into your hairline, and when you find your voice again, it bursts out of you in a broken scream.

It takes thirty seconds of consistent attention before he's got you close again, and you warn him of that fact by whining and tugging on his hair.

"You gonna cum for me?" he huffs, breath washing over your sensitive skin.

"Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck - oh fuck me, Steve -!"

"Soon, baby," he hums.

Your orgasm crashes into you full force, and your throat burns with the force of your wailing as you arch off the backseat; you guarantee you're pulling some of Steve's hair out with how tight your grip is, but he is decidedly unfazed. He milks this moment for all its worth, never stopping or slowing in his ministrations.

Tears flow down your cheeks freely, soaking into the neck of your shirt and wetting the hair you'd spent so much time on. The pleasure crescendos into something too intense to handle quickly. You choke out a few half-assed pleas, your brain melting out of your ears at this point, far beyond being capable of intelligible sentences, and Steve ignores you.

Clearly, you don't decide when Steve Harrington is done - he does.

Your orgasm seems to go on for days, months even, and just as the pain begins to nip at the edges of your earth-shattering pleasure, as you almost snap your legs shut and beg Steve to please just give you a small break, you feel it. 

Your second orgasm. Building, apparently in secret, riding the tails of your first one and sneaking up on you to the point you don't notice you're going to cum until your cunt spasms around Steve's fingers again.

"C-C-Cumming, cumming again, fuck, oh God, fuck, I can't - Steve, I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Steve assures, fingers working impossibly faster. You're astonished he doesn't have the mother of all hand cramps right now. Perhaps he does, and he just doesn't care. You don't think you care, either. "You can cum for me again, Y/N. Come on. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl."

This time, you don't even have the strength to scream. You weep and sag against the car door, body tremoring and barely managing a few pathetic pleas between hiccuping breaths.

You're drenched in sweat, and you're sure your makeup is fucked because of it. That and the tears, of course. You must look utterly trashed, but when Steve finally pulls off your poor, sore pussy with a pop, he looks at you like you're the single most beautiful creature on the planet.

He goes to wipe his lips with the back of one hand, and you notice slick shimmering down his chin and even splattered onto his neck. It's only then you feel the absolute lake of cum that’s accumulated beneath your ass, and your entire body burns bright red with embarrassment. He raises himself up on his palms, his arms boxing you in tightly.

"You are so gorgeous," he says, cupping your cheek in the hand that isn't glistening with your cum. You laugh shakily and lean into his touch.

"Sorry… 'bout your seats," you offer weakly, and he shakes his head. "You can ruin my upholstery anytime."

Steve leans down, dark eyes scanning your face, and smiles. It's a sweet, lopsided expression, nowhere near the self-satisfied, almost sadistic grin from earlier. They both quicken your pulse, but this one assures you you can at least take this moment to recover from possibly the best orgasm of your life.

First and second-best orgasms. Wow.

He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He slots his leg between yours, narrowly avoiding the puddle you've made, and cradles your head as if he's the only thing keeping it from flopping sideways. Frankly, he is. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead before leaning his own against it.

"You okay?" he asks. You nod, sighing and swallowing despite your parched mouth. Your hands rest atop your chest, curled up into each other meekly as you try to regain any semblance of strength in your extremities. You bump your lips into him again briefly.

"You're a remarkably fast learner, Steve Harrington," you mumble, voice hoarse. He chuckles. 

"It's easy when I have such an incredible teacher.”

It takes a few minutes to clean you - and the car - up. Steve digs around in his glove box for some old fast food napkins and gingerly sops as much of your cum out of his seats as he can while you lay on your side, curled up and heavy-lidded as the adrenaline slowly dribbles out of your system. He dabs the sweat from your brow, following the rough, cheap napkin with gentle kisses to soothe your flushed skin. Afterward, he bunches the napkins and shoves them in his passenger side door before rejoining you in the backseat. 

He hoists you up onto his lap and guides your head onto his shoulder, allowing you to nuzzle your face into his neck and inhale his scent as he rubs your back.

"Any more pointers?" he asks just before you've dozed off. You smile and shake your head.

"None whatsoever. You've exceeded my greatest expectations, dear pupil." He laughs and thumps your back appreciatively. It's not until you're readjusting slightly to get more comfortable that you realize something - Steve is still hard. Achingly so, it would seem, as you can feel the rigid denim stretched over his bulge so tightly you're surprised the zipper hasn't popped clean off. Heat stirs in your belly, and you make a soft, serene noise in your throat as you grind your bare pussy into his lap.

His hips stutter upward just enough for you to bounce slightly, and you giggle into the crook of his neck. "We still haven't taken care of you yet." "We don't have to if you're too tired," he assures you, voice little more than a deep hum against the shell of your ear. "I'm happy just makin' you feel good."

You consider it. You know you'll be sore tomorrow, regardless of if you choose to have more of Steve Harrington stuffed inside you, and your clit is throbbing and achy to the touch. You could fall asleep on his chest right now; he could keep you in this beautiful, dreamlike space for the rest of time if he wanted to. But there's a part of you, a part much, much louder than the part complaining about your sore slit or exhausted body, that is dying to know what Steve's dick looks like.

You leave a trail of kisses up from the hollow of his neck to the curve of his jaw and blink at him happily. Once your faces are close enough that his eyelashes are nearly tickling your cheekbones, you snake one hand between your bodies and trail a finger over the cold metal teeth of his zipper.

"Just 'cause my cunt is sore doesn't mean I'm totally out of commission," you purr. "And since you did so well with your mouth on me… don't you think it's fair I return the favor?"

You feel, rather than hear, the low moan that rumbles through Steve’s chest at the insinuation. You hook your nail through the eye of his zipper and give an experimental tug.

"Can I suck your cock, Steve?"

His lips are on yours almost before the question rolls off your tongue. His fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you still as his tongue explores inside your mouth. Steve's natural taste mixes with the taste of your slick in an intoxicating way, but just before your head starts spinning, he breaks the kiss enough to breathe, "You're gonna have to move, baby."

Of all the lewd, downright filthy things Steve Harrington has done and said tonight, the way he slurs the word "baby" against your swollen lips is the thing that makes you blush the hottest.

He reaches behind you and opens the car door, and you both shiver slightly as the cold air rushes in from the forest and cools your sweat-soaked skin. He pats your thigh and juts his chin forward, so you awkwardly clamber out of the BMW despite your wobbling legs. You lean one hand on the car's roof while Steve scoots to sit on the edge of the backseat and swings his legs onto the ground.

He brushes past you as he emerges from the car, planting a quick kiss on the top of your head before he pops the trunk and struggles with something inside for a moment. With a victorious smile, Steve waves the same raggedy blue towel that had been wrapped around "Lucille" before assuming his spot in the backseat again. He folds it in half once and lays it out between his spread legs atop the mud and sparse grass you're standing on.

"So you don't get your legs all dirty," he explains, observing your mildly confused expression.

"My legs?"

"It'd be killer on your back, sucking my dick while you're bent at the waist, wouldn't it?" Steve laughs, undoing his belt with deft fingers while he watches the realization dawn on you. "The least I can do is make you more comfortable and keep the mud and crap off your legs, right?"

“Yeah…totally…”

Words escape you as you watch the metal of Steve's belt buckle glitter in the moonlight while he slips the leather out of the loop. His shirt is riding up just far enough onto his stomach that you can see a dark thatch of hair leading upward from the hem of his jeans, and at that moment, you are determined to follow Steve's happy trail with your tongue at some point. As he pops the button on his pants, you release your grip on the car and collapse to your knees. You grab his hands and pull them out of the way, splaying your fingers across his thighs and squeezing.

"Let me," you say, eyes darting between his mostly undone jeans and his face. He chuckles at you, and you try to commit his crooked, sweet smile and warm brown eyes to memory. He's beyond handsome, drop-dead fucking gorgeous - and he's letting you suck his cock. You take a moment to thank whatever deity or greater cosmic force that's brought you to this exact moment in your life.

"Be my guest," Steve says, leaning back on his palms and staring down the bridge of his nose at you. You lean forward, using the grip on his legs to keep balance and capture the end of his zipper between your teeth. You drag it down agonizingly slowly while keeping complete eye contact with him. You can't look away from his amazed and steadfastly aroused face. Pants fully unzipped, you think you can make out that Steve is wearing dark red boxer briefs.

Very normal, all things considered, but you know in the back of your head that this particular shade of red will always make you horny now - Pavlov's dogs had their bell, and you drool at the sight of Steve Harrington's underwear.

Steve lifts his ass off the backseat just enough for you to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. You could pull his cock out through his underwear, but no, you want to see all of him, every last inch. Fair is fair, right? 

Steve is…fuck, he's big. Bigger than you ever even fantasized about. 

His cock springs upright fully after you've freed it from his boxers, and with a hard swallow and a fluttery feeling in your gut, you realize it's big enough to touch his navel. It curves toward his belly, an angle so perfect it's impossible not to imagine how it'll feel inside you once you can handle it. The head is flushed a dark red and slick with precum, and you watch in reverence as a milky bead forms at the slit. It's all you can do to not surge forward immediately and lick it off. The hair covering the base of Steve's dick and balls is dark, nearly black, and unexpectedly curly compared to the other hair on his body.

You reach a tentative hand out and wrap it around his shaft. He's so thick your fingers barely touch once you've made a fist. Steve hisses at the feeling and drops his head back a little.

"You're…so fucking big," you say breathlessly. Steve laughs and cards a hand through your hair, brushing sweaty strands away from your forehead. 

"You think you're gonna be able to handle it?" His voice drips with fake sympathy, so you nod your head despite being unsure. The head is so big you worry you won't be able to fit it in your mouth without your back teeth accidentally scraping it, let alone have it go down your throat. But the cocky, smug look he wears makes you want to suck his dick until he cries, just like you did. 

You nudge his shirt further up his torso, noting how solid his abdominal muscles feel beneath your palm, and dip your head down to his happy trail. You lay soft kisses amongst the thick, coarse hair, and Steve subtly squirms.

"Ticklish?" you ask. He narrows his eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

You chuckle, sorely tempted.

You copy his actions from earlier and lick a long, hot stripe with your flattened tongue up the entire length of his cock, stopping only to swirl around the head and lap up his precum. The salty taste blooms across your tongue and your mouth embarrassingly floods with drool as you suck and lick more of the flavor into it. You inch carefully down his shaft, opening your jaw as wide as possible to avoid an encounter between his dick and your molars and twirl your tongue around the length in your mouth to make up for what you can't wholly swallow yet. One hand wraps around the base to make up the difference, stroking up and down slowly as you bob your head.

It's an interesting, intricate dance, trying to fit Steve Harrington's monster cock in your mouth without outright biting it. You persuade your gag reflex to let him go down your throat a bit more, your quick strokes getting slicker and slicker with the drool that pours freely down Steve's dick and wets his pubic hair. Breathing through your nose proves difficult when his massive cockhead obstructs the back of your throat entirely, but you manage well enough.

Steve is absolutely beside himself. He's moaning unabashedly, and it's like music to your ears. He's the first man you've ever been with who makes noises outside of oddly paced-out grunts or a random curse word here or there, and it's having more of an effect on you than you ever could have imagined. You press your thighs together as more slickness drips from your throbbing cunt, free to gush almost to your knees without the interference of your panties. 

"Fuck, baby, fucking shit…fuck yeah, just like that… you're sucking my cock so good, you look so fucking hot right now, oh my God," Steve babbles, eyes fluttering and head lolled over to one side. He bucks his hips, probably involuntarily, and his cock bumps the back of your throat just hard enough that it makes you gag.

You cough and pull off him far enough to take a breath, your hand still firmly locked around his base and wet with spit. He laughs breathily and caresses your cheek as you pant.

“Sorry…sorry…I didn't mean to choke you. You're just… you're so good…."

"You can, uh…like, do that again if you want," you say shyly. Steve cocks an eyebrow.

"Do what?"

"That. What you just did. Again."

"You want me to gag you like that again?" It's said with genuine surprise, not judgment, and you smile sheepishly at him.

"Kinda, yeah…only if you're okay with it too, I just…I can handle it…."

He considers it, absently twirling a few strands of your hair around his fingers as he mulls your request over. Then, both hands slide to the back of your head and gather your hair into one large, tight handful that makes you sit up straighter. Cold air gusts against your freshly exposed skin, and you shiver as Steve leans forward and kisses your forehead. He uses his other hand to pull his jacket tighter around your body, tucking the collar against your throat.

"If you can handle it," he says, and with one smooth push, he's shoved you back down on his cock. The head bumps the back of your throat hard, and though your entire body jerks forward as you gag, Steve doesn't relent. He seems as determined as you were to fit the daunting length of his dick down your throat, and the fact you practically begged him to facefuck you appears to have dissolved any lingering inhibitions he may have had. He keeps one hand securely fisted in your hair, and the other moves to feel where his length is bulging through your throat. He hums lowly and strokes his fingers over your taut flesh.

"You can take more than that, can't you?"

You haven't even begun to respond before he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his way past your uvula, and you can only gag and shudder as your nose gets buried in the thick curls at the base of his cock. He guides you back by your hair only far enough that his head isn't bullying into your airway anymore, then pushes you back down - he does this over and over, hardly letting you have a moment to breathe while he chases his pleasure. You moan as you realize you've essentially become a means to an end, a method of reaching an orgasm, a warm, wet hole for Steve to fuck his cock into, and your fingers sneak down between your thighs to rub your aching clit.

Though you try to be discreet, you're soaked, and you can't do a thing to hide the obscene squelching sounds your pussy makes as you grind into your hand. Steve, with sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and drunk on lust, laughs.

"You're so fuckin' cute. You like bein' my cocksleeve that much, pretty girl?" You attempt a nod and a noise that leans toward acquiescence, and it's good enough.

Steve sets a rigorous pace, bringing you down far enough to kiss his pelvis every time, moaning a little louder when the muscles of your throat contract around his thick shaft as you gag. You are, admittedly, worried you'll puke at some point, and the thought of having arguably the best sexual experience of your life ruined by you blowing chunks all over Steve Harrington's penis does, unfortunately, cross your mind. But before you can dwell too long on it - and before the building nausea becomes too much for you to handle - Steve pulls you off his cock.

Your lips pop wetly as they leave his shaft, and you gasp shakily, the sudden influx of oxygen almost dizzying. Drool drips freely from your aching jaw and the thick strand of saliva that connects your mouth to the head of his dick glints in the moonlight overhead. Your fingers never stop working your clit, though your orgasm ebbs away after your throat ceases to be utterly abused.

"Why'd you stop?" you rasp.

"Was gonna cum too soon," he chuckles. You whine and surge forward, but you're stopped by the firm hand still ensnared in your hair. You crave the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue so intensely, and the fact he isn't letting you have it right away fills you with tantrum-level frustration.

"What, you want it?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ, please."

"Aww. You can beg much better than that." His fingers curl, tugging your hair at the root and jostling you back and forth a little.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he starts dragging you further away from his shining, dark-red cock. Drool and precum ooze from the tip and you can see it twitching every few seconds, and though your throat feels raw and sore, your jaw aches, and your legs are alight with pins and needles, you need it back in your mouth. You could kneel here all night, and you would swear you were in heaven. The brazen fire in your belly has been snuffed, replaced with the most thrilling need you've ever experienced, so you can't think of anything snarky to say in response. Instead, you do as Steve says, and you fucking beg.

"Please, please give it back, Steve."

"Give what back, baby?" he purrs.

"Your cock."

"What about my cock?"

"Please give me back your cock, Steve. Pretty please, I need it."

He clicks his tongue at you, giving your head a little shake again while your eyes are helplessly fixed on his glistening shaft. "Hmm, I still don't believe you."

A broken sob falls from your mouth before you can help it, and you paw helplessly at his thighs. "Please, please, please, fuck my face, Steve, please. I need it so badly. Please give it to me. I'll do anything, just please...."

He smiles and coos at you, bending down slightly to kiss your forehead softly. "You sound so pretty and pathetic for me, baby," he hums.

Your mouth is full again in a flash, and this time, it's evident that Steve has surpassed any pretense of being gentle with you. That clumsy, nervous boy from earlier has melted away, leaving this commanding, exceedingly bold, and surprisingly dominant man in his wake. His voice has lowered to just above a growl, rough with lust. The way he's reclining back and fucking your mouth like he's pumping into his fist, the way he teases and mocks you and eggs you on - it's fucking intoxicating. You can't get enough. You want him to go further; you want more, more, more.

"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming, fuck Y/N," Steve gasps, placing both hands on the sides of your head and driving his cock down your battered throat. The heat of your impending orgasm begins to pool between your hips, and you rub your clit furiously as you gaze up at Steve, trails of mascara-riddled tears tracked down your spit-wet cheeks.

The exact moment his cock pulses and the first hot, thick rope of cum shoots down your throat, you push yourself over the edge of your third orgasm of the night.

You moan as much as you can around his dick, body spasming uncontrollably, and the vibrations from your noises make him grip the seats beneath him so hard you think he’ll shred the upholstery. You try to swallow as best you can, and Steve does mercifully pull out just enough that the head of his cock rests against the middle of your tongue, allowing you room to breathe. His cum is salty and heady, and you're immediately addicted to it, and you hollow your cheeks to greedily suck more of it into your mouth. He looks at you with worshipful adoration, like you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your hand drops from your overstimulated clit as your orgasm abates, and you use it to hold onto Steve's thigh for balance. You distantly feel embarrassed about smearing slick on his jeans.

When Steve pulls his spent cock from your mouth and releases your bunched-up hair, you fall forward unceremoniously into his lap. You pant raggedly into the fabric clustered around his upper legs, trembling like you've been tossed in the snow. He praises you under his breath, almost like he's not entirely cognizant of what he's saying.

"You did such a good job, God, that was amazing…you did so well, baby…fuck…."

You smile dreamily, glowing under his praise. He pets your hair absentmindedly, and after a while, he gingerly guides you back so you're sitting on your haunches, the rough terrycloth of the towel digging into your knees. He looks beautiful in the bluish light of the evening, hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles, cheeks still dusted a light pink, lips swollen and red and wet with his spit. Steve cradles your face in his hands and rubs at the greyish tear tracks streaking your cheeks, almost embarrassed of their presence.

"Are you okay?"

You nod sluggishly, nuzzling your cheek into Steve's surprisingly rough palm. He smooths the frazzled hair he'd been tugging on so enthusiastically back away from your damp forehead, fluffing it apologetically once he realizes the style you'd sought to achieve is thoroughly ruined. You're sure you look destroyed, to be fair - most of your lipstick is smeared messily on the lower half of Steve's softening cock, so you imagine the rest of it is smudged down your chin and across your cheeks. When you wipe the back of your hand beneath your jaw to catch a few stray tears, your skin is stained blackish from the mascara-laden liquid. Definitely not Harrington-proof, you note amusedly.

"Lemme help you up," Steve says, scooting forward off the backseat and bending toward you. One arm snakes around your waist and tightens against the small of your back; the other hand knits itself against your right hand, and when Steve pulls you to your feet, you're pressed flush against his chest, bodies entwined like partners gliding across a dance floor. Despite everything that's happened in the last hour, you still giggle nervously at the lack of distance between your face and Steve's. He smiles sweetly, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

The hand clasped in Steve's twitches toward your lips reflexively. Your mouth still tastes like his cum, and while you certainly don't mind, you aren't sure if he will. He notices your hesitance, and after a moment, the reason seems to click for him. His smile grows imperceptibly.

Steve takes your face in both hands and kisses you deeply, licking your bottom lip before sliding his tongue against yours. Your already weakened knees wobble, threatening to let you drop like a ton of bricks right back to the rumpled towel beneath your feet. The tangy taste of your cunt still lingers on his tongue and mixes with the salty flavor coating your mouth; it's addictive, and for a moment, it tricks you into thinking you could go just one more round. The way your clit throbs painfully at the mere insinuation, however, quickly dispels that idea.

Steve presses a final, sweet kiss to the tip of your nose after he pulls away from your lips, and the way his eyes sparkle at you in the moonlight dashed across his face makes your stomach flip excitedly, a sensation you're almost embarrassed to feel. It seems too innocent, too chaste after everything you've done tonight, but your cheeks flush hotly regardless.

"You…are something else," Steve says quietly, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"You're one to talk."

You turn your head toward his palm, kissing his warm skin. The yellow-green light of his watch glows out of the corner of your eye, and when he twists his wrist a bit to the side, you catch a glimpse of the numbers.

No. No, that can't be right.

Steve makes a discordant sound as you yank his arm back toward your face, pushing his sleeve up to his elbow. You must've read the time wrong; it can't be that late.

But there it is, clear as day, in blocky electric numbers. Your curfew, which you've never broken, passed almost half an hour ago.

Your heart plummets down through your stomach, and you swear you hear it plop into the dirt at your feet.

"I'm so dead," you murmur, and Steve cocks his head quizzically.

"What?"

"I'm dead!"

You scramble toward the rearview mirror and tug it upward. You look absolutely wrecked. How will you explain why ninety percent of your makeup is gone? Why your hair looks like you've just gone through a tornado? Steve huffs out a confused laugh.

"Am I…missing something?" he asks, leaning casually against the side of the car. You tug the collar of your shirt up and scrub at your mouth - it makes your lipstick look worse and stains the inside of one of your favorite tops. Shit. You frenziedly try to work the buttons on Steve’s jacket closed, desperately tugging the collar up in an attempt to conceal the rapidly deepening red blotches he’s sucked into your skin. They’ll bruise by tomorrow, and if you weren’t in a blind panic, the thought would turn you on. Admittedly, it still does.

"I'm so, so late. My mom is gonna kill me," you say frantically. Maybe it'll be dark enough that no one will notice your lipstick…but they'll definitely see the black trenches carved into your cheeks. Shit.

You turn to the side, trying to tame your hair into a halfway decent shape. It doesn’t work, and you exhale roughly through your nose; the scrunchie you always wear around your wrist is snatched off, and you twist your hair into possibly the sloppiest, worst bun you’ve ever created, but it’ll have to do. Every single aspect of your appearance is like a bright red, flaring neon sign blinking above your head, ready to announce I HAD HOT SEX, AND THAT’S WHY I’M SO INCREDIBLY LATE.

You know it shouldn't matter; she doesn’t have much recourse since you're an adult, but fear still pangs in your gut so hard it makes you nauseous. You can picture it now, tiptoeing into the living room just to have the lamp in the living room flicker to life, your enraged and concerned mother silhouetted in the dim yellow light. You're sure you'll be able to see the steam rolling off her body in waves from where you'll be standing at the landing of the stairs. You'll be lucky if she lets you leave for the supermarket after this, let alone on another date.

"Shit, is it really that late?" Steve asks, and how his voice pitches up in genuine confusion only aids your panic. He bounds to the driver's side of the car, almost tripping over his feet as he fumbles the keys from his pocket and slams them into the ignition. Your butt barely touches the passenger side seat before the engine roars to life, and Steve slams on the gas.

Apologies tumble freely from his mouth as you clumsily clip your seatbelt into place, and you assure him it's alright as best you can while licking your fingers and scouring the mascara stripes off your cheeks. It doesn't work and tastes weird, but it's all you've got.

~~~

When Steve screeches up your driveway, you are an hour past curfew, and that’s only by the grace of God and Steve’s disregard for speed limits. 

You sling your purse strap over one shoulder and almost kick the passenger side door off its hinges as you get out of the car, but just before you're about to bolt up your driveway, you pause.

It wouldn't kill you to be just a little later, right?

You whip back around, and Steve stares up at you, a little breathless, flushed, and still so beautiful. You grip the edge of the window and bend down, poking your head inside the car.

"I had an amazing time," you say, and you wish Steve wouldn't smile at you the way he does because it makes you want to say, "Fuck it," and hop back in the car. But he does, and you don't, and he nods.

"You wanna do it again sometime? I mean, not, not it, like a date - well, we can do it again if you want to. I'm just saying we don't have to…."

He sighs, and you pretend not to notice the flexing and unflexing of his hands on the steering wheel. It's endlessly endearing how nervous he is when he isn't jamming his cock down your throat or eating you out like a starving man. Something in your mind wants to see how flustered you can make him, but you silence it.

"Such a way with words," you tease, and you cup his cheek in your hand. You kiss him tenderly, hoping it encapsulates everything you want to say but don't have time for right now. Fingers slide up the nape of your neck and ensnare themselves in your hair, keeping your lips locked for a few moments longer. Your mouth is swollen and chapped, but you'd kiss him all night if he'd let you. Maybe one day he will.

"I'd love to do this again, by the way," you hum against the corner of his mouth. "Assuming I live past tonight, that is."

"Looking forward to it, Y/N. Oh, and, by the way…."

He grips your hair, not too hard, but just enough to where you stiffen and let out a soft moan. He peppers kisses along your cheek, to your temple, to the shell of your ear.

"I'm keeping your panties. Maybe next time I'll shove 'em in your mouth if you try to play the quiet game again with me."

He releases his grip on your hair, and his hand purposefully slides along the curve of your jaw until it reaches your chin. He pinches it between thumb and forefinger and kisses the bewildered, now painfully aroused look off your face before leaning back, giving you a wink, and revving the car's engine.

"See you soon, baby," he calls. His car crunches back down your driveway, and you're left standing there, brain short-circuiting and threatening to melt out of your ears, hyperaware of the cold night air nudging against your bare pussy under your skirt. You press your thighs together and jam fabric between them self-consciously, hoping against hope that you won't flash your poor, unsuspecting mother, who is undoubtedly waiting for you to chew you out.

You turn unsteadily, gazing up at your house. The living room light is already on, and you can see a lithe shadow flitting anxiously from within the windows. You're going to get an earful.

It was so. Fucking. Worth it.

[sluttsumu]

ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru

warning: 18+, teacher x student, vaginal penetration, gojo being a naughty little minx, praise of you squint

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: i’m switching to lower case! so it’s intended, not proof read but enjoy professor gojo fixing his students lil problem ♡︎

pussy hungry professor, satoru gojo.

it’s been a while, ya know? since he’s heard the whole “i’ve been baaaaaad professor” speech. even though all of his female students would practically fall to their knees if presented the chance, but very few were actually bold enough to take matters into their own hands.

“how so?” he tilts his head, holding back a smirk. he wants to see how this’ll play out, right now he remembers seeing better acting in a porno. “you come to class timely, and return all of your assignments to me on time. so,” he leans forward, fabric sliding against the wood on his desk. his palm makes way for his chin to rest as he watches you. “help me understand your problem.”

you sat on the corner of his desk innocently placing your hands in your lap. except nothing was innocent about this at all, a teacher and a student was taboo no matter the circumstances. that didn’t stop the lust you had, every time he spoke, handed out a worksheet, called your name, it added gas to a fire that should’ve been put out since you started school.

“you distract me sir, make me nervous…”

gojo wasn’t buying this at all, that little scared look on your face along with the way you play with the hem on your skirt was just turning him on. “nervous?” he stands, meeting you in between your legs, standing in the void space. “you seem so comfortable sitting on my desk like this, hmm?”

“you’re a great student,” his hands creep up your thighs sending goosebumps to the rest of you skin. so cute, he thought. “why don’t i give you some extra credit since you’re always so good for me?”

you seemed like you needed something so gojo chose to give you a push, the ball was now in your court and he knew that’d you act like this wasn’t what you came in here for. how far were you willing to let your little fantasy go?

“s-sir? what do you mean… i-”

your fake obliviousness fell on deaf ears as he moved your panties to the side hiking up your skirt in the process while his thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves. “what i-if someone sees us.” you protest, tucking in your bottom lip to restrain the sounds of your pleasure from him toying with you.

“my door’s locked after hours, you know that ♡︎”

seeing you squirm under his touch has a tent forming in his dress pants, he could feel you getting wetter and wetter by the second. your face was really undoing him though. the flushed expression of pent up heat, he knew it all to well. “please,” you beg, head hanging back as he continues teasing your aching cunt.

“big girl words, just like the ones you use in all those papers you write me.”

“need you—! inside please.”

that was what he liked to hear, not the “b-but we shouldn’t.” bullshit you were spewing earlier. this was the type of work he loved seeing sprawled on his desk. his favourite straight A student earning her first D of the semester.

the sound of his belt buckle echoing quickly progressed to him rubbing against your folds, sinking into your throbbing cunt so fucking slowly, almost agonizing.

“christ,” he huffs, wrapping his arms around the plush of your thighs — spreading you open. “tight fuckin’ fit.”

you can’t believe this is happening, he’s so fucking big your cunt can’t help but flutter around him, and he fucking feels it. feels the way you’re squeezing him in like his cock belongs here, nuzzled between the folds of his star student.

“s’big, too big..” your hand flies to your stomach feeling him move in and out of you as you grow slicker. “ ‘m here,” he grunts, placing his hand atop yours pushing your top half to lie flat. “right here princess.” the pressure grows while he forces you to feel him, making you press down on your own stomach. “sir!!!”

your cunning teacher loves watching the way he makes you feel, hearing every moan, watching you spread open for him in the very place he teaches you every day. it’s so lewd but he doesn’t want to think about that, no, he can only think of how fucking tight you feel around his cock which you practically begged for the entire semester. gojo never wants it to end, rutting his hips into you that much faster at the thought of you practically fucking yourself in your seat for him yet he was too stubborn to notice.

“still nervous? or do you love getting fucked and filled by your professor.”

sluttsumu 2023

[kaynothanks]

MASTERLIST

my wattpad: kaynothanks (Stories in English and German)

MARVEL

Every Time I Close My Eyes

Homeless and alone, Carter fought to stay alive on the streets of New York City, merely fiery hatred keeping her warm at night. Her state of living, the death of her family⏤it all was their fault. And Carter would make sure to get her revenge. (Steve Rogers x female!OC) Available only on Wattpad

Sucker-Punch

You hated him, that patriotic idiot that seemingly never stopped spewing around his righteous crap. And he hated you, too and trusted you even less than he liked you⏤how could he not? Fury had hired you the second you had turned your back on HYDRA. (Steve Rogers x Reader) Word-Count: 6k

On His Collar

You hadn't meant to fall for your brother's friend. After the Blip, after you had returned, and after everything had changed, he had been there for you. You liked him⏤a lot⏤only your brother could never find out. (Bucky Barnes x Wilson!Reader) Word-Count: 12k

Shiver Me Timbers

Your life had always been quiet, calm, structured and you liked it that way. When Sarah Wilson, the mother of two of your students, invited you to a family barbecue, you found yourself stepping out of your comfort zone, not knowing it would send you straight into his path. (Bucky Barnes x teacher!Reader) coming soon

Grimwick Island

The government had exiled all power-wielding criminals and their families to a massive man-made island cut off from the country. After a decade, a new law has been passed, allowing the non-wielding children of certain non-violent criminals back onto the mainland⏤putting you under the firm supervision of Sergeant Barnes. (AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader) coming soon

The Bargain Store*

You were a goddess who had made a home of earth. For centuries you lived a secluded life, running your little shop in a quiet part of the city until the bell chimed and an unexpected visitor came to stand before you⏤someone who had sworn to kill you eons ago. Yet again, he was never one to keep his word. (Loki x goddess!Reader) Word-Count: 6.5k

VIKINGS

Deprived 

As King and Queen of Kattegat, most of your days were now spent trying to please your people, listening to their issues, trying to lead them the way they deserved. Though there was one problem on the matter, Ivar hated not having your attention (Ivar the Boneless x Reader) Word-Count: 2k

Dark Souls And Red Magic (Part One)

After the Englishmen slaughtered your sisters, you fled your home country, seeking safety in York, until Vikings came to raid the city. Vikings were a greedy breed. Strength, land, gold, silver, women. They wanted it all. Only what happened if they got their hands on the wrong woman? (Ivar the Boneless x witch!Reader) Word-Count: 13.1k

Blue Blood And Hollow Bones (Part Two)

With Ivar enchanted by your all, you try learning more about the cunning Viking leader, just how he was trying to gather as much about you as you would allow him to. Yet, he didn't even know your name. (Ivar the Boneless x witch!Reader) Word-Count: 16.2k

Green Ash and Dauntless Doves (Part Three) coming soon!

OUTER BANKS

A Crack in the Glass (Part One)

Sarah asked you to meet her new boyfriend, John B, at a kegger-party on the other side of the island, but your not-so-social self quickly flees the scene, only to catch the attention of a certain blonde Pogue. (JJ Maybank x Reader) Word-Count: 8k

A Rift in the Clouds (Part Two)

Sneaking around with a boy was one thing, sneaking around with a Pogue was another. Wanting to keep your relationship a secret and your head on your shoulders, you lied to your mother. A little white lie that had you sitting at the Cameron's dinner table and across from Rafe, the boy you had, in panic, told your mother you were dating. (JJ Maybank x Reader) coming soon

Bright Blue Converse

You had known JJ Maybank was trouble, from the first time you had laid eyes on him visiting your aunt over the summer. He was cheeky, carefree, and all you found yourself wanting. (JJ Maybank x Reader) coming soon

THE HUNGER GAMES

Behind The Sun

When your brother was chosen as a male tribute, you volunteered, swearing to yourself you would get him out of there alive even if it ultimately meant your own death. Hoping anything would change was a stupid thing, just like allowing yourself to feel anything for the male volunteer of District Four⏤you would be forced to kill each other in little under a week, after all. (Finnick Odair x Reader) Word-Count: 20k

STRANGER THINGS

Tape From Hell*

You didn't know how you had even ended up in such a situation, though in the end, you had only yourself to blame. It was an idiotic thing, dating Billy Hargrove. You knew what he was like, which is why you shouldn't even have been surprised to find him flirting with Mrs. Wheeler. Driving home at the end of the day, you ran over something, getting out to check, until that something pulled you into the depth of Brimborn factory. (Billy Hargrove x mindflayed!Reader) Word-Count: 14k

Romeo Died*

It was true what most of the girls whispered about him, he was mean and hot and just as hot-headed. Still, you thought he might be just a little nice too, with him having given you a ride home. You would never have called Billy Hargrove a friend⏤but misery sure does love company. (Billy Hargrove x Reader) Word-Count: 26k and no he doesn't die in this!

Theater Of Denial

Having spent most of your life caged like an animal in a place seperating you from normalcy, you weren't all that much customary to standard human interactions. Put in a place where nothing stood out more than abnormalities⏤high school⏤you find yourself intrigued by the tempestuous aura of none other than Billy Hargrove and well, he just found you odd. (Billy Hargrove x Subject!Reader) coming soon

Stairway Chase

You had always been a good girl, followed the rules⏤even went to church with your parents each Sunday no matter how little you truly cared for the sermons⏤since it was expected of you. Life in Hawkins had always been slow, perhaps even kind of dull, until it suddenly wasn't anymore. (Billy Hargrove x Reader) coming soon

Mr. Brightside*

Billy was your lab partner and he wasn't very nice. He was blunt and grumpy and mean. You tried terribly hard to not let it get to your head until he cussed you out in front of the whole school, that is. Angered, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, making it your mission to turn the rest of the school year into his own personal hell. (Billy Hargrove x Reader) coming soon

Killer Queen

Before Billy came along, it had been you that had held a particular reputation among your fellow students. It was all bullshit rumors that had somehow kicked you to the top of the popularity pyramid. And if Billy liked one thing, it was a challenge. (Billy Hargrove x Reader) coming soon

Creepshow

Alcohol was, as you had noticed, perhaps not always the best thing for you. It had all been fun and games with loud music and lots of people⏤a party for the books as the host had oh so gleefully cheered. Until you had ended up drunk on the dance floor and where the hell was your shirt? Your boyfriend wasn't too pleased when he came to pick you up. (Eddie Munson x Reader) coming soon

Amityville

You and Eddie Munson had never exactly gotten along. Perhaps it was his relentless need to push your buttons or the fact that you had once spilled your milkshake over his head and he had hated you ever since. When you find yourself forced to tutor him, the milkshake is bound to make a comeback. (Eddie Munson x Reader) coming soon

THE WALKING DEAD

Walk By Daylight

With you forced to watch the most infuriating prisoner known to what was left of mankind, Negan, you try persuading your boyfriend to end your misery⏤in other words, trip and accidentally shoot the bat-swinging bastard. (Daryl Dixon x Reader) Word-Count: 1k

Menaces And Monsters

It was early on when you found that being cooped up in a settlement was more horror for you than the horror that was awaiting you outside the high walls. So, you packed your bags and got on the road, only to find yourself stuck on a roof in a small town with a rugged stranger and a herd of hungry dead below. (Daryl Dixon x Reader) Word-Count: 21k

Menaces and Monsters (Rewritten) only on Wattpad with 30k words!

Hypocrite

When you went out hunting the last thing you expected was to stumble upon a half-dead male, wounded and bleeding. Almost leaving him to his fate, you decide to believe in the last remnants of good in humanity and bring him with you to your home, nursing him back to health. (Daryl Dixon x Reader) coming soon

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES

Basket Case

Exiled from your coven, your family, they had made you do this⏤killing every last one of them and stealing their powers, just like they had stolen yours. The night they had betrayed you, a promise of the fate waiting for them had been sealed. When another coven in the area stumbles upon what you had done, they imprison you to an endless life by your lonesome. That is, until the world shifts. (Kai Parker x witch!Reader) coming soon

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[ackerfics]

slow dance with you — mikasa ackerman

— goth!mikasa ackerman x soft!female reader (modern au)

— warnings: slight mention of alcohol, pure rotten fluff

— summary:  after gaining some courage from the drinks she had in the party and from the advice she got from her friends, mikasa is ready to become your girlfriend.

— word count: 3.9k

— author’s notes: i would like to thank the anon who gave me some ideas for goth!mikasa, you are so amazing !! thank you for the small headcanons. and since we’re on the topic of writing abt goth!mikasa, i couldn’t help but pair her up with a classic soft girl who likes to wear pink at every time of the day. this dynamic is based on marceline and princess bubblegum so i hope you enjoy !!

p.s. the reader will have dyed hair here, if this is not your cup of tea, just let this fly by your dash.

listen to this while reading.

“She dyed her hair pink,” came a dazed yet mesmerized tone.

“You’re staring at her again.”

Mikasa jumped on her seat at Eren’s nonchalant observation. She whipped her head to her best friend, his attention directed on his laptop, hands flying across the keyboard as he typed out the next few words in his essay. Noticing the incredulous look the black-haired girl was shooting him, Eren rose an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. Mikasa huffed, crossing her eyes with a subtle hue of red on her cheeks, complimenting her dark lipstick. “I am not staring,” she mumbled. “Shut up, Eren.” She looked away from her subject of interest but continued shooting small glances.

Eren sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was always one of the witnesses of his best friend slash sister being meek around her crush. At first, he was teasing her because not going to lie, Mikasa’s crush is a pretty person but as their years in college made them juniors, Eren will be the reckless idiot that he is (courtesy of Armin) and set Mikasa up. But he liked to live his life out first — Mikasa will probably curse him with that spellbook she bought from the antique bookshop they encountered in their little exploration back when they were first-years. “Mikasa, why don’t you take the chance and confess to her? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”

“If she rejects me? What then?”

“Then that’s the next problem that you will have to face.” The brown-haired boy turned back to his essay. He stared at his laptop screen blankly before spewing out curses. “Now, I forgot what to write next! Damn it.” He picked up his iced coffee and drank from the metal straw as his life depended on it.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at her best friend’s first statement. “Gee, thanks for the advice. It was very much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of help.”

There was a thud on their table that made the two look up from their respective activities. Eren had a scowl on his face because for the nth time this day, he was interrupted from finishing his essay (for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t want to fail Ackerman’s class). Mikasa blinked from scrolling through her crush’s Twitter account (the last post she wrote was about how Levi Ackerman, Mikasa’s relative and everyone’s Anthropology professor) and fixed her attention on their blonde friend, Armin. He looked too bright after a round of morning classes, something that Eren doesn’t comprehend. The blue-eyed young man has always been the rational and genius third of their little group. There wasn’t a time where Armin’s advice got a situation to erupt in flames. It was either the situation became an inferno instead (Eren) or nobody had the guts to do it (Mikasa).

“Hey, guys!” Armin greeted, arranging his side of the table, meticulously placing each component of his lunch in front of him. “How were your morning classes?”

“Shit,” Eren spat out.

“Of course, it is.”

“They were alright,” Mikasa shrugged.

“Figured.” Armin glanced at his friend’s sides of the table, nodding at Mikasa’s balanced lunch while blankly staring at Eren’s laptop. The device should’ve been a good tray of lunch. “I thought you were eating lunch, Eren? That’s what you said in your text.”

“Can’t,” the brown-haired boy huffed. He gestured at his iced coffee without taking his eyes off the laptop. “I guess, this counts as my lunch.”

“When’s that essay due?”

“In about,” Eren looked at the time on his laptop, “three hours. Ackerman is my first period later. That fucking terror professor has no mercy when it comes to this. Can he just piss off for once? Mikasa, do you even tell him to get laid? Because I think that would solve his attitude. I swear to God, he’s getting more pissed every damn day.”

“Wow, I guess getting my short, grumpy, middle-aged uncle to start his sex life will be a nice conversation starter,” Mikasa drawled, half-lidded, bored eyes reading every tweet her crush has posted for the entire week. Mikasa couldn’t help but smile at one post about a new movie her crush just watched, saying that it was now a new favorite. She was tempted to give a heart on every single post but that would it weird because they never followed each other despite the small interactions they shared in between classes. With a sigh, she looked up, only to be met with Eren’s unamused stare. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What? Do you think that would work, Eren? Levi is probably a virgin his whole life and will continue his record until he’s all shriveled up.” Eren blanched at the image. “Just finish your homework and stop complaining.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough, that’s for sure. If you just started that essay the day he assigned it to your class, you would have finished it way before the deadline.”

Eren pointed at Mikasa with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even go there, Mikasa. I have a life aside from being a sleep-deprived college student.”

“I mean, she’s got a point, Eren.” Armin immediately rose his hands in defense when Eren shifted his glare from the black-haired young woman to him. “You always tend to procrastinate in the most impeccable timing that we sometimes have to remind you of your backlogs. And now, here you are, doing things last minute when you could’ve prevented the rush by doing it immediately.”

“Thanks for slapping the reality to my face, you two,” Eren dryly replied, going back to his essay for the final time. “And by the way, Armin, give Mikasa some solid advice that she will finally follow because she’s making googly eyes at Miss Pretty two tables from us a couple of minutes before you arrived. You know, the love of her life?”

Armin roamed his eyes in the lunch hall and sure enough, there was Mikasa’s goddess sitting with her group of friends. There was that brown-haired girl that was dubbed as the Potato Girl for eating mashed potatoes during Ackerman’s class (the professor told the class his rules of no eating or going out of the room while he’s discussing the moment the girl took a spoonful of her snack). A young man with a buzz cut snorting at what the brown-haired girl said. Armin remembered sharing a class with him. He never got the chance to introduce himself because the young man was sleeping throughout the lecture. There was usually a fourth person in the little group but it seems like he was running late or already in his class. That person was Eren’s sworn frenemy, the reason for that relationship was unknown to this day.

The three people at the table all stood up, the brown-haired girl and the taller young man leading the way. Armin instantly had an idea.

“Hey, [Name]!”

Mikasa nearly had whiplash from turning her head to Armin. “Armin?!” she hissed under her breath, face becoming hotter when you looked at their table, a bright smile lighting up your face. You called your friends, telling them to go on ahead without you, to which they nodded before walking towards the trio’s table. Her brain wasn’t processing the moment you lifted a hand to wave at whoever you were smiling at. Mikasa wished it was her. “Fuck,” she whispered, registering how cute you look. You donned a salmon pink plaid sundress and a white cardigan, matching with the bubblegum pink locks you let down. Her heart was hammering a thousand miles per second and there was no hope of stopping it.

“Hi, Armin,” you replied, stopping a few feet from Mikasa, who looked away from you to fix her wide-eyed stare on her empty plate.

“I was just going to ask if you already have a partner in our Molecular Biology lab?” The blue-eyed young man then turned to Mikasa and Eren. “I’m in the same class as her this year.”

“As if calling her here wasn’t that obvious,” Eren murmured, still typing out his essay.

“I don’t need your dry remarks right now, Eren, don’t want to ruin the atmosphere. So, [Name], you have a partner?”

You shook your head. “I think not. It would be great if we could be partners though. I need a break from the people I’ve been partnered with throughout college.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. It was true, though. Most of the grouping during your first years of college were all set up by the teachers so the students really had no say on the matter at hand. Even Armin was exposed to a variety of students, most of them being too slacking to participate or too overbearing with their suggestions that they have no plans of doing. He nodded with a smile, “I’ll be sending an email to Professor Zoe about this and we’re done.” He glanced behind you, noticing that your two friends weren’t there anymore. “I’m sorry for holding you up. I’m pretty sure you have a class after lunch. See you around?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, I told them to go ahead since Sasha has a class scheduled right after lunch and Connie had to nap in his dorm. And I don’t have any class the whole afternoon, except for an online session so yeah, see you around, Armin.” You acknowledge Eren with a nod, to which he responded with a cool expression (as if his mind wasn’t a mess from the cramming), and gave a soft smile to Mikasa, “Bye, Mikasa.” And you were off to your dorm, leaving behind two amused men and an awestruck Mikasa.

The black-haired young woman was hyperventilating the moment you disappeared from the lunch hall, hands clenched on top of her black shorts. She regretted wearing a thin, long-sleeved striped sweater under her black shirt because it was so fucking hot after that encounter. Her entire body was vibrating with too many emotions all at once, short-circuiting until she became a heap of flustered mess in front of her best friends. “Oh, my God,” she muttered like a prayer. She definitely needed one after seeing you all pretty in pink. It was too much for her soul because you two are a perfect match this time. Her grommet belt and choker were not helping because she couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Mikasa, breathe,” Armin reminded beside her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Once she regained her composure, Mikasa realized she probably looked like a gaping fish. “Oh, my God! I’m so sure that this time, she thinks I’m weird. My name is the only one she mentioned aside from Armin which is saying something because she’s classmates with him. But why did she say goodbye to me? Oh, my God, she’s giving me so many butterflies right now.”

“Your gay is showing,” Eren pointed out calmly.

“Eren, not the time,” Armin murmured, hovering his hands over Mikasa’s back.

“Just wanted to alleviate the tense atmosphere. No need to get so worked up.”

“But, Mikasa, your feelings for her are showing.”

Eren clapped his hands, pointing a finger at Armin. “That, my friend, is a genius observation.”

Ignoring the green-eyed man, Armin continued, “I think it’s time you confess to her. Three years is a pretty long time pining for a person. In the end, her knowing your feelings will be inevitable. That is if you have no plans in letting her know.”

“Of course, I want her to know,” Mikasa murmured, fiddling with the sleeves of her striped long-sleeves.

“I heard that there’s a party this Saturday in Reiner’s frat,” Eren told them, meeting both of his friends’ eyes over the top of his laptop screen. “We’re in the same football team with Jean. The horseface is a friend of your girl,” he nodded at Mikasa, who erupted in a sputter of her crush not being her girl, “okay, not your girl — yet. As I was saying, [Name] is good friends with Jean and if Jean is there, Miss Pretty in Pink will be, too. That’s your chance to ask her out, Mikasa.” He met the blinking gray eyes of his best friend. “The question is, are you up for that?”

-

“You were staring at her so hard at lunch again.”

You looked up from your book to acknowledge Sasha entering your dorm room after a whole afternoon of packed lectures. The brown-haired young woman was so tired that she immediately plopped on top of her bed on the other side of the room. At first, you didn’t register what she said because you were preoccupied with your book. You chose to indulge the night in a good book because it has been a long time since you’ve done that. With furrowed eyebrows, you asked, “Can you repeat what you said, Sasha?”

Sasha tilted her head to look at you with one eye uncovered by her duvet. Her hair fluttered after puffing out a breath of disbelief. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no idea, Miss Pretty in Pink.”

“That’s because I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, gesturing at your novel. “And what’s with that Miss Pretty in Pink nickname? Did some of the students around campus started that?”

“Sort of,” Sasha hummed. She sat up from her bed and took out her phone from her backpack lying on the floor. You watched the whole time she stretched her arm without changing her position on her bed. With her phone in hand, she opened her Twitter account. “Actually, a friend of mine tweeted it, wait, I’m just going to scroll through my Likes tab to find her tweet. Oh, here it is.” Sasha showed you her screen, patiently waiting for you to take the device from her hand to get a closer look. Her hopeful smile turned into a small pout when you made no moves in doing so. “Take my phone and see for yourself.”

You sighed, following her pleas. “It’s probably just someone from the volleyball team. You know how some of them never stopped following me around campus. Can’t they take the hint that they’re not my type?”

“This person is much better than those himbo simps following you around. She’s an amazing person behind that shy exterior of hers.”

You only hummed, blankly staring at your roommate’s phone before your eyes widened in realization. Your eyes skimmed over and over again at the handle, mkackerman, beside the display picture of a short-haired girl in pigtails. It was the girl that managed to capture your attention during your first year at Eldia University. The girl with an air of mystique that the stars are jealous of. You always admired her from afar, appreciating her style each day. But your admiration was getting replaced with something more at the five words she tweeted. 

You’re so pretty in pink.

Roses bloomed in your cheeks, complimenting your pink hair the longer you gawked at her short post. 

“What?” you breathed out after a full minute of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Sasha hummed with a smug smile. “And who dyed her hair pink impulsively last weekend?” She intentionally looked at you with sharp eyes, her smile turning into a smirk full of mischief. In actuality, Sasha knew of Mikasa’s crush on you since they were acquainted with each other. It was an embarrassing first meeting between the two, with Sasha latching on a random person’s arm in the station and it turned out to be Mikasa. The two became great friends after that, well, after Mikasa lowered her guard down, leaving her pocket knife safely tucked underneath her checkered skirt. It was Sasha who managed to make Mikasa confess of her undying love for you, the former squealing her heart out in the library. (They were kicked out after that.) 

“I don’t know,” you denied. “There could be a couple of people in the campus who thought that spontaneously dyeing their hair pink is an awesome idea.” You threw your hands in the air, giving back Sasha her phone right after.

“Trust me. Mikasa doesn’t have any interest in any other girl other than a special someone I know.”

You chose to ignore her, turning back on the discarded book on top of your covers. The words flew around your mind, aggravating you until you placed the novel on your lap. A defeated sigh came out of your lips. “Okay, let’s go out for some dinner.” You stretched, switching your pajama bottoms for a pair of loose jeans, and leaving your button-down pajama top on. The people in public will never know your top is a part of a pajama set. As you ducked down to roll the bottom of your jeans, you hear Sasha’s bed shuffling. Sitting up, you regarded her with an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

“Oh, alright. Jean told me to bring you to a party.”

You stood up, patting your lap of imaginary dust, placing your things and book inside your tote bag. “Tell him no. I have a written exam coming up and I don’t want to fail one of my majors. He can manage without one person in our friendship group.”

Sasha huffed, mimicking your actions. “This will be the last time!”

“You said that the previous party you pulled me to.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “I couldn’t get up for a whole day because of that party. Don’t forget your wallet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha threw her wallet in her small bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “I promise that this will be the last time, I’ll even call Connie for the witness of my pact!” She placed a heartfelt palm over her chest, lifting her chin a little in the air. “I solemnly swear I am … keeping my promise.”

“You hesitated.”

The brown-haired girl giggled sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kind of hard not to continue the quote from Harry Potter. You can’t blame me for that!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better because Mikasa will be there.”

You blinked at her statement. “What does this have to do with her?”

Your roommate looped her arm with yours, pulling you in the direction of the elevators. “Because,” it sounded like she was talking to a child, “you were staring at her earlier during lunch period. I understand that because Mikasa looks so good every second of the day but there was something different about the way you’re staring at her.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me see, there’s some pizzaz there.”

“The pizzaz you’re talking about is me admiring her make-up — nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” came Sasha’s sing-song voice. “I will be the first one who will say ‘I told you so’ to your face when you two start dating.”

-

The night of the party was not as bizarre as you thought.

Sure, there were people having shots in the living room but there weren’t any extreme scenarios lying around unlike some of the parties Connie and Jean went to. It was mostly catching up with old friends or making connections with strangers by ranting about the education system of your university. All in all, it was a fun night, yet here you are, holding your cup of beer with two hands as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of Sasha. Your roommate disappeared as you turned to get a shot, leaving a confused you behind. To think you specifically asked Sasha to be by your side throughout the night. You cursed in your head, you being reliant on the presence of others surfacing. Your stress made you tip your head back, downing your drink in a go.

Without anything to do, you leaned back on the wall. Mind hazy, eyes glassy, you searched the living room for a spunky brown-haired girl that you were supposed to be buddies with. Instead of Sasha, you met gazes with a girl with stars for her eyes. She was equally mesmerized as she was staring straight at you. Everything became silent as your heartbeat resonated with hers. She was beautiful in her all-black outfit — a leather pencil skirt over fishnet stockings, cropped tank top, and combat boots. The two of you are contrasting with one another; her lipstick so dark whilst yours shone a pretty coral, her hair framing her face in a midnight pixie cut whilst yours were in pink waves cascading down, her entire appearance blending in the background whilst you were a beacon with your coordinating soft outfit. 

God damn it, Sasha was right.

You are definitely falling in love with Mikasa Ackerman.

Mikasa who you saw reading tarot cards of her blonde friend. Mikasa who you bumped into during the opening ceremony two years ago. Mikasa who you discovered to have an affinity for electric guitars when you stumbled in one of the auditoriums, her department’s band having an audition. Mikasa who never meets your gaze because you make her nervous at how effortless you carry yourself. 

But tonight, she never looked away from you, her eyes having an adoring yet determined shine.

She stopped in front of you, mere inches separating you two. You looked up at her, her combat boots making her taller than she already is. You saw her eyes flick to your lips, your breath hitching at the thought of having her dark lipstick on any part of your body. With a careful tilt of her head, Mikasa ducked her head a little to fully meet your eyes face to face. “I saw you’re alone,” her voice is still soft-spoken as if she was afraid that she was scaring you. It might be because of the liquid and verbal courage she got from drinking and listening to her best friends because Mikasa had no plans of letting you go tonight. “I thought you needed company.”

A breath came out of your lips, your proximity making Mikasa feel it. “Uhm, if it’s you, I don’t see why not?”

A large smile brightened Mikasa’s face before it dimmed as she lowered her gaze to your lips once more. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”

Maybe your mind was too hazy with alcohol or it could be because you accepted your feelings for the black-haired girl, so you whispered, lips brushing against hers in the most addicting way possible, “Just kiss me, Mikasa.”

Her lips softly moved against yours in a slow dance, the inches separating you disappearing as Mikasa wrapped an arm around your waist. You lift a hand to cup her jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and to brush your tongue with hers. You felt her shiver, biting your lower lip to make you open up more, with your whimpers tingling her hearing. Mikasa pulled away, trailing firm kisses on the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Seeing the black kiss mark on your skin, she smiled and placed fluttering kisses on your neck up to your cheek. Opening your eyes, the silver grays in front of you have never been so beautiful. You returned the favor of placing kiss marks. You stood on your tiptoes, feeling Mikasa’s hand steadying you, and left a coral pink mark on the corner of her mouth. 

Mikasa dipped her head, placing her lips close to your ear.

“I want to slow dance with you,” she sung to your ear. “I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues. I want to slow dance with you.” Mikasa hid a small smile at your flustered expression. “So can I be your vampire queen, Bonnie?”

The moment you said yes, there was a shout in the crowds. “Hell yeah, your plan worked, Eren, Armin!”

You and Mikasa stared at each other with wide eyes before laughing. 

“Let’s go ditch this party.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Bonnie.”

[whoseafraidofliloleme]

Invisible Chapter 4

Summary: YN YLN has always been third in Class 2-5, right behind Lee Su Ho and Kang Soo Jin but with both of them having left Saebom Highschool, this is her time to shine. That is until Han Seosangnim asks her to tutor Han Seo Jun. A guy who doesn’t even know she existed.

Ship: Han Seo Jun x Female Reader.

Word Count: 3398 (I really can't write short chapters. Sorry I guess😂🤷🏽‍♀️😭)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated with any reactions or whatever you want to say. Again I really don't know where I am going with this.

True Beauty Masterlist.

Chapter 3.

(I tried finding a gif of the class but couldn't so this will have to do)

Chapter 4:

As you and Seo Jun got to the bus stop. You finally dared to look back and saw that Hae Sung wasn’t behind you. You sighed and looked at Seo Jun, tapping his arm around your shoulders with your other hand.

Seo Jun quickly removed his arm from your shoulders and bumped shoulders with you, smirking at you. He sat down on the bench and motioned at you to sit next to him. Once you sat down next to him, you looked at him.

“Thanks for what you did and said back there, I really do not want to deal with Hae Sung right now” You thanked Seo Jun. Putting his arm around you and helping you to avoid talking to Hae Sung, was a relief. You’d almost forgotten about the argument with Hae Sung while tutoring Seo Jun, seeing him waiting outside, just hit you like a train with the memories of what he said.

“I don’t need an excuse to punch that idiot, just tell me now and Ill happily go and punch him” Seo Jun shrugged, then pointed at the bus approaching and stood up to get on the bus, looking at you, waiting for you to get up too.

You shook your head, Seo Jun looked confused but sat down again next to you.

“Uh, wasn’t that your bus? I don’t have my motorbike so how are you going to go home?” Seo Jun asked you.

“So, what I got out of that is, if you did have your bike, you would’ve given me a ride home,” You asked Seo Ju back laughing when he glared at you. After seeing his glare so much in the last few days, you were growing immune to it. At least you were starting to differentiate between the types of glares Seo Jun had.

“I don’t know how you know what bus I usually get, you stalker but I’m going to Mi Soo Unnie’s apartment. Hae Sung is my neighbour and I know he’ll turn up at breakfast tomorrow morning, so the best way to avoid him is to go live with Unnie for the rest of the week”. Shaking your head, you take a breath after saying so much. What is it about Seo Jun that just makes you word vomit and ramble on, when you barely talk to anyone in your class but with him, you feel like talking about anything and everything.

Seo Jun looked at you sadly, he couldn’t imagine having to deal with Lee Hae Sung as a best friend. That was something coming from him when he had to deal with Lee Su Ho and his stupidity, then again both of them had been at fault for the rift in their friendship but it was all sorted now and he couldn’t be happier about the place he was in with Su Ho.

“YN your really going to avoid your own home just so you don’t have to deal with Lee Hae Sung also doesn’t that other bus go in an opposite direction of the school. That is some level of dedication to avoiding him.” Seo Jun couldn’t understand not going home just to avoid someone, he would miss his bed too much and if that person dared show up at his apartment, well they were definitely not going to be leaving with breakfast.

You smiled, he made a good point, the lengths you were going to were extreme. But this was needed, you needed to put some distance between you and Hae Sung. The things he said to you may not have been the worst stuff he’s spewed out in an argument, but this time it was making you rethink your entire friendship.

“It’ll be okay, Unnie was saying how Joon Oppa was on a business trip and she felt lonely in their apartment, I was going to stay with her this weekend anyway, now I’m just going a bit earlier and her apartment isn’t all that far away from school, I’ll still be on time Seo Jun don’t worry” You explained, As you finished speaking you saw the bus you needed and stood up, searching for your bus pass as you waited for the bus.

Seo Jun laughed at your reply, before tapping your shoulder and giving you your bus pass that had fallen to the ground in your search for it. You thanked him and got on the bus, you turned expecting Seo Jun to get on with you, but he just gave you a small smile and waved at you. You waved back and then found a seat on the bus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Choi Soo Ah looked at her classmates. She had managed to convince them all, to come into school extra early to discuss how they were going to deal with showing Lee Hae Sung that he was wrong about Class 2-5 and quite frankly YLN YN didn’t even need him in her life.

For some reason Kim Cho Rong and Song Si Woo were also there but considering that YN, Cho Rong and Song Si Woo were close, she allowed it. Even if the messages she had painstakingly forwarded to everyone explicitly stated that this was important Class 2-5 only business.

Although she should probably thank Cho Rong and Si Woo, for being the ones who had managed to get Han Seo Jun to come to this meeting. Though from what Ju Kyung had told her, maybe Seo Jun was starting to care for YN just a little more than he cared for the rest of Class 2-5.

Which was great for him, sure she shipped Seo Jun and Ju Kyung. But really, she just wanted Seo Jun to be happy and if he was happy with YLN YN then Soo Ah was going to give them every opportunity for that crush to turn into like then love.

“Look guys I know you're tired but we need to have a plan, after what Hae Sung said, there’s no way I’m okay with this friendship carrying on, YLN YN deserves better from a guy who claims to be her best friend” Soo Ah exclaimed loudly, she needed to get everyone up and roaring to go with ideas. Not tired and falling asleep on her right now.

“Can't we just help her to avoid him and that’s it, she’s already living with her sister to avoid Lee Hae Sung” Seo Jun complained, while he was all for making sure that YN didn’t cry over Lee Hae Sung again, he did not appreciate losing sleep to be surrounded by his annoying classmates to plan this.

“Omo, she’s living with Mi Soo Unnie, yah that’s so much more travelling for her. Ugh, the things Lee Hae Sung is making the poor girl do” Hyun Ji said, this whole situation made her angry. She liked to think of herself as YLN YNs best female friend and she had never liked Hae Sung to begin with.

That confused Seo Jun, was Hyun Ji wrong or did you lie to him yesterday. Even if she did lie, why was Seo Jun annoyed at that, you weren’t that close to him. Why should he expect you to not lie to him, and he understood her reasoning for lying but it still stung that she didn’t just tell him the truth. He knew that you probably only said that to him so that he didn’t complain more about Hae Sung being the reason that you were going to live with your sister.

Ju Kyung sighed. With what Hyun Ji said, everyone was suddenly awake now and we're all speaking over each other. This was not helping in the slightest. She locked eyes with Seo Jun and begged him with her eyes to do something to get everyone to be quiet.

Thankfully, Seo Jun understood Ju Kyung’s begging and very suddenly he banged his hand on his desk. That shocked everyone into silence, he motioned to Ju Kyung who smiled at him and started talking about what she thought would be a good way to go about this plan to get you to drop Hae Sung as a friend.

From there, it was a productive discussion, and everyone managed to agree on a plan. It was decided that the quicker they all started acting, the quicker you would drop Lee Hae Sung as your best friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were running to class. You had woken up at the normal time for school. Forgetting that you were living with Mi Soo Unnie and the journey from Unnie’s house to Saebom was over an hour longer than it was from your house.

Mi Soo Unnie offered to drive you to school, but it was her day off and you felt bad to make her leave the house just to drive you to school. Especially when you had dropped in on her randomly without even telling her.

You saw Han Ssaem leave the Teachers Room and that made you fear being late and so that gave you more reason to sprint to your class. You got to the class and stood at your desk panting, trying to catch your breath. You felt a tap on your shoulder and just waved it off, assuming it was Hyun Ji or someone else.

That same person cleared their throat and you looked at Hyun Ji’s desk and saw her pointing behind you, your eyes widened in shock. If Hyun Ji was sitting at her desk, then that meant….

You turned around and saw Han Ssaem looking at you expectantly. You smiled at Han Ssaem awkwardly before sitting down quickly and looked back at Han Ssaem after taking out your books.

Han Ssaem laughed at you and shook his head, he put his papers down and started with his announcements for the day. You let out a sigh of relief, thank goodness it was Han Ssaem and not Kim Seosangnim, she would’ve had your neck for being late and given you detention immediately.

The bell rang for the break and you stretched your arms. You wanted to take a walk, maybe go to the Shop but as you looked around the room, your eyes went to the door and there you saw Hae Sung standing there. You made brief eye contact, but you looked away from him pretty fast.

As you stood up, Hyun Ji came up to you and linked your arms with hers. She smiled and started to just take you with her outside from the back door, completely ignoring Hae Sung at the other door, on your way Hae Sung tried to interrupt Hyun Ji and talk to you but somehow every guy in Class 2-5 would get in his way and stop him. You didn’t know what was going on with your Class, but you were grateful to them for helping you to avoid Hae Sung.

Once you got to the Shop, you looked at Hyun Ji. She smiled and you two went to get the snacks you wanted.

“Ji, thanks for helping me avoid Hae Sung, I know you probably don’t know why I am avoiding him but I appreciate the help, I just cant talk to him right now. It’s gotten to the point where I’m thinking of blocking his number.” You told Hyun Ji as you guys were paying for your items. Saying thank you to the Ahjumma at the cashier, you started to take the long way back to class. Once you got back to the class, you were shocked to see everyone standing around your desk.

You went there and saw that there was a basket of imported European chocolates on your desk with a note on the basket. You didn’t even have to look to the door, to see Hae Sung waiting there to see your reaction to his apology gift. You took the note and didn’t even read it before ripping it up and throwing it into the bin. You took the basket and started opening it up and looked at Hyun Ji next to you.

“Hey Ji, want some imported chocolates?” you asked her casually, you knew that Hae Sung was still watching from the door and frankly you didn’t care. You wanted Hae Sung to give you time and wait for you to reach out to him, instead of waiting for you, he was trying to bribe you with gifts into forgiving him without actually apologising or even understanding why you were upset with him.

Hyun Ji didn’t say anything but just nodded her head, you took out some chocolate and shared it with her. Then you turned to Soo Ah behind you and offered chocolates to her, you looked at Ju Kyung who was staring at you in shock and offered chocolate to her as well. Then you stood up and went to the back of the class and put the basket on the short cabinets at the back then turned around to everyone staring at you.

“Everyone do not forget to thank Lee Hae Sung for these chocolates, it was nice of him to bring us these chocolates” You made eye contact with Hae Sung as you talked loudly enough for Hae Sung to hear what you were saying. He looked angry, you knew he was thinking of grabbing your arm and drag you out to shout at you, but you did not care in the slightest.

Before the rest of your class could attack the chocolates, you took a few and tapped Seo Jun on his shoulder, he had been napping, while you didn’t want to wake him up, however, this would be the icing on the cake and make Hae Sung even angrier.

He groaned and looked up at you holding chocolates, he blinked rapidly very confused as to why you were holding chocolates in your hands. You smiled at him and held the chocolates out to him, he looked at you and you nodded smiling, encouraging him to take these chocolates.

“Just wanted to thank you for waiting with me for the bus yesterday Seo Jun, also no tutoring today as I’ve got a book club meeting.” Again, you talked loud enough for Hae Sung to hear you and you laughed when you saw that he was going back to his classroom.

No doubt he was going to throw some sort of tantrum or take his anger out on someone in his class. You felt bad about that, you made a mental note to message their class president Eun Hoo and apologise for whatever mess Hae Sung created.

Seo Jun just stared at you, holding out chocolates to him but looking at the door at Hae Sung and then laughing when he stomped away. He didn’t know whether he wanted to take the chocolates or not, while he did dislike Lee Hae Sung, why should he refuse free chocolates. From the reaction Hae Sung just gave. If he saw Seo Jun with those chocolates, he would be even angrier and while that would be funny for him.

Seo Jun didn’t want any of Hae Sung’s anger to affect you. That made him pause, why did he care so much about what would happen to you, it's not like you were friends that he should care. You were just his tutor and someone he wanted to get to know more. He most definitely wasn’t starting to get a crush on you.

No way was that happening. Your relationship with Hae Sung was confusing enough, it was obvious Hae Sung had feelings for you but what you felt for Hae Sung was up in the air and if you even knew that Hae Sung had feelings for you.

Why was he even thinking about this, he had been through enough with Ju Kyung, he didn’t want to like anyone especially not the person who was tutoring him.

“Yah, Han Seo Jun take these chocolates will you, my arm is starting to hurt” you complained when Seo Jun still hadn’t taken the chocolates from your hands. This seemed to jolt Seo Jun from whatever trance he was in and he quickly took the chocolates. You smiled brightly at him and went back to your seat.

“You know, YN that scene of you giving chocolates to Seo Jun felt like it was out of a drama. The girl confessing to the guy with chocolates. Argh so cute, I am here for this ship” Soo Ah said excitedly. You looked down embarrassed before shaking your head and looked down to avoid anyone seeing your blushing cheeks. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough.

“Aww, Seo Jun look she’s blushing now; yah I think we’ve got a new couple emerging in our class,” Tae Hoon said sounding just as excited if not more excited than Soo Ah at the prospect of another couple in your class. Seo Jun looked at you getting embarrassed, not lifting your head as other people started to tease you and felt anger. He didn’t understand why he was angry at Tae Hoon embarrassing you like this, but he was, and he had to do something about it.

“Aish, Yoo Tae Hoon shut that stupid mouth of yours before I punch you” Seo Jun snarled angrily at Tae Hoon who immediately stopped teasing you and went back to his desk, miming a zipper closing his mouth. Seeing that reaction everyone else that had been teasing you stopped as well.

You heard what happened and felt immensely grateful for Seo Jun getting everyone to be quiet. You wanted to thank him but didn’t want to stir up rumours so with your head still on your desk you texted Ju Kyung and asked her for Seo Jun’s number. Thankfully, she saw your message immediately and sent his number without even asking why you wanted it.

To Seo Jun:

Thanks for that, u didnt have to do that, but I appreciate it Seo Jun. Sorry about what happened tho, I shouldnt have given the chocolates to u now, if I knew it would’ve started this, I would’ve given them to Cho Rong or Ju Kyung to pass on to you instead. Oh, and Ju Kyung gave me ur number.

Almost immediately you felt your phone buzz and saw youd gotten a reply from Seo Jun.

From Seo Jun:

Watver Nerd, culdve asked for my number yesterday ya know but yeah ur welcome i guess, someone had to shut up these idiots. im happy u gave the chocolates to me, thnx for them bonus was seeing that bastard walking off in anger.

You laughed silently at Seo Jun calling Hae Sung a bastard, although your automatic reaction was to defend Hae Sung, you refrained from doing that and replied.

To Seo Jun:

Yh yh, I forgot sue me for being forgetful Han Seo Jun, I hope you enjoy the chocolates tho, their the expensive type so share them with ur mum and sister.

You knew he would share with his family, but just wanted to remind him, these chocolates were the type that you would finish without even realising it.

From Seo Jun:

Yah, wat do u take me for, ofcourse im sharing w/ my sis n mum, dw abt it, with the way these vultures attacked ill even save some for u.

Honestly who knew Seo Jun could be such a sweetheart over texts, this was a side of Han Seo Jun you never thought you would see.

To Seo Jun:

Aww, thnx for saving some for me too Seo Jun, you don’t have too but im not gonna say no to chocolates.

You smiled as you felt you phone vibrate with a response, Seo Jun was a quick responder, you didn’t think youd be texting with Seo Jun or even get his number but look you having a proper text conversation with him. Such a contrast to last week when you were afraid of him and now not only were you tutoring him but he was slowly becoming your friend.

From Seo Jun:

Understood, if I ever get u mad at me, imma get chocolates to get u to forgive me.

You giggled at his reply to your message and started to type a response. When you felt someone poke you, you looked to Hyun Ji and saw that Han Ssaem was entering the class. You locked your phone without replying and sat up straight ready for the next lesson.

Chapter 5

[enhyupn]

paring: jake x gender neutral reader

disclaimer: this isn’t proof read so there might be som mistakes here and there :[

word count: 2.3k+

genre: fluff, just pure fluff + crack!?!? reader and jake are insanely oblivious

a/n i kinda realised this was centred around jungwon and sunoo messing around but! there is kinda some romance… anyways i wrote this on my other account and and this is pretty bad since i feel like the ending is rushed too T___T

yang jungwon and kim sunoo were taught to never, big emphasis on never, meddle in things that weren’t their business. however, it’s safe to say that the two threw away that lesson for something they found more important. and that was y/n and jake sim, their loving but yet so so oblivious friends. at the start, the blushing and giggling at each other’s terrible jokes were tease-worthy, maybe even cute? but now, it’s so unbearable and exhausting that even their homeroom teacher can’t even understand why they aren’t dating.

that’s why the two friends devised a plan, actually multiple plans. plan a, for when things will go smoothly. plan b, for when there’s a tiny bump in the road. plan c, for everything above have failed. three plans filled with clichés to get their friends to finally ask each other out, what could go wrong?

i. PLAN A

the plan was simple, a (fake) love confession placed inside the locker of an unsuspecting y/n. the contents of the letter were laughable, the pair having a good time trying to make jake sound childish and silly in his love letter.

“you’re making him look like a seven year old jungwon” sunoo told him in between laughs. “why did you draw this in crayon? you and i both know jake’s a muji pen user”. the two were standing right in front of y/n’s locker, both keeping an eye out to see if one of the two oblivious idiots were passing by.

“it’s all i had on me!” jungwon cried out as he eyed the end of the hallway, ‘okay hurry! the coast is clear no sign of dumb and dumber’.

sunoo, not really trusting jungwon’s eyes, takes a good look of their surroundings. he made sure to look out for sunghoon too as he tells jake everything, and that means everything. the boy will never forget about the time jake had teased him for telling a cashier to ‘keep the change’ when he still owed them thirty more cents, something only sunghoon was present for.

“okay” sunoo carefully slid in the love letter into the thin opening of y/n’s locker. “it’s in, hurry and hide! i swear their class ends in- ”.

“hurry!” the sound of the bell causing the two to run off in opposite directions, their hiding places letting them get a good view of the show they (technically) directed. the pair watched as y/n left their classroom, unsurprisingly with jake following closely behind them. the sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces? the heart eyes? the giggling at every single word being said? they were in love, but the two fools were so oblivious to it.

eyes followed them as y/n headed to their locker, sunoo and jungwon couldn’t understand why they were sweating so much. was that a sign that their plan wouldn’t work? nah, it was bound to work. only someone incredibly stupid would not see the huge letter right in front of them-

“ready?” jungwon overheard jake speak. jungwon knew that sunoo was just as confused as he was. did they not see the love letter? it was so big and stupid looking that they couldn’t have missed it. maybe he shouldn’t of doubted the two, maybe they were as incredibly stupid as he had doubted them to be.

“yup!” y/n said cheerfully. sunoo could feel his forehead wrinkle in annoyance when he realised the two didn’t even acknowledge the letter, in that very moment he knew he had to make the next step.

“y/n! jake!” the boy walked up to the pair, jungwon’s eyes widened when he realised his partner left his hiding place, what is he doing? he watched as sunoo glanced over at him with a look that basically said ‘leave this to me!’.

“sunoo!” jake greeted him warmly, “i thought you had algebra now?”

“nope! i have a free period right now”

“oh, then why are you here?” jake sounded and felt confused, sunoo never visited him during free period unless he wanted something or he needed something. “i don’t have five dollars by the way”.

“i don’t need money! it’s kinda harsh that you think of me like that jake” sunoo pouted through his words. “i just wanted to say that i’m inviting everyone to my house tonight! since it’s a friday and we haven’t all seen each other in a while”.

“oh! that sounds fun” y/n replied with a cheery smile, “i’ll be there, well jake and i”. sunoo couldn’t help but notice the growing blush on the boy’s face at the sound of his name, gross.

“great, see you two tonight”

sunoo smirked as he waved the two off as they headed towards their next class. not forgetting jungwon, he signalled the boy towards him to tell him the rundown of what had just happened.

“so plan a was thrown away after a mere three minutes?” jungwon looked at sunoo confused.

“stop thinking it failed!” he rolled his eyes, “it didn’t! it just, helped us get on the next step”.

“so basically plan b is a go?”

“plan b is a go”.

ii. PLAN B

what could get more cliché than a movie night date? a scary movie night date. sunoo and jungwon both knew that this was the plan that was going to start the blossoming relationship of jake and y/n. the plan was simple, jake and y/n will obviously be sitting together and when a jump scare shows up, y/n will jump into his arms! sunoo bets that they’ll look at each other in the eyes and confess their feelings right then and there. jungwon bets the opposite, he thinks that they’ll awkwardly pull apart from each other, the rest of the night they won’t stop think about each other and when they walk home together that’s when they’ll simultaneously confess to each other!

“y/n! sit beside me!” a voice across the room caught the attention of the two boys. they knew for a fact it wasn’t the voice of jake, meaning it could be the only other person glued onto the other hip of y/n.

“ riki!” y/n flashed another smile, “of course”. the two boys watched as they left jake’s side to sit in the empty space beside the fifteen year old.

“what do we do now…” jungwon whisper shouted in sunoo’s ear. the boy flinched at the loud noise before swatting the boy away. the pair could tell that this plan wouldn’t work as well as they thought, maybe it was the dependance they had on clichés? maybe it was that the two were unpredictable at times? they didn’t know, all they knew was that they wanted all the credit for the (almost) new couple.

“don’t worry my good friend, i have the perfect plan” sunoo’s annoyed expression morphed into a smirk.

“you said that last time! now riki’s the one that’s gonna be in y/n’s arms during scary jump scares while jake is sitting crisscross applesauce right in front of them!” jungwon’s frowned, “if anything let me handle it”.

“do whatever you want but i’ll- ”

“riki!” a sudden voice in the room causes the bickering boys to turn their heads, “don’t you need help with your world history homework? you asked me if i could help you while they watch their movie”.

“i did?” riki replied in a rather confused voice.

“yes, you did” heeseung said through gritted teeth. the group of boys watched as the oldest lightly dragged the youngest into sunoo’s kitchen. y/n watched in concern, not knowing if they should help riki or scold heeseung for being so uptight during a movie night.

“can i sit here?” jungwon and sunoo squinted when they realised jake was asking the question. the two didn’t know why they felt butterflies over the simple question.

“sure!” another one of y/n’s signature smiles blinding the boy in front of them. “i mean now that riki’s been taken away! wait no- i didn’t mean it like that. obviously i want you to sit beside me- ”

“y/n it’s okay” y/n’s embarrassingly long spew sending a second hand embarrassment shiver down the two boy’s body. jake laughs quietly as he place’s himself down beside them, a growing blush placed on their ears and cheeks.

“do they both not realise the whole room is watching them?” jungwon whispered into sunoo’s ear. sunoo looked around and it was true, the scary movie was quickly replaced by the bashful (almost) couple.

“what are you two doing?” sunghoon joined their conversation. the boys jumped in surprise, not expecting him to even talk to them. everyone knew that sunghoon took movie night seriously, he would watch the movie without making a comment unlike his talkative friends and finish his night up researching the movie’s end and plot.

“talking about the movie obviously!” sunoo smiled innocently.

‘“liar” jay whispered, “we all know your little scheme, you never invite us over”.

“hey” jungwon whisper shouted at the group of boys surrounding him, interfering so the two wouldn’t start bickering. “wouldn’t jake and y/n get suspicious over the fact we are grouped together in the corner of the couch whispering to each other?”.

“dumb and dumber wouldn’t even notice if we threw a rock at their heads right now” the group glanced over at the pair, their stiff positions and the small i’m-in-love smiles plastered on their faces were enough proof that the two were in la la land.

“you guys meddled too?” jungwon tilted his head in confusion.

“why did you think riki was so confused when heeseung said he’d help him with world history?” sunghoon sighed, “he doesn’t even do world history!”.

“you could of told a better lie” sunoo rolled his eyes, ‘jungwon and i had an amazing plan- ”.

“but heeseung! i don’t even do world history, why do i need help with homework?” sunoo couldn’t understand why he kept getting interrupted.

“i guess it would of been smarter to let riki into our plan” jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“riki, i’ll explain! now get back in the kitchen, don’t you want to know who anne frank is?” riki and heeseung entered the room, heeseung with a frantic look on his face while riki looked annoyed.

“i know who anne frank is!” riki frowned, “you weren’t even asking me about world history anyways! you kept asking me about our dance club, the one we are both in”.

“i’ll talk about world history now! um, world war one?”

“wait” riki squinted his eyes at the jake and y/n, who were sitting rather close. ignoring the oldest’s question, he walked closer to the pair.

“what is he doing…” jungwon whispered.

“are you two dating?” the sudden question from the youngest’s mouth caused y/n to flinch in their seat.

“oh my god” sunoo blurted out.

“did he just start plan c without even knowing what plan c was?”.

iii. PLAN C

plan c, or what the two boys would like to call it, plan confirmation. the final plan if all things went wrong, in all honesty nothing in plan b went wrong. however the curiosity of nishimura riki quickened the pace up. the contents of the plan were simple, straight up asking the pair if they were dating. it was a simple but not so romantic way to start dating, and that was the main reason it was the ‘if all else fails’ plan.

“no” the group of boys didn’t know that one word could shock them, i mean they saw it coming due to the fact they were completely oblivious but they didn’t know it would shake them up this much.

“no it’s okay you can tell them y/n” jake’s words only shocked the boys even more, their eyes widening in surprise to hear the almost confirmation of their relationship.

“what do you mean? you said the letter in my locker wasn’t from you?”

“it doesn’t mean i don’t don’t like you?” jake said confidently.

“wait…” jungwon stared at the two, “you found our letter?”.

“jungwon! you weren’t supposed to say it out loud” sunoo scolded him through gritted teeth.

“shut up” jay whispered in their ears, “something’s gonna happen i can feel it”.

everyone could notice the red tinge on jake’s ears. they watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while y/n stared at him in utter confusion.

“i like you, y/n” the blushing boy said quietly but just loud enough that they could hear it. “i swear i was going to confess in a better way but i’m kinda under pressure right now…”

“oh?” y/n tilted their head to the side, “i thought you rejected me?”

“i did?” jake looked as confused as everyone else in the room.

“you told me on new year’s eve to wait and i thought that was you letting me down easy”.

“you did?” the bewildered look in jake’s eyes confused y/n even more.

“that’s why you left early?”

“i feel like they needed to speak about this a while ago” sunoo whispered into jungwon’s ear.

“it doesn’t matter now! what matters is that i like you too” y/n smiled happily.

“oh” jake let out in surprise.

“this is way more sickly than i thought this moment was gonna be” jay mumbled bitterly.

“so you two are dating?” riki asked, not really processing what had just happened.

“are we?” jake turned to y/n.

“yes”

maybe the plans a to c did work? i mean if it wasn’t for the help of the meddling jungwon and sunoo did, the almost couple turned into a real couple. the pair in all honesty really didn’t care that much, they were just happy they got the real thing they wanted.

the satisfaction knowing that they were the ones that played wingmen.

“thanks riki, i couldn’t of done it without you” jake smiled at the youngest.

or maybe, this was gonna be a long night.

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call

OK so here we are with the penultimate part! BIG MASSIVE THANK YOU to the absolute loves of my life @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​ and @fratboytj​ for helping me write this because I am a dumpster fire of a human and this would still be unfinished had it not been for them 💛💛💛

Hope you like it!

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

---------

“This right here is our issue!” 

“I don’t care. You need to leave.”

---------------

You and Evelina were leaving for Los Angeles the next day, the presentation not quite done yet as your boss bombarded both of you with texts asking for updates while you were just trying to relax at home after what had been a stressful week of work. The two of you had turned into gremlins as soon as you came home, hair tied back, sweatshirts on, hoods up, facing each other while sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, typing faster than you probably needed to every time your boss sent a new suggestion. 

“Does he really think adding in a transition between these two slides is going to do anything? Like, there are no other animations in the entire presentation, why these two slides?” you huff, pushing the fly-away hair out of your face as you look to Evelina, hunched over her laptop with her computer screen illuminating her face.

Your phones continue buzzing as you try to put the finishing touches on your laptops. “Whatever this man is smoking, I need some to deal with him,” Evelina mutters. You look up from your computer, questioning the statement that just came out of her mouth. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t, too.”

“I’m texting him and telling him we’re going to stop for the night and talk with him in person about it tomorrow at the airport and on plane,” you tell her, setting your computer down next to you. You lay down on the floor, stretching your body out with your hands over your head, your toes pointed, groaning so loud you practically scream as your phone lays silently next to you. 

“Have you heard from Matthew?” Evelina asks, breaking the silence that was normally broken by texts from him. 

You shake your head, sitting up again. “Not a word.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes as you pick up your laptop again. “Nope. Nothing posted on our stories on Instagram or Snapchat in a week, no texts, no calls, no Facetimes, our streak gone on Snap. We’re both radio silent,” you start, trying to fight back the tears that you knew were coming. This was for the best, maybe. You didn’t need to be preoccupied with the idea of liking someone that was just going to hurt you. He was only meant to be your friend. Your best friend. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” she says, turning her head. A small piece of paper under your couch catches her eye, stretching to see what it was. “What is this? ‘For Ev and Hg’ Who’s Hg?”

“I think that’s me,” you say, reaching for the card, Matthew’s messy writing scrawled across the small paper. It must have fallen off the box that had the jerseys in it, you figure. 

“That’s not right,” she says, pulling a laugh from you.

“Matthew calls me that: Hg is the chemical symbol for mercury, coming from hydrargyrum, the Latinized form of the Greek word hydrargyros, which means water-silver. Mercury stops oxygen from reaching the brain and it drives you crazy. He’s saying that I drive him crazy,” you explain, a sad smile on your face as you play with the card, curling the corners of it slightly just so you had something to do.

“That is surprisingly smart and cute for him,” Evelina gushes, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her. “I think this is my fault,” she admits.

“What?”

“Matthew not talking to you. Matthew knowing about the list.” You stare at her, not sure what to say. What was she talking about? “I told him about it the night you started it.”

“What the fuck?” you scream, “That’s the reason we had this whole fight in the first place. That’s why we aren’t talking right now. Ev, you ruined my friendship with Matthew!” 

“You’ll get through it,” she tries to reassure you, unable to look at you. “Couples fight all the time.” 

“We were not a couple!” you yell, standing up. “And now, because of you, we never will be.” 

“Is that what you wanted?” she yells back, getting up with you as if you were about to start physically fighting. “Do you want to be a couple? Or do you just want him to be your friend? I don’t care anymore, but until you figure out what the fuck you want, you can’t fix this.”

You look down at your feet, wiggling your toes in the socks you had on. “You’re right,” you admit to her, trying to stay as calm as you could. “But why did you have to tell him about that list? What do you think it’s like to find out that someone you care about has been keeping something like this from you?” You stand there quietly for a minute, neither of you sure what to say to the other. “I’m going to go to my room,” you say, finally breaking the silence, “Just, don’t bother me for a little bit, ok?” You don’t let her answer, picking up your computer from the floor and retreating to your room to lock yourself in for the time being. 

Evelina sits down on the floor, trying to figure out what she can do. This was her fault. Or was it yours? She had suggested the list, but you were the one who went along with it. She made the bet, but you wouldn’t drop it. She wanted you to be with Matthew, but you have been fighting it no matter what everyone else tells you. 

She shakes her head, picking up her computer, a reminder from her calendar coming up in the top corner: Flames @ Kings, 7:00 p.m. Friday. Staples Center. With all this bullshit, would you even still want to go to the game? Evelina pulls up her phone, hearing loud music coming from your room, thankful that you wouldn’t be able to hear her conversation. 

“I can see on her Spotify that she’s playing the playlist we entitled “depressed bitch” when she broke up with her last boyfriend and I can’t stand to see her like this. Why did you have to bring up the list?” Evelina barks into her phone.

“Why did you have to have Y/N start the list in the first place?” Matthew’s voice comes through on the other end. “With no list, then we wouldn’t be in this fucked up mess in the first place. You’re the reason I’m not talking to her.” 

She knew he was taking his anger out on her. And he’s right, as much as she hated to admit it. “I know it’s my fault,” she says, begrudgingly, “which is why I’m trying to fix this. She cried for five hours after you left last week. She did not sleep for two days and I think the only reason she did was because our boss is an exhausting jackass. It’s because of you and me, and she’s made her peace with me as far as I can tell. I need you back in the picture.”

“Why?”

“Matthew,” Evelina groans, hating that she had to explain her reasoning to him, “you’re good for her. You’re good to her. You listen to her. You hear her. From the moment you met her, you were absolutely infatuated with her.”

“Yeah.”

“So why haven’t you talked to her in a week?”   

She hears him let out a deep sigh, swearing she could hear him sniffle as if he were crying. “Because I’m in love with her. I love Y/N. And I know that the more I try to pull her back to me, the harder she’s going to push away.” 

“Why do you love her?” Evelina asks, grabbing her computer, an idea popping into her head as she balances her phone between her shoulder and her ear, pulling up a blank document. 

He scoffs, starting, “Her way of relaxing herself is by ranting about obscure facts that no sane person would actually care enough to read, let alone commit to memory. And she absolutely lights up when she tells you this stuff. She has this, this soft smile that still somehow reaches her eyes when she’s talking. At the end of her rant she makes that face where she scrunches her nose because she thinks it’s embarrassing that she just spewed all those facts to you.” 

“Keep going,” Evelina instructs him, her fingers flying over her keyboard as he talks.

“Are you typing?” 

“I’m working on...work. Keep going, I’m listening,” she says fast, hoping that he wouldn’t question her.

“I like how she dresses, and I know you think she doesn’t have good style but hear me out: she dresses how she’s comfortable. She doesn’t dress up often because it’s not something she wants to do so it’s not something she does do. But, fuck, when I see her dressed up in the slightest, she looks beautiful. She looks great in anything she wears.” 

Evelina couldn’t help but smile as she continued to type, not even needing to egg Matthew on to keep spilling his guts to her, his voice getting more confident with everything he listed. “Have you ever noticed how she doesn’t hold a pen correctly? What was it, her grandmother taught her to write outside of school so when she went to school and already knew her teachers saw that so they didn’t focus on her and catch that she was holding it wrong? So now she’s constantly playing with it to distract herself from that fact, which makes no sense, but whatever. And she has ink all over her hands all the time because she keeps twirling it between her fingers and dropping it.”

“She’ll joke that it’s ‘abstract art.’” Evelina cuts in, both of them laughing.

“Come on, even you love that. She’s so stubborn. Once she gets any idea in her head, she won’t give it up because she knows she’s right. It drives me crazy.”

“Mercury,” Evelina mutters. 

“What was that?”

“We found the card that you wrote with the jerseys,” she explains, peeling her shoulder away from her face and holding the phone with her hand for a moment, “You call her Mercury because she drives you crazy.” 

Matthew stays silent for a moment, forgetting that you were supposed to see him in Los Angeles against the Kings that Friday. “Are you still coming to that?” 

“You mean is she still coming with me?” He doesn’t answer again, leaving Evelina to fill the empty space in the conversation. “I’m going to try to get her there. I want her there. And I know she wants to be there, too.” 

“I remember the night we met,” Matthew says, changing subjects, not wanting to think about the possibility of not seeing you at that game, “it was just a normal night out with the guys and then two girls who we hadn’t seen before walked in. And normally we wouldn’t think anything of it, but,” he exhales, “I don’t know. The entire energy of the bar changed. All of us felt it. And then the two of you walked up to us. You were fucking annoying,” he jokes, earning a scoff from Evelina.

“Watch yourself Tkachuk, don’t make me mad right now.”

Rolling his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see him, he continues, “The guys loved you immediately, it was like you had known them for years the way you fit in. But then there was Y/N. She’s your exact opposite: you were this loud force of nature but she was quiet. There was just something about her that I had to get to know her. I knew she was different around people she’s comfortable with and I just had to be one of those people. Couldn’t even tell you why.”

Matthew keeps talking, Evelina typing as he keeps telling her about his feelings. In a lull in your music, you can hear her laugh from your room, thinking to yourself that you were glad at least one of you was having fun with whatever it was they were doing. You finally sit up, having been sprawled on your back on your bed staring at your ceiling trying to think of something, anything that wasn’t Matthew. You look around your room, trying to ground yourself from the pain you felt from not hearing from him, not wanting to reach out to him to begin with. You see your computer on your dresser, forgetting that you put it there once you got to your room, getting up to put something on from Hulu. 

Out of the corner of your eye, in the reflection of your mirror, you see a black sleeve sticking out from the rest of the clothing that was hanging on the back of your door. You put your computer on your desk, flipping through the clothing to see what it was. You pull it off whatever hanger it was on, a wool winter pea coat, definitely not yours. 

Because it was Matthew’s. When you first met him, you were so comfortable around each other. You could go over his place with ease, not feeling awkward when you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie, feeling completely normal when you woke up the next morning and used his bathroom as if it were your own, eventually keeping some stuff there for when you did stay over, no matter how little use it served you the night after the charity event. 

He was the same at your place. He has stuff around your room everywhere, you never really blinking an eye at the pair of his sweatpants and the tshirt that were somewhere in your drawers for when he slept over. Not even a year ago, he left in the sweatshirt, the coat he wore the night before left on the couch without you realizing it, making its home on the back of your door only to get shuffled right up against the wood as you hung more and more clothing in front of it. 

You walk over to your bed, not taking your eyes off the coat. You sit down on your bed, hearing some sort of jingling sound from somewhere in the coat. Digging through the pockets, you can feel something metal in the front right one, a piece of paper poorly folded around it. Should you be going through the pockets of someone else's coat? 

Who cared at this point? You take out the contents of the pocket: a key and a receipt. Your heart was racing, having a feeling about what both of these things meant. The receipt was dated the night you went out to the bar when you moved to Calgary, the night you met Matthew and the rest of the boys. Matthew’s name was on the bottom signaling that it was his, a few drinks circled by who you assumed was him. 

Those were the drinks he bought for you that night, the drinks he would always ask you if you wanted befor you could get a word in first, ‘vodka sour = lemon,’ and something else you couldn’t quite make out written on the side. The next time you were out with them, a vodka sour was the drink he bought you because you told him you liked lemon but hadn’t found a drink that you liked with it in it. That was the drink he bought you the night of the charity event. 

On the back of the receipt, again in Matthew’s handwriting, ‘my home is your home, Y/N.’ In your hand was a key, with a lemon charm hanging off of it. 

It was a key to his apartment. 

You couldn’t begin to fathom the emotions that washed over you in that moment, knowing that he was going to give you his key, probably before you even thought of giving him one for your place. Fuck, you didn’t even give him one, Evelina did. You didn’t even think about it, and there he was, a key for you, planned out, thoughtful, meaningful. You felt like crying because of sweet it was. 

You pick up your phone, pulling up Matthew’s contact to call him. Your finger hovers over the button. All you had to do was press the button, and you would talk to him for the first time in a week. Before you can tell yourself no, you hit the button, a picture of the two of you coming up on your screen, ‘Matthew, calling,’ rolling over your phone in bold white text.

You didn’t even know what you were going to say, holding the phone to your ear. Actually, you knew what you wanted to say, hearing the phone ring, and ring, and ring. It wouldn’t stop ringing. 

It was a sign. One that you shouldn’t be calling him, hanging up immediately and blocking his number so that he can’t try to call you back. If you were meant to be with him, then he would have answered when you wanted to talk to him most. He would have called you first.

Every emotion you felt turned into anger. You wanted him to call you. You wanted him to be there for you, because if this were happening with another guy, Matthew would be the one sitting there on the bed with you talking you down when this hypothetical man didn’t answer. 

“Mother fucker!” you scream, throwing the key against your door, letting it drop to the ground, wishing it was smashed. 

Evelina hears you, hoping that the conversation with Matthew would end soon so that she can go check on you when he says, “What about how she’s always so quick with her chirps? I have never met someone who’s so fast with a comeback. She’s better than any guy in the NHL. Better than anyone,” Matthew says, still on the phone with Evelina, his voice getting quiet. “Better than anyone,” he repeats himself. 

“I’ve known Y/N’s last two boyfriends and between her and Thomas recounting the high school boyfriend, I feel like I knew the third,” she says, partially regretting bringing up Thomas’s name, “You really love her?” 

“Haven’t I said that already?” he snaps.

“Yes, but I want you to say it again. She is my best friend and has had plenty of people say that they are in love with her. You’re the first one she’s been in love with back, though.”

Matthew’s breath hitches at those words. If Evelina was saying it about you, then it had to be true he figured. “Of course I do.” 

“Ok,” is all Evelina can say, leaving the two of them in silence for a few seconds. 

“Uh, bye, I guess,” Matthew says, hoping the awkward silence that fell between them would end. 

“I’ll text you later about something. Bye,” Evelina hangs up the phone, letting out a long sigh before getting off the floor. Wandering to your room, she knocks on your door, waiting for any sign of life from you to tell her she could come in. “What is this?” she asks after stepping on the key, handing it back to you, plopping herself down on your bed.. 

“Matthew was going to give me a key to his apartment,” you tell her, waving it around in the air. 

“When?” You shrug, honestly not sure how long ago the coat was left there, not sure how long it had been in his pocket in the first place. “I need to ask you something,” she says.

Not really paying attention, that stupid key in your hand, you answer her anyway, “What?”

“Do you like him?”

“Him who?”

Evelina rolls her eyes at you, telling you who even though she really didn’t need to. “Matthew.” 

“Of course I do. He’s my best friend besides you.” 

“Do you love him?” 

“Why hasn’t he called?” you ask, quietly, her instead.

Evelina sighs, “He probably wants to give you space,” she tells you, even though she knows the real answer. “He just wants you to go to him when you’re ready. You know he would never push you to do something you don’t want to.” 

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. Would Matthew want you to reach out first? If he did, why didn’t he answer the phone just now?  “Y/N,” Evelina presses, you knowing that she wanted you to respond to the question you intentionally left unanswered. 

You pick up the receipt that was beside you, the key still in your hand, wondering how he could have thought yo give you the key before you even thought about it yourself. And why did he never give it to you? “Ev. I said no. He’s just like Thomas. He loves me and I don’t feel the same way, and I’ve lost him just like I lost Thomas,” you insist. 

“You didn’t lose him,” she tries to reassure you. “This is going to work out.”

“How do you know that, Ev? He means everything to me. You and him are the two people outside of my family that I care the most about. What does it say about our friendship that we get into some stupid fight and now we don’t talk for a week?”

“Y/N,” she lets out a small laugh, “He loves you.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard as you turn the key over in your hand for what felt like the thousandth time. “If he did he would be here right now. He would have called, he would have done something to show me that he cared about me.” 

“Y/N,” she tries.

“No, Ev. Can we just drop it?” you beg, reaching over to your nightstand and throwing the key and receipt in the drawer. “We have to work on our presentation, we leave tomorrow, and we still need to finish packing.” 

The rest of the night was spent by the two of you not saying more than monosyllabic sentences to each other while you worked on the finishing touches of your presentation, packing the last of what you needed for the trip and triing to get your mind off Matthew. You zip your bag up, satisfied that you were finished when you see the jersey Matthew gave you sitting there on your floor, in a pile of other clothing you meant to put away. 

You pick it up, like you did the jacket that was now sitting on the couch, a note laying on top of it for Evelina to give it back to Matthew. Sighing, you fold up the jersey, leaving your room to go put it with the coat. You didn’t want it. You had no need for it. All you could do was let it go. 

You couldn’t sleep the night, any time you closed your eyes and managed to doze off, Matthew’s image flashed through your mind. Every single memory you had with him seemed to be manifesting themselves in your dreams, unable to shake him no matter what you did.The nights you spent together on the couch watching whatever was on TV, teaching him to make your favorite cookies, even though he burned them to a crisp no matter how many times he would check the oven, the two of you going Christmas shopping for your families, buying each other the dumbest gifts you could find to see who you laugh harder. Not a single bad memory came up, besides the last time you saw him. Was everything with Matthew actually that perfect? Or were you blocking things out? 

Your alarm goes off but you were already awake for it, groaning loudly prompting Evelina to come running to your room. “Are you ok?” she asks in a panic. “Babe, did you sleep at all last night?” 

You didn’t even want to know how awful you looked, just hoping that you would be able to cover it up with makeup and get some semblance of sleep while on the plane even if it were only a three hour flight. “Maybe an hour?” you guess, even though you were sure that was an over exaggeration. “Whatever. We have to go get ready.” You get out of your bed and storm to the bathroom, closing the door before Evelina could even say anything. 

You looked like you had been hit by a truck, hating how you came across as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red, the bags underneath them so rich in color they could probably be designer, your skin discolored like you were sick. You would need makeup and a miracle to fix yourself at this point. 

“Y/N?” Evelina says, opening the door without you inviting her in. “I found the coat and jersey.” You make eye contact with her through the mirror, pursing your lips and nodding as you get back to putting on your makeup. “You really don’t want them?” You shake your head, swallowing hard. If you kept them, then they would tempt you to go back to him. Getting rid of them was the only thing you could do. “I put them in my room for now, ok?” You nod again, still not saying a word. 

“I’m worried about you,” Evelina says. “Even with those other guys you’ve broken up with, they have never left you this broken.” 

“I’m over it. I’m just tired.” 

“We both know you’re lying about this. You know how you feel. You know that you’re in love with him, you always have been.”

You put your makeup down on the counter, staring at the powder in it’s container. “I can’t say it.” 

Evelina takes a step back. “What?” she asks, surprised by your response. 

“Thomas said he loved me, and that was it. The friendship was over and we haven’t seen him in years. If I say it to Matthew, if I admit it at all, then it’s going to be done. It already is done and I never said it.” 

Evelina could feel her heart breaking, trying everything she could not to start crying in front of you, worrying that it would set you off as well. “You know that’s not true.” 

“I do in my head, but not in my heart,” you say, letting out a laugh, “That sounds like something from a stupid Hallmark movie.” Evelina lets out a small laugh with you as you continue. “Can we just drop it this weekend? We just have to get through this conference. And get through a weekend with our boss.” 

“Ok. I’m gonna go finish getting ready, then,” Evelina says, backing out of the bathroom. 

By the time both of you are finished getting ready, your boss had texted you that you needed to be outside waiting for him in the next ten minutes when they pulled up with the car that all of you were taking. “Ok, last check. Boarding passes?” you start your list.

“Mine is the front pocket of my bag, yours are in the folder you have with your computer.”

“Passport?”

“Same places as the boarding passes for both of us.”

“Computers?”

“Side pocket of your bag, middle of my bag.”

“Chargers?” 

“Somewhere in my bag I have a phone charger and a computer charger for both of us.” 

You keep going through the long list, both of you knowing where the other kept everything. You freeze when you get to the last thing on the list, written in Evelina’s hand writing instead of your own. “Jerseys.” 

“I have mine. Yours is in my room.” 

“Good,” you say, almost completely forgetting about the game.  You shake your head as if to physically shake the thought of Matthew from your mind. “Got your keys?” you ask Evelina, her waving them in your face as you grab yours, too. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you lug your stuff towards the door, opening it and ready to leave when you see him there. “Matthew?” you say, surprised to see him standing in your doorway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, a guilty expression on his face as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “What are you doing here?” you ask in shock, feeling your heart start to race.

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, debating on stepping into your apartment or not. 

“No. We’re leaving for the airport now, we don’t have time,” you tell him, trying to move past him.

“Come on, we need to talk,” he insists, putting his arm against the frame of your door to stop you from moving past him.

“Why should I listen to you?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Because I love you.”

[writings-of-dumpy]

Everybody Talks: George Weasley Smut

A/N: Yes, here it is--George Weasley smut. 18+ only. Warnings: unprotected sex and language

Summary: Based on the song “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees. George is called a player often, but when Y/N overhears that her boyfriend slept with someone else, he has to make her see that everybody talks, but it doesn’t matter.

Fred and George were always the most sought-after pair in Gryffindor house, and Y/N was not immune to that. She often found herself looking at the boys in her year as she got older, and she couldn’t help but gain a small crush on one Weasley in particular. The twins had subtle differences about them that sometimes Y/N thought only she could pick up on. She could hear her fellow housemates talk about Fred and George as a single unit, which made her slightly uncomfortable knowing that they were different people even though they often weren’t referred to that way.

They had a reputation, too. Y/N could barely go two days without hearing about George’s latest sexcapade from a gushing girl in the Great Hall. She couldn’t lie to herself, it stung slightly. She felt like she was the only one George hadn’t paid mind to even though she paid him plenty of mind. He lived in her thoughts almost always.

As luck would have it, at the beginning of their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, she would be lucky enough to finally have the one she’d been crushing on sit next to her in herbology. Little did she know that George had his eye on her for quite some time now and he had practically begged professor Sprout to assign seats with him next to Y/N.

He had noticed that in the brief interactions, Y/N would always address them correctly. He didn’t know how she could tell them apart when their own mother sometimes couldn’t. He didn’t blame his wonderful mum, they were identical after all. But as for the students and even teachers at Hogwarts, they were almost never right when they approached the twins. Throughout the years, they had just been lumped together as the Weasley Twins. George didn’t resent it, though, he just found it annoying sometimes. He felt bad for feeling bad, though, because he and Fred were often together and shared similar interests. But then, when Y/N called him by his name for the first time, he knew she was different from the rest of the school. They were fifteen at the time, and George had craved her attention ever since. He hadn’t had the wherewithal to go with her to the Yule Ball because he was asked by a girl in Gryffindor who he didn’t know the name of. That was the other thing about George—he didn’t like to disappoint. He was a people pleaser and he didn’t want to make this girl sad because she seemed so incredibly nervous to even ask him that he couldn’t help but say yes to her.

But now, George finally had a chance with Y/N and he didn’t want to mess that up. He sat next to her and smiled at her with a charming look in his eye.

“Hello there, Y/N,” he said. She smiled at him.

“Hi George, good to see you,” she said to him with pink cheeks. The pair became fast friends and George wished he hadn’t waited so long to talk to her. It was clear that they both enjoyed a good joke and had a similar sense of what that consisted of. After herbology, he decided to shoot his shot with her.

“I know we’re not super close friends or anything, but I’d like to invite you to drinks at The Three Broomsticks with me and the rest of the team after the match on Friday?” he asked her with a shy smile. “As my date?”

Y/N blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll meet you after. And I’ll cheer for you, of course.”

George felt satisfied with the answer and he beamed all the way to his next class and throughout the rest of the day. After these past couple years of crushing on her, he finally had the chance to make her his.

Y/N went to the Quidditch match in high spirits. She had heard all week that various girls were asked to the party by George, and she hoped that they were just fictitious because she longed to be the only one George was after. She’d find out soon enough, though, because George had wanted to meet her in the courtyard by the pathway to Hogsmeade after the match. After the match she made her way there and found that she and Hermione were the only ones in that area. She smiled and waved at Y/N politely.

Y/N waved back and smiled. She knew those rumors were false, and she said to herself then that she couldn’t be bothered by the rumors girls spread about George. They waited for about three minutes before Y/N saw a familiar head of ginger hair approach her with a goofy grin on his face.

“Hello, love, are you excited?” he asked, and Y/N’s stomach turned in the most pleasant way possible. She smiled and nodded. George offered his arm to her and she took it with a wide grin. It was nice to walk and talk with George. Y/N asked him about Quidditch rules as she had only attended the matches when her house was playing, and George’s face lit up when he talked about the sport. He made several hand gestures as he explained the game and his role in it as Beater, but his strong arm never let go of her. Y/N hung on his every word and she almost didn’t realize that they were almost to The Three Broomsticks at this point.

“Sounds like you’re an expert on the game, Georgie,” Y/N said with a grin. George’s face flushed at the nickname and he smiled ear to ear.

“Thanks, love. I do enjoy it, so I get a bit carried away,” he explained and reached for the door to open it for her.

“I like it when you get carried away. It’s nice to listen to people talk about the things they’re passionate about,” Y/N said and walked into the pub with a nod of thanks to him. When they were both inside, Y/N scanned the room and found a large table filled with the Gryffindor team and a few others that she didn’t recognize, who she assumed were friends or significant others.

“Hey, everyone,” George greeted. Fred’s eyes went wide in delight upon seeing his brother and Y/N on his arm.

“Well, look who’s finally got a date,” Fred said and took a sip of his butterbeer, and George shot him a look. Y/N smiled and waved to the team.

“Congratulations, guys. It was really fun to watch,” Y/N said to the team and they all smiled at her and raised a glass. George let her sit and he took his place next to her and Y/N felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, which sent butterflies to her middle.

After a few rounds of butterbeer, the table dispersed as the team expressed their exhaustion. George helped Y/N up and she blushed and thanked him. Throughout the night she had felt his thumb gently rubbing the outside of her arm and each time he made the sweet gesture, she felt more confident in being around him and she was sure her cheeks were pink most of the night.

“Did you have fun?” Y/N asked him once they were alone and walking through the corridors towards Y/N’s house common room.

“I enjoyed every minute with you. I hope you feel the same,” George said in a voice smoother and sweeter than honey.

Y/N blushed deeper and nodded. “It was a lovely time.” When they reached her common room entrance, George turned her to him and stood close to her.

“I have a small confession to make, love,” George said in a low voice.

Y/N’s breath was caught in her lungs and her heart pounded. “Oh?”

“I happen to fancy you quite a bit… And if you’d like, I want to take you out more, but just the two of us… exclusively, if you get my drift…” George clarified to Y/N with rosy cheeks and a small smile.

Y/N was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe that he felt that way about her. She smiled and nodded. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”

George nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

Y/N was ecstatic and nodded her head. “I would like that very much. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so you better be a good one, Weasley,” she teased.

George laughed and stepped closer to her with a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of being anything but, Y/L/N.”

The pair laughed and even though they were saying goodbye, neither made the move to do so. Y/N felt George inching closer to her as his hand smoothed over her waist. Y/N’s smile turned to a bitten lower lip as George’s face closed in on hers. She could feel the warmth from his cheeks radiate off of him and on to her.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. Y/N nodded and their lips met with gentle desire. The kiss was more than a peck, but as sweet and simple as one. As it went on, their growing feelings drove them to a more heated moment. George supported her against him, and as the moment got more intense, he pinned her against the wall. When they broke away for air, they looked at each other for a second and laughed in glee at the euphoria they felt, but noticed the portraits giving them judgmental looks.

“Erm… I’ll see you tomorrow?” George offered and backed himself away from Y/N. She nodded and smiled with swollen lips. It was when she entered her common room that George noticed his lips aching and he felt them swell a bit.

As the year went on, George and Y/N became closer and closer and their love blossomed, and all was bliss... or so Y/N thought. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that everybody talked about her and George. Rumors spewed that they had broken up at least once a week, but all of them were crushed when George got wind of them and made a scene of kissing Y/N deeply in the middle of the hallway.

“Mister Weasley, that’s inappropriate,” McGonagall would say and George would wink and smile at Y/N as she headed to class. Y/N would love it when that happened, truly, because it reassured what she already knew to be true: George only had eyes for her.

But one day towards their graduation date, Y/N overheard a Slytherin girl gushing about how she and George had hooked up the night prior. The gaggle of girls around her demanded explicit details, and she provided them. Y/N shot the group a dirty and annoyed look, and the storyteller shrugged and sent back a sickeningly smug look.

Y/N left the room and immediately searched for George. Everybody talks, but not like this. Y/N knew that George had a reputation for being a player, but she had never heard such explicit details. She felt hurt and betrayed, and she didn’t want to believe it.

“Either let me in or send George Weasley out, please,” she said to the Fat Lady.

“Trouble, dear?” the portrait asked in a concerned tone.

“Just… I just need to talk to George,” Y/N said becoming more worried by the second.

“About what, my dear?” George’s voice said from behind Y/N. She turned and his face dropped.

“Come on, let’s go in…” he said and lead her through to the common room. Y/N was lucky that everyone cleared out once the pair walked into the room because the conversation they were about to have was going to be one that Y/N classified in her mind as highly private.

“What happened, my love?” George asked her with concern in his voice and his hands touching her elbows as her arms were crossed. He looked deep into her eyes and Y/N knew she was being foolish. George had never given her any reason to believe he was being unfaithful or that he ever wanted anyone else, but here she was feeling hurt over what she had overheard.

“I feel so stupid, but I just… I feel like I have to hear it from you,” Y/N said. “It’s horrible, I know, and I’m so sorry…”

George furrowed his brows. “What are they saying about me now?”

“That you and Justine hooked up last night. She just had so much detail, it was hard to shut her down… It made me think that maybe it was true, but…” Y/N said and finished her sentence with a shake of her head.

“I never thought I’d see the day when their words would get in the way…” George said in disbelief. Y/N looked at him with worry. George placed a hand on her face and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Are you mad?” Y/N asked.

George shook his head. “No… I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. It just means I have to show you how I really feel about you, dear…”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, but her confusion ceased when George attached his mouth to hers with fervor. He had never kissed her like this before. Y/N’s chest heaved with every breath she took and her heart pounded in her chest. She felt his hands run from her cheek to gripping the back of her head as he kissed her feverishly. His lips dragged along her cheek to give her jaw and ear deep and sometimes wet kisses.

“See them talk after this,” George muttered. His lips latched onto Y/N’s neck and she felt his tongue caress her throat, then the small pain of his teeth latching on and sucking the flesh into his mouth. She gasped aloud and George pulled her closer and bit and sucked harder at her neck. Y/N thought about how purple and red the bruise would be when she looked at it later. For now, though, it felt too good to be true. The words Justine had used to describe George’s love bites were not only inaccurate but not even a shadow of the magnitude of care he took into placing it.

“Only one for me, see?” George whispered into Y/N’s ear once he had been sated with the depth of purple he had made on her neck. Y/N looked at him with starry eyes and George smirked.

“Come on,” he said and gripped her hand. The two left the common room and George purposefully held onto her tightly as he passed boys and girls alike. When they finally reached an empty hallway, a door suddenly appeared on a blank wall to the left of them.

“Hogwarts, you never disappoint,” he said with a grin. He opened the door for a very confused Y/N. She eyed him with suspicion and walked in to find a simple room with a fireplace, a bathroom, and rather large bed with a canopy. The window showed a wonderful view of the Black Lake and Y/N looked and saw students milling about.

“How did you know about this place?” Y/N asked.

“It’s called the Room of Requirement. Fred and I found it a couple years ago and he likes to take girls here, so I figured I’d give it a shot,” George said with a wink.

“So it’s like a shagging room? No offense, but I absolutely do not want to fuck on a bed your brother has done it in,” Y/N said aghast.

George laughed and wrapped his arms around Y/N. “The room makes it different every time, and perfectly tailored to those who need it.”

Y/N felt better about that reassurance and relaxed a bit in his embrace.

“Now where were we, my love?” George said with a devilish smirk and pulled Y/N closer to the point where she could feel his crotch growing and hardening. She blushed and licked her lips before initiating a deep and passionate kiss. He once more pressed her against the wall in a frantic kiss and she quieted a moan.

“No need for that, my dear. Nobody can hear you in here. But I can and I want to hear you,” George whispered in her ear and sent a chill down her spine. Y/N felt his hands move to her hips and his fingers danced their way to the skin under her shirt. She pressed her hips against him as a signal to continue his movements and George let his hands dance up her shirt. His long and slender fingers made quick work of removing her torso of the clothes she wore. Y/N blushed a deep red and made her way to kiss him more to avoid his lustful gaze, but he moved too quickly for her and attached his lips to her breast. He made quick work of marking the area with his teeth and lips.

Y/N felt vulnerable and tugged at his shirt to take it off to even the odds. George caught the hint and completely removed the garment and tossed it aside next to where Y/N’s had landed. George blushed and pulled her towards the bed, where their mouths found each other once more and he sat her on the bed while he remained standing to remove his trousers and briefs. Y/N felt his lips leave hers as he struggled with shaky hands to undo the buckle of his belt. Y/N smiled then got to her knees and helped him remove the constricting fabric. He freed his penis from the tight hold of his briefs and Y/N licked her lips. George helped her to her feet and laid her back on the soft bed. He removed her panties and crawled over her with a hungry look in his eyes. His pupils were blown and his mouth hung agape as he visually drank her in. Y/N felt insecure under his gaze and felt her body couldn’t compare to the greatness his possessed. He wasn’t all muscle, but he was built well with an athlete’s muscles. She made an attempt to shy away from him, but he locked their fingers together above her head and her eyes were met with his.

“You never have to hide from me. I love all of you. Every single piece,” he declared to her. She smiled and kissed his lips sweetly.

George was nothing but generous in bed. Y/N wasn’t sure how much experience he had, but it didn’t matter because his movements made it clear to her that she was his and he was hers, completely and absolutely. He moved within her with purpose and each time Y/N moaned, he repeated the movement until he could get her to feeling that way once more.

“Feeling good, love?” he asked frequently in a low voice. Y/N would sometimes nod, but sometimes all she could answer with was a moan of pleasure. George grinned when she displayed such pliancy and responsiveness to his touch. Y/N did her best to help him feel good, too and moved her hips along with his. He threw his head back and let out a moan that had they not been in an invisible and sound-proof room, the entire tower would have heard. Y/N trembled at the sound he emitted and let out a small whimper as her climax neared.

“George, please,” she moaned. George smiled at her with love in his eyes. He kissed her lips deeply and quickened his pace within her and buried his head in the crook of her neck.

“Y/N, please… Love, I’m…” he moaned in her ear.

After several moments of bliss, and the only sounds that Y/N could hear were George’s confessions of love and praises in her ear that she echoed into his, she felt George still and tense as she concluded he had finished. Y/N smiled and blushed that she could bring him to completion like that. He sat up and pulled out of her with a questioning look.

“Did you..?” he asked. Y/N bit her lip and averted her gaze while trying to avoid the question. “That won’t do at all.”

Before Y/N could protest, his fingers made quick work of finding her clitoris and Y/N jumped in surprise. He rubbed slow circles at first, then as Y/N became more worked up, he sped up his pace and soon Y/N was becoming undone in front of him. She felt herself writhe uncontrollably and cry out his name as she was washed in pleasure. George held her through it and smiled sweetly down at her. He kissed her gently along her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, and landed on her lips.

“Let them talk, but you needed to know that you’re the only one for me,” George said to Y/N, who smiled and laughed.

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.4 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: As Josh and Y/N get closer, so does her relationship with Peter but when Peter’s health is on the line, it forces them to look at their relationship in a new light. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: It’s literally 5 in the morning wow my sleep schedule is fucked up! Thank you for being patient and thanks for the feedback on how you guys view the idea of Y/N in fanfiction in general! Also let me know if you guys like it, it really helps to know you guys actually like my stuff!

Warnings: mild language,  mentions of pain

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue

Once you were in Anatomy class, you dropped your head down onto the table and closed your eyes. You had spent all of last night studying for a math test and by the time you felt like you had everything down, it was already time to leave for school. 

You didn’t know how you were going to make it through the day, especially since you were the type of person to be grumpy without a full eight hours of sleep. 

“ Do my eyes deceive me or is Y/N sleeping in class?” Josh’s voice whispered from behind you as you straightened your back and turned around to face him,” I didn’t realize you were such a rebel.” 

“ Josh is actually on time for class? I didn’t realize you were such a goodie-two-shoes,” You teased back as Josh smirked. 

“ What can I say, I was extra motivated to show up to class today,” Josh said as he smiled wide at you. 

You turned back around to hide how flushed your face was and tried to think about anything else. You weren’t sure how you truly felt about Josh but there was a small part of you that wouldn’t mind if you did have a small crush on him. 

Everyone knew Josh to be a genuinely sweet guy and nobody ever had anything negative to say about him which only made you more attracted to him. Josh was the perfect student and the golden samaritan and it was about time you liked someone who wasn’t a complete asshole.   

Class went on and you were thankful that Josh remained silent as he sat behind you for your own sake.  It wasn’t until the end of class when your teacher introduced a new project that made Josh sit up a bit taller. 

Once your teacher announced that you were able to pick your own partners Josh tapped your shoulder with his pencil and greeted you with a warm smile. 

“ I think the universe is telling us that we should be partners,” Josh suggested as you tried to not act impressed,” would you want to work on this together? It’s cool if you don’t but I just thought since I already have your number, it would be easier.” 

“ You have my number? ” You asked as you tried to remember if you did give it to him but you knew you definitely would’ve. 

Josh pulled out his phone as he furrowed his eyebrows,” Huh, you’re right. Well in that case, gimme your number so I can call you sometime.” 

Damn, he really was smooth. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you took his phone and started to enter your number,” Do you mean you’ll call me about the project?” 

Josh playfully shrugged as you handed back his phone,” Well sure, that too. I actually wanted to ask if you needed a ride to the party on Saturday. I was going to go with my band but there isn’t enough room for all the equipment so we’re taking two cars. It’ll just be me, you, and a few speakers in the car if that’s okay?” 

You didn’t think twice before accepting his offer,” Yeah that sounds great actually, thank you.” 

“ Of course, it’s my pleasure, I’ll pick you up at nine,” Josh smiled as the bell rung,” do you mind if I walk you to class? I don’t want you to sleepwalk on the way there or anything.” 

“ I wouldn’t mind at all,” You said sweetly as the two of you walked out of the classroom side by side. 

                                                           ---------

You took another look at your deck before placing one of your cards face down into the pile. You readjusted your body to lay stomach-down on your bed and eyed Peter suspiciously. 

For the last hour and a half, you and Peter had been playing various card games after he had claimed to be better than you and since you both had competitive spirits, you knew you couldn’t’ let him spew lies. 

Peter sat up on your bed with his legs crossed as his eyes darted from his cards to the movie playing in the background. 

You and Peter had been hanging out more and more lately and you never realized how much fun it was to spend time with him. You couldn’t believe you two had gone from yelling and screaming insults at each other to playfully bantering as you hung out in your room. 

“ What do I get if I win this round?” You ask as Peter let out a low chuckle. 

“ Darling, you’re never going to beat me, I promise you that,” Peter said as he put down another card,” but if you win, maybe I could give you a kiss-from the store! Like those chocolate kisses, the Hershey ones!”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and shook your head,” Nice save Parker, you were so close! But lets just say when I win...you owe me a favor. Nothing bad but maybe one day you’ll have to do my laundry or make me breakfast.”

“ You know I could do those things for you without having it be a favor,” Peter said as you took another look at your deck,” if anything, now would be the best time to ask me to do favors for you.”

You looked up at Peter for a moment before turning back to your deck of cards. You weren’t sure why his answer had made you feel a certain type of way but you felt guilty nonetheless. 

The idea that because of Peter’s state, you could literally ask him to do anything for you and he would do it without a second guess made you feel gross. You never would want to take advantage of him when you knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind and you would hope that if it were the other way around, he would give you the same respect. 

“ We can wait until after you’re cured,” You assured him as you showed Peter your winning deck with a smirk,” what were you saying about how I would never beat you?” 

Before Peter could answer, the complex shook from underneath the foundation and the lights throughout the building shut off. 

You hardly paid any attention to it since things were always going on around the complex to mess with the power and after a few seconds of waiting, the power came back on and you moved your attention to the cards on the bed. 

“ What do you think it is this time?” Peter asked as you handed him the rest of the cards so he could reshuffle them. 

You shrugged as you sat up from the bed and looked out towards your window that looked out to the landing pad,” Well there’s not some spaceship outside so I’m guessing it came from the labs, speaking of which, my dad said they've been working extra hard and they think they found something.”

“ That’s good news,” Peter said as he felt a bit of relief,” I want everything to go back to normal...I won’t lie, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

As each day passed, Peter’s mental and physical health declined drastically.  From agonizing insomnia to tight chest pains, Peter felt like his body was turning on him and he had never felt this type of pain before. 

Peter knew that this lovedust wasn’t temporary and the only way his pain would stop would be when a cure was found. In the beginning, he found himself to mostly be embarrassed around you and what would accidentally spill out of his mouth but now, he found so much comfort in being near you because that was the only way his pain would stop. 

“ I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help. If there was a way to take all of your pain for myself, you know I would,” You said as Peter shook his head. 

“ No, absolutely not. The way this dust messes with my mind and my body… I would never want you to go through something like this. You know how I was with my spidey senes? This is a hundred times stronger than that and your whole existence is underneath a microscope that I physically can’t pry away from but at the same time, I don’t want to look away,” Peter said as you grabbed one of your pillows and hugged it against your chest,” When I think about you, -which is all the time- I can feel myself getting more anxious-but in a good way- and then when I finally see you, it literally takes my breath away.”

You couldn’t help but let out a burst of laughter as Peter awkwardly laughed with you,“ God Parker, you’re so cheesy. Are you saying the lovedust made me pretty?” 

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he sunk into his seat shyly,” You were always pretty. Even before the lovedust, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I ever saw.”

Now it was your turn to stop laughing as your smile dropped into a ‘seriously?’ look. The idea of Peter ever thinking you were pretty had never even crossed your mind but now that he was confessing that he did even before the lovedust made your heart skip a beat. 

You weren’t sure why you were nervous all of a sudden but you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to because not even a moment later, a loud knock came from the other side of the door and you could hear your dad’s voice. 

“ Y/N, can I come in?” Tony asked as you and Peter’s eyes opened wide, silently panicking. 

Your dad had specifically told you almost every day that you were meant to stay away from Peter and you knew that if he found out, you would be grounded for the rest of your life. Your dad was a great parent but the reason that your relationship with him worked was because of trust and honesty. 

The rule was that he would always be honest with you if you were honest with him and you knew how much it would hurt him if he found out you were seeing Peter behind his back. 

You pushed Peter off the bed in a panic as he looked back at you confused. You pointed underneath your bed as Peter shimmied under it without a second thought. 

You quickly went to the door and opened it wide to see your dad standing there in his lab coat. 

“ Have you seen your boyfriend? He needs to do another round of tests before bed and I can’t find him anywhere,” Your dad said as he walked past you and sat right on the edge of your bed. 

“ Um, excuse me, don’t contaminate my bed with your lab coat! And nope, not since you explicitly told me not to,” You said as you sat across from him at your desk,” Also, wow boyfriend? I thought I wasn’t supposed to have one until I’m forty? ”

You purposely tried to keep your eyes away from the bottom of the bed but you knew how easy it would be to lock eyes with Peter who was looking up at you. 

“ And I still stand by that. All boys are dumb and immature with the exception of any who live in this complex,” Tony looked over at the neatly stacked cards and started to shuffle them. 

“ Uncle Scott doesn’t live here,” you pointed out as your dad nodded,” and Uncle Steve just visits.”

“ Did I stutter?” He said as you let out a small laugh,” But now that I’m here, I wanted to talk to you about Peter and what we discovered so far. I don’t want to scare you but his condition is getting severe and I feel like you should know what’s going on.” 

You darted your eyes towards the bottom of your bed but quickly looked back at your dad. 

“ Um, does Peter know what’s going on?” You asked as your dad shook his head. 

If there was any chance that whatever your dad was about to say could mentally or physically break down Peter, you didn’t want it to be from Peter listening in underneath your bed.  

“ No and he can’t know,” your dad sighed as you shifted in your seat,” I think it would mess with his head and we need his morale to be high.  You cannot tell him but we discovered-”

“Dad um, I’m really tired and I have school in the morning. Can we talk about this another time?” You interrupted as your throat suddenly felt dry,” school has me drained and I don’t think I’m emotionally ready for any other curveballs.”

Your dad only nodded as he got up from the bed and pressed a kiss onto your forehead,“ Alright kiddo, don’t stay up too late. After school, I want you up in the lab with Banner and I, we could use your help,” Tony said casually as you gave him a small smile. 

“ Okay, no problem, goodnight,” You said as your dad closed your bedroom door behind him. 

You waited a second and thought things over as Peter scooted out from underneath your bed. 

You turned your head to look at Peter and as you two locked eyes for a moment, it was as if you two were both apologizing by just one glance. You wanted to tell him that everything would be okay and that no matter what, Peter would be able to be back to normal yet you knew you shouldn’t promise things you couldn’t keep. 

Peter knew that you wanted to spare his feelings but he would’ve given anything to find out what his mentor was keeping from him. For the first time since he made contact with the lovedust, he felt defeated and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. 

You didn’t want to lie to him but it was hard to do that when you knew you should comfort and console him. 

The idea that something was really wrong with Peter besides a few embarrassing word vomits terrified you and you never thought that it would ever get so serious. 

“ Peter, I will always be here if you need anything...No matter what, you’ll always have me,” You said as Peter’s jaw clenched. 

You knew those weren’t the best things to hear at a time like this but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie and tell him that everything will work out when you didn’t have all of the information. 

Peter got up from the ground and stood over you, his dull eyes felt like they were looking through you instead of at you,” Just...don’t give up on me, okay?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded as Peter gave you one final look before exiting your room. 

As soon as the door closed behind Peter, he felt his knees buckle in as he slid down on the other side of the door and did his best not to cry. 

Every time Peter exhaled, he felt like his throat was on fire and the only way he could describe the feeling in his chest was imagining loose telegraph wires electrocuting a swimming pool. As his breathing became more rapid and shallow, all he could think about was how to stop the pain. 

He didn’t know that being in love could ever feel this painful but Peter hated it. He hated the feeling of being so helpless and he hated himself for always thinking of you. 

Every thought of him holding you close to his chest, him pressing his lips against yours, and him telling you over and over again how much he loved you felt corrupted and only brought more pain. 

But if Peter really thought about it, he would never take any of it back. If being in love with you meant that there was a chance he could literally die, then that was a risk he was willing to take. 

@eridanuswave​ @juliet-winterson​ @akacalumtrash​ @ilovepeterparker13​

@parkerboop​ @juliebean247​ @multi-fan-lover​ @ffffan-----girlll @lukesbabylon​

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@lemonsnips​ @aduky​ @faithfullcompanion​ @stopthemotherfuckingmusic

@satellitespidey @foreverpark​ @marvelobsessedteenager​ @deadpoetsbackup

@zalladane​ @starcourt-s​ @parkersinfinitywar​ @stargazingcarol​ @littlesugarb​

@itsteph13​ @jennasmmith​ @liljennyx3​ @harryspet​  @todaynotseen @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​  @tiny-friggin-human @popluckbih    niiight-dreamerrrr     sovereignparker  marie-is-in-the-dark  buckyboy-soldier   maia030   parkershoco wolverinesbeer   cherrysruin  sunkissdes  kiainspace  songofcosplay spideylovin  write-from-the-heart  thatcrazywhovian09  eternallyvenus  thollandx msrawog  idiosadeoro  imawkwardandhereweare  foundwolves thequeen-oni silverwolf-sama  inspiring-bea  multiversegalaxygirl  lastupidebitchette idekwho1am

silverwolf-sama  wishing-wanting  annoyinglyloudcomputer  faithful-music akacalumtrash  agusdoti   panickedbrain   serendipitous-amor   shannonthewriter-blog    darth-andy   farfromtom   xroselights   murdermornings dorbiksbitch   baby-unidorn   yes-multi-fandom-girl   multiversegalaxygirl a-disappointing-teen-author

[reinersluvrr]

Tiny Dancer - Tenya Iida

Pairing: Tenya Iida x gn!reader. Dancer AU.

Wc: 1.6k+

Warnings: None, just heart wrenching fluff. c:

A/N: DKOSNGDGO my first work!! Honestly I like how this turned out. I might take requests whenever I get comfortable with writing on here again. I hope you enjoy!

Dance had been a hobby for you for as long as you could remember. You can still remember your very first costume, a hot pink tutu with white polka dots, accompanied with a matching bow. That’s where it had all started, from the ripe age of three years old. To this day, you never considered dancing with a guy. Of course you had to think about your senior year next year, along with the senior boy/girl dance. To be completely honest, the thought of it filled you with dread.

Interacting with guys your age scared you. Not of the boys themselves, but how they would perceive you as a dance partner. Would they be embarrassed of you? Would they pick someone else? You tried not to think about it too much. You shook your head of these thoughts as you entered the dance studio for the evening. Your classes were both in one night, so that was convenient. What wasn’t convenient though was when the studio owner made the inevitable announcement.

“Pay attention now girls! Tonight, you’ll be picking your partner for next year’s senior partner dance. It might seem like a long ways away, but trust me, it’s not. Now, have at it!”

Well shit. You had to pick now? The dance was still months away! The irritated sigh you let out didn’t go unheard. You started to aimlessly walk around the room, observing your fellow dancers chatting with guys. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A sharp one at that.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You turned towards the polite voice, and your jaw nearly dropped. There stood a tall boy, with a sturdy frame. His royal blue hair matched his eyes, and he stood almost completely straight. You weren’t gonna lie, you were enamored by him; he was (hot as hell) handsome.

“Huh- what? Oh! Hello.” You mentally kicked yourself at your fumbling words. The palms of your hands began to feel clammy, so you rubbed them against the sides of your leggings. Suddenly you forgot how to speak. Your legs felt like jelly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“I wanted to ask if you have found a partner yet! Seeing as you were standing alone, I assume not.” Suddenly you felt a rush of warmth across your cheeks; he saw you just standing there? As you gaze at the boy as he spoke, you noticed his wild, sharp hand motions. It made you giggle, but you caught yourself.

“No, no I don’t. If you don’t have one.. would you like to be my partner?” You inquired, albeit awkward and nervous.

“Oh, of course! You seem to be a professional when it comes to this kind of thing. Meanwhile I uh, might need some a-assistance.” He stuttered as he pushed up his glasses.

So he’s new huh? You couldn’t help but smile at his shyness. Now that you looked around at everyone else’s partners, you might have struck gold. He seems sweet, even though he’s a bit awkward and stiff. You didn’t mind at all! At least he wasn’t some snot-nosed jock.

“Alright! I assume you’ve picked your partners. Wonderful! That’ll be all for tonight. We’ll officially start learning the routine next week, so be ready! Off you go now.” Your instructor announced.

“Now that it’s settled, would you like my number? It’ll make it easier to keep in contact! ..For the dance sessions of course.” The bluenette offered.

“Oh, sure! By the way, I never got your name.” You asked as you handed him your phone to insert his number.

“O-oh, my apologies! I’m Tenya. Tenya Iida.” He offered his hand. You offered him a warm smile and took it. “I’m F/N L/N! Nice to meet you, Iida.” A dash of pink appeared on his face has his hand wrapped your tiny one as he shook it. Now that he thought about it, you looked so tiny and petite compared to him. It was.. cute.

~~~~~~~~

From that week forward, you and Iida would meet up at the dance studio every Thursday for classes. It was actually quite fun, despite how inexperienced he was. You helped him with every aspect of the dance, from keeping count to his movements and flow. The two of you became a great team together! However, mistakes were very common. Mostly on Iida’s end anyway.

“O-oh, I’m so sorry L/N-san!” He yelled out after stepping on your foot. Seeing as he was much taller than you, little incidents like this occur every so often. Honestly, you found it endearing how sweet and polite he was. However, you began noticing how tense he was at every practice. Especially when he was very close to you. Did he regret choosing you as a partner? Was he nervous around you in general?

You noticed that he began to ramble, spewing out multiple apologies. You couldn’t help but laugh as you lightly touched his arm. “Iida, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me anyways. Besides, you’ve been doing great! Don’t be afraid to get close whenever you need to. I trust you.” You affirmed to him.

Suddenly he stopped mid ramble and stared at you. When did it get so warm in here? His face was tinted red as he scratched the back of his neck. “Of- of course! It’s just.. never mind.”

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head to the side. His behavior was starting to worrying you now. Did you do or say something wrong? You sighed and looked down at your watch, class was about to end.

“Hey, Iida, can I talk to you before we leave? I wanna ask you something.” He sweatdropped.

“Yes! Yes of course.”

~~~~~~~

Once the two of you exited the room, you grabbed his wrist. You tried to look around the room, anywhere but at him. You wanted to get to the bottom of this, why he seemed to be so anxious around you.

“Iida, did I do something to make you nervous around me or something? Please let me know if I did, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You whispered.

He looked at you in shock. Why would you think that? You’ve done nothing but be a good partner, an excellent dance teacher to him. Though, he couldn’t help but notice how elegant each time you turned, how easily your body flowed with the music, or the way you smiled even after a long and exhausting practice. Did he do something to make you think otherwi- oh.

Now that he thought back on it, he always hesitated whenever you two had to be in close proximity to each other. His muscles would tense up, and he wouldn’t hold you quite close enough sometimes. He knew why though, but he was somewhat embarrassed about it. But he wanted to be transparent with you, you two were dance partners after all.

“What? No! Not at all! In fact, it’s.. far from that. Really far. Ever since we became partners, I got worried that I would hurt you. You’re just- so tiny and I’m so tall and I didn’t know if you trusted me enough. You’re so elegant with the way you move and I’m just.. stiff.” He ranted.

Okay, now it was your turn to feel warm. He called you elegant? You? Sure, you had experience but you wouldn’t label yourself as that. His words started to blur as you kept repeating that one word in your head. He had called you elegant. Elegant.

“...and I was so scared that I would drop you and- L/N-san?”

You shook your head and blinked, looking up to meet his gaze. Fuck, you had spaced out. Good job.

You finally responded. “Iida, remember what I said earlier? I trust you. Even if you’re much bigger than me, that’s okay! I know you would never hurt me on purpose, mistakes happen! Besides, you’re learning, and you’ve improved so much! I’m glad I chose you as my partner.”

You reached forward and gave his large hand a comforting squeeze. Iida felt his head spin and his heart rate pick up. You were so small but so warm and cute. His heart could only take so much. He sighed a breath of relief that he had, unknowingly, been holding in. You really did trust him.

“Thank you. I’m very happy you find me so trustworthy.”

You gave him that smile that he loved so much in return. He had to take in a breath before he continued. “Actually, now that we’re still here, I wanted to ask you something as well.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What is it?”

He ran a finger through his hair.

“Well, ever since we’ve been working together, I couldn’t help but notice the small things about you. Like how confident you are in your steps, how patient you are with me, and.. how good of a partner you are. I couldn’t help but admire all of that, admire you.” He took in a shaky breath.

“What I wanted to ask is if you’d like to.. go out with me.”

A blush blossomed across your face and throughout your body. He really felt the same way as you? You had to be dreaming. Thousands of thoughts rushed your mind, you couldn’t find the right words. So you just launched yourself into his broad chest, wrapping your small arms around his back. “Yes. Of course I will Tenya.” You murmured.

It took a second for him to recover, but once he did, he let out a breathy laugh and enveloped you in his arms, kissing the top of your hair.

“Thank you, my tiny dancer.”

[luvhypen]

wingmen!

paring: jake x gender neutral reader

disclaimer: this is my first fic in a while and also this isn’t proof read :[

word count: 2.3k+

genre: fluff, just pure fluff

a/n i kinda realised this was centred around jungwon and sunoo messing around but! there is kinda some romance... anyways i hope this isn’t too bad :)

yang jungwon and kim sunoo were taught to never, big emphasis on never, meddle in things that weren’t their business. however, it’s safe to say that the two threw away that lesson for something they found more important. and that was y/n and jake sim, their loving but yet so so oblivious friends. at the start, the blushing and giggling at each other’s terrible jokes were tease-worthy, maybe even cute? but now, it’s so unbearable and exhausting that even their homeroom teacher can’t even understand why they aren’t dating.

that’s why the two friends devised a plan, actually multiple plans. plan a, for when things will go smoothly. plan b, for when there’s a tiny bump in the road. plan c, for everything above have failed. three plans filled with clichés to get their friends to finally ask each other out, what could go wrong?

i. PLAN A

the plan was simple, a (fake) love confession placed inside the locker of an unsuspecting y/n. the contents of the letter were laughable, the pair having a good time trying to make jake sound childish and silly in his love letter.

‘you’re making him look like a seven year old jungwon’ sunoo told him in between laughs. ‘why did you draw this in crayon? you and i both know jake’s a muji pen user’. the two were standing right in front of y/n’s locker, both keeping an eye out to see if one of the two oblivious idiots were passing by.

‘it’s all i had on me!’ jungwon cried out as he eyed the end of the hallway, ‘okay hurry! the coast is clear no sign of dumb and dumber’.

sunoo, not really trusting jungwon’s eyes, takes a good look of their surroundings. he made sure to look out for sunghoon as well as he tells jake everything, and that means everything. the boy will never forget about the time jake had teased him for telling a cashier to “keep the change” when he still owed them thirty more cents, something only sunghoon was present for.

‘okay’ sunoo carefully slid in the love letter into the thin opening of y/n’s locker. ‘it’s in, hurry and hide! i swear their class ends in-’.

‘hurry!’ the sound of the bell causing the two to run off in opposite directions, their hiding places letting them get a good view of the show they (technically) directed. the pair watched as y/n left their classroom, unsurprisingly with jake following closely behind them. the sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces? the heart eyes? the giggling at every single word being said? they were in love, but the two fools were so oblivious to it.

eyes followed them as y/n headed to their locker, sunoo and jungwon couldn’t understand why they were sweating so much. was that a sign that their plan wouldn’t work? nah, it was bound to work. only someone incredibly stupid would not see the huge letter right in front of them-

‘ready?’ jungwon overheard jake speak. jungwon knew that sunoo was just as confused as he was. did they not see the love letter? it was so big and stupid looking that they couldn’t have missed it. maybe he shouldn’t of doubted the two, maybe they were as incredibly stupid as he had doubted them to be.

‘yup!’ y/n said cheerfully. sunoo could feel his forehead wrinkle in annoyance when he realised the two didn’t even acknowledge the letter, in that very moment he knew he had to make the next step.

‘y/n! jake!’ the boy walked up to the pair, jungwon’s eyes widened when he realised his partner left his hiding place, what is he doing? he watched as sunoo glanced over at him with a look that basically said “leave this to me!”.

‘sunoo!’ jake greeted him warmly, ‘i thought you had algebra now?’

‘nope! i have a free period right now’

‘oh, then why are you here?’ jake sounded and felt confused, sunoo never visited him during free period unless he wanted something or he needed something. ‘i don’t have five dollars by the way’.

‘i don’t need money! it’s kinda harsh that you think of me like that jake’ sunoo pouted through his words. ‘i just wanted to say that i’m inviting everyone to my house tonight! since it’s a friday and we haven’t all seen each other in a while’.

‘oh! that sounds fun’ y/n replied with a cheery smile, ‘i’ll be there, well jake and i’. sunoo couldn’t help but notice the growing blush on the boy’s face at the sound of his name, whipped.

‘great, see you two tonight’

sunoo smirked as he waved the two off as they headed towards their next class. not forgetting jungwon, he signalled the boy towards him to tell him the rundown of what had just happened.

‘so plan a was thrown away after a mere three minutes?’ jungwon looked at sunoo confused.

‘stop thinking it failed!’ he rolled his eyes, ‘it didn’t! it just, helped us get on the next step’.

‘so basically plan b is a go?’

‘plan b is a go’.

ii. PLAN B

what could get more cliché than a movie night date? a scary movie night date. sunoo and jungwon both knew that this was the plan that was going to start the blossoming relationship of jake and y/n. the plan was simple, jake and y/n will obviously be sitting together and when a jump scare shows up, y/n will jump into his arms! sunoo bets that they’ll look at each other in the eyes and confess their feelings right then and there. jungwon bets the opposite, he thinks that they’ll awkwardly pull apart from each other, the rest of the night they won’t stop think about each other and when they walk home together that’s when they’ll simultaneously confess to each other!

‘y/n! sit beside me!’ a voice across the room caught the attention of the two boys. they knew for a fact it wasn’t the voice of jake, meaning it could be the only other person glued onto the other hip of y/n.

‘riki!’ y/n flashed another smile, ‘of course’. the two boys watched as they left jake’s side to sit in the empty space beside the fifteen year old.

‘what do we do now...’ jungwon whisper shouted in sunoo’s ear. the boy flinched at the loud noise before swatting the boy away. the pair could tell that this plan wouldn’t work as well as they thought, maybe it was the dependance they had on clichés? maybe it was that the two were unpredictable at times? they didn’t know, all they knew was that they wanted all the credit for the (almost) new couple.

‘don’t worry my good friend, i have the perfect plan’ sunoo’s annoyed expression morphed into a smirk.

‘you said that last time! now riki’s the one that’s gonna be in y/n’s arms during scary jump scares while jake is sitting crisscross applesauce right in front of them!’ jungwon’s frowned, ‘if anything let me handle it’.

‘do whatever you want but i’ll-’

‘riki!’ a sudden voice in the room causes the bickering boys to turn their heads, ‘don’t you need help with your world history homework? you asked me if i could help you while they watch their movie’.

‘i did?’ riki replied in a rather confused voice.

‘yes, you did’ heeseung said through gritted teeth. the group of boys watched as the oldest lightly dragged the youngest into sunoo’s kitchen. y/n watched in concern, not knowing if they should help riki or scold heeseung for being so uptight during a movie night.

‘can i sit here?’ jungwon and sunoo squinted when they realised jake was asking the question. the two didn’t know why they felt butterflies over the simple question.

‘sure!’ another one of y/n’s signature smiles blinding the boy in front of him. ‘i mean now that riki’s been taken away! wait no- i didn’t mean it like that. obviously i want you to sit beside me-’.

‘y/n calm down!’ y/n’s embarrassingly long spew sending a second hand embarrassment shiver down the two boy’s body. jake laughs quietly as he place’s himself down beside them, a growing blush placed on their ears and cheeks.

‘do they both not realise the whole room is watching them?’ jungwon whispered into sunoo’s ear. sunoo looked around and it was true, the scary movie was quickly replaced by the bashful (almost) couple.

‘what are you two doing?’ sunghoon joined their conversation. the boys jumped in surprise, not expecting him to even talk to them. everyone knew that sunghoon took movie night seriously, he would watch the movie without making a comment unlike his talkative friends and finish his night up researching the movie’s end and plot.

‘talking about the movie obviously!’ sunoo smiled innocently.

‘liar’ jay whispered, ‘we all know your little scheme, you never invite us over’.

‘hey’ jungwon whisper shouted at the group of boys surrounding him, interfering so the two wouldn’t start bickering. ‘wouldn’t jake and y/n get suspicious over the fact we are grouped together in the corner of the couch whispering to each other?’.

‘dumb and dumber wouldn’t even notice if we threw a rock at their heads right now’ the group glanced over at the pair, their stiff positions and the small i’m-in-love smiles plastered on their faces were enough proof that the two were in la la land.

‘you guys meddled too?’ jungwon tilted his head in confusion.

‘why did you think riki was so confused when heeseung said he’d help him with world history?’ sunghoon sighed, ‘he doesn’t even do world history!’.

‘you could of told a better lie’ sunoo rolled his eyes, ‘jungwon and i had an amazing plan-’.

‘but heeseung! i don’t even do world history, why do i need help with homework?’ sunoo couldn’t understand why he kept getting interrupted.

‘i guess it would of been smarter to let riki into our plan’ jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘riki, i’ll explain! now get back in the kitchen, don’t you want to know who anne frank is?’ riki and heeseung entered the room, heeseung with a frantic look on his face while riki looked annoyed.

‘i know who anne frank is!’ riki frowned, ‘you weren’t even asking me about world history anyways! you kept asking me about our dance club, the one we are both in’.

‘i’ll talk about world history now! um, world war one?’

‘wait’ riki squinted his eyes at the jake and y/n, who were sitting rather close. ignoring the oldest’s question, he walked closer to the pair.

‘what is he doing...’ jungwon whispered.

‘are you two dating?’ the sudden question from the youngest’s mouth caused y/n to flinch in her seat.

‘oh my god’ sunoo blurted out.

‘did he just start plan c without even knowing what plan c was?’.

iii. PLAN C

plan c, or what the two boys would like to call it, plan confirmation. the final plan if all things went wrong, in all honesty nothing in plan b went wrong. however the curiosity of nishimura riki quickened the pace up. the contents of the plan were simple, straight up asking the pair if they were dating. it was a simple but not so romantic way to start dating, and that was the main reason it was the “if all else fails” plan.

‘no’ the group of boys didn’t know that one word could shock them, i mean they saw it coming but they didn’t know it would shake them up this much.

‘no it’s okay you can tell them y/n’ jake’s words only shocked the boys even more, their eyes widening in surprise to hear the almost confirmation of their relationship.

‘what do you mean? you said the letter in my locker wasn’t from you?’

‘it doesn’t mean i don’t don’t like you?’ jake said confidently.

‘wait...’ jungwon stared at the two, ‘you found our letter?’.

‘jungwon! you weren’t supposed to say it out loud’ sunoo scolded him through gritted teeth.

‘shut up’ jay whispered in their ears, ‘something’s gonna happen i can feel it’.

everyone could notice the red tinge on jake’s ears. they watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while y/n stared at him in utter confusion.

‘i like you, y/n’ the blushing boy said quietly but just loud enough that they could hear it. ‘i swear i was going to confess in a better way but i was kinda under pressure right now...’

‘oh?’ y/n tilted her head to the side, ‘i thought you rejected me?’

‘i did?’ jake looked as confused as everyone else in the room.

‘you told me on new year’s eve to wait and i thought that was you letting me down easy’.

‘you did?’ the bewildered look in jake’s eyes confused y/n even more.

‘that’s why you left early?’

‘i feel like they needed to speak about this a while ago’ sunoo whispered into jungwon’s ear.

‘it doesn’t matter now! what matters is that i like you too’ y/n smiled happily.

‘oh’ jake let out in surprise.

‘this is way more sickly than i thought this moment was gonna be’ jay mumbled bitterly.

‘so you two are dating?’ riki asked, not really processing what had just happened.

‘are we?’ jake turned to y/n.

‘yes’

maybe the plans a to c did work? i mean if it wasn’t for the help of the meddling jungwon and sunoo did, the almost couple turned into a real couple. the pair in all honesty really didn’t care that much, they were just happy they got the real thing they wanted.

the satisfaction knowing that they were the ones that played wingmen.

[refiwrites]

Shortcircuit

Denki Kaminari x reader

Word count: 1684

Warning(s): None

A/N: CAN I JUST SAY I LOVE DENKI SM AND I’M HAVING THE HUGE DENKI BRAINROT EVER SO HAVE THIS- Also I based this off of U.A’s Sports Festival since I can’t think of any scenario. Enjoy!

Also, GIF not mine!

You sat at the bleachers, next to Tsuyu and Ochaco at the U.A’s sports festival. Your match just got done a few moments ago, you ended up winning which eased your nerves since you practically couldn’t sleep all night long.  

You were very thankful you have Denki with you to spew you words of encouragement whenever you started doubting yourself as the days of the sports festival counted down.  

And here you were now, you weren’t going to lie when you felt your hands get a little bit sweaty as the next match was announced, none other than Denki Kaminari himself against another student from class 1-B.

Your heart almost dropped with the sudden boom of the speakers surrounding the stadium.

“Onto the match, from the hero course of Class 1-B, Ibara Shiozaki!”

You inspected her as she walked up the stage, her hair was seemingly switched for vines and you realized that was probably her quirk. It looked pretty too.  

“Versus, sparking killing boy, from the hero course of Class 1-A, Denki Kaminari!”

You couldn’t help your heart to swell as you kept your gaze locked on the blond even though his back was facing you as he slowly strutted up the stage. The stadium erupted into loud cheers and screams of encouragement from both classes as they took their stance.  

“Oh, I hope Kaminari-kun could win this one!”  Ochaco voices out her support, hands tangling together as she also kept watch.

“We’ll just have to see how it goes.. ribbit.” Tsuyu says, tilting her head.

“I.. trust him.” You say, giving Ochaco and Tsuyu a smile, as they quickly returned it too, Ochaco giving you a side hug as cheers from all around you could be heard.

You smiled even widely, knowing your ball of electricity of a boyfriend won’t go down without a fight.

The cheers from around you made you a little bit nervous for him, don’t get yourself wrong, you fully have his support. You know how much he struggles with his quirk so it made you a bit antsy of how this match would go.  

Still, you breathed in deeply and kept your gaze on him, the view around you didn’t matter.  

You stood up for a bit, going close to the railings as Tsuyu and Ochaco curiously wandered their gaze to you. You took another intake of breath, raising your hands up and cupping them around your mouth as you cheered.  

“Go Kaminari! I’m rooting for you!” You saw how his head perked up instantly at the sound of your voice, head snapping around and up to search among the crowd for you, taking him only a few seconds to spot you. Heat rose to your cheeks as you both make eye contact with another despite the distance. 

You saw him give a wide grin towards you, probably to reassure you that he’s got this. And of course, Denki being Denki, sends a wink your way. God he’s such an idiot and you love him.

You never returned to your seat since you were 100% sure you weren’t able to sit still.

Once he had his back turned to you again, you watched.

“Anyway, staaaart!” Present Mic spoke, his loud booming voice slightly made your ears cringe.

You watched as your boyfriend fixed and straightened himself up, then getting into a stance. You were lying if you thought this didn’t made you fall for him more, his determination sometimes makes your heart blow a fuse.

You saw by his actions that he was probably talking off his mouth again.

“.. This match would probably be over in a second!”

And by that, you saw how bits and bolts of electricity ran through his body, blond locks flowing up as he swiftly moved.

“.. Indiscriminate Shock...”

You bit your lip as your heart made erratic beats. You know where this was going and you could only hope for the best.

“1.3 Million Volts!” His arms punctually raised and was rapid to be bought down as electricity coursed throughout him spreading towards his opponent.  

You had your fingers crossed as the scene played out freely in front of you.  

The 1-B student was quick enough to turn around, bowing her head down and mumbling a sort of prayer before her vines moved, creating a huge vine wall that shielded her off of Kaminari’s quirk quickly.  

Your eyes widened as you snapped your gaze back to your boyfriend who seemed to be still.  

Oh crap

A cracking sound could be heard as the stage’s ground split open, revealing green vines right in front of Kaminari, effectively surrounding him and trapping him in a cocoon of some sort but with vines as he was helplessly lifted up into the air.  

And you knew he also didn’t have the time to move since the drawback of his quirk held him back.  

Crap

“Now that was instant! An instant win!” Present Mic seemed to be having fun commentating while to you it seemed like all the sound drowned out as you could only keep your gaze to your boyfriend, who was currently in mid-air in a cocoon of vines–

“Shiozaki advances to the second round!” One of the teachers, Midnight, announced, pointing towards 1-B’s side of the stage.  

Cheers erupted again, you pouted but shook your head, the match being the least of your worries as you were too preoccupied staring at Denki. He was visibly shaking, well that always happens whenever he short circuits, and every time that happens, you worry.  

You didn’t realize the iron grip you had on the railings, your knuckles turning white.  

“Man..” You mumbled, a bit of sadness bubbling inside you.  

“What’s that? Didn’t he say he’d settle this in a second? That’s strange, he was defeated in a second, wasn’t he?”

And now that sadness was quickly replaced with anger, you were fuming. You didn’t even get that angry easily but when someone talks like that, especially to Denki, you were ready to fight.  

You snapped your gaze up next to class 1-B, seeing Monoma crept up against the wall with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. And honestly? You wanted nothing more but to burn him on the spot, but you shook your head.  

Maybe just a punch will do–

“Class 1A is supposed to be better than–“ He didn’t get to finished his sentence as Kendo struck him on the neck, effectively knocking him out as her face appeared.  

“Sorry!”

1A just sat frozen at what just happened but you were still fuming.

After Monoma got knocked out, Denki was carefully set back down, Shiozaki’s vines retreating back to her head.  

Denki was placed on a stretcher as his arms retreated back and forth with a thumbs up, you pouted as you saw your boyfriend in his shortcircuit-ed state. You knew he was off to get sent to recovery girl and you were just about to make a beeline for it when Ochaco grabbed your wrist, sitting you down for a moment.  

“Calm down Y/N, I’m sure Kaminari-kun would just be fine, he has handled a lot of those, right? You can just visit him later, stay with us!” Ochaco pleaded which you agreed with a heavy sigh.  

You sat back down, trying to get as comfortable as you could but you couldn’t get the thought of Denki out of your head.  

Although Izuku’s mumbling about the match along with the sound of his pen scraping against his burnt notebook got you and Ochaco snapping your gaze at him with a crazed look.

A few matches passed, with each second filling you up with more worry. As soon as you heard there was a quick break, you bolted upright, excusing yourself from your classmates as you ran throughout the hallways, spotting recovery girl’s clinic.  

Please be fine, please be fine, please be fine

You knew he could handle it and that he’ll be back to normal after a while but you just couldn’t help it.  

You quickly stepped inside the clinic, alerting a few students that were there to either rest or get their injuries taken care of.

You mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ as you rushed to find Denki.  

You finally spotted him sat on one of the clinic beds, arms still but he still had his thumbs up.  

“Hey, Denki.. baby..” You softly greeted, inching close to him.  

“Whiee–“ He wheezed out, it made you giggle a bit as you stood in front of him, hand reaching out to brush a few of his hair, playing with the black streaks as he continued to mumble yay’s and whiee’s.  

With a sigh, you shook your head. “You really worry me sometimes, you idiot.”  

You sat next to him and waited until his yay-mode died down.

“Mhrmghm.. H-huh? Y/N? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be watching with them?”  

Aand he was back.  

You beamed, arms instantly opening to engulf him in a hug, burying your face in his chest. He was quick to return the action, arms wrapping around you and placing a soft kiss to your head.  

“You had me worried back there.” You said, voice being mumbled because your face was still pressed onto his chest.  

He lets out a laugh, hand coming up to brush your back up and down.

“You know how my quirk is, right baby? Look, I’m back now, everything’s fine, alright? Your man is back.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless, face retreating from his chest and facing him.  

You looked around for a bit, seeing that the others were busy so you quickly pecked his lips, both of you blushing lightly.  

“Why don’t we go back there and watch with them, okay? Then we can head back to the dorms after its over then we can cuddle, sound good?” Denki suggested, to which you nodded happily. Getting off the bed and pulling him right with you.  

“Sounds like an awesome plan to me.”

And by that, you walked hand-in-hand back to the bleachers to watch the remaining matches and events.

[rosenbergh]

stitched with its color

There is a girl sitting in Joyce’s seat at the dining room table. 

(1.3K words, Patricia/Joyce, 2nd POV)

---

Your absence has gone through me

Like thread through a needle

Everything I do is stitched with its color

- W.S. Merwin

----

There is a girl sitting in Joyce’s seat at the dining room table. Dark hair flows in a ponytail. You think that if her hair were loose, she’d be using it as a curtain to hide her eyes. The girl looks spineless. The girl is Joyce’s replacement.

Replacement, you sneer in your head. Not fucking likely.

Victor had been extremely vague. All he’d given them was, “Joyce is gone.”

Like you’re just gonna accept that. You vow to get answers, but meanwhile…

Meanwhile you have to secure Joyce’s place back from this little thief.

-

It turns out the girl, Nienke, is not so spineless after all. She proves this. You just continue to scowl and insult her, an ugliness rearing inside you, insisting that this is wrong. Every time you look at Nienke, you are filled with the sense of deep error that it should be Joyce here instead.

You just want things to go back to the way they were. You want Nienke gone, and Joyce back. It should be simple, so why is it so hard?

-

(You’re so used to sneaking over to each other’s rooms that it’s not even a thing anymore.

Amber and Mara, respectively, never comment anymore when it happens. Joyce even has a stash of candy in her nightstand for when you stay up all night, whispering about…all sorts of things. A stash of candy so you don’t get in trouble for going downstairs for snacks.

You might try throw said candy at Joyce’s face. She might retaliate with tackling you to the matress and mercilessly tickling you, at which your stomach will give a traitorous swoop.

After, you’ll get under the covers, both instinctively knowing which side and how to lie down in the best position so you’re both comfortable.

For some reason, this night, you can’t sleep. After what feels like hours, you change positions so you’re facing Joyce. Her eyes are open, watching you.

She laughs, and whispers, “Did I startle you?”

It’s only now that you notice you jumped straight out of the bed. You give a cursory glance to Mara. Still asleep.

“Yes,” you say, trying to be lighthearted. “You jerk, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, matter-of-fact. “You love me.”

Your heart pounds. You get back into the bed.

“C’mon,” she needles sleepily, her drowsy eyes closing. “Admit it.”

“Yeah, Joyce,” you say, stifling a sigh. “You’re right. I do love you.”

Joyce gives a sleepy, victorious smile. She falls asleep within minutes.)

-

Photographs have empty spaces where your best friend is supposed to be.

When the teachers aren’t evading questions about Joyce, they pretend she doesn’t exist.

You spew conspiracy theories because after all of this dodgy behavior, how can you not. Everyone looks at you like you’re out of your mind. Even Fabian. Even Mara. Worse, Mara’s eyes are filled with pity.

Right when you’re about to tear out your hair, someone finally listens.

-

“Jason? Is there any news?”

His eyes bear into you. “Sorry,” he says. “There must have been a mistake.”

He proceeds to act like every single adult you’ve talked to lately.

Like Joyce doesn’t exist.

A bit of hope you didn’t know you still had shatters into pieces.

-

Maybe that’s why you trust Rufus. Because when every single adult you’ve talked to acts like you’re crazy, you start to feel crazy. You start to feel fucking insane, actually.

Rufus believes you. Rufus tells you he’ll help you find Joyce.

That’s all you want. You just want to find Joyce. You want answers. You want her back.

You notice the red flags around this man in the black trenchcoat who seems to stalk you. You notice them, but you’ve got your hands in front of your eyes and you pretend not to see.

-

(You don’t remember the first time the two of you held hands. The two of you have always been tactile, and you’ve never questioned it. Not until you notice people giving you looks.

Looks for being more tactile than other female best friends, looks for holding hands. The two of you notice. But Joyce has always been happily living her life in her own bubble, and you don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about you.

In other words, the two of you don’t stop doing it. You swing your entwined hands and grin at whoever stares too long.

But you are…aware, now. That it’s different. That you’re different.

Your heart whispers about the difference, but you use the hand not holding Joyce’s and you cover your ear so you can’t hear.)

-

She doesn’t look like Joyce. Her hair is too dark. The glasses on her face seem awkward. Most of all, it’s her expression. Enjoying the musical with a smile, but worry seeps through, turning a mouth that is made for smiling into something unnatural.

She doesn’t look like Joyce.

That’s what everyone tells you.

Just because she doesn’t look like her, you want to scream at them, doesn’t mean it’s not her.

Instead, all you do is say, as authoritatively as you can manage, “It’s her.” 

-

Believe me, you really want to scream, familiar feelings emerging to the surface. Believe me, believe me, believe me.

After which, you want to whisper:

Come back to me.

Please, Joyce.

-

(“Why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

“Really?” you lash out, wiping at the tears with your sleeve. “Why don’t you go hang out with your new best friend Amber?”

Joyce scoffs with disbelief. “You’re jealous of Amber?”

“I saw you with her.” Talking, laughing, touching.

“She’s my roommate. I can’t just ignore her,” she says. “She was doing my hair, what’s so bad about that?”

A part of you knows you’re being a posessive bitch. You huff. “Nothing.”

Joyce lifts an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she parrots flatly.

You don’t want to ask, but this is Joyce, and you can tell her anything. You hate how small your voice sounds when you do ask. “Do you like her better than me?”

She blinks. “Do I…”

“Ow!” You rub the spot Joyce punched, even if she didn’t punch that hard.

“If you don’t want to get punched in the arm then you shouldn’t act like an idiot. People can have more than one friend, you know.”

“I know,” you say, thinking of Fabian. But your friendship with Fabian is different.

There’s that word again.

You can have more than one friend, but you only want one Joyce.

“Of course I like you best, you dummy,” she adds.

A warm feeling blossoms within you.)

-

It takes finding out about a secret club, it takes solving riddles, it takes being kidnapped… It takes a while, but you find out Joyce is okay. She’s alive and whole and not only that, you get to video chat with her.

Your heart stutters while the connection is made.

Selfishly, you want the others to be gone for this. You don’t want Amber, Nienke and Fabian here. You want to talk to Joyce alone.

Such thoughts vanish as soon as you see her face appear on the screen.

She’s smiling. A real smile, lighting up her face completely.

Much better.

“I miss you,” you say softly. The ugly part of you that wanted to claw and scream and take until you had Joyce in your arms again finally settles. Even when you can’t hold her, despite how much you want to.

You’re scared you won’t ever see her again. That it won’t ever be safe for her to return. But at least she’s okay. At least none of the gruesome scenarios your mind had conjured up during her absence are true.

It’ll have to be enough. You’ll have to accept it.

-

Trudie predicts your future love is going to show up soon. There’s a new student at the school. You think it must be connected.

Van Swieten enters the classroom and announces the prescence of the new student. You turn to look.

[unbefuckinglieveable]

If There's No Laughter

(( Well more angst for the soul. On where Logan tries to change his image to be less of a joke and it backfires horribly.

Tw: repression, conflict, self loathing

There is a saying that if there is no laughter there is only tears. Something Logan only heard in passing. He had resented the phrase at first. Logan wasn't laughing, how could he laugh when he was the joke. But he wasn't crying about it. That was for sure.

If Logan cried he would only be seen as weak, an even bigger joke. A disgrace to his namesake. Logic. He is logic, rational cool, calculating.

And he was crying over the sink in his bathroom. His disgust at himself only making his body quake more. Logan hated this, he hated he couldn't keep himself in control. Then he remembered, laughter. If he could make himself laugh at the times he hurt the most maybe he could rebuild his image.

The teacher who wasn't disheartened by his students selecting ignorance, but amused by their naive behavior. A soft laugh instead of a disillusioned sigh. Being available instead of hiding away. Besides Thomas was an actor, Logan was a part of Thomas. How hard could it be.

Logan had been doing so much better lately. He was laughing more, and joining in on group activities way more. Well way more than he used to. Patton was so proud, his friend digging his heels in and just not giving up. Even though Roman absolutely detested Logan's new behavior. ' It is Patronizing Padre'

Patton had tried really hard to get Roman, to ease up. That Logan was finally letting himself be himself again and that he was not to ruin it. Even when Roman said harsh words to Logan about his behavior, Logan would only laugh a little harder. Only to politely tell Roman that it was amusing that Roman was always so fickle.

Janus had to stay away from Logan. It was too hard. Every laugh echoed as a cry in his ears that No one else was hearing. The harder Logan laughed the harsher the sobs rung in his ears.

Janus was almost glad he didn't stay in the light side commons, it would have been too much. He confided only in Remus he was the only one who'd listen. After all Patton wouldn't hear it since Logan was doing so well.

Remus watched Logan closely, all the harsh words his twin spewed, how Virgil joined in feeling patronized, how Thomas seemed offended by the tone Logan was taking. How Logan spoke lightheartedly. Even when they all started to hate him.

Knowing Logan was trying not to cry was the hardest part. His laughter was growing less light and more exaggerated. Like he was about to fall into a fit of giggles at any inane suggestions.

Knowing it was cries, and sobs that were begging to be heard.

It came to a head while filming, it was something they hadn't done in a while because of 'creative differences'.

The topic being Thomas pretending to approve of a video Joan was making even though Thomas felt Joan would receive backlash with how much attention people were paying to the content they consumed.

Logan was laughing at something Roman had said about supporting his friends. No matter what. "So you'd support Joan even if it went against every fiber of your existence?"

"Yes I would, what of it? What do you know of support teach?" Another laugh, and Roman lost it, "What is so funny slogan, can't fathom what support is?"

Logan had been acting for so long,staying strong for so long. He just stopped. His entire mainframe froze. He didn't know what support was. These people don't support anything about him.

They HATE him.

" Well I go against you, do you support me, Princey?" Logan shot back at Roman in frustration. Thomas shouldn't support something he knew would cause his friend harm. It was not right to lie to Jo-

" No I don't support you." It proved the point Logan was trying to make. However it hurt something way deeper than Logan was able to handle. His laughter was jarring in that moment, unsettling.

It was hysterical, and booming, the five others in the room just stared and Janus tried not to hold his ears. Roman looked so offended. " Is it a joke then?! Knowing you are so intolerable I couldn't give up the opportunity to say it?"

The sob that followed silenced everyone even though there was a moment of relief for Janus. The logical figure's shoulders slumped quaking like a 5.0 earthquake. As months or repression came forward.

Patton looked realizing how wrong he was. How could Logan hide so long? Janus was right and he had never been so wrong.

" Logan I-" the logical side sank out in a haste, ignoring Patton's words. Logan hadn't prepared for hatred. Now he would.

" I tried to tell you, morality. " Janus said softly before sinking out maybe he should talk to Logan, not the light sides.