#The high school AP Statistics in me is shaking right now

[kuuyandere]

I just realised that I have poll capabilities! I can find the demographics of the yan community!!

Please reblog for a higher sample size! And I would be interested in hearing about how your romantic or sexual orientations impact your obsessive/possessive feelings, if at all. Thank you!

[threeletterslife]

[Finale] 10 | Illegirl

→ previous | next (second book of ly trilogy masterpost) 

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, implied, CONSENTED & PROTECTED sex (these adults are role models), mentions of sexual activities 

→ wordcount: 5.5k

"But what if they ask how we met?" you say, wiping your sweaty palms on the side of your modest skinny jeans. "What if they ask my age? Oh my god. What if they ask to meet my parents?"

"Relax, Y/N," your boyfriend soothes, taking you into a warm side hug as he guides you up the steps of his parents' rather large home. "You're 18 now, and you'll be in college next month. You're not so young anymore."

You huff, tucking in a strand of loose hair and fussing with the hem of your nicest blouse. "They're gonna hate me."

"It takes a lot for them to hate someone," Jimin laughs, rubbing your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down. "They're just... slightly judgmental. But it's not like they're going to interrogate you! It's just dinner."

"This was a bad idea."

"It won't be, trust me."

You sigh, rolling your eyes. "Is this my late graduation present? Or perhaps an early entering college gift?"

"Kinda?" It sounds more like a question than a sure statement. "I just want them to meet the person I love as early as possible!" Jimin gives you the puppy dog eyes he knows you can't resist.

"Okay, okay! But what if they ask questions we don't fucking know the answer to?" you say, worry lines appearing on your forehead. "Like when we met and shit??"

Jimin hums, lips pulling out in a pout as he thinks hard. After a moment of silence, he grins as if an adequate idea popped up in his head. "We'll improv!"

"Oh, you son of a b—HELLO, Mr. and Mrs. Park!" you quickly say, heart beating violently in your chest. Damn. Off to a not-so-great start. You almost called Jimin a 'son of a bitch,' in front of his goddamn mother.

Thankfully it seems like Jimin's parents didn't hear you. They smile at both of you as they open their front door wider, and your boyfriend noticeably grips your shoulder tighter, in an attempt to remind you to release your inner tension.

"Y/N, is it?" Mrs. Park smiles, though she looks you over with scrutiny. "Don't you look young?"

You flinch as Jimin wraps his arm around you, then saves you from answering. "Yeah, she's 18, mom." He places a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into the house.

"18? 18?!" Mrs. Park gasps, putting a polite hand over her mouth in shock. "Goodness me. You never date anyone more than three years younger! Your exes all had a stable job with high income... she's barely in college!"

Already, you feel quite uncomfortable, especially with Jimin's mother spewing random facts about his past girlfriends and lowkey dissing you. Then you have Mr. Park who had seemed friendly at first but continues to sneak glances at his phone as if he was expecting an important call. You were getting rich businessman vibes from him. No wonder their home had one too many chandeliers and shining glass windows.

"Mom..." Jimin warns, his voice dipping low. "You're gonna make Y/N feel uncomfortable."

"Oh no, it's fine," you quickly say, faking a genuine smile. "Yes, I'm young, but I am pretty mature for my age."

Damn. You're getting good at this lying business if you do say so yourself.

Mrs. Park raises her eyebrow, turning to consult her husband but finding him engaged in a serious phone call. She sighs, shaking her head as she looks you over once more, a warm smile blossoming on her face. "It's fine, dear. Age is merely a number. Come, dinner's waiting."

Jimin's mother waves you and her son over, her inside-wear Louis Watton fur slippers clacking against the white marble floor as she marches over to an extravagant dining room. Even the gilded vase in the center of the mahogany dinner table looks like it could pay for your whole college tuition.

And speaking of college tuition, the moment a steaming hot meal is placed on the expensive table by a couple of servants, Mrs. Park turns to you, a false smile playing on her lips. "So, Y/N, what is your college major?"

You had been looking forward to dipping your spoon into that aromatic soup but you pause, looking up to make eye contact with the older woman. "Uh, I'm gonna major in statistics but minor in mathematics."

Jimin grins proudly next to you, already wolfing down a piece of savory white truffle garlic bread. You gulp next to him, wanting to take a piece of that dish yourself. But Mrs. Park interrupts your inner drooling.

"Really? That's quite interesting. My son is a high school mathematics teacher, you two must get along well, especially if you love arithmetic like him," Mrs. Park hums while taking a delicate sip from her intricate glass of red wine. "Would you like some?" she offers to you. "It's the finest we've got, slightly acidulated with a citrus finish."

There's an awkward silence as Jimin noticeably pauses his chewing and you completely freeze on the spot.

"Oh! That's right, you're underage," Mrs. Park chuckles. "My deepest apologies, Y/N. Jimin? Would you like a glass?"

You duck your head down to stare at your hands, wondering what the hell this woman was up to. Was she purposefully bringing up your age to make the dinner more awkward? Or was it just polite habit that got in the way?

To your surprise, Jimin refuses the drink. "It's fine, mom. I have to drive us home, so I'll pass."

Mrs. Park nods in approvement, sipping on her wine glass with a dainty hand. "Now I wonder what your father is taking so long with. He was surely excited to meet Y/N." She huffs. "Doesn't seem like it to me."

Again, you really don't know what to say or how to react. Conversations, er, socializing has never been your thing. Especially with adults (eXcEpT JiMiN).

"So, tell me about yourself, Y/N," Mrs. Park says, scooting her chair closer as her eyes seem to pierce into your soul. "I want to get to know the lovely lady my son loves so much."

You gulp, taking a nervous look at Jimin who's been sipping his glass of water for quite a long time. Now you're thinking of doing the same, just to avoid talking.

Your tongue is a limp mess in your mouth, and your brain refuses to make coherent sentences. But amidst your panic, you feel a warm hand wrap around yours underneath the table, out of sight. It's Jimin, wordlessly showing his support.

Somehow it helps.

"Well, I really do love mathematics," you start as Jimin squeezes your hand.

"She might love it more than me," your boyfriend adds, giving you a loving glance. You smile. "Oh, and did I mention? Y/N's never had a 'B' in her life! She's the most intelligent person I know!"

You blush, sticking a piece of marinated flank steak in your mouth.

"Oh? Goodness, you must be hardworking, Y/N!" Mrs. Park compliments.

"Hardworking? Did I hear hardworking?" Mr. Park calls as he settles down next to his wife, across from you and Jimin. "I've always wanted a hardworking daughter in law!"

Your eyes widen as you chew on your sauteed asparagus. Daughter in law? What the fuck???

Jimin lightly squeezes your hand. A gesture to try to calm you for sure, and lucky for him, it works.

"Dad, I've already told you we haven't dated for too long," Jimin says, chuckling. "If you keep saying that, Y/N will run away!"

Mr. Park throws his head back and laughs. "Sorry, it's just that I've heard so many amazing stories about you, Y/N," he tells you, a particular glint in his eye. "You're a special young lady, and my son is blessed to be with you."

You're stuttering again, trying to find the right words to thank Jimin's dad for all the flattery. "I-I... O-Oh, gosh. Thank you, but I'm sure I'm the one who's been blessed to have met someone like Jimin." They're true words, not a hint of a fib between the lines.

"Awww!" your boyfriend sings, nudging your shoulder with affection. It's honestly then when it becomes so clear to you. Just a small action, only a small nudge of the shoulder shows you that with Jimin's support, you won't ever have to be uncomfortable. He's the magical key to your safe haven, your very own utopia. Somehow his little actions can make you feel like the two of you are the only ones in the room.

"Y/N. Y/N??"

Jimin's voice breaks you from your thoughts as you perk up looking around to see what you missed.

"You kinda fazed out there, you okay?" he asks, rubbing small circles to the back of your hand.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, leaning against him. God. I am so fucking in love.

Mr. and Mrs. Park watch intently with interest as they witness intense love with their own eyes. Even they seem to realize you and Jimin are a match made in the heavens.

"Ahem," Mr. Park coughs, gaining you and Jimin's attention. He smiles warmly at you, then grins proudly at Jimin. "So, enlighten us. How did you two ever meet?"

You jerk your head towards Jimin as both of you erupt in nervous laughter. "Err... long story."

It's a goddamn sin to be stripped of sight. First off, you can't fucking see which is a whole problem of its own. Second off, Jimin's sweaty hands are pressing against your closed eyelids, and you can't help but wonder if they're clean.

You'll take one for the (figurative) team and assume that they are. Besides, you don't want to ruin the romantic night by grumbling your ass off.

"Hey, that wasn't so bad, right?" Jimin whispers, his hot breath tickling your ear. He guides your body, pressing his broad chest against your back to god knows where.

"Interrogation from your parents? No, it was fucking glorious," you say, voice dripping with nothing but sarcasm. Jimin chuckles, leaving a light kiss on the back of your neck, but you pout. "Where are you taking me, Jiminie?"

"It's a surprise." He nuzzles you from behind as if that display of affection would placate you. Normally it would, but you're just not having it today. Something about being temporarily blind sucked all the patience out of you.

"Yeah, well, I hate you and your surprises," you mutter underneath your breath.

"If you hate me so much, why are you holding onto me so tightly?" Jimin chuckles as you flush. He was right. You were gripping onto his tan, exposed arms, hoping they would somehow protect you from the never-ending darkness that seemingly enveloped you as a whole.

"They say one should keep one's enemies close," you say snarkily. You're not backing down.

Jimin chuckles, placing another chaste kiss on the back of your neck. "I'm your enemy now?"

"Yeah, there's a fucking reason why there's a 'my' in enemy. You're my enemy, gotcha?" you giggle, shaking your head at how cheesy you were sounding. How love made you say the cringiest things.

You can't see it, but you know Jimin's beaming... either that or he's considering ditching you. Both are plausible.

"I just think you don't like surprises," Jimin sings in your ear.

"That too," you murmur. "Are we there yet?"

"God, Y/N," your boyfriend laughs. "You're 18, act like it! Besides, you'll love this surprise, I know you will."

"Yeah right, how can you be so su—"

Jimin's hands fall from your face, interrupting you mid-sentence as your eyes flutter rapidly to adjust to sight. Your jaw drops. "Oh my god," you whisper. "Jimin..."

It's that beach house. The same exact one that you two had visited way back when. The embarrassing night (if you recall correctly) when Jimin had quite sweetly apologized for 'sexually harassing' you. Your face reddens at the thought, and you quickly force yourself to admire the rest of your surroundings.

From outside, you can see the hundreds of little candles placed inside the house, lighting up the premises and warming your heart. There are even scented candles leading the way up to the front door. It smells like mint, and a flowery aroma you can't recall the name of.

"I remembered you like this place," Jimin says in a husky voice dripping with rich honey. He takes your hand, guiding you over and unlocking the door to the charming vacation home.

"It was beautiful," you whisper, eyes trained on the hundreds of flickering candles in front of the dimly lit ocean waters. "Even more so now."

Jimin smiles, his pillowy lips stretching perfectly across his glowing face as he tugs you into the house. "Good," he says, "we're here to make even more beautiful memories."

"Memories of what?" You cock your head, staring into your boyfriend's eyes that reflected the dancing embers of the candlelight.

"You'll see." And with that, he pulls you away to one of the larger bedrooms, following the pathway that the candles had offered.

You gasp once you enter the room. With the lack of sophisticated description, you could say that a fucking rose threw up in there. There are scarlet petals sprinkled meticulously across the dimly lit bedroom. Some incense burns in the corner, welcoming you with a sweet, floral fragrance. An aureate bed rests in the middle of the commodious chamber—your favorite kind of bed too, you might add—fluffy-looking with clean, white sheets.

The space takes your breath away. It's nothing like anything you've ever imagined. Romance writers take this!

"Do you like it?" Jimin whispers, nuzzling you from behind.

"Like would definitely be an understatement," you breathe, eyes still glued to the overwhelming scenery. "You planned all of this?"

"More or less," he mutters, tenderly nudging you towards the grand bed. Taking the hint, you flop down on the soft mattress, immediately assuming your natural position of looking like a human starfish. The sheets feel too silky against your hands, almost as if you were undeserving of touching such a delicate object. But it's absolutely perfect.

"God, Jiminie, this is so romantic."

You giggle, reaching out for your boyfriend's hand to pull him onto the bed. He complies, lying right by your side with your hands intertwined. It's silent for a while as you drink in your surroundings, attempting to engrave everything into your memories.

Then: "I'm thinking..." Jimin murmurs, interrupting your own thoughts.

"Really?" you giggle. "Usually one thinks quietly," you tease, rubbing small circles on the back of Jimin's hand.

Your boyfriend pouts as he turns on his side to face you. "At least ask me what I was thinking about." How can you resist when he's looking at you like that?

"Alright, alright, what were you thinking about?"

"You."

"Well, I am the only one here, and—"

"How I want you," Jimin quickly interrupts, his voice low, husky and sultry.

You giggle, moving over to wrap your arms around your boyfriend and burying your face into his warm chest. "But I'm right here!" you protest.

"But Y/N, I need you..." Jimin whispers, slowly pushing you back while maintaining eye contact. His look reflects back to your perception, and you can see the burning desire in them. Your stomach drops low.

Oh.

That look, with all that burning desire. It's what most people would call bedroom eyes. You would've never thought you'd see them up close, in real life. But here you are.

"Do you want me too?" His voice brings chills down your spine, and you gulp.

"No... I need you," you answer softly.

Jimin grins, wrapping a secure arm around you as he moves in. You don't have a second to breathe as his lips engulf yours. He kisses you slowly and sensually, both of your lips pulling and pushing in sync.

It's just the right amount of love and lust.

And when his tongue finds its way into your mouth, the wet figure slightly grazing your lips, you let out a weak breath. Noticing, Jimin smiles against the kiss, pulling away slightly just to flip you over.

"Jimin!" you shriek as your back hits the soft mattress.

Your boyfriend just gives you a breathtaking smile before crawling on top of you. He waits until you impatiently tug on his collar, bringing him in for another intense kiss. In acknowledgment, Jimin lightly bites your bottom lip, then traces his tongue over the bitten mark to soothe it, leaving you writhing beneath him.

He seems to like your response, hand reaching up to tilt your chin slightly upwards, everso deepening the kiss. Your tongues battle for the long-desired dominance, but in your case, winning the competition (that even proceeds to continue in the bedroom).

But even so, everything's taken to leisure and behind every sensual action is love.

You don't want to pull away, you don't want it to stop. Yet you're human and you need some damn thing called oxygen. "Ah, fuck." You softly detach your mouth from Jimin's lips wet as you gasp for breath.

Jimin chuckles. "Already?"

Your face burns at the memory that had happened early senior year, back when you hadn't known you would fall in love with the man above you. But then it hits you. "Wait, really?!"

"No, Y/N," Jimin undertones, giving you a quick peck. "We're not fucking."

"Oh, good. 'Cause I—"

"We're making love."

"Oh." You pause. "Oh."

Jimin notices your hesitation, cupping your cheeks with his hands and he gazes lovingly into your eyes. "You can always tell me to stop."

"N-No. Don't stop. It's just... I'm... Well... Oh fuck it,"  you mumble the last part under your breath. "I'm a goddamn virgin, Jimin."

Your boyfriend nods. "I know, Y/N. We'll go slow. You know, with an extra side of immense love..." He pauses to see if you're comfortable, tucking in a strand of sweaty hair that clings onto your face behind your ear. "Make me stop when you want it to stop."

You can't help but nod, head reeling with all sorts of thoughts. Then, your legs turn to jelly as your boyfriend leans away to start unbuttoning his shirt. That little shit. He's doing it tantalizingly slow, making sure you get ever glimpse of his smooth, toned muscles.  His eyes never leave yours, even when he's lingeringly inching his shirt down, revealing more and more skin.

You think you might go crazy.

"You've seen me shirtless before." Jimin has a proud grin etched on his face, seemingly proud that you're admiring his body in awe.

You sigh quickly, averting your eyes for your own innocence. "Yeah, but not in bed," you mutter.

Your boyfriend chuckles lowly, rushing in to meet your lips. "There's a first time for everything," he breathes heavily against your mouth. You'd normally nod your head in agreement but your thoughts are a bit occupied at the moment. Especially when Jimin's hands are tugging at the hem of your blouse. "Can I?" he murmurs.

Oh god.

You nod weakly, watching as Jimin carefully starts unbuttoning your blouse. He gingerly slides the silky material off of your shoulders, flinging it behind his back afterward. Instinctively, you cross your arms over your bare stomach, averting your eyes off to the dark ocean waters as Jimin's warm hands tenderly dance across your shoulders. It feels so embarrassing to be half-naked in front of someone—even if you're madly in love with the man.

Your boyfriend notices, smiling warmly at you as he pecks your cheek. "Hey, hey, don't be embarrassed. You're beautiful to me no matter what. Don't hide yourself."

"Sorry, I just..." you trail off as you make eye contact with Jimin, cheeks tinging pink. "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing."

Jimin laughs. "No one ever does when they're thinking too much of it. Just go with the flow, don't think. Your mind might not know, but your body does; let that guide you..." His sultry voice does wonders. You don't understand how it's possible to have become weaker than you were before.

Goddamn.

You shock yourself when you tug Jimin back in, his lips crashing down on yours. He groans against the contact, hands fluttering south to graze against his belt. Your stomach drops low. Damn. It's really happening.

"You good?" Jimin mutters against your lips. "Too fast?"

You shake your head. "No it's good," you breathe, gripping his arm as his fingers work to unbuckle the belt. Time seems to slow down as he slips the black band from his jeans, tossing it off the bed.

You can hear your own heavy pants, and gasp when you feel something hot graze against your jeans.

"Sorry, I—" Jimin stutters, shifting above you. But that only makes his (god forbid) boner dig into your inner thigh. Quite unholily.

"O-Oh my god," you stutter as Jimin buries his face into the crevice of your neck. "Park Jimin, your thing inflated." You giggle slightly, cheeks heating up as you feel it chafe against your jeans. "Just thought you ought to know."

Your boyfriend grunts, pouting against your neck. "I'm aware," he says softly, shifting weight from his right to his left, making you groan.

"Let's just... continue," you choke out as Jimin has a shit-eating grin on his face above you.

And just like that, Jimin helps you peel the remaining clothing off of each other. (Somehow he miraculously unhooks your bra faster than you ever could.)

You'd say it would be awkward, but it's anything but. Yet your face still burns red and your eyes keep trailing off to look at the ocean. It's not awkward but you feel so bare. You're not cold at all, especially not when Jimin's holding you so close. But you feel... shy. That's the word. You feel shy.

And it's almost as if Jimin can read your mind. "Hey, Y/N, you don't have to be so shy." He leans in, leaving a chaste kiss to the shell of your ear.

You let out a little whine, hands reaching up to cover up your face. "I'm not being shy," you argue. "I dunno. I'm just... I don't know. If you told me we were going to do the deed, I would've taken a longer shower." You pout behind your hands.

"Y/N!" Jimin laughs. "I love you, no matter how much you smell," he says, kissing your exposed forehead as he sniffles his nose to take in your scent. "And you only smell like a delicious meal to me."

You make a face, rolling your eyes from under your palms.

"Aw, c'mon, show me your beautiful face," Jimin coaxes, his sultry voice replaced with bubbly teasing as his warm hands attempt to separate yours from your face.

You huff. "I don't see where you see the beauty," you mutter, finally giving in and uncovering your face. Jimin immediately peppers your face with light kisses.

"What do you mean? I see beauty everywhere," Jimin chuckles, fingers grazing over your collarbone. "And by everywhere, I mean, everywhere," he whispers hotly in your ear, emphasizing the last word. You flush, suddenly feeling the urge to cover up your chest, but you remember you're in safe, loving hands. "Hey," Jimin calls, his fingers running through your hair, "you ready?"

"I... uh..." Your brain turns into mush at that absolute moment. It's a simple yes or no question, but your mind goes blank, and you utter something completely else. "Wait, is it going to hurt?"

Jimin chuckles, raising a cocky brow. "Well, that depends on how much you can take me."

Your eyes enlarge and you almost choke on your own breath. "Damn. I think I just got unaroused."

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, though a smile peeks out from his lips. You feel the heat of his body lift from you as he slightly pulls away to reach for something on the elegant nightstand. Looking at him with questioning eyes, you wordlessly ask what he was doing.

"Condom," he answers, hands fumbling with the wrapper. You quickly avert your eyes, almost feeling the need to give Jimin some privacy as he deals with the protection. When he's finished, he slowly crawls back onto you, legs on both sides of your body. "Hey," he breathes, running a soft finger over your cheek, "trust me, alright? Don't be nervous, Y/N. I'll be right here the whole time."

You nod, reaching for his hands. He gladly gives them to you, and the two of you interlock both of your hands by each side of your head. His face is so close to yours that you can feel his warm breath escaping from his lips and caressing your pink cheeks.

"I love you, Y/N," Jimin whispers.

If you thought you knew what love looked like before, you were wrong. This. This look is the embodiment of love. How his eyes are slightly hooded from sexual desire, but how they also glisten brightly with all the adoration in the world. It's the look that speaks a million words. A look to say, 'I can't tell you my love enough, so I must show you.'

It's not that he was going to make love. No, with that look, he wants to give love with you. And you're not one to oppose.

Your eyes can't leave Jimin's, savoring the intimate feeling with him and the last moments of what some people might say your purity. "You and me both," you finally manage to breathe.

Jimin gives you a tender smile, hands still tightly intertwined with yours. And with that, your bodies are one.

You gasp from the foreign feeling, toes curling and head throwing back. Your hands subconsciously grip onto Jimin's and he grunts. "Good?"

"O-Oh god, y-yeah," you breathe shakily, closing your eyes as your lips part involuntarily.

You've never been this physically close with another human being. No one's ever gotten permission from you to invade your space so literally, either. But it's this moment in time where you're in pure bliss. Every movement, every breath, every warm pant that falls from both of your lips is euphoric, making up the utopian world you live in every time you're with your love.

And once it all ends and you're cleaned up, Jimin takes you by his side, cuddling you like there's no tomorrow.

"You know," he whispers sleepily in your ear, breath tickling your baby hairs. He kisses the back of your neck as you snuggle up against him, naked back touching his warm chest. "It was my first time tonight too."

You turn your head in shock, then finding your lips inches away from his. "What?" you whisper back.

"Mhm," Jimin hums, pecking your lips and intertwining his bare legs with yours. "First time making love, that is."

It only takes one statement for your mind to flash back to the pleasurable moments you'd shared with your boyfriend. How the once quiet room had become a chamber blossoming with pants, moans and little whispers of endearment. You remember the eyes that Jimin had look at you throughout the night. They had reflected all of your love for him straight back to you. That was the moment when you had known. That was when you'd truly realized this form of unadulterated love was new to your boyfriend as well. Both of you would find your way through the twists and turns of the maze that follows any true relationship, together.

The thought keeps you at peace.

24 is an age you never thought you'd reach.

It's an age old enough to make important decisions. But also an age young enough to get away with doing dumb shit.

You've lived for 24 years. Okay well, 24 years and 220 days to be exact (that's counting 6 leap days). Which is approximately 295.26 months. About 1283 weeks and 5 days. Then 8986 days. Fuck, you're old.

24's the age Jimin was when he met you, therefore it was deemed a magical age and number. Some days you agree with that, some days you don't.

Today though, you full-heartedly agree.

Jimin intertwines his hand with yours, rubbing small circles on the back of it — just the way you like. His strides equal yours, making sure he's walking right next to you, never faster, never slower. He's also wearing an all-black outfit, something that you've mentioned your love for countless times.

And you had left the house together, deciding to walk to the theater to watch Jin's newest play. Your cousin had saved both of you a special seat "on the house," and you were honestly excited to be able to support your cousin (to repay back all the support he had given you in your angsty teen years).

"So, what do you think, Y/N?" Jimin asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Hm?"

"The proof I was talking about for the last ten minutes. Think it's alright to give to my students during winter break?"

"Oh god," you sigh. "I don't know... Nothing screams satanic hell than a five-page double-sided proof. Especially during winter vacation." You look at Jimin for support, squeezing his hand. "You and your students can use a break, you know. Besides, if you assign a five-page proof, you'll have to grade it, and I'm not helping you with that anymore."

"Yeah but —"

"Jiminie, they're college kids. They need to have time to go to parties as much as you need time to hang out with me!" you pout, leaning into your boyfriend convincingly. "Besides, college is stressful as hell."

"Damn." Jimin shakes his head, chuckling. "Ever since you got a job, you act like you have the answer to everything!"

"Oh yeah? Well ever since you became a college professor, you've been giving me less attention!" You swing your linked hands back and forth, grinning wildly. "And for the record, I've always acted like I had the answer to everything."

Jimin scoffs, a teasing smile spreading across his face. "Fine. Whatever, but ever since you turned 24, you think you need all the attention in the world!"

"Mhm, yes, sure. But you're just working way harder because you know I make more money than you." You stick out your tongue at your boyfriend. A childish play, but something you know for a fact that Jimin finds absolutely adorable. "Wanna know the exact math? Twenty-one thousand, three hundred and ten more bucks!"

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. "Y/N, we've gone over this. We share a bank account, therefore we don't need to compete over our salaries."

You huff, slipping your hand away from Jimin's grip to cross your arms disapprovingly. "That's what the lesser money-maker always says but whatever, I gotchu."

"Y/N..." Jimin warns.

God. You know that voice. You know that voice very well. It's the "shut up right now or I'll punish you in the bedroom" voice. And you don't plan on being dominated today, thank you very much.

"Okay, okay," you sigh, playing with the ends of your hair. "I guess I went too far."

"You guess?"

You scoff. "Okay, fine. I know. Feel happy now, Professor?"

Dom-Jimin is replaced with the smiley boyfriend that you know well. "Just call me Jimin, Y/N... Unless you're okay with some role-playing when we get back home."

He whispers the last part in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand tall. "Jimin!" you shriek, slapping your boyfriend's shoulder in shock. "You're not supposed to talk about that... that kind of stuff in public!"

But Jimin's all smiles as he links arms with you, marching you towards the theater.

"What the fuck??" you announce as you march out of the theater still dazed from what you had just witnessed.

"I know," Jimin agrees, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jin did us so fucking dirty."

"I just can't believe he made a whole ass play about us!" you exclaim, throwing up your hands. Passerbys are giving you strange looks but at age 24, you don't give a fuck. "Illegal Love my ass."

"But you've got to admit, people really digged the teacher-student romance," Jimin whispers in your ear, his hands gripping your shoulders. "Who wouldn't? It's the sexiest kink out there."

You flush red, swatting Jimin's arm away. "That's subjective, Professor," you mutter under your breath. "Besides, you and I both know you're only saying that to get in my pants tonight."

"I'd be lying if I said no, Miss Y/N."

Now you know it's gonna be a fun night. 24's the magical age alright.

At least you think it is.

—previous | next (second book of ly trilogy masterpost)

—masterlist

[imagine-midtown-high]

Strong Idiot Vibe Part 2

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: None

Summary: After moving to Midtown High a few months ago, you start to settle in with your new friends — including the one and only Peter Parker. But a few things don’t line up with him and you catch a glimpse of something that changes your perspective.

A/N: This is part two of ‘Strong Idiot Vibe’ (you can search for the tags ‘my fics’ or ‘strong idiot vibe’) but can be read on its own. Thanks so much for reading and let me know what you think or if you’d like this story to continue!

‘5...4...3...2...1...’ You smiled as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of your AP Chemistry class. You leaned back in your chair and grinned as someone ran through the doorway, a solid 15 seconds late.

“Mr. Parker, what did I say about being late?” Ms. Jones chastised without looking up from grading papers at her desk.

“Sorry, Ms. Jones!” Peter said while trying to smooth down his disheveled hair. “I, uh, had a thing and—“

“Mr. Parker, just go sit down,” Ms. Jones said, shaking her head with an exasperated grin on her face.

“Thank you, Ms. Jones. Sorry, Ms. Jones” Peter said and looked to you with a pleased smile on his face as he walks over to your shared lab station.

“I’m surprised she let you get away with that one,” you said as Peter set his backpack down and sat in the chair next to you. “But... you were still late so that’s another mark.”

“Y/n... come on! I was way closer this time,” Peter whined.

“Nope. It counts,” you said while trying to repress your smile and be serious. You pulled out a piece of paper with the title ‘Number of Times Peter is Late’ at the top and an impressive 20 tally marks, now 21, and first semester wasn’t even halfway over. At the beginning of this school year, you didn’t know anyone since you had just moved to Queens and started going to Midtown High. But you quickly met your now best friend MJ and lots of other people on the Decathlon team after you joined. Including, the one and only Peter Parker who you’d met on the first day of AP Chemistry when he’d arrived, of course, late.

After a pattern had started arising, you’d started counting and eventually a list had been formed with a deal that if Peter reached 50 by the end of the year he’d have to go up to Flash Thompson and tell him ‘how amazing he is’ and that ‘he’s an undervalued member of the decathlon team’. After struggling to find a counter-motivation, MJ suggested that if Peter didn’t reach 50, you would have to say yes to one of Flash’s endless attempts to go on a date. When you rejected Flash on the first day of school, initially he’d seemed aggravated, but soon made it his mission to ask you out until you said yes.

Of course, after realizing how horrible Peter was at arriving to class on time, you knew that you wouldn’t have to worry in the slightest about going on a date with Flash. “And considering you were 15 minutes late yesterday, it wasn’t too hard to beat that record today,” you laughed.

“Fine, fine. I’ll let you count it,” Peter seceded, raising his hands in the air defensively. You could feel your heart skip a few beats during your banter with Peter and tried to calm your nerves at the sight of him. You’d accepted the fact that you might have some feelings for Peter but it really was nothing. At all. You were fine.

“All right everybody, settle down,” Ms. Jones announced over the chatter. “We’re finishing up our two-day lab on exothermic reactions so hopefully you all got some work done yesterday.” Everyone chuckled and you and Peter got the materials from your lab yesterday and set up.

“So where’d you go yesterday when you left Decathlon early?” You asked, pulling out the lab aprons when Peter arrived with the goggles. Yesterday, Peter had suddenly left their Decathlon practice 30 minutes early after receiving a text — not that you had been watching him.

“I, uh, had a thing with the Stark Internship.” Peter busied himself with tying his apron behind his back and in the corner of your mind, you noticed that he was avoiding eye contact.

“Was it an emergency? I saw you leave pretty quickly.” You finished tying your own apron and put on your goggles.

“Uh, yeah. I was... called in to do a thing but I, um, don’t think I’m allowed to talk about it — confidentiality and all, you know,” Peter rambled as he fumbled and set up the test tubes. You nodded like you understood, which you did. You were sure that Stark Industries was very particular about keeping their information secret, but you wondered what Peter, an intern, would be working on that would be so important. A voice in the back of your head, that sounded an awful lot like Flash, wondered if Peter could be lying about the internship but you shook it off. As much as Flash didn’t want to believe it, you were sure that Peter was telling the truth. After working together for a few months, you and Peter completed the lab easily in a choreographed dance — weaving between each other and finishing in record time.

“I’ll clean up if you turn in the lab?” Peter asked, already picking up the cleaning materials.

“Deal,” you said and walked over to Ms. Jones’ desk.

“Done already? You and Mr. Parker do seem to make a good team.” Ms. Jones picked up the lab report from your hand. “... And only 1.3% error, I think that’s a record for this lab. It had quite a few difficult variables. Good work.” She smiled and nodded, placing your paper in her pile of papers to grade.

“Thank you, Ms. Jones,” you said and walked back to your now clean lab station where Peter was reorganizing the reactants you’d used. “Jones said we broke the record for the lowest percent error on this lab,” you said with a grin Qand sat down next to Peter.

“Not to mention we finished,” Peter looked down at his watch, “35 minutes earlier than everyone else.” You both looked around the room at everyone else still working on the final reactions for today. Peter snorted and you followed his line of sight to see Flash fumbling with an overflowing test tube and yelling at his poor lab partner. You both laughed at the sight and you flicked your eyes at Peter for a second, taking in his untidy hair and pink indent marks on his cheeks and forehead due to the goggles. But really, you focused on his smile as he threw back his head in laughter and the way he crinkled his eyes. Peter turned his head and you quickly looked away, hoping that he hadn’t caught you staring like an idiot.

“Hey, at least we don’t have any homework. The post-lab questions are the only thing on the board,” you said hoping to deflect.

“Thank goodness because I have tons of statistics homework from Miller.” Peter opened his backpack, shoving something to the bottom — probably a jacket— and pulling out his homework.

“Ugh, don’t get me started. I have his class first period and I think he takes out his morning grumpiness on us,” you said only exaggerating your misery slightly. Mr. Miller really was the strictest teacher at the school and loved to give his AP Statistics students extra work for one toe out of line. Peter laughed and you both returned to your homework.

After about 15 minutes, you were so absorbed in your homework you almost didn’t notice Peter start to mess around with a beaker in one of the drawers on the other side of him... again. You never brought it up, but after finishing labs early or during lectures, Peter would do experiments on his own — occasionally huffing in disappointment or whispering comments under his breath. You didn’t want to seem pushy and you knew Peter wouldn’t do anything dangerous, but you couldn’t figure out what Peter was doing with his body blocking your view and the chemicals he grabbed so obscure. Your best guess was something carbon-based but you had no idea; maybe it was something for the Stark internship. Suddenly, Peter leaned back and stretched, making your heart race slightly at the way his shirt— but more importantly, it gave you a view into the drawer. You only saw it for a few seconds but it looked like the beaker was filled with a white, stringy material almost like spider silk. Spider silk. Peter leaned back and continued working on his statistics homework, giving his experiment time to react. Spider silk. It took your mind a split second to think of Queen’s own superhero that just so happened to use the same— no, Peter couldn’t be. But once you got the thought in your head a few things started to line up. His disappearance from decathlon yesterday just so happened to align with what you saw on the news: the appearance of Spider-Man and Iron Man at a battle against a rouge science experiment, genetically-modified hamsters the size of buses, that were terrorizing northern Manhattan. Not to mention D.C., that everyone had told you about, Peter going missing and Spider-Man suddenly showing up in D.C. to save the Decathlon team in the Washington Monument.

“Hey, have you done the homework on standard deviation? I’m stuck on number 14,” Peter asked, oblivious to your internal meltdown, still trying to work out the problem he was working on. After you forgot to respond for a few seconds he looked over at you.

“Uh, um, yeah I did. Let me see,” you said trying to not either freak-out and run out of the classroom or blurt out and ask Peter if he was... Spider-Man. You decided that you might be going crazy. You looked at the problem and remembered it from when you had done the problem yesterday, it had a strategy but it was difficult to figure out. You pointed out a few things in the problem and Peter picked up on what you were trying to lead him to.

“Thanks so much, y/n,” he said and smiled at you, making your cheeks flush slightly. Wait, Spider-Man. You’d almost forgotten. But, you’d rather base your suspicions on more concrete material than coincidences and some weird experiment Peter was doing. And the Stark Internship. Of course, Spider-Man would have connections to Tony Stark, his suit was obviously Stark tech. Again, not concrete evidence but you didn’t think that Stark Industries took on many teenage interns that had access to confidential information and had to be called in for ‘emergencies’.

You tried to return to your homework but not even a few minutes later you were distracted by someone making a scene walking up to Ms. Jones’ desk to turn his lab in. Flash handed over his lab and turned around with his arms spread, a smug grin on his face. He looked to your side of the room and when he made eye contact with you, his grin widened. Oh crap, he’s going to walk over here to brag, of course, about how well he did on the lab.

“Oh crap,” you whispered as you realized that Peter hadn’t noticed Flash walking over and still had the drawer wide open.

[artificialqueens]

You Bring Out the Best in Me (Bengela) - vulnerose

Rambly A.N. - Hi guys! So this is meant to combine two requests I got, one being with Dela having a panic attack and the other with either Shangela/Dela being flirty and the other not noticing until said person finally makes a move. I love reading longer fanfics so I thought rather than giving two short ones, I’d just combine them into one. (And of course, why not both having a crush on each other?) Apologies if any characters here are OOC, I try my best but I haven’t written fanfiction in a long time until recently so my skills are rusty. I’m always up for prompts so if you ever want one just comment on either my posts on the artificalqueens tumblr or AO3, my user is vulnerose there as well. Andddd of course this has nothing to do with any of the people mentioned! Enjoy my loves :)

ALSO if you’d want to see a potential sequel to this just let me know. I’m honestly considering doing it, I loved writing this fic so much.

The pressure was getting too much for Dela to handle.

It was her junior year of high school, where the competition to look as good as possible academically-wise had truly kicked off. Teachers were so much tougher than they had been in the earlier years, and she found herself crying in her bedroom after school. Every. Single. Day.

It wasn’t like Dela wasn’t a good student - she was. She was a straight A all honors student, and had been since middle school. She’d decided to challenge herself to taking four AP classes, thinking she could handle the stress since she’d enjoyed taking AP Euro the previous year. But dear god was she wrong. Bio projects were daily, her APUSH teacher was super demanding and offered no test corrections, statistics was fucking her over mentally, and she could barely write a rhythm in music theory. It was draining her mentally and physically - she had to work her ass off to maintain all As. Even then, her parents still found a way to demand more out of her.

She couldn’t count the number of times she just wanted to sleep, but couldn’t because of a report she needed to write. Dela was notorious for having coffee with her every morning. She didn’t do it purposely or for show, she couldn’t survive a day without a large cup of coffee, since she rarely got more than 5 hours of sleep. In the mornings she’d put layer after layer of concealer under her eyes to cover up the ever growing bags down there, and red-reducing eye drops became her best friend. She surprisingly rarely broke out, maybe a bit of acne here and there but her skin was rather clear.

Despite all the stress eating away at her mentally, she still managed to be the sweet, always delightful girl everyone had come to know her as. She never snapped at anyone, even when they were yelling in her ear and she’d barely had any caffeine. Her image was very important to her, and she stopped at nothing to maintain it.

It was midterm time, the most stressful time of year by far, second of course to finals. Dela had anticipated this week for a bit now, studying hard for long hours and attempting to prepare herself mentally. Each midterm intercepted at least one other, and it wasn’t too long before Dela was aware that she’d be taking all of her midterms on one day. One fucking day. She nearly broke down in tears when she realized this.

The day before midterms started, Dela decided she couldn’t care less and allowed herself to destress completely, as she knew she’d only worsen the upcoming anxiety attacks if she worried over a stupid worksheet right now. The anxiety set in right after school, when she immediately began reading page after page in her history book, doing practice problems, rereading her English novel, practicing her flute, and working on her big bio lab that acted as a midterm that was due tomorrow.

She fell asleep at 4 after being confident she would be alright. She had to wake up at 7.

She walked into the exam room the following day, bags unconcealed, eyes red and puffy, contacts bothering her, and head pounding from a migraine. The second she was handed that paper, anxiety took off and in the most minute moment, her throat felt like it was being suffocated, tears trying to well in her eyes, head more focused on people tapping their stupid fucking feet on the ground. Her fingers and thighs were shaking, completely enslaved to the major panic attack she was experiencing. Her brain was focusing on anything but the paper in front of her. ‘You pulled your ponytail just a TAD too harsh. Now it’ll be the only thing you think about.’

She miraculously survived, and asked immediately afterwards to go to the bathroom. The panic attack was subsiding but fear began to grow again. What if she failed all of them? Would her mom disown her? What if they thought I was cheating because I was looking around the room so often? I couldn’t help myself, right? It was the anxiety, not me right?

Dela locked herself in a stall and just sat there recollecting her thoughts and allowing the panic to subside. God, how she wished someone was here to make her feel better right now. Jinkx had ended up missing midterms incredibly narrowly, as her family’s yearly trip to Seattle had been scheduled to start the day before. Jinkx always had shitty cellular up there so there was no way she’d be talking to her until after the Christmas break ended. Aja was still taking her midterms and so was Trixie, and Alaska was probably too busy with Roxxxy and Detox to watch her cry about her everything.

She pushed at the chipping nail polish on her thumb, sighing heavily as she thought. Nobody really cared for her, did they? Dela always felt that she had a sufficient friend group, people that had her best interests in mind no matter what, but the realization dawned on her that no, no she didn’t. She couldn’t think of one person that would be able to comfort her right now. That person was always Jinkx, but now she had to find a way to deal with her emotional breakdowns on her own until her best friend returned. And she didn’t know how to take that.

That is, of course, until her brain and the voices inside began to taunt her and laugh, saying she was dumb, unlovable, forgettable; the list went on and on and on. Tears began to run down Dela’s cheek as she couldn’t stop the voices from continuing to spew hateful words at her, telling her how she’s a disappointment of a daughter and how all of her friends really just felt sorry for her. That she bombed all of her midterms and she’d be rejected by everyone.

Logically Dela knew it wasn’t true - nobody would hate her for failing a test, but she couldn’t help but believe the other two. Since when had her parents been truly proud of her? And since when did the majority of the girls she called friends ever text or call her? Even hang out with her? She couldn’t think of a time, date, or place.

Dela was fully broken down and worn out, crying from stress and panic and relief and sadness all at once. She’d never truly felt so useless and vulnerable until this day in time. Dela was grateful she hadn’t worn makeup, at least there’d be no tear stains on her skin.

Her crying session was abruptly ended by a voice.

“What’s going on in there mama? Don’t know who’s in there or what’s going on but it’s something. I’m not leaving until I help you darling.”

Dela’s eyes widened as she instantly recognized the voice. Shangela Waldey. Head cheerleader, but in the few times she’s spoken with her, seemed nice. They shared a couple of classes too. Her ugly crying stopped and was replaced by quiet sniffling.

“Honey? C'mon, tell me what’s up. Or come out and I can give you a hug or something.”

A hug did sound pretty nice right now.

Dela came out of the cubicle with her face red, eyes even bluer than usual from crying, and Shangela’s heart broke at the sight. She didn’t know Dela well, but it hurt to see the usually sweet and happy girl stripped down and miserable.

“Oh sweetie…” Shangela’s arms reached out and wrapped around Dela’s body, and Dela felt a sense of comfort and relief. She continued to cry but it definitely wasn’t as audible as it’d been before. Dela tried to avoid crying all over Shangela’s cheerleader uniform but Shangela wasn’t having it and whispered for her to not worry. Shangela rubbed her back to try and relieve the poor girl, wondering who made a girl so precious and gentle cry like this.

“What’s wrong honey? You’re always so happy. Did someone hurt you?” Dela blinked at her, shaking her head slowly, both still keeping the hug.

“Wasn’t anyone. I’m so stressed out Shangela, I just finished taking all my exams today. My brain has been so fried this entire year and I’m really scared that I’m gonna do shit on them.” Dela began to bawl again as she told the girl what was bothering her. Shangela’s hand began to play with Dela’s hair as she continued to listen to the girl talk. “My closest friend is away and I can’t talk to her right now and I feel like nobody cares about me. I can’t think of one person that I could talk to right now, none of them like me. I just feel like a tremendous failure.” Shangela broke the hug, holding one of Dela’s hands in hers, other lightly pointing up Dela’s chin so she could look her straight in the eye.

“Don’t know you that well honey, it’s the truth. But from what I do know, you’re anything but what your brain tells you that you are. I’m sorry you feel that way sweetheart, because it’s not true at all. You’re not a failure, and if you really feel like you don’t have anyone that you can talk to, I’m here.” Dela’s eyes widened slightly - she wasn’t expecting that kind of a response. From the moment Shangela broke the hug she thought she would taunt her and get her popular friends to begin bullying her.

“Got a lot on your mind, don’t you?” Shangela was smiling with both her eyes and mouth, watching Dela stare into space. Dela snapped out of it almost immediately.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.” Dela stopped momentarily to wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing. “Why do you care about me? Like you have so many friends and you’re so popular, why me?”

Shangela couldn’t help but laugh. “Girl you think I give a shit about 99% of the people I hang out with? You can’t trust them with any secrets you got, all they wanna do is get drunk on weekends, they’re barely passing their classes right now, fucking ridiculous. Partying and failing isn’t my schtick, only reason why they keep me around is because without me, there’s no cheerleading team.” Shangela so badly wanted to form a true friendship with someone, and had always found Dela to be a sweetheart - not to mention quite beautiful too - and she couldn’t pass up this opportunity to get to know her better.

Dela sat down on the bench beside them, Shangela joining her, waiting her response. Dela buried her head in Shangela’s shoulder, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again.

Shangela felt her heart begin to fly, and she couldn’t think of why.

Shangela broke the hug, grabbing Dela’s hand and walking the both of them to the sink. “C'mon honey, let’s get your face washed so you don’t look like a hot mess. If you can let’s hang out after school.”

Dela smiled at her, dousing her face in cold water, feeling energy soar through her as it hit her face. “Sure, that sounds lovely.”

After sharing phone numbers, the two of them grabbed their backpacks, ready to head out after spending far too long in there. Shangela’s hand fumbled in the front pocket of her backpack, searching for a box of Altoids. She took one in her mouth.

“Have one girl, you need it after all the coffee you drink.” She could tell Shangela was being playful - nothing in the blonde’s voice indicated bad intents.

Dela laughed, taking one out and popping it in her mouth, the peppermint freshening her breath.

“See you soon girl,” Shangela waved goodbye, heading out of the bathroom.

Dela’s face was illuminated with the biggest smile it’s ever had. She didn’t really know why. “See you soon,” she whispered back, in the silence of the bathroom.

—————————————————

The past couple of weeks had been some of the best either of them had in their lives. They spent time hanging out as often as they could, and texted on those days they just couldn’t be together in person, especially when Shangela had work. It excited Shangela to have a real person for a friend - not a fake, popularity-obsessed one. She could talk to Dela about seemingly anything, from grades to personal issues and everything in between. Dela always listened and gave her advice when she needed it. Shangela was, for the first time, not feeling left to the side in a friendship. She felt like Dela truly cared about her and her wellbeing.

Dela didn’t know what to expect initially, but had all her doubts and scared about Shangela shut down that first time they hung out after the bathroom incident. She just had an aura consisting of genuine, loving, reality-checking behavior that Dela just loved. Shangela was never one to lie - she always told it how it was and she respected her immensely for that as it’s so easy to lie. She initially thought of Shangela being a substitute for Jinkx but she no longer viewed her in that manner - she was nothing like Jinkx. She was just uniquely Shangela, and when Jinkx returned from Seattle she couldn’t wait to tell her what’d just gone down.

“You’re friends with who?” Jinkx whisper-screamed at Dela, a bewildered look on the ginger’s face as she attempted to take in what Dela had just told her. The two were in Dela’s bedroom for a sleepover, where Dela just unraveled the news to her friend.

Dela snorted at her response. “You heard me.”

“Christ, I leave for one week and a year’s events have gone by. I’m warning you right now, if she ever hurts you or you let her I’m personally beating her into a pulp.” She pointed a finger directly at Dela when she said the last fragment of her sentence, establishing her meaning well and clear.

Dela threw a pillow in her face. “She’s not gonna do that, I promise.”

Jinkx got off the floor, rolling herself into Dela’s bed and shutting off the lamp as she turned on the TV. “Don’t make a promise too soon. Now let’s watch something before I pass out.”

—————————————————

It had been a month since Shangela and Dela had first met that day, and Dela was just now getting to see Shangela’s apartment - purely because the two had to finish a biology project they’d been assigned to work together on.

Shangela fumbled with her keys as Dela stood behind her in the hallway of the building. “It’s not much to look at so don’t be surprised.” Dela laughed as Shangela finally managed to get the door to unlock after numerous tries.

Closing the door behind her, Shangela led Dela around and allowed her to take in her surroundings. The apartment was rather simple - it had both a modern and cozy feel to it. Dela couldn’t help but notice the lack of people in the apartment.

As soon as they got to Shangela’s room, and both of the girls plopped down on her bed, Dela decided to ask her what the deal was with it. “Hey Shangie?”

Shangela’s head turned toward her, putting down her phone. “What’s up sweetheart?”

The cute nickname made Dela’s heart fly, but she tried to not let it be visible. “I’m sorry if this is rude to ask, but you appear to live by yourself, how come?”

If there was one thing that hurt Shangela slightly, it was talking about what had happened between her and her parents. Dela immediately sensed the discomfort on Shangela’s face after she’d asked her the question, and instantly felt like shit. She reached a hand out and rubbed Shangela’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to Shangie, I’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway.”

“It’s ok, just that it’s hard what I went through with my parents.” Shangela paused momentarily, deciding whether she should say the next thing or not. “Promise you won’t judge me for what I’m about to say?”

“Unless you murdered someone, I have no judgement in my heart towards you,” Dela reassured her, smiling with her eyes.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “So when I was around 13, my mom caught me watching lesbian porn. I’d been doing watching it for a while but I got careless that one day, you know? So then my parents had a long talk with me and sent me to conversion therapy and all that shit,” Shangela took a pause, her eyes beginning to water. She hated the fact that she was about to cry like a baby in front of Dela, but she’d seen the other girl in that state before so she felt less embarrassed.

“Oh no, you poor thing.” Dela immediately engulfed her in a tight hug. “What happened after, since obviously conversion therapy isn’t a scientifically proven way to become straight?”

“I faked that it worked for a while, but last year they caught me kissing a girl and that was their final straw. They kicked me out and I haven’t spoken to any of my family in about a year.” Tears stained Shangela’s cheeks as she thought of her family; all the good memories that made her wish this all hadn’t happened. She really did love and miss her family, but she would have been even more miserable staying in the closet but being with them.

Dela could feel her adrenaline spike as she heard Shangela tell her that she was gay. “I’m gay too and my parents didn’t react well either when I came out. They told me to never talk about it again or they would throw me in the streets. I know exactly how you feel, there’s just so much hate and ignorance in this world, it sucks.”

Shangela couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief pass through her body as Dela told her that she was in the closet as well, and how she didn’t just get up and leave. Of course Dela wouldn’t do the latter - she knew the girl well enough by now to know that she doesn’t judge a soul - and she honestly wasn’t expecting her to tell her that she was gay as well.

“We really are the same, aren’t we?” Dela laughed, punching her arm lightly.

“Now I can send you pictures of girls that I think are hot,” Dela told her, winking.

Shangela couldn’t help but smile as she saw her wink. It gave shy, cunning, and flirty all at once.

Maybe it means something… maybe it doesn’t.

“Cmon girl, we all know I’m the standard of beauty.”

“Wow, society’s standards are that low?” Shangela’s mouth gaped at Dela’s answer, the once silent room filling with laughs and guffaws.

“Fucking bitch. Let’s get started with this bio project and make it good so we don’t hear Smith lecturing our asses on how we’ll fail the AP test.” Shangela couldn’t thank Dela enough for brightening up the mood, but now it was time to come up with a project worthy of at least a passing grade.

“Boo,” Dela pouted, sighing as she went to get her laptop.

“Hurry back quick so we can start baby.”

Dela was now incredibly grateful she had her back turned to Shangela so she couldn’t see how much that nickname made her blush. She returned, both laptop and her bio binder in hand and sat on the bed once more, Shangela having wiped her face of the tear-stained foundation and runny mascara and eyeliner from crying, yet chose to reapply her red lipstick. Dela couldn’t help but notice how good of a color red was on her.

“I like that lipstick shade on you, it looks so beautiful.” Dela had been pulling up the rubric to see exactly what they had to accomplish - and of course they got the project focusing on sex cells.

“Thank you darling, maybe I’ll give it to you one day,” Shangela spoke, wrapping her arm around Dela’s waist and looking on with her at the screen. Was that flirtation in her voice? No - couldn’t be, probably just meant she’d buy it for her birthday or something. The arm was an innocent gesture but she couldn’t help but feel her heart burst from it. Oh god, why was she getting so enamored by Shangela all of a sudden? She’d always acted this way around her - it meant nothing one way or the other, right?

What was this girl doing to her?

Dela couldn’t say anything else besides, “Let’s get this started.”

And so they did.

—————————————————

“Dela? Earth to Dela?” Jinkx waved a hand in front of Dela’s face, who’d been staring at her locker for the past five minutes. Dela immediately sprung back to life, twisting the combination.

“Sorry, lot on my mind right now. You have time to talk?” She shoved several books in and slammed the locker shut with her foot.

“Sure do. Let’s walk to the coffee shop, you can talk to me about your issues throughout the journey,” the redhead replied, tapping the top of Dela’s head. Dela couldn’t help but notice Shangela walk right by the two of them as they neared the front door. She winked at Dela, then began heading toward the gym, presumably for cheer practice.

Jinkx had noticed as well, and gave Shangela a confused look to her back. Nonetheless, they walked out together and Dela began the long process of explaining everything happening to her to Jinkx.

“So basically I wanna tell you something she told me the other day but promise you won’t tell anyone about it? Like, ever since I’ve known this I’ve been feeling weird things towards her and I don’t know why.”

“My lips are sealed doll.” The two decided to sit down on a bench in the park, which happened to be right by the café they’d been headed to. The ginger played with the rips in her jeans, still looking at Dela, fully alert.

Dela whispered so that nobody besides the two of them could hear. “We came out to each other. I’m only whispering in case she isn’t out yet.” Her voice leveled to a normal speaking voice. “Now I feel like everything she does is flirty, and I don’t know if I’m just being too hopeful or there might be something there.”

“What sorts of things are making you think she might like you?”

“She calls me these really sweet nicknames and I blush every time she calls me them. Like she calls me baby and darling all the time and I haven’t heard her say my actual name since the first day we met.”

Jinkx’s fingers moved onto scraping the black nail polish she had on. “Hmmm, that’s tricky because a lot of people do that sort of nickname thing with close friends. I mean, I do it to you on the daily. Buttt, it can be a sign. Give me the rundown on the rest.”

Dela began to count off with her fingers as she recited. “She gets kinda touchy with me, she’s always in the mood to hang out with me, I told her how nice her lipstick looked on her and she said she’d give it to me and I don’t know whether it’s a pass or not, you know?” She got frustrated with herself as she realized that her potential signs just sounded like Shangela being a good friend, which of course she was. “It’s so hard to explain, but I just feel like she does.”

“I bet you there’s one very obvious sign that you’ve forgotten. Think Dela, think,” Jinkx persuaded her, knowing there’s got to be one key factor to making the final verdict.

Dela hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I mean, she’s cried in front of me, but I don’t think that’s a sign? I know she’s not known for crying but that didn’t seem like a sign to me, maybe it is.”

Jinkx’s eyes widened. “Oh no honey, she loves you. Shangela hasn’t cried in front of anyone in this school since pre-k. Which I commend her for, I can’t go for even a month without crying.” Dela felt her heartbeat speed up. “But the question is, do you like her? And I already know the answer to that, you do. Make a move on her before she thinks you’re not interested. That probably won’t end pretty.”

“You support me being with her?” Dela almost felt the eyeroll Jinkx gave her in response.

“As long as you’re happy with it, I don’t give a shit you do. But mark my words, if Shangela Wadley ever even thinks of hurting you, I will make sure she gets it.” Dela smiled, hugging her.

“Thanks dude.”

“No problem, I love being the third wheel,” Jinkx spoke, sarcastic. “You can get your girl after we finish this shift.”

Dela sighed, annoyed, as she’d forgotten completely about their shift. “Three hours of hell and I can go over to her house.”

The two got up and began heading toward the coffee shop, where they both worked. “What’re you gonna do there with her?”

“I’m addicted to Game of Thrones thanks to her now, so we planned on watching it for a movie night. Maybe a special topic will be brought up.” Dela looked at Jinkx and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ah yes, that topic being on the role of the nucleus in a cell?”

“Sure,” Dela rolled her eyes as Jinkx laughed, both reaching the glass entrance door of the coffee shop simultaneously.

“You’re so in love.”

—————————————————

“Hey girl!” Shangela greeted Dela in pajama pants and a t-shirt, hair up in a bun. Her look may be seen as lazy and boring to others, but Dela saw her looking equally beautiful as she did all made up. Shangela enveloped Dela in a hug.

“Hi Shangie!” Dela’s hair was wet and cold against Shangela’s scalp - she’d probably just washed it - and Shangela didn’t care one bit. It was unlike her and she knew that - cold wet hair was her worst enemy.

Everything is appealing when it’s done by the one you love, isn’t it? Shangela shook that thought out of her head. It was time to accept the fact that Dela had no feelings for her in that way and just thought of her as a close friend. The thought of that pained her, but she felt like it was obvious at this point. Dela probably would have made a move on her by now if she liked her, as Shangela thought her flirting made it clear that Shangela liked the other girl.

God, she really needed to get out of her head for a second, didn’t she?

“Hey girl, need help with your stuff?” Shangela asked, noticing Dela carrying a bag with night clothes, which appeared to be rather heavy. Dela shook her head in refusal, but her eyes glimmered, thanking her for the offer.

“Can I leave this in your room?” Shangela waved her off, giving the signal to do whatever the hell she wanted. Dela ran across the living room to the bedroom, plopping the bag on her bed before coming back to the couch where Shangela was sitting, curled up in a blanket. “How rude of you to not give me one too.” Shangela laughed.

“Girl please. Go steal one from my room.” And so she did.

Dela returned with a blue blanket, with the pattern being the phrase ‘Halleloo!’ written all over it. “The most Shangela one I could find,” Dela mumbled while curling herself into a ball with the blanket, her head lying on top of Shangela’s lap purposely as the two sat on the couch. The blanket smelled like her too, and Dela couldn’t get enough.

Shangela ruffled Dela’s hair, smiling at the girl. “Excellent choice dear. Let’s watch this shit now.” Dela wooed in response.

For the next hour or so, the two girls stared at the screen, Shangela making remarks on how she was literally Daenerys or how she was the mother of the dragons. Dela would just smile in response, enjoying the sweet moment as Shangela gently stroked her hair, treating her with care and caution. The tension between the two was clearly thick to anyone but them. After a second episode had concluded, Dela flipped her body around so she was facing Shangela, but her head still in her lap. Shangela looked at her confusingly, the movement drawing her attention away from the credits.

“I wanna ask you something,” Dela said, looking up into Shangela’s eyes, who at this point had retracted her hand from the other.

“What’s up?”

“Do you like anyone?” Um, duh, is what Shangela wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that brash. Hesitation evident, she eventually responded.

“Mhm.”

“Cool, I do too.” That phrase had sunk any hopes Shangela had of Dela liking her, and all she wanted to do was cry. “Let’s play a game.”

Shangela raised her eyebrows at her. “A game? What do you mean?”

“Like,” Dela paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before sitting up, “We each reveal one characteristic of the person we like so we can guess who the other likes. We say 5 qualities and at the end we have to guess.”

Fuck it, why not? “You go first darling.”

“Sure.” Dela was happy yet extremely nervous, wondering if her plan would blow over. “She has blonde hair.”

“What a specific quality.” Dela smirked. “She has black hair.

Dela thought for a moment before saying the next trait. “Her first name is eight letters long.” Shangela raised an eyebrow at her. Ok work, she thought. Shangela barely knew how to spell her own name, let alone the number of letters in it.

“Hers is four letters long.” Dela wanted to gape, but knew she couldn’t. Who else had black hair and a four letter name?

“Hmmm, she’s a cheerleader. A pretty good one at that.” Shangela was almost positive she could hear her heart pounding out of her chest when Dela said that. It’s gotta be her, there was literally no other person in the school it could be.

Shangela thought for a moment before saying the next hint. This could either blow up in her face or make her the happiest person in the world. “She was crying in the bathroom about finals one day and I helped her out.” Shangela both couldn’t wait to see Dela’s reaction and feared it.

She felt Dela’s hand graze hers, and was petrified as Dela hadn’t responded right away. Dela’s other hand brushed the curly blonde hair out of her face and stroked her cheek lightly.

“It’s me huh?” Dela asked her in a faint voice. Shangela wanted to roll her eyes so hard at that question. No, it’s the fucking Pope.

“Mhm, if you don’t feel the same I’ll never mention this aga-” Shangela had been cut off by Dela pressing her lips against her own. Her body had tensed up immediately before relaxing into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Dela. Everything felt right. Dela’s lips were warm and so soft, and her thumb continued stroking Shangela’s cheek as the two shared the first out of many tender moments.

Dela broke it, tears welling up in her eyes as she realized the reality of this. This girl loved her. She vowed to herself to treat her like a goddess, as she deserved nothing less than that.

“It’s so early but I want to let you know that I love you, and I have for the past couple of months. You’ve made my life so much better and I feel genuinely happy whenever I’m around you, it’s not the fake kind that I give to most of the people in school,” Dela didn’t look Shangela in the eyes speaking this, focusing on chipping the nail polish on her fingers. Shangela tightened her grip on Dela, rubbing her back with her hand lightly and stroking through her hair with the other.

“Same here baby. I love you so much, and I hope you know that. You bring out the best in me.” Dela gave her that smile - that beautiful fucking smile that she loved so much - and buried her face into Shangela’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe it took us so long to admit it to each other,” Dela said, breaking the silence they’d had momentarily. Shangela leaned in to give her another warm peck on the lips before agreeing with her.

“Whatever, we have each other now and I can shower you in love.” Dela smiled against the skin on Shangela’s shoulder.

“Sounds great.”

Shangela turned off the TV, lifting the girl still wrapped in her blanket as she shuffled her way to her bedroom, still wearing hers. Dela kisses the same spot on her cheek repeatedly throughout the short journey, and let out a whine when Shangela released her from her grip, leaving her on the bed under the covers. She removed the blankets from their bodies and discarded them haphazardly across her room. Shangela joined her in the bed, Dela snuggling up against her warm body as Shangela hugged her tight, pressing a kiss into her neck before beginning to doze off.

As they began to fall asleep, they were over the moon as they were finally able to lie in bed with the one they loved.

—————————————————

After that weekend, they made a promise to each other to not keep it a secret. Of course, not rub it in everyone’s faces, but to not avoid little things like holding each other’s hands in the halls or sneaking kisses when nobody was looking (or so they thought).

That Monday morning, Jinkx was all but shocked seeing the new couple hugging in front of Dela’s locker, which wasn’t too far from Jinkx’s. She smirked at Dela, mouthing 'I told you so!’ before being waved off by a flip of the middle finger by Dela.

Eventually, the two had to part, as they had different home rooms. Their different classes didn’t stop them from all their thoughts being consumed by one another.

Lunch time rolled around, and Dela was thoroughly surprised when she saw a particular girl with winged eyeliner and red lipstick coming her way. “Oh look who decided to join me for once?” She spoke teasingly, Shangela rolling her eyes.

Shangela sat next to her. “I don’t give a fuck about my old 'friend’ group anymore.” Shangela said, emphasizing the word friend with finger quotation marks. “I have you and I really don’t care what they have to say about me anymore.” Dela looked lovingly into Shangela’s eyes before pressing her lips against hers. People were probably staring but they didn’t care - let them stare.

They pulled apart way too quickly for either of their likings, but neither girl wanted to get in trouble by the staff. Dela’s lips had become a faint red from her lipstick and Shangela loved the way it looked on her more than anything.

“I’m getting you to wear red lipstick soon, it looks so nice on you.” At this moment, Jinkx and the rest of Dela’s small friend group had joined the table, everyone but the three who knew gaped at the situation. Shangela simply smiled and greeted them all warmly, getting to know the rest of Dela’s friends. Some of the popular group that had been used to Shangela being with them had caught notice of the situation.

“The fuck is she doing?” Violet questioned to Ginger and Manila, confused as hell as to why Shangela was hanging out with new people, much less why she was getting all touchy with a band nerd - Dela. “What’s gonna happen to the cheer team now?”

Both girls were about to agree with her when a voice came up behind them. “I’m fine with it. She looks really happy.” Manila turned her head to see who was speaking.

It was Raja.

“But-” Ginger began to speak before Raja shut her down.

“Honey she’s never looked happier than she does right now. Let her live. Shangela’s staying on the team, she told me.”

The trio nodded their heads reluctantly, continuing to watch the scene a bit more before turning back to their table.

Despite attempting to focus her attention on the new girls, Shangela’s mind and eyes would always go back to Dela. She couldn’t help herself, and Dela winked at her when the period was close to being over, letting her head rest on Shangela’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. Shangela looked at her, her heart being warmed as Dela’s beautiful blue eyes sparkled and glittered at her. She was perfect.

“You guys are so fucking cute,” Aja said. The whole table noticed the scene occurring when Aja had pointed it out and began squealing. Dela’s face flushed with embarrassment, but Shangela, being the girl she was, leaned in to kiss her. The squeals turned into 'aw’s and they pulled apart at the exact moment the bell rang.

Although they had to part ways since they didn’t share their last two classes together, Shangela followed her to the band room, not caring if she was late. Dela refused to let her but Shangela was resilient.

As they turned a corner, Dela mumbled, “I love you,” into Shangela’s ear. The shorter of the two whispered the same thing back, and there they were at Dela’s stop.

“So movie date tonight?” Shangela asked her. The two didn’t have plans but fuck it, why not make some?

“By movie you mean Game of Thrones? Of course. I’m surprised you’re not sick of me after being around me literally twenty-four seven.”

“I could never get sick of you, you stole my cold dead heart. Now go in before your teacher yells at you.” Shangela stood on her tippy toes, pressing a kiss into Dela’s hair before running off before she was insanely late. Dela’s face had a bright smile plastered on it, her heart warm and full.

She was perfect.